Page 102 of Keeping a Warrior

Grumbling, they complied. Someone went down to the lobby to arrange for the base duty driver to pick them up.

Rhys gripped Shane’s hand in goodbye.

“I’m weak as a kitten from the blood loss,” Shane said, “or else I’d bust out of here with you.”

“Nah, just stay here and get better, man.” Rhys nodded toward Matt, who was trying to get answers about Shane’s condition from the nurse. “He’s been wrecked. I don’t think he could take it if you had a relapse.”

Matt didn’t want to leave, but along with Devon’s cajoling, Rhys managed to pry him loose by pointing out he smelled like shit mixed with cordite, and that he might give Shane flashbacks of the outpost and ambush if he didn’t shower and change.

“I actually don’t remember the ambush,” Shane muttered to Rhys. “Or anything about that day at all. The whole thing’s a blank.”

“Work with me here,” Rhys muttered back. “Dude’s running on fumes. He needs a nap and a shower.”

Finally they were all ensconced in the duty van, which whisked them to the Base Exchange so they could load up on toiletries and snacks.

“I need to buy a weed whacker for my hairy legs,” Devon said ruefully to Rhys. “You think they’ll let me bring it home?”

At the transient quarters they checked in and received their rooming assignments. Of course Devon had a room to herself. “Give me an hour, okay?”

It was an interminable hour as Rhys and Smudge took turns showering. Smudge didn’t bother to shave his beard, as anxious as he was to go call Darla, and soon he’d banged out the door.

Rhys took the time to get his cheeks baby-smooth, anticipation roiling through him at an almost unbearable pitch. He braced his hands on the edge of the sink, willing his body to calm down. The last thing he wanted to do was knock on Devon’s door with drool on his chin and an erection tenting out his pants.

Right on the dot of sixty minutes, Rhys slipped into clean sweats and a T-shirt, the soft fabric feeling strange on his skin after months of salt-stiffened uniforms and body armor. He picked up his duffel that contained a new box of condoms and a change of clothes, then padded down the hall to Devon’s room.

Be cool, man. Just follow her lead. Let her set the pace. She’s in charge.

The entirety of his personal pep talk flew out the window when Devon opened the door. She wore nothing but a brief towel, her brown hair a soft cloud that flowed over her bare, freckled shoulders.

“God, Devon...” he choked on a wave of pure desire.

Grabbing his hand, Devon tugged him inside, the duffel dropping unnoticed to the floor as every sweet, perfumed inch of her melted into his arms.

Her kiss was spicy sweet, her tongue slick and agile. Rock hard and aching by the time she pulled back, Rhys clenched his fingers in the towel about her hips, desperate to touch.

Devon stroked his cheek, her eyes soft and luminous. “Put your hands on me.”

Loosening the towel, she let it slip to the floor, her taut body pressing against his from chest to knee, so close Rhys could feel the tight buds of her nipples even through the soft cotton of his T-shirt.

He ripped the offending shirt over his head, and she hummed her approval against his throat as he ran trembling hands along her back and down to her ass, the firm smoothness of those plump cheeks sending his blood racing.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, catching his breath when she traced his rigid length with teasing fingers. “Jesus, Devon!”

With a low laugh, she sank to her knees in front of him and eased his sweatpants down inch by inch. When his cock sprang free, they both moaned. Wrapping her fingers around it, Devon licked the head and smacked her lips at the taste. The sight of her on her knees, all tangled hair and pink-tipped breasts, made Rhys clench his teeth in a mighty struggle for control.

“I’m about to embarrass myself here,” he grunted, every muscle tight.

“I know.” Devon dragged her tongue through another slick bead of precome. “That’s why we’re gonna take the edge off right now.”

What followed was like nothing Rhys had ever experienced. The wet heat of Devon’s mouth, the pressure of her throat, the sight of his cock stretching her swollen lips wide—it was like every dirty fantasy he’d ever had come to life.

Only a million times better.

Devon took him to the root, with a growling enthusiasm that ratcheted his enjoyment up to heart attack levels. Her hair was silky soft in his fingers, and she rested her hands on his hips, encouraging him to thrust.

He did, harder and harder, until he was outright fucking her mouth...until his orgasm boiled up from his aching balls and emptied them in hard, wrenching spurts down her throat. She swallowed everything before licking him clean.

“Mmm.” She kissed her way back up his body to plaster herself against him. “You taste so good.”