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As she let the water cascade over her body, she thought about the way the men made her feel. She wondered if she could allow Jaxon, Geno, Gator, and Jeb touch her when in the past any other man than Gabe made her panic and push them away. What was it about these Marines that had her considering having sex again?
Could it be how much they reminded her of Gabe or the simple fact they were his room mates and best friends so they represented safety? It seemed screwed up to allow those type of feelings make her give her body so freely.
But that thought didn’t sit right either. This confusion, the hunger for them was what led her to do the damn workout video. She was trying to clear her head and work out this need in her body. But instead her mind was consumed with getting involved in a ménage with four men and having sex again after three years of nothing.
She stepped out of the shower and dried off.
Alana put on some facial cream and then some special body lotion. She reapplied a little makeup. Not much, just some lip gloss and eye shadow. She sprayed her perfume and even made sure she’d shaved and was smooth in all the right places. That got her pausing and staring at herself in her mirror.
Her breasts looked fuller, her cheeks had a light blush to them, and she appeared happy. How could that be? How could meeting Gabe’s four best friends and roommates make her feel alive again? She swallowed the lump of emotion and battled for the umpteenth time over how she could consider getting intimately involved with four men, maybe five if Gabe got his head out of his ass.
She covered her mouth and gasped at her own thoughts. Holy shit, she was considering this. Hell, she was contemplating how it would play out and how intense and overwhelming sex could be for someone like her.
She felt the tears hit her eyes. She was inexperienced, small, and susceptible to their masculinity and charms. They were all big all over from muscles to personalities. She was shy, soft-spoken, not delicate in a way that she was fearful, weak, or timid, but more reserved. Could she handle four men? Could she handle any man other than Gabe touching her, fucking her?
She felt her cheeks warm and her pussy spasm, and she thought of them. All four sexy, eye candy Marines that wanted little ol’ her.
She stared at her body in the mirror. Her bra barely covered her full, large breasts. The belly ring she wore was sexy and youthful against her tight abs she worked so hard to maintain. Exercise had helped her deal with her emotions and the loss of Gabe. She worked out sometimes to exhaustion so her mind would stop thinking of him and missing him.
She ran her hand along her panties, tiny, sexy, black, and lacy. Would Jaxon like them? Would Geno be aroused by the piercing? Would Gator take his time making love to her, or would he lift her up and sink his cock in deep and fuck her hard against the wall? She closed her eyes and nearly moaned.
Jeb would surely take his time. He had big hands, capable hands that would take from her, make her beg to come.
Her eyes popped open, and she smirked. “You’re more than ready for this. You want them, and they want you. So what that Gabe is there? If he wants you still, then he will join them. Just relax and let go. If it falls apart, and things get all fucked up then at least you enjoyed the ride and the experience.”
Her heart hammered in her chest. She was never so brazen and calm when it came to sex or giving up her heart to someone. How the hell was she going to handle these men and have enough love to give each of them? What if they stopped caring? Would it hurt like Gabe not loving her anymore does? This was a greater risk than maybe she really understood. Perhaps letting go and lowering her guard wasn’t the answer. Maybe protecting her heart was the only logical thing to do?
* * * *
Gabe was sautéing the vegetables as Geno made the chicken saltimbocca. He was adding the prosciutto and the sage and preparing the pan for the chicken.
Gabe couldn’t believe he was doing this. His team was all showered, shaved, and ready to seduce Alana. And that was exactly what they were going to do. They wanted her. They were all attracted to her and saw her for the perfect woman she was. Smart, beautiful, a good head on her shoulders, and a body that aroused each of them, including himself. His mind focused on the ache in his leg, a constant reminder of his inability to satisfy her the way a perfect man could. It was a constant, throbbing pain that nothing made subside. Thinking of Alana, wanting her, needing her made the pain increase and his mind set him straight. He couldn’t have her. Not fully, not alone, not with this injury and with the scars on his soul.
“Pass the salt,” Geno said to him, and he nearly tossed the little glass shaker at him.
“Yo, what’s up with you? You’re going to burn the veggies,” Geno reprimanded.
He took the spatula from Gabe and moved the vegetables around in the large frying pan. They had a commercial stove and oven. They all enjoyed cooking but not entertaining. They never entertained except for a few football games with pizza and beers.
“Okay, what do you guys need help with?” Jaxon asked as he entered the room. “Jeb went to pick up Alana.”
Gabe looked him over. His commander, the leader of their team, one of his best friends, his brother, was dressed to kill. He wore a burgundy button-down shirt, with the first two buttons undone, dark black dress pants, black cowboy boots, as well as cologne. He was also clean-shaven and looking ready to get laid.
Gabe’s teeth clenched, and his heart pounded. But he wasn’t jealous. He was envious. Why couldn’t he appear perfect, unscathed by the demons of war, violence, and near-death? Why couldn’t he let go of the feelings of inadequacy and just embrace the one woman, the one person who completed him and made everything okay?
Because he wasn’t that big of a dick. Alana deserved men like Jaxon, Geno, Gator, and Jeb, who could put the war, the scars, and their pasts behind them and move on.
“Gabe? Gabe, what the fuck are you staring at?” Jaxon asked, interrupting his thoughts.
“You look like you’re going to a fucking club,” Gabe snapped at him.
Geno chuckled.
“Jealous?” Geno teased.
“Fuck no. Jealous of that old guy? I don’t think so,” Gabe replied with an angry attitude.
“Hey, I don’t think I look bad. This is my best fucking dress shirt.” Jaxon fixed the collar and ran his hand along the waistband to make sure it was tucked in neatly. It was so tight and tucked in it looked like his military uniform. Once a Marine, always a Marine.
