A SEAL's Courage (Military Match #1)(56)

He was a drug, and she was addicted. A fly willingly caught in his web.

As if sensing her surrender, he turned her back to the counter. His large, warm hands furrowed beneath the waistband of her pajama pants and pushed them down. When they pooled at her feet, he gripped her now bare ass in his hands and lifted her like she weighed nothing, setting her down on the counter, then edged between her thighs. He reclaimed her lips, never once giving her room to protest, as his hands moved to his fly, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. He released her long enough to shove them down his hips, then pulled her to him and thrust home.

Lauren gasped at the sweet invasion, her body arching into his. She couldn’t say no to him any more than she could stop breathing. Her body rose to his, her hips thrusting against him.

He wasn’t gentle or tender or slow. His hips pumped into her, his rhythm hard and fast and brutal. His thick length filled her insides, sliding so deep it bordered on the brink of pain. And yet she couldn’t stop herself from responding. He hit a sweet spot deep inside, and pleasure erupted along her nerve endings. Her body liquefied, his to do with as he pleased.

He thrust deep again and again, and Lauren wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding tight. She pushed against him, welcoming the luscious tension coiling within her, her last chance to connect to him.

Trent dropped his head onto her shoulder, never once apologizing or slowing, but continually pushing harder, deeper, beyond her boundaries…then demanding more.

It didn’t last long. In a matter of minutes they were shuddering together, her body bowing into him, shaking uncontrollably as her orgasm claimed her. He groaned into her throat, his hips jerking as he emptied himself deep inside of her.

Just as quickly as it began, it ended, leaving her shaking, a sense of ultra-vulnerability curling through her. “I want more, Trent.”

She wanted to keep what they had. Even if there was a chance they wouldn’t last. Even it was only a few months. She wanted all of him. Wanted to call him her boyfriend, to announce their relationship to the whole damn world.

Wanted him to tell her he wanted her, too.

His body stiffened against her. He held her for the briefest seconds, then pulled out and turned away from her, doing up his pants as he left the room.

Her chest squeezed, all the air leaving her lungs. His seed already spilled out to coat her inner thighs, no doubt making a mess of her kitchen counter. Never mind that they hadn’t even thought about a condom or the fact that she could end up pregnant. Wouldn’t that just be cat’s meow? Having his baby knowing he didn’t love her. The thought was killing her, and she couldn’t move. She sat frozen, afraid if she so much as breathed, she’d shatter into a thousand, irreparable shards.

A minute later Trent stopped in the kitchen entrance, fully dressed now. His brow furrowed, eyes filled with a palpable regret. “I’m sorry, Lauren. I am. But I can’t.”

He didn’t wait for her to respond, but turned and strode away. The entire house seemed to fill with an unbearable strained silence that gripped her chest in a vise.

Thirty seconds later the front door opened with a whoosh of air disturbed, then closed with a quiet snap. She flinched and held her breath, knowing what was coming but waiting for it all the same. When his motorcycle growled to life outside in the driveway, the tears finally came. As she listened to his engine fading into the distance, they dripped one by one down her cheeks.

It was over. She loved him, and he wasn’t coming back. The sad part was, as much as it hurt, she couldn’t be sorry for the time she’d spent with him. He’d given her something she could never in a million years regret: all of himself. For a single, glorious month, he was hers. He’d taught her that sex wasn’t the evil thing she’d grown up believing it to be. It could be beautiful and life altering. He’d calmed her insecurities and proven it really was possible that a good man could want her.

He’d given her wings, freedom from the past. Freedom to revel in her sexuality, to glorify in it even.

She’d also accomplished what she’d set out to do when she’d signed up for that blasted dating service. She’d lost her virginity. She’d had her first fling and, now, her first love. All in one fell swoop. She’d treasure those memories. Even if right now all they did was make her want to curl into a ball on the floor and sob.

*



He was miserable. He was at a party meant to be a celebration, a night of fun, and he was fucking miserable.

Seated on the steps of the back deck of his parents’ house a week later, Trent braced his elbows on his knees and stared out over the darkened yard. There were no less than a hundred people milling about the space, half of whom he’d never met. The sun had long since set, and three hours in, the party was still going strong. They’d set up tables outside, and Dad had brought out the tiki torches, setting a glowing perimeter around the yard.

Mom had done exactly what he’d expected. She’d insisted on cooking, and now moved from table to table playing the ultimate hostess, checking on her guests and refilling plates and drinks. Will and Sky were ensconced in the middle of a crowd, laughing and talking. Dad, last he’d checked, was telling war stories.

The whole evening was a huge success. Everyone appeared to be having fun. Everyone except him.

He’d put on cheerful facade, for his brother’s sake, had made a toast in their honor, had laughed and forced himself to mingle. Now he had a damn headache. He couldn’t get into the mood if he tried.