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She drove us back to this hotel because, despite my assurance that I was fine, I think I passed out in her car on the drive back.
We spent a passion-filled night together that makes my cock swell with just the thought of our time together.
She’s not solely to blame. Hell, she could argue that I was the one driving these decisions. She mentioned being the type of person who made rushed decisions, and it felt like kismet because so am I. Even joining the Marine Corps was because of a bet. After eight years, it landed me a job with Cerberus. Of course, I’d heard of the motorcycle club that has a home base in Farmington, New Mexico. You don’t make it through boot camp without someone mentioning the group of guys who spend their lives traveling all over the world to take down sex trafficking rings. When I got that call, I told them yes immediately. A lot of guys pushed themselves with the intent of getting that invite. Me? I just found that despite it being a bet I won, I was sort of good at being a soldier. My analytical side kept me safe, as did my ability to make snap decisions. It’s as if my impulsive personality was training me for my military career and my job that came after I was discharged and joined Cerberus.
What’s happening right now isn’t part of that, or at least that’s what I keep telling myself.
She isn’t part of some grand plan. This didn’t happen for any other reason than I was horny and she was sad. Following through with the vows because her brother seemed like an asshole was one decision I’ll have to live with. It’s something I’ll have to take corrective actions to remedy. It’s no big deal. It wouldn’t be the first time I had to spend a little time rectifying a situation.
There’s no way she’s part of my life’s plan.
Right?
It’s not possible.
But didn’t I have those same thoughts the first time that drill instructor got in my face and tapped my forehead with the rim of his hat as his spittle landed on my chin? Didn’t I want to blacken his eye and find a way to get out of that choice I stupidly made?
Wasn’t staying the best thing I ever did in that situation?
I’m still arguing with myself when the bathroom door opens. I’d fully expected her to get dressed and be gone by the time I made it back out into the room, but I was wrong. She hasn’t even bothered to put clothes on, and I see nothing wrong with her choices when she steps around the steamed glass of the shower and joins me.
Water pelts her skin, her dusky pink nipples tightening and making my mouth water as I look down and run my gaze over her glistening body. When she runs her hands up my chest, her slick hands skating over my skin, I realize that maybe it’s hasty to run to the courthouse and demand an annulment.
I mean, would that even be possible since we clearly consummated everything last night?
I decide that living in tomorrow or even in three hours from now is pointless. This moment is the only one we have.
I cup her jaw, looking into her eyes. I don’t say a word and she doesn’t break the silence either.
There’s time for talking later. Together, we can figure out what we’ll do.
I pull my hand back when she leans forward, pressing her lips to my sternum. I drop my hands to my sides, breaking all contact with her when she begins to lower herself, her mouth creating a trail of need down my body.
When she’s on her knees, my cock stiff and angled right at her mouth, I figure I can play along a little longer.
“Suck your husband’s cock, Beth.”
Her grin, the one she shoots my way right before the warmth of her mouth encapsulates the head of my cock, tells me that I just might not be the one in full control of my life right now.
But hell, I can do this a little longer. What’s the harm in that?
Chapter 4
Beth
Even in his drunken state last night, the man was adamant about condoms. I know it could’ve had more to do with not getting me pregnant than worry about STDs, but it doesn’t stop me from slipping his cock into my mouth.
I feel power in his sharp intake of breath and the way his stomach seems to cave in, a feat of epic proportions, considering the row of muscles lining his abdomen.
I can say with experienced confidence that there aren’t that many men like him in Lindell. If there are, they’ve all been scooped up and claimed. The man is built like a mountain, with dips and hills, ridges of muscle I never would’ve guessed were hiding under his loose t-shirt and jeans.
