“Three rules. One night only, we use protection, and no real names. Got it.”
Then I finally pull her toward me and do what I’ve been itching to do since I first felt her lips on mine. I kiss her, hard. Her body melts against me, and she parts her lips with a little sigh.
As her scent surrounds me, my hunger for her grows. The taste of her lipstick, the sticky consistency, and the soft sounds she makes, like a kitten purring, etch themselves on my brain.
My hand runs up her back and rests at the nape of her neck. Her skin is warm and soft, and her pulse beats beneath my fingers.
I hold back, giving her the chance to pull away, to make a different decision. But instead, her fingertips trace down my chest, trailing over every ridge of muscle under my tight t-shirt.
“Should we move to the bed?” Her voice is breathy, and her feline eyes flash up to mine.
“Are you sure this is what you want?”
She keeps her gaze locked with mine as her fingertips slide over my belt buckle and to the bulge beneath. An involuntary shiver racks my body as she gently squeezes me.
“I’m sure.”
As the pressure against my pants increases, her smile widens, and she squeezes me again. I groan at her light, feminine touch.
I’m done kissing, I want more of this woman. I want to feel her skin and explore all her secret places. I want to make her writhe under me so she forgets why she’s here, and above all, I don’t want her to regret her decision.
I scoop my arm under her legs and lift her into my arms. With a surprised squeal, she grabs a hold of my shoulders. In two strides, I’m at the bed, and I throw her down on the covers. She scrambles onto her elbows and stares up at me with wide eyes.
“Too rough?”
She shakes her head. “No.”
Her hands reach for me, and her fingers loop through my belt buckle. Together, we pull off my pants, and then I climb onto the bed to undress her. Behind her bold moves, she’s trembling.
“Hey.” I tilt her head up so her gaze meets mine. “You can back out anytime.”
“I know.” Her voice is softer this time, less certain. “I don’t want to back out. I just…”
Her voice trails off, and I run a hand over her cheek. “You want me to leave?”
She pulls my hand toward her, and I to lean in to hear her. “No. It’s, just, I don’t usually do this.”
The admission costs her, and the confident mask slips. For a moment, I glimpse the vulnerable woman beneath.
“Neither do I.”
She raises an eyebrow. “You’re telling me you, a soldier, has never picked up a woman at a bar before?”
I don’t bother to correct her that I’m a sailor, not a soldier. Her skepticism has taken the focus off her, and I kiss the palm of her hand. “Not never. But not for a long time.”
“Why not?”
My mouth moves over her wrist, and I feel her pule flutter under my lips.
“I got picky in my old age.” My lips trail up the inside of her arm, planting soft kisses on her skin. With each kiss, I can feel her relaxing more and more.
She closes her eyes, and her voice turns breathy. “Why tonight?”
An image flashes into my brain. The slow piano music, rain splashing on asphalt, the weight of the coffin on my shoulders.
I squeeze my eyes shut tight. “Because I want to do something joyful.”
She goes still, and when I open my eyes, she’s staring at me, her gaze soft. Her finger traces my cheek.
