A Few Good Men

It was both the greatest pleasure he’d ever known and the greatest torture. He wanted to follow the desire in him to its natural conclusion, to fulfill all that he’d dreamed about over the past six months, the thoughts of which had kept him alive, and claim Sara body and soul right there on the beach. But he couldn’t. Not because it was a public place and the act would be behavior unbecoming, but because while he tasted the sea on her lips, he became aware of the tang of salt from another source: her tears.

Eric groaned and broke contact, drawing her into his arms instead. She snaked her hands so that they grasped his shoulders from behind, her face tucked into his chest.

“God, oh, God, Eric…I’m so, so sorry. This…you and me…” She drew back.

He marveled at the dampness in her eyes glistening like the stars beginning to emerge on the eastern horizon. “I should never have contacted you. Should never have let things get out of hand…”

“Shh. We don’t have to talk about that now.” Eric found it impossible to swallow past the dryness of his throat. “I just want…need to hold you right now. Please. Just for a little while.”

Her response was instant and complete. She burrowed further into his chest, her hip resting against his arousal. Eric closed his eyes and rested his chin on the top of her sweet-smelling head. In that one moment, he knew that if the option were offered him, he’d sell his soul to the devil in order to remain like this with Sara forever.

AN HOUR LATER BACK at her house, Sara felt as if she was violating some sort of unwritten code. Against her better judgment, she’d invited Eric in. He now sat in the old wood rocker next to the cold fireplace, holding a beer in his hands, the chair looking comically too small to hold his large frame.

She’d forgotten how big he was. Much larger than Andy had been. He seemed to fill every corner of the house with his presence. Something lost not even on the dog; the golden retriever lay at Eric’s boots, his head on his paws while his watery eyes watched his every move in case there was another pat in the offing.

“I…I think the pasta must be done,” Sara said quietly, breaking the silence that had settled between them.

She couldn’t have ducked out of the room more quickly had there been a pack of coyotes nipping at her heels. It wasn’t until she was alone in the kitchen again that she allowed herself a deep breath that did nothing to steady her.

What was he doing here?

She leaned a shoulder against the refrigerator, having imagined Eric’s return countless times in her dreams. Her fantasies, really. Harmless musings that found him claiming her mouth the way he had on the beach and much, much more.

Of course, she’d never intended for them to come true. Had been convinced that she’d done a good job covering her cyber tracks.

How had Eric found out it was her? Was it something she’d said along the way? Oh, God, had he known all along?

“I think I have you figured out,” Eric had written three months ago.

Sara’s fingers had hovered over the keyboard, afraid to respond, wondering if she should shut down, pretend she hadn’t heard what he’d said. She hadn’t wanted it to be over. Needed for exchanges between her and Eric to continue for as long as she could safely arrange it.

“There’s a bad girl lurking within you, Samantha. And I want to tempt her out.”

She’d relaxed when he’d used her alias. He hadn’t been talking about her real identity at all, but responding to her sometimes-raunchy posts about what she’d like to do to him if they were in the same room together.

“Sara?”

The sound of Eric’s voice behind her nearly made her jump out of her skin.

The pasta!

She forced herself to take the pan from the burner and emptied the contents into a colander in the sink, following with a burst of cool water to cease the cooking process. No matter that her fingers burned from where she’d left the metal handle over the heat, her mind kept marrying the contents of their e-mails to each other with the fact that they now were in the same room.

And damn her wanton soul, she wanted to act out on every one of those cyber fantasies. Her favorite of which had taken place right here in this room.

“How can I help?” Eric asked.

His voice sounded right behind her, too close, too intimate.

The bottom dropped out of her stomach, making her feel oddly weightless. She turned to ask him to wait in the other room until she finished, to tell him that she couldn’t think when he was this close…and found herself unable to say anything at all.

He stood with his hands jammed into the pockets of his fatigues as if trying to keep them from doing something else. The saying, “idle hands are the devil’s play-things,” rang through her mind…and immediately trailing it was, I want to be that bad girl.

She stepped the few inches necessary to bring her within touching distance, raking her gaze over his fine, male physique. Damn, but marines had to be the sexiest guys on earth. Raw, solid muscle and deadly intent. And if she was correct, Eric had just put her directly in his sights.

Sara leaned in to kiss him, possessed by a flash of desire to yank fantasy into mind-blowing reality. He didn’t hesitate to return her kiss, his groan reaching inside to a place she’d long forgotten about. A place that had been hollow, empty, for much too long and now clamored for attention, demanded to be filled. Pure, unadulterated need zinged through her veins. She tugged his khaki shirt from his waist and he sucked in his stomach to help her. Finally, her fingers were touching the rippling waves of his muscles. Hot, so strong. Her mouth watered and she kissed him more deeply even as he hauled her sweatshirt up and off, barely breaking contact before she melted against him again, flesh against flesh.

She wanted to feel all of him…now.

She couldn’t seem to take his belt off fast enough, and the same applied with him and her jeans. Finally, they each abandoned their efforts and focused on their own clothing until nothing separated them but unwanted air.

Sara knew a heartbeat of pause as she stared at the exquisite male specimen in front of her. Eric could easily have been carved from granite, standing at least six-three without a cell of unwanted weight on him anywhere. His prime physical condition made him virtually ageless even though she knew he was thirty.

He seemed to be asking with his gaze alone if she was sure she wanted to do this. That even now if she wanted to turn back, he would. The knowledge made her grateful…and all the more determined to have him…

SWEET JESUS, SHE WAS everything and more than he’d imagined.

Eric wrapped his arms around the hotly naked woman who stepped closer to him. She was soft and warm where he was cold and hard. And she smelled better than any-one had the right to. A bit of lavender with the tangy scent of the sea.

And her mouth…dear Lord, her mouth was the thing of which dreams were made.

He couldn’t have been more surprised when Sara had stepped into his arms. He could have sworn she’d been about to throw him from the kitchen. Ever since they’d returned from the beach, she’d been antsy and uncomfortable in his presence.

Then she’d turned and kissed him and he’d forgotten about everything he’d wanted to say to her and focused on everything he’d been waiting to show her instead.

Every moment of every long night of the past six months were packed into his kiss. If he could devour her, he would. She tasted like salvation and pure temptation combined. Her tongue was merciless, dipping in and out of his mouth so that he felt like he was chasing it, chasing her. He raised his hands to rest on either side of her head and held her still, breaking contact briefly to stare deep into her eyes, and then leaning in for another taste. She clutched his wrists in her hands.

The two of them stood there, completely naked, just kissing for a time Eric was helpless to measure. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been with a woman, much less only kissed her when he could be doing much more.

She made a small sound at the back of her throat and he smiled, finally moving his hands from her head to her shoulders, and then down over the hot silk of her back.So long…so graceful. He pressed his fingers along the line of her spine, following it down to the high swell of her bottom. Then farther still, dipping into the shallow crevice inward until he probed her swollen womanhood from behind. He was surprised to find her so wet, so ready.

He groaned and picked her up. She automatically curved her legs around his hips, sandwiching his erection between her engorged labia. He turned her toward the kitchen island and sat her down, resisting the urge to enter her to the hilt right then and there. Instead, he reached for his discarded pants and took out the single condom there.

“I’m…I’m on the pill,” she whispered into his ear before he sheathed himself.

He pulled back slightly to look at her.

“I…I never stopped taking it.” She licked her lips, her pupils dilated so that her eyes were nearly black with need.

He kissed her deeply…and still sheathed himself. Confusion registered on her face.

“My dad always told me that you should always protect a lady,” he said.

She opened her mouth to protest as he hauled her hips closer to him until she was on the edge of the counter and entered her.

Whatever words she might have uttered were eclipsed by a soft gasp. Her eyelids fluttered closed and she arched her body, sensation appearing to take over. He helped her lie back against the counter. Eric’s blood surged double time, her immediate response to their joining heightening his own reaction.

He’d waited so damn long for this. Too long. He planned to take his time getting to a destination that he had only dreamt about.