A SEAL's Courage (Military Match #1)(3)

Mandy nudged her with an elbow. “Come on. You know you would’ve said no. Besides.” Mandy dropped back against the sofa cushions with a tired sigh. “Jennifer was so happy when she came into my office the other day. I mean glowing. So is Skylar. The expression on her face when she looks at Will? I’ve never seen him so calm or so happy. I want that. One guy who makes me feel feminine and beautiful, who isn’t turned off by the fact that I can take care of myself. Clearly I won’t find it on my own.”

Lauren leaned back and lay her head against Mandy’s. “Me, either.”

Mandy reached for her hand. “So do this with me. Us. Go talk to Karen and decide for yourself. You’re right, you know. You shouldn’t lose your virginity to some jerk you meet in a bar. Or in the back of a Toyota like I did.”

Lauren blew out a heavy breath. “Fine. I’ll talk to Karen, but that’s all I’m promising you for now.”

Mandy was right about one thing: since Mary’s death, she’d been thinking about pushing herself beyond her comfort zone.

Mandy threw her arms around Lauren’s shoulders and squeezed gently. “You won’t regret it, Laur, I promise.”

Lauren laughed softly. “I sincerely hope not.”

*



Lying in the darkness of her bedroom, Lauren stared at the shadowy ceiling above her. A glance at the clock told her it was just past nine. She needed to be sleeping. After all, she had to be up at three, so she could be at the bakery by four. But no matter how many times she closed her eyes, sleep wouldn’t come.

All because she’d gone over to see Trent tonight. Steph’s casual mention of him two nights ago had inspired the worry.

For the longest time after he’d come home, Trent’s PTSD had meant he’d barely left his apartment, even to fill his fridge. It’s what had worried his family so much and why she’d taken to going over to see him on a regular basis. She’d wanted to help. A decision to bring him food one night had launched a thousand arguments and a thousand conversations.

Over the last year, he’d become a friend. She’d gone over to check on him one night after work, nine months ago now. Bringing him meals he could keep in the fridge and heat up later had always just been an excuse. She’d expected him to be his usual grumpy self, that he’d glare at her and tell her to leave. It’s what he always did. She’d barge into his apartment—because she’d been instructed not to take no for an answer—and he’d follow her around as she made him a meal or cleaned and complain about her “invading his damn house.”

This particular time, though, he’d actually invited her to stay. Ever since, it had become a tradition. Once or twice a week, she’d take him a meal or two, and he’d invite her to have dinner with him.

So it had been when she’d gone to see him after work today. They’d sat and chatted about their days while chowing down on the lasagna and garlic bread she’d brought over.

Now, hours later, she couldn’t sleep because she couldn’t stop seeing his smile. Being a serious man, he didn’t smile often, but when he did, he was downright magnificent. It transformed his whole face. Harsh, cut features softened, and his cobalt-blue eyes lit up like the sun.

God, she swore she’d gotten over her crush on him in high school. After all, he’d gotten married and had gone overseas, and she’d grown up and moved on. But since he’d come home, those scintillating feelings had begun to sneak up on her again. Except Trent was now divorced. Single. And that solitary fact teased her senses. Her body didn’t seem to care that he tended to treat her like she was another sister. That he didn’t seem to see her as a woman.

No, she always came away from time with him more aroused than she knew what to do with. Trent was every woman’s dream. Polite. Charming. Funny. A hard worker. And it all came in a rock-hard package. God help her, he’d become her naughty little secret.

Even now the addicting rumble of his laugh echoed through her mind, shivering down her spine and landing straight in her panties. He’d teased her about her need to clean whenever she came over. It had started as an excuse to stay, to force him to interact, but had long since become a nervous habit.

Tonight he’d bumped her shoulder and laughed, and that one simple contact lit her body on fire. Because lately she couldn’t help imagining what that hard body of his would feel like pressed against hers.

Giving in to the pull, she closed her eyes and slipped her hand inside her panties. Already hot and wet, a single glide over her swollen clit sent a heated shiver running through her. Her breathing hitched as her mind filled with the now familiar fantasy. Her favorite. The heat of his body against hers. His hot mouth skimming her neck, her shoulder, her ear. Teasing her sensitive skin. He’d slip those wonderfully long, warm fingers into her panties, massage her aching clit.

It was so real, she swore she could feel the hot huff of his breath in her ear. The callouses on the tips of his fingers. All too quickly, the luscious, achy pressure built. Heat prickled along her skin, and her inner muscles began a rhythmic squeezing, tightening and loosening. She rocked her hips into her hand, all the while imagining her fingers were his. Massaging. Circling. Driving her out of her mind with their ability to send her careening toward bliss at breakneck speed.

It didn’t take long. Just the thought of him had made her so hot a few flicks over her engorged clit pushed her over the edge. Her orgasm tore through her, a luscious, hot bubble that burst inside of her. She massaged through every blinding pulse, determined to make it last as long as possible.