Take the Fall (Take the Fall, #1)(43)

“Stop talking,” I demand. I can’t concentrate on anything when he says he loves me. When he reminds me that he has, in fact, kept his word.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs, looking down at me. He seeks out my lips, my mouth, and tongue. Over and over he touches me, using his body to torture me in the most erotic of ways, leaving me hanging on the edge of a precipice.

When he abruptly pulls out, I cry out at the loss of him, but he silences my protest with a hot kiss. He makes a trail of hot kisses all the way down my body, until his broad shoulders are between my legs and his hair is brushing against my inner thighs.

The first stroke of his tongue makes me fist the sheets while the second has me crying out his name. I feel my inner muscles tightening around him. “Oh, God,” I moan. “I’m close. So close.”

Just as my orgasm starts, he stops and flips me over. “Why are you stopping?”

Grabbing my breasts he leans over me and kisses my shoulder, then slides inside of me. “Thought we could try it this way. Never did before.”

I rock back into him, closing my eyes to the pleasure. “There are a lot of things we never did.”

I feel his smile against my back. “Good thing we have all weekend.”

“Like you can last that long,” I say.

He bites my shoulder. “Challenge accepted.”





Seth


THREE WEEKS LATER

We have a routine now…I guess. Rowan and I barely talk over the phone—sometimes I’ll send a text that she’ll eventually answer—but then we screw like bunnies on the weekends.

For any other man, this would be heaven. For me, it’s f*cking hell.

It’s like Rowan has pigeonholed me into a specific part of her life and the rest can’t be touched. Only her body is allowed to be touched—not her heart, and certainly not her mind.

I jog along the main artery of Camp Lejeune, my breath coming out in white puffs of smoke. Vehicles, both civilian and federal, fill up the road. A lower-ranking Marine salutes as he walks past me, and I remember to salute him back almost too late.

Fresh recruits stumble off buses while drill sergeants bark orders. One of them—a freckle-faced kid fresh off the farm—looks like he’s about to piss himself. That wasn’t me when I got here. Oh, hell no.

I was pissed and bigger than the other guys. I had months of prison time under my belt and a reputation to match. Not that it did me much good. A lot of guys gave me a wide berth, but others looked at me like I was a piece of dog shit on the bottom of their shoe. All of them wanted to be there, but I was forced to be there by a f*cking crackpot judge with a ton of political influence. Only O’Dwyer spoke to me.

But that was probably the best thing that happened given the circumstances. Brian was a lifesaver, both literally and figuratively. He was hard-core Corps, his father and grandfather all serving before him. He was proud and he was more than willing to take on a punk-ass little shit like me. For some reason only known to him at the time, he had enlisted later in life, so he was older than me by a decade, at twenty-eight.

Later, during a particularly bad round of incoming fire in Afghanistan, he shared that he had gotten in trouble as a kid rebelling against his parents’ strict rules and ended up in jail after an aggravated assault conviction. He had recognized that look in my eye, but he had also figured out I hadn’t completely gone over to the dark side.

Brian had faced death more times in prison than I ever have while serving in the Marines. When I’m stateside, I’m as safe as your average guy. Maybe safer, since I know how to properly defend myself, with and without a weapon.

The flag retreat ceremony begins and I’m stuck outside, so I stand at parade rest since I can’t see the Stars and Stripes. I hide my smirk when I spot O’Dwyer a few clicks away. He was trying to sneak out early, but attempting to beat retreat is a risk at this time of day.

The first notes of the national anthem begin to play, and I snap to attention and salute. The entire base goes quiet; not even vehicles move. For me, this is the best part of the day. In winter, when the sun sets so early, it’s like the entire base, with permission from Mother Nature, is signaling for us to go home.

Only, I’m not sure where home is anymore. It’s certainly not Jacksonville, and it might not be Forrestville with Rowan like I planned.

Reading into Rowan’s words is proving difficult. Most of the time I ignore what she says and concentrate on what she’s saying without words: how she snuggles into me each night after we make love. How she keeps the house stocked with Butterfingers, my favorite candy. How she kisses me.

Yet, she can’t bring herself to greet me when I show up on Friday nights. I have to speak to her first. Touch her first. Everything is on me. That isn’t like Rowan. She usually gives as good as she gets. During sex, she is just as aggressive, just as amped up, and just as vocal as I am.

As soon as retreat is over, I jog over to the parking lot where I’d left my truck. Maybe it’s time to give Rowan a dose of her own medicine. Maybe that will wake her up and help her notice what’s in front of her.





Chapter 15





Rowan


Seth barely acknowledges me as he walks inside the house. Usually, he sweeps me up in his arms and carries me to the bedroom, while he alternates between dirty talk and saying how much he missed me during the week.