When he climbed on the bed and stretched out beside her, she tried to reach for his erection, but he gently moved her hand away. “Not yet. This is about you.”
And boy, was it ever.
Cash spent the next hour so focused on her body, on her pleasure, that Jen nearly went out of her mind. His soft lips trailed kisses over every inch of her skin, exploring, teasing, bringing her to the brink only to retreat before she toppled over it. He made love to her with his mouth, his tongue, his hands, and he did it in a slow, thorough pace that threatened her sanity. He didn’t leave an inch of flesh unexplored, and each brush of his hungry lips and flick of his hot tongue made her shiver. She was overcome with sensation, gasping for air and mumbling gibberish by the time he allowed her what she needed.
He brought her to climax with his mouth, feasting on her until she thrashed on the mattress and begged for mercy. Her body hummed with pleasure, her heart pounded ceaselessly, and she was so sated she could barely move.
“Come up here,” she whispered, reaching for him.
Cash slid up her body and cradled her cheeks with his hands. His blue eyes glimmered with need, his erection heavy against her stomach. Without a word, he lowered his head and kissed her so deeply and methodically that her brain turned to mush. Despite the fact that she’d just climaxed, tension built in her core again, a dull ache that only Cash could ease.
His powerful chest heaved as he sucked in a breath. “I need you, Jen.”
He donned a condom, gently parted her legs and slid into her aching sex.
The orgasm caught her by complete surprise. She wrapped her arms around him and held on tight while a flash flood of pleasure swept her away to a plane where only sheer bliss and Cash McCoy existed. Although she was gasping and shuddering beneath him, he didn’t pick up the pace, just moved in a slow, languid rhythm that seemed incongruous considering the violent waves of release crashing through her.
When she opened her eyes, she found Cash watching her with an indefinable expression. “I love watching you come apart like that,” he said huskily.
He rolled his hips, hitting a delicious spot inside her, then increased his sinful tempo, but not by much. She was in awe of his control, the restraint he used as he slowly moved inside her. His features were so taut, the tendons in his neck strained, as if he was dying to let go but wanted to make it last. The only sounds in the room were their ragged breathing, the soft squeak of the bedsprings and the wet suction of his shaft sliding in and out of her heat.
Jen’s heartbeat vibrated against her breasts. “You’re not talking,” she murmured.
He stilled. “What?”
“No dirty talk,” she clarified. “The room was so quiet, and I realized it’s because you’re not talking. You’re not telling me all the dirty things you want to do to me or how much you love fucking me.” She searched his face. “Why?”
His Adam’s apple dipped as he swallowed. “Maybe because…because this doesn’t feel like fucking.”
Before she could even attempt to make sense of that, he took possession of her mouth and kissed her, driving his cock into her again and reigniting her passion.
They moved in perfect unison. Mouths locked together, bodies joined, chests colliding. She didn’t come again, but when Cash did, crying out her name as he lost control, the joy that skyrocketed through her and filled her heart rivaled any orgasm.
Cash made a sound of pure contentment as he gently withdrew and rolled them over, tucking her back into his damp chest.
“That was nice,” he said hoarsely.
“Yeah,” she whispered, unable to fight the unsettling feeling in her gut.
They lay there spooning, and long after Cash had fallen asleep, Jen remained awake, staring at the wall. Cash was right. This hadn’t felt like fucking, and it definitely didn’t feel like a fling anymore.
How the hell had that happened?
She stirred restlessly, knowing there was really only one question she ought to be asking herself: What on earth was she supposed to do now?
Twenty-four hours later, Jen was still riddled with confusion. She’d hoped the girls’ night would stop her from overanalyzing what had happened with Cash last night, but the loud chatter of the five women around her wasn’t achieving the distraction she’d needed.
She kept wondering if she’d misinterpreted the look she’d seen in Cash’s eyes. The myriad of emotions flickering across his face. But why even bother putting a label on it? She didn’t need to hear the L-word to know that his feelings for her had evolved.
So had hers. Somehow in the last couple of weeks, she’d stopped thinking about Cash in terms of how many orgasms he could give her or all the naughty things they could do together. Now she associated him not just with sex, but with laughter, support, joy…
He was so right for her in so many ways, except for the grim fact that if she got seriously involved with him, he’d be gone half the time. Or worse, he’d die while serving their country and shatter her in the process.
God, how did military wives do it?
All the women sitting in Savannah Harte’s living room at the moment were in love with navy men. Shelby had lucked out—her husband had resigned his commission and was now employed by a security firm in San Diego, which meant that Garrett worked nine-to-five and came home to his wife and daughter every evening. That was the boat Jen wanted to be in.
“Enough with the long faces, you two,” Savannah announced, flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder.
Jen snapped out of her thoughts, realizing she was one of the “two” Savannah had targeted.
“Well, I guess I can let you off the hook, since you have a stalker,” Savannah amended, grinning at Jen. “But what’s your excuse, Hol?”
Shifting her gaze, Jen saw Holly’s equally glum look. Her sister-in-law had barely said a word since she’d arrived at Savannah’s loft, which was located above Harte to Harte, the flower shop Savannah owned and ran. The change of scenery was nice, after being cooped up in Cash’s apartment for so long.
“Actually, I don’t have a stalker anymore,” Jen spoke up, which earned her a relieved look from Holly, who clearly hadn’t wanted to explain the reason for her unhappy mood.
Annabelle frowned. “Just because Cash and Seth beat him up doesn’t mean he won’t keep causing trouble. Nutcases like that don’t scare off easily.”
“But he left town,” Jen answered. “My dad has been keeping tabs on Brendan ever since he showed up at my parents’ place, and this morning Dad found out that Brendan’s work transfer happened earlier than scheduled. He was on a flight to Oakland last night. I’m hoping that means it’s the end of Psycho McGee.”
“Fingers crossed.” Annabelle held out her shot glass so Savannah could pour another round of tequila into it.
From her spot on the carpet, Jane released a happy sigh. “Man, it’s so nice to be out of the house for a while. Sadie was being super cranky today.”
“Like father, like daughter,” Savannah remarked dryly. “Seriously, though, Becker seems a tad possessive of that cute little baby of yours.”
“A tad? Understatement of the year. Sadie is the apple of her daddy’s eye. God help that sweet girl when she gets old enough to date.”
“John bought a shotgun the day after Penny was born,” Shelby confessed. “He’s ready to shoot the balls off any guy who looks at his daughter.”
Jen laughed. Unwittingly, she wondered how Cash would react if he had a daughter—would he be as protective as Becker and Garrett, or more laidback? She held back a snort. Right, like it was even a question. Navy SEAL and protective instincts went together like PB and J.
“What about you and Carson?” Shelby said, glancing at Holly. “John said you two have been talking about having kids.”
Holly stiffly rose from the overstuffed couch. “I need to use the washroom.”
She hurried off, leaving everyone but Jen staring after her in shock.
“Shit,” Shelby murm
ured. “What’d I say?”
Jen cleared her throat. “Babies are a touchy subject for her right now.”
The other women wore matching frowns. Even the perpetually laidback Savannah looked upset.
“What do you mean?” Annabelle demanded.
She hated herself for breaking the confidence, but she didn’t know what else to do anymore. Holly was staying with her sister again, and Carson had been ignoring Jen’s calls for days. Maybe recruiting some backup would help her stubborn brother and sister-in-law mend this rift between them.
With a heavy breath, she told them everything she knew, except for the part about seeing Carson with another woman. Every female in the room was scowling when Jen finished.
“Men,” Savannah huffed.
“Like a baby will fix anything,” Annabelle muttered with an amazed shake of her head.
“A kid will only bring a whole new pile of problems to the table,” Jane grumbled.
“They need to fix their relationship before bringing a child into it,” Shelby agreed.
“Ahem.”
Five heads swiveled to find Holly standing three feet away. The brunette looked both annoyed and amused at having caught them talking about her.
“We’re not gossiping,” Savannah said instantly, patting the sofa cushion in a gesture for Holly to sit down again.
“We’re venting on your behalf,” Annabelle piped up.
Holly flopped down on the couch. Her green eyes glittered with fortitude as she picked up the tequila shot she’d yet to take. “So we’re all in agreement that Carson is acting like an ass?”
Savannah lifted her own glass. “Hells yeah.”
Jen, Shelby, Annabelle and Jane raised their glasses.
The six of them clinked glasses and threw their heads back as they swallowed the alcohol. Jen felt the burn right down to her belly, and when Savannah tried to refill her shot glass, she shook her head.
“None for me. My stomach can’t handle more than a couple of shots.”
“Fill it up anyway,” Holly said. “I’ll take Jen’s shot.”
Uh-oh. She didn’t voice her worry, but the steel in Holly’s eyes told her that her sister-in-law was feeling self-destructive tonight.
For the next hour, they discussed what an idiot Carson was, while Holly continued to slug down tequila. Eventually Savannah had to cut the brunette off, and the conversation somehow turned to sex.
Jen stayed quiet, but Jane sucked her right into the discussion by turning to her and saying, “So, how’s Hot Stuff in bed?”
“Hot Stuff?”
“Cash,” the redhead clarified. With a shit-eating grin, she turned to the others. “That’s right, I said it. Jen here is totally doing the wild thing with Hot Stuff.”
That earned her some hoots and catcalls.
Annabelle beamed. “I already knew,” she announced smugly. “Cash called me yesterday to light candles.”
Savannah wrinkled her forehead. “Huh?”
“He took Jen out for a fancy dinner,” Annabelle explained. “And he put candles all over the bedroom and called me to light them before they got back. It was so frickin’ romantic.” She grinned at Jen. “Oh, and Cash made me promise not to tell Ryan what I was doing down there, so I stole a carton of eggs from your fridge to give me an excuse for going downstairs.”
Jen rolled her eyes. “So that’s where the eggs went.”
“Why the fancy dinner?” Savannah asked curiously. “What were you celebrating?”
This time Jane answered. “Our little Jenny has an interview with my old magazine. Am I the only one who didn’t know Jen is a kickass photographer?”
“I had no idea,” Annabelle said, looking insulted. “You holding out on us?”
She blushed. “I always figured it was just a hobby.” She glanced at Jane. “I can’t believe your photo editor stumbled on my blog like that.”
The redhead got a funny look on her face. “Yeah, that’s a stroke of luck, huh?”
The flippant response raised a red flag, and Jen studied the other woman with suspicion. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Jane’s expression epitomized innocence. “I don’t know what you mean.”
A frown puckered her brows. “Rick Martin found my work on the blog, right?”
“Of course.”
“Jane.”
The redhead released a heavy breath. “Fine. No.”
“No what?”
“Rick didn’t discover your work on the blog, hon. Your work found him.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m the one who gave Rick your photographs.”
Surprise jolted through her. “What? How’s that possible? How did you even get—” Jen’s breath hitched. “Cash.”
Jane scrupulously studied the label of the tequila bottle.
“Cash gave you my photographs, didn’t he?” Jen demanded.
The other woman lifted her head and offered a sheepish shrug. “He brought over a memory stick with your stuff on it the day of Sadie’s party.”
“He did?” She had no idea whether to be angry at Cash for invading her privacy or thrilled that he had.
“Don’t be mad at him,” Jane said quickly. “He had good intentions, hon. He said you weren’t planning on submitting work to any of the bigger magazines, but he thought you were too talented not to. He made me promise not to tell you.”
“Why?”
“He didn’t want you to think he was interfering in your career. And if TW was interested, he wanted you to think you’d done it on your own. But I think trying to keep it a secret was silly,” Jane said with a shrug. “He went to great lengths to make this opportunity happen for you, and I think you deserve to know that.”
Jen’s heart constricted. As annoying it was that Cash had copied her pictures without her consent, his intentions had been anything but malicious. Hell, he clearly knew her better than she’d thought. She’d been second-guessing herself with that portfolio for days—obviously he’d decided to speed up the process.
And now, thanks to Cash, she might land a job with a magazine she’d never have dreamed of showing her work to out of fear she’d be laughed out of the prestigious building.
But Cash had believed she could do it. He’d believed in her from day one.
“I might be in the minority here, but I’m pretty sure Hot Stuff is in love with you,” Savannah said with a grin. “Like big-time in love.”
The other women nodded fervently.
“Oh yeah,” Annabelle agreed. “A man doesn’t take on the task of personally getting a girl her dream job if he doesn’t love her.”
Jen felt like someone had knocked the wind out of her. She wasn’t surprised to hear everyone’s assessment of Cash’s feelings—she already suspected how he felt. No, what startled her was the multitude of emotions swirling in her chest. She’d been trying so hard to keep an emotional distance, but who was she kidding? Her emotions had entered the picture a long time ago.
She was in love with Cash.
Her heart felt both lighter and heavier as she absorbed the truth. She loved Cash. She loved his gruff voice and toe-curling kisses and rough hands. She loved his strength and unceasing support and the way he laughed. She loved that he didn’t mind the way she stuck Post-its all over his apartment, how he grumbled every time she forgot to hang up her towel in the bathroom, his willingness to cook every time she burned something in the kitchen.
From the moment they’d met, Cash had accepted her for who she was. Supported her. Encouraged her. Introduced her to passion she’d never known.
And she knew now, without a shred of doubt, that even one day with Cash McCoy would be worth however many months without him.
“Holy shit,” she mumbled.
From her cross-legged perch on the floor, Annabelle chuckled. “You love him too.”
Jen shook her head to clear the fog from it. “Yeah, I think I do.” Amazement trickled through her. “How did that happen?
”
“Love has a way of sneaking up on you.” Smiling, Savannah swiped a tortilla chip from the bowl on the coffee table and popped it in her mouth. “Same thing happened to me with Matt.”
“I wanted a casual fling. I never expected… I didn’t want to fall in love with him,” Jen said softly.
Annabelle frowned. “Why not? Cash is a great guy.”
“I know, but…” She hesitated, not wanting to talk about her military issues with a roomful of military wives and girlfriends. “I’m just blindsided, I guess. I don’t know what this means for us. I went in looking for a fling, and now…”
“I tried to have a fling once,” Holly spoke up in a faraway tone. “When Carson and I met, all I wanted was to have some fun, but that stubborn brother of yours, Jen, well, he convinced me to give a relationship a shot. And now it’s five years later, and look at us.”
Jen swallowed. “Hol—”
“Sometimes I wonder if I should have dug my heels in and left it as a fling.” Tears welled up in Holly’s alcohol-glazed eyes. “But I know that if I could do it again, I’d make the same damn decision.” She wiped her eyes with the vicious swipe of her hand. “Because no matter how infuriating he can be, I know he’s the love of my life.”
“All right. The kids are asleep and I’m ready to rob you losers of all your money,” John Garrett announced, striding into the spacious den with a baby monitor in his hand.
The den was packed with SEALs, beers and open wallets. Poker night was a twice-monthly tradition, hosted at a different house each time, and Cash looked forward to these gatherings. His teammates were damn good men. Good company too, and he felt honored to be included in what had been a tradition long before he’d come on board. Aidan Rhodes was also a recent addition to poker night, but he’d already been close to most of the guys thanks to his tight-knit friendship with O’Connor.
Sitting down, Garrett tossed the baby monitor to Becker, who placed it on the green felt poker table. “The girls went down okay?” the lieutenant commander asked.
Garrett nodded. “Fell asleep holding hands. It was pretty fucking adorable.”