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I put my arm around her shoulders and guided her to her room. After another lengthy good night kiss, I left her and immediately stripped for a cold shower. Once in bed, I lay there for a long time, in that half-awake, half-asleep stage thinking about all the things I wanted to do with and to her.
Something sounding like a whimper jolted me to full consciousness and I sat up, listening hard in the quiet of the night. A cry of ‘no’ rang from across the hall, followed by some muffled sounds and a thump.
“Shit,” I muttered. My heart raced, imagining all kinds of situations that could be happening, but if there was anyone in there, they were going to regret it soon. I reached into my nightstand drawer and withdrew my Glock 19, shoved in a loaded magazine, and slipped quietly out of my room. Her door was still partially shut like it had been earlier when I kissed her good night.
All my Marine training kicked in. With one hand on the trigger, I used the other to slowly open the door further and slithered my body through the crack. There was no light coming through the closed blinds, and even though my eyes were adjusted to the dark, I couldn’t make out enough details in her room. Another groan and a desperate ‘stop’ sounded near the center of the room, so I quickly felt for the light switch and flicked on the light, gun drawn. I saw nothing but the covers twisted and pulled off the bed toward the opposite side of the room.
Suddenly, a tousle of reddish brown hair and bemused eyes appeared over the side of the bed, eyes that grew even larger when she saw she was staring at the barrel end of a gun.
“Holt! What are you doing?” Maddy gasped.
“Are you alright?” I questioned tersely.
“I will be once you quit pointing that thing at me!” Her voice trembled, and I realized how crazed I must look from her point of view.
I lowered my pistol and reset the safety. As the flood of adrenaline left my body, I had to bend over and rest my hands on my knees to catch my breath. It took several deep breaths to calm my racing heart.
“Holt?”
Small pink-painted toes entered my line of vision on the floor. I dragged my eyes up smooth, shapely legs until the view was blocked by the hem of the t-shirt I’d loaned her a week ago. I couldn’t prevent the sense of satisfaction that she was sleeping in my clothes, even though I was certain Sara had provided her something different that she could have chosen. I straightened up, trying hard not to notice how her small curves gave my shirt a much more enticing shape than when I wore it.
A clearing throat diverted my attention, and I knew I’d been caught remembering how her boob felt cupped in my hand days that seemed like weeks ago. I wondered if she remembered, too, because just before I looked away, the smooth curves suddenly grew more pointed, and I was pretty sure her nipples had tightened into little buds before she crossed her arms over them.
Those hazel eyes looked at me with some confusion, but not before they flickered up and down my body covered only in a pair of tight, black boxerjocks, which were growing even tighter under her perusal. By the time her eyes reached my face, her cheeks were flushed, and her breathing was a bit faster. Her eyes flicked to the weapon still in my hand.
“Um, were you planning on taking me hostage or was there some other reason you went all Seal team on me? I mean, some people just knock, but, you know, whatever.” A hint of a smile played around her lips.
I couldn’t help but snicker. “First of all, Seals are part of the Navy. And while I have the utmost respect for them, never confuse them with us Marines who are our own elite group. And second, I heard you cry out, and I thought someone had broken in and was hurting you. Knocking kind of tips them off when you’re trying to sneak up on them.”
“Oh, right.” Her teasing expression fell, and she rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “I think I had a bad dream. It’s foggy now, but Paul Regis and Charly were in it. And I think you and Claire were, too, which is weird. Only this time, it was Paul holding a gun, and I was begging him not to hurt anyone. Then they all ganged up on me and were hitting me, and touching me…” She shivered. “I remember falling, and then suddenly I woke up on the floor when the light came on. I guess I fell out of bed.”
“Sounds like a combination of stresses piled together. Probably from all the intense conversations we had yesterday.” I put the gun on top of the dresser and held my arms out. “Come here, baby.”
She stepped willingly into my embrace, her arms wrapping around my waist while she rested her face against my chest. The top of her head reached just below my chin, so it felt natural to skim my nose against the silky texture of her hair so I could inhale her clean, sweet scent. She was doing her own nestling, rubbing her cheek against my chest and that slight movement caused her body to move against my hips where my dick was reacting to her motion. My arms tightened around her, and she wriggled again, this time with a little more pressure.
The little minx. She was doing it intentionally. I wondered if she understood what kind of fire she was playing with. I slid my hands down and held her hips in place, making sure she could feel exactly what she was doing to me.
“Maddy,” I warned, wanting her to understand I had my limits.
Her head lifted, and she gazed up at me with dilated eyes. Her mouth parted just enough to allow her tongue to lick her lower lip while her hair tumbled forward over the side of her face making her appearance somehow both beguiling and innocent, an enticing combination that made me groan.
“It seems you’re packing more heat than just your gun, Mr. Andrews,” she said in a husky voice, gyrating her hips just enough to snap my control.
“You’ve no idea, sweetheart, but unless you back away now, you’re about to find out,” I growled.
“Teach me,” she whispered breathlessly. “I want to find out. I know you said we should wait, but my life has been full of waiting, and I’m tired of it.”
The trust and desire in her eyes were my undoing. “Are you sure?” I tried to ask, but it sounded more like I was begging, which at this point I wasn’t above doing.
Her hands slid up my shoulders to grasp my head. “I’m sure,” she said breathlessly. “But I don’t know what to do.”
“Yes, you do. Just be yourself,” I rasped. “You’re completely perfect the way you are.”
I was done talking. Even with my eyes closed, I needed no guidance to find her lips. That was part of the beauty between us - we just fit and connected with no effort. Even those first few weeks, when our encounters usually ended in an argument, were proof we had sparks. We’d been on a path destined to collide, and finally, we’d reached the point where we could allow those sparks to catch fire.
She rose to the tips of her toes, sliding her lithe body along the way until she could wrap her arms around my neck and thread her fingers through my hair, holding me closer as our kiss grew in intensity. This time, it was her who stretched her tongue to invite mine to mingle with hers. While our mouths played and tasted each other’s, my hands were busy sliding up her sides, taking her sh
irt with them. When I couldn’t go any further, I pulled back from the kiss and looked questioningly at her. Without looking away, she raised her arms over her head. I took a step back as the shirt landed with a soft ‘plop’ on the floor. Her breathing hitched, and I could tell by the stiffness of her arms she was itching to cover herself, but she held herself still.
