“What?” His brows drew together.
“There’s no way you’re headed outside like that.”
He closed his eyes and nodded. “This wouldn’t be the first time you gave me a hard-on and I had to walk around with it.”
“Let me help you with that,” she insisted.
Her focus darted around the small quarters, looking for something to help. Her ruck had been delivered through some small act of kindness, probably Warren’s doing. Although a man, he acted more like the mother hen to the unit.
No sex without protection didn’t mean she couldn’t give back, especially after the attention he’d lavished on her. Without thinking, she backed him up to the single bunk until the backs of his knees met the hard metal of the frame. The mattress was thin but serviceable, plush by most field standards.
“Sit,” she said, pushing down on his shoulder with one hand and pushing back on his waist with the other.
Ryker collapsed on the bed with a whoosh from his lungs and a screech from the wire frame underneath. She dropped, kneeling between his powerful legs, and licked her lips.
“Lose the shorts,” she said.
“Not a good idea.” His sea-foam eyes darkened with a tempest of lust, and his shoulders heaved with billowing breaths. He narrowed his eyes, drawing a deep furrow between them as he stared down at her. “I want to fuck you.”
“Trust me,” she said and blinked what she hoped were seductive eyes at him. This was something she wanted for herself as much as for him. A slow, carnal exploration, one where she could take her time to enjoy him fully. “We can head out for condoms in a bit. At least let me take the edge off.”
“Don’t think that’s possible,” he said. “Being around you keeps me perpetually hard.”
His words sank in, and she glanced up at him. “Ryker?”
“Yes, darlin’?”
“How long have you…I mean…” She shook her head, realizing she’d been blind to his feelings for far too long. “Have you always been attracted to me?”
How could he?She’d seen the women he took to his bed. They were small, frail things, full of giggles and nonsense, and usually coated in layers of makeup. The only thing she had in common with them was the length of her hair. Rarely did she fuss with makeup. Her world consisted of missions and downtime where she prepared for the next mission. All that was done without care for makeup, short skirts, or any thoughts of attracting a man. In the year she’d known Ryker, he’d collected women who epitomized femininity. Even in the months they’d been deployed together, he’d only brought the prettiest of the pretty into his bed.
He leaned down and placed his palms to her cheeks, lifting her for a kiss. “I’ve been hard for you since the day I met you. I’ve nevernotwanted you.”
“But…”
“It’s okay,” he said, releasing her and dragging a hand across the stubble of his chin. “You were off-limits.”
She should still be off-limits. Regardless of what happened with Scott or not, theirs was a dangerous liaison. A forbidden romance.
“I guess I didn’t realize,” she admitted.
There had been plenty of heat between them, but it was more obnoxious than anything else. Or maybe that was what her head had been trying to tell her heart. It was the perfect lie.
Resting back on her heels brought her attention to the tenting of his shorts.
“You’re fucking killing me here.” Following the angle of her gaze, he lifted one hand and dragged it down his face. A slight groan echoed out of his chest. His entire body vibrated with a seething mess of energy, making his posture stiff and uncomfortable. Several times, his eyes darted to the locked door, but invariably, they returned to stare down at her, crouched before him on the floor.
She blinked up at him while he clenched his teeth. His fingers grabbed at the thin fabric of the covers, but he didn’t make a move, except when she pulled at the elastic of his briefs. His head tilted back while she shifted to a more comfortable position. It wouldn’t take much to lean forward and take him in her mouth, but this was her turn to explore, tease, torture, and please, and she intended to do all that and more.
Her attention fell to his impressive girth and the swollen hardness that couldn’t be ignored. Thick and well-endowed, the head of his cock plumped with his arousal and leaked a tiny bead of pre-cum. Blood engorged the veins climbing up the shaft, an enticement for her to lick their paths from root to crown. His cock bobbed with theclenching of his abs, and the slight thrust of his hips betrayed his eagerness for her to begin. The smoothness of the heavy sac beneath surprised her, and she paused to admire his potency. Manscaping and Ryker Lyons didn’t belong in the same sentence, but he evidently kept himself trimmed and shaved. A dusting of hair gathered above his cock and formed a decadent path to the stack of taut muscles sitting low on his abs.
She gripped the base of his erection, a non-tentative hold, and slid her hand up to the crown, twisting slightly as she went. His shaft was smooth but dry, something she intended to remedy in a moment. Slowly, she slid her hand up and down his hard length. Velvet skin covered a shaft of hardened steel, but the skin of her palm dragged against his shaft. He hissed, and she wasn’t clear if it was because it hurt or felt good. When she reached the tip, she smeared a drop of pre-cum over her palm and then took a moment to glide her hand over the head, massaging in a circle while the muscles of his jaw bunched.
“Holy fuck,” he said, panting, “that’s torture.”
“Do you like it?” The question was unnecessary, given the way his hips jerked into her palm.
His eyes squeezed shut, and his lips pressed together. “It’s incredible.”
