Survivor (First to Fight #2)(59)

“Please.” I strain to create more friction, but it’s useless with his rock hard body above me, holding me down to suffer the teasing strokes.

“Please what?”

“Make me come. Please. I wanna come.”

His thrusts increase and he adds a finger to my clit, just a light, teasing touch, but it, combined with his body enveloping me, his cock overpowering me, builds an orgasm that is a release in every sense of the word. It washes over me in one, fluid wave that builds for a second time as the pressure of his finger and the speed of his thrusts increase. When it hits, a sob tears free of my throat with each slap of our bodies until my cries turn soundless.

He comes with a full-body shudder and a shout that he clamps off by pressing his face into my hair. He rests his weight on me, heaving unsteady breaths and sweaty, his chest sticking to mine, but neither of us care—or have the ability—to move.

When he finally sums up the energy to move, he lifts and simply falls onto his back. Concerned, I prop up on one arm and look down at him. “Are you o—”

His hand covers my mouth and he says without opening his eyes, “If you ask me if I’m okay one more time, I’m gonna f*ck the worry right out of you.” He pauses, considering. “Once I catch my breath.”

“I think that might kill me.”

“Be fun trying,” he says, then smothers my laugh with a kiss.





Five Years Later



“THANK GOD! I thought we’d never find you.”

I angle my head and find Livvie and Ben climbing up the bleachers, their two oldest children following close behind. Livvie holds another in one of those wrap carriers on her chest and Ben has the last on his shoulders.

“Almost didn’t,” Sofie says beside me, her smiling eyes shielding the sun with a hand. She leans against the arm I have wrapped around her shoulders and I smile as I look out over the growing crowd. I’ll never get tired of feeling her in my arms. I plan to keep her there for the next, oh, fifty or so years. That may be enough time to make up for the years we lost…and by then maybe I’ll finally be tired of kissing her. “They’re just about to start.”

And just because she enjoys it, she kisses the underside of my jaw.

Or maybe I won’t.

“Yeah, well you try corralling five children.” Livvie settles on Sofie’s other side and starts unwrapping the baby. “Cole, Phoebe. You two sit right here in front of me. Help Daddy keep an eye on Henry, please. And keep it down, James is sleeping.”

“I think you lost count,” Sofie comments. “Last I checked you only have four kids.”

Livvie smiles at the sleepy baby in her lap. “You forgot to count Ben. He plays with the kids instead of getting them ready.”

As if to punctuate her statement, Henry squeals as Ben flips him over his shoulders, narrowly missing the family a step down in front of them. “I couldn’t help it if Henry wanted me to show him the proper way to conduct a search and rescue mission.” He takes a seat next to Livvie, placing Henry on his lap. He leans over and kisses his wife on the mouth.

“It was a tablet, Ben,” she manages, though there are two bright pink spots on her cheeks.

“A man has to have his electronics, spitfire.” He kisses her again, the argument forgotten.

Sofie turns and looks up at me. She digs a finger into my ribs and I grunt. “It makes sense now. This is why Rafe was almost late to his own graduation!”

I hold my free hand up in mock defense. “That was totally not my fault.”

“You said you were looking for his cap and gown, but I know for a fact I hung it up in his closet two weeks ago.”

“The boy never did learn the proper way to clean his room,” I say instead of answering. When caught, a man’s first defense is to deny, deny, deny.

She narrows her eyes. “What were you two doing in there?”

Shaking my head, I say, “Bro code, babe.”

When that doesn’t work, evade.

“They’re my brothers!”

“Yeah,” I say with a grin. “But they’re my sons.”

And if all else fails, always break out the charm.

“I’m going to find out,” she says, but she melts into my side anyway, laying her cheek against my chest. Her hand comes up to my ribs and I tuck my arm more firmly around her, bringing my hand to rest on her swollen belly. As if the baby knows I’m there, an arm or an elbow or a little foot connects with my palm, bringing a smile to my lips. If there’s anything to be said about life with Sofie now, it’s that each and every day gives me more and more reasons to smile.

Sofie winces. “This girl must take after you,” she says as I rub her stomach to soothe the ache. “Not even out of the womb and she’s already practicing her moves.”

“Tough,” Ben says. “Like her Uncle Ben.”

“You wish,” I say.

“Where’s Donnie?” Sofie asks, probably to stop the familiar argument. “Shouldn’t he be here by now? I know Louisiana is a new state and all, but we’ve moved enough since you reenlisted that he should be used to it by now.”

“He left when we did,” I say, looking up to scan the crowd. “He should be here. He wouldn’t miss this.”