A Few Good Men

Of course, he’d never expected Sara to accept.

But he certainly didn’t plan to give her a chance to change her mind.

What would he do if she did change her mind? He’d spent so much time fantasizing about “Samantha” that he hadn’t really adjusted to the fact that she was actually Sara. But somehow everything just clicked the instant he’d stood in front of her on that beach. He’d felt as if he’d known her. Not just over the past few years through his friendship with Andy, but for his entire life.

And he wanted her in his life, fair play or foul, he didn’t care. He couldn’t imagine a future without her in it.

He began to log off so he could drive to her place when he noticed he had an e-mail. Thinking that maybe Sara had zipped him off something before shutting down, he double-clicked the icon to find fellow marine Matt Guerrero’s name in his box.

He opened it.

“Hey. Just heard from Eddie. Court-martial is on for Brian. The date has been set for the third…”

Whatever hope that Eric felt slid off like an unbuttoned shirt.

IT TOOK ERIC TWENTY minutes to drive to Sara’s, and every minute that passed, the more he feared she’d changed her mind.

How many times over the past six months had he imagined events just like this? Feeling a need so deep, so hot, that he’d do anything in order to reach Sara?

Of course, nowhere in those imagined circumstances had she ever refused him. But now the possibility emerged a very real one, indeed.

Damn. How did he go about convincing her that his feelings were the real deal? That she needed him as much as he was coming to need her? Her stubbornness was the stuff of which wars were made. Two factions refusing to budge and meet in the middle. It was either their way or the highway. And that highway ended up being a crater-filled no-man’s-land where deadly bombs were detonated and things escalated to the point where there was no truce to be had, only seething bitterness.

He didn’t want that to happen with Sara. Wouldn’t let it happen.

He tightened his hands on the steering wheel, understanding that he could defuse the situation himself in a simple, quick manner…

He could back out before tempers got too hot. Leave Sara to believe that hers was the right decision. Deny his own need for her.

Not an option, he argued.

He pulled into her driveway and stalked toward her front door, determined to face whatever it was she threw his way.

Thankfully, she grabbed his arm and hauled him inside and kissed him wildly.

She hadn’t changed her mind…

MASTURBATION, no matter the implements, was no comparison to the real thing.

Sara pushed a surprised Eric down onto her bed and stripped her clothes off, item by item before going to work on his until they were both nude. Then she climbed up onto the bed, straddling him in a shameless way that might have mortified her under normal conditions.

But what she was feeling was anything but normal. Her blood was on fire, raging through her body like a licking blaze, burning up every practical thought in her head. She was acting on pure instinct and fundamental desire.

And she had never felt better, more in control.

She knew that this was nothing more than an illusion. That her body’s desire to mate with Eric was making her think she was in control, when actually her hormones were ruling her actions. But just then she couldn’t have cared less. She just wanted to feel Eric inside her…now!

She scooted up his thighs, the springy hair there lightly scratching her as she bent to kiss him.

Eric groaned and held her head in that way that made her feel special. Like he could merely kiss her and he’d be the happiest man alive.

But she wanted more, oh, so much more.

She slid to cover his rock-hard erection between her pulsing folds, shuddering the instant the thick knob knocked against her hypersensitive clit.

Oh, yes.

Her own fingers could never bring her this much pleasure. The pure bliss of his hot, satiny hardness against her slick softness.

She reached between them to guide him inside her, reveling in the long, thick length.

“Whoa,” Eric whispered roughly. “Hold on a second while I get a rubber.”

“Can’t…wait…”

She ignored his attempts to stop her as she sank down over him, inch by delectable inch, taking him in.

He groaned and stopped fighting. Both of them stayed like that for a long moment, unmoving, absorbing every sweet sensation created by their joined bodies.

Sara swore she could feel her heart beating in every part of her body. Almost as if her body was her heart. One giant, pulsing organ capable of nothing but pure emotion. It was almost impossible for her to catch her breath.

Eric’s hips bucked as if involuntarily and sheer ecstasy rocketed through her.

Yes…

Bracing her palms against his wide shoulders, she tilted her own hips forward, then back, drenching him in her essence…

ERIC COULDN’T remember the last time he’d felt a woman’s flesh without the barrier of a condom.

A voice at the back of his head told him he should stop, sheath himself, protect her. But, Lord forgive him, he was incapable of doing anything that would impede the scintillating heat running over him in spectacular waves.

Was this really Sara stroking him with her body, her breasts swaying, her face a sketch of heaven?

God, but at this moment she was so beautiful she stole his breath away. She was a goddess who knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid of going about getting it, land mines and lists of demands be damned. This wasn’t a truce, this was a coming together that transcended differences and preconceptions and flew up so high that the road that divided them was no longer visible.

Eric closed his eyes and ground his back teeth together to keep himself from coming too fast. She felt good. So good.

He grasped her hips and edged his fingers inward toward the bare flesh between her legs until both his thumbs slid into her shallow channel, finding the tight bud at the apex.

Sara gasped and arched her back, her breathing erratic, her stomach trembling. Eric knew that all he’d have to do was blow on her sensitive skin and she’d shatter into a million crystalline pieces. But he knew a fear that when he did that, she’d also wake up from whatever sensual haze she’d surrendered to and go back to the woman who refused to let him into her house, much less her heart.

So he moved his thumbs and fastened his roving fingers to her hips. Her tiny sound of disapproval was followed by another gasp as he thrust upward. He wanted to make this as long as he could. To claim her on a level that would be almost impossible to ignore or push away. He wanted her to remember him, to know that only he was capable of giving her this much pleasure.

A groan rose in his throat. Of course, he was forgetting that the woman absolutely wrecked him. She could have been Mata Hari demanding to know every last secret he’d ever been trusted with and he would have told her. Standing above him in dominatrix boots holding a whip and he would have begged her to lash him. Anything to keep her near. Anything to stop her from pushing him away.

He recognized her low moan and realized she was on the crux of orgasm. He tightened his grip on her hips and instantly rolled her over off him. Her sound of protest was loud and not very ladylike.

Eric grinned as he repositioned her on the bed next to him. If he had any hope of holding off his own climax,he needed to impose as much control as possible. So he turned her to her stomach and hauled her hips back so that she was on all fours. Then he nestled himself between her smooth bottom cheeks and parted her farther, baring every sweet inch of her to his hungry gaze.