She scrunched up her face. “Do I need to be worried about what you meant?”
The look that overtook his face was anything but innocent, and her blood ignited. “Depends on how much you value sleep, and your general opinion on dirty jokes.”
Amusement eased the renewed tension inside her and Lynnette teased her fingers over the low growth of his dark hair. “Boyfriend?”
The smirk that always made her stomach clench unfairly lifted his lips. “What do you need, sweetheart?”
She licked her lips as her core ached in undeniable response. “You. And maybe some of these lights on, so I can see what’s mine.”
She swore to all the gods, his eyes actually sparked as his expression heated. He leaned in and ghosted his lips over hers, pressing their bodies tight to each other and letting her feel his arousal. Then he eased back, softening the sturdy grip he’d had on her, and said, “Yes, ma’am.”
She had about twenty seconds to draw a clearer breath and possibly reconsider.
She used the time to kick her comforter down and push herself up a bit. Then the overhead light lit up, only to half brightness, and Lynnette squinted for a moment as her eyes sought out the man who had to have triggered it. Her favorite thing about the overhead light fixture was that it had three settings—one so dim that a string of clear holiday lights could outshine it—the one he’d chosen, which did enough without acting like a beacon in the middle of the night, and of course full illumination. She generally only used that one when she was cleaning.
Lance crossed his arms in front of his midsection, took hold of his shirt, and peeled the fabric off his body. His tags clinked softly as they fell back against his skin, but they only briefly drew her eye. She’dseenhim shirtless, but in nurse-mode her brain was capable of compartmentalizing and downplaying certain things. Namely, the lusty thoughts about how deliciously muscular his upper body was and how tantalizing that small trail of dark hair that disappeared down his pants was and how the tattoo on his chest, over his heart, shouldn’t have struck her as sexy as it did.
The ink was mostly in black silhouette style, with a respectably detailed depiction of the Marine Corps globe and anchor logo.The eagle overtop was shaded in hues of gray and black to help it stand apart, its wings about half spread and arched up as it leaned forward with its beak open in a silent cry. Wrapped around the logo was a classic ribbon, outlined in subtle gold, that circled the logo twice. The top strip bore the lettersSemper fi, and the bottom strip finished the phrase with‘til I die. All of the lettering was in stark crimson. The entire tattoo was probably the size of a real heart and reached just above where his tags fell, leaving almost no overlap.
She knew he also had a perfect replica tattoo on his right arm of the insignia of his final rank, color and all. It was positioned to match exactly where the badge would sit on his uniform sleeve. He’d explained all of that with pride when she’d commented on it days prior. And of course, she knew about his large American flag tattoo on his other arm.
Lance chuckled as he popped the button on his pants, his belt already missing. “You’re gonna give me a big head, you keep staring at me like that.”
Heat rushed to her face and Lynnette forced a scoff. “I said I wanted to look, remember.”
His eyes raked over her as if she were already naked. “Very true.” He licked his lips. “Do I get to look tonight, too?”
He was asking. She’d basically told him to strip for her, knowing full well how aroused he was, and he was stillaskingrather than assuming.
It seemed only polite to answer him with actions rather than banter.
Lynnette maneuvered to her knees on the center of the bed and gathered up the oversized shirt she tended to sleep in. Generally, the only thing she wore beneath it was a pair of panties, but since she’d asked him to come back, she’d made the choice to tug on her jogging shorts for decency. In hindsight, that was dumb. Part of her had known then what she wasexpecting if he did return. But she shook the internal lecture from her mind and pulled the worn fabric over her head, her movements not nearly as seductive as his had been.
The groan he let out suggested he disagreed. “Goddamn.” He had a hand on his length, outside his loosened jeans, when she could see again. His tongue ran once more over his lips before he dragged his eyes up to hers. Neither shame nor apology shone in those heated pools of green. Only a hunger so raw it nipped at the air. “I wanna peel those tight shorts off, kiss your sore feet, then lay back and let you ride my face ‘til you scream.”
Her mouth went dry as long-neglected parts of her perked up. She occasionally read books where men talked like that, but she’d never in a million years thought she would hear any such words in reality.The real thing is so much hotter.Lynnette licked her own lips, her gaze slipping from his back down his chest, to the hand he still had clenched and slowly dragging along his length. Then she reached inside, scraped up the last of her hesitation, and pitched it out the window.
Lynnette shuffled aside to make room for him on the bed and patted the mattress. “You should get off your feet, anyway.”
He clicked his tongue and released himself in order to crook a finger at her. “Uh-uh, gorgeous. Shorts off first. C’mere.”
Jesus.His words weren’t even unordinary; it made no sense why they hit the way they did. She was only glad her body had decided to take the proverbial wheel while her brain played catch-up, otherwise her every awkward delay would surely kill the mood. But she was already sliding off the side of the bed, not two feet from where he stood, her blood like fire in her veins.
Lance moved closer, eyes traveling over her again. “If there’s somewhere you don’t want me to touch you, tell me now, sweetheart.”
She forced herself to reflect on the question and importance of it. But she couldn’t think of any such thing, so she shook herhead and lifted a hand to brush the tips of her fingers over his abdomen. “I want you to touch me,” she whispered. “And I want to touch you.”
He settled both hands on her hips, his palms rough and invigorating against her skin. “That is not going to be a problem.”
She smiled.
He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her shorts, catching her panties simultaneously, and bent to take her lips in a sensual kiss as he pushed the fitted material down her hips. The kiss only served to further rile her, and was far too brief, and then he was dropping to his knees to help her step from the fabric altogether. Leaving her bare and directly before him.
Lance curled his hands around her legs, pressing a kiss to first one thigh, then the other. He raked his gaze up her body without rising to his feet, meeting her flushed stare from that so intimate position, and gave her legs a squeeze. “If I were a religious man, this is where I’d pray.” His lips found the inner curve of one thigh. “Right here. Every morning, every night.”
Lynnette swallowed hard and rested a hand on his shoulder. “That seems a bit much.”
He grinned, stretched up to press another kiss to her stomach, and finally stood before her. “Bare minimum. I might still do it, just to convince you I know your worth.” Instead of letting her respond, he scooped her up and climbed onto the bed. “But before we worry about that, I believe you need to take up position on your new throne. My face.” He set her down, stretched out his legs, and winked at her. “I believe you will find my tongue exceptionally talented.”
