Fact that he didn’t only want in Becca’s pants? That was a real gut check about where his head—and his heart—really were, wasn’t it?
“Are you worried about the guys at all? Being out there?” she asked, stirring the ice cream to make it smooth.
“No. These guys are the best. They know what they’re doing. They know how to take care of themselves. And you shouldn’t worry, either.” It was mostly true. The only thing that might’ve made him worry less was being out there himself so he could have their backs. Once, he’d been their second in command, but none of that mattered anymore, and this wasn’t the Army. Besides, they all had jobs to do tonight, and he was content to do his. Events of the past few days proved Becca needed protection, and Rixey suspected she might be feeling a bit more fragile than she was letting on. No way the shock of Scott’s destroyed guitar was far from her mind. Not with how devastated she’d been at the sight of it.
Her bowl sagged into her lap. “I’m sorry about what happened with Jeremy earlier.” Chin down, she ate another spoonful.
“Don’t be. Wasn’t your fault.” How could anyone look sad with a mouthful of ice cream? Going against instinct—and habit—Nick decided to distract her with the truth. “Twelve years in the Special Forces taught me to keep things tight to the cuff. Living that lifestyle, you become accustomed out of practice and necessity to be fully honest with only the close circle of your brothers on the team. I hadn’t realized until tonight that even though I’ve been in the real world for almost a year, I’ve kept Jeremy on the outside all this time.”
He stuffed a heap of dessert between his lips to force himself to stop running his trap. Soon he’d be telling her that he’d also realized he’d lost too many damn people from his life to be pushing people away now. That included Jeremy.
And it included her.
One thing still tripped him up, though. He hated that he couldn’t tell her the truth about her father. He didn’t want to lie to her, but he also didn’t want to hurt her. Learning that someone you loved wasn’t the person you thought could be devastating—especially when that person was someone fundamentally important to your life. Nick knew that anguish firsthand. Realizing that the commander he’d looked up to for so many years was a liar and a manipulator and, really, damn close to a traitor to his country had ripped a part of Rixey’s heart out and shaken his faith in the sacred ideal of the brotherhood of arms. Bad as that was, he could only imagine how much worse it would be to learn those things about your father, and then not be able to confront him because he was already dead.
But Charlie knew something, so one way or another the truth was coming out. And maybe whatever her brother knew could get them around the restrictions of the damn NDA. Every moment until she learned what her father’d done, he was complicit in a lie of omission. And that fact sloshed like battery acid in his gut. Because no matter how unworthy he felt, he could no longer deny that he wanted her. The taste of her this morning hadn’t nearly been enough. He’d known that shit at the time, too. Now he wanted to make sure he didn’t do another thing to make her question where she stood with him.
Not when she stood at the center of his newly realigned universe.
A universe where he could see himself as being important again, as having a mission, as having a purpose. And, the thing was, the realignment had done more than make him fall for a girl; it had made him reconnect with and value parts of his life he’d been neglecting—his love of art, his brother, his team.
Last year, his losses had been catastrophic. That was incontrovertible truth. But he’d actually made it worse by pushing what he still had away.
And Becca had been the one to hold the mirror in front of his face and make him see the light.
His sunshine.
“Want some water?” he asked, hoping she didn’t hear the gruffness in his voice as he got up.
“Sure.”
Heaving a deep breath, he crossed to the sink and busied his hands with the simple task. He’d take anything right about now to distract his brain from all the churn and burn.
“Here you go,” he said, returning to her. He downed half his glass in one long swallow and wished it was something stronger.
When they finished their ice cream, she stretched and put the bowls on the dark, distressed coffee table. Her sigh was equal parts fatigue and satisfaction. He’d helped ensure one, now he could assist with the other. “Come here,” he said, opening his arms.
With a smile, Becca turned, knees facing the back of the couch, and laid her upper body across his lap so her head hit his shoulder. The feeling of her laying on him was warm and tempting, especially with the little purr of contentment that spilled from her throat. But it was also just really frickin’ peaceful. And, man, peace wasn’t something he’d had a whole lot of lately. Hell, not for his whole adult life.
Nick shifted down just a little, holding her close, and let his head fall back against the leather. This couldn’t be any better.
“I need something else,” she said, shifting against him. Head on his stomach, she looked up. And her eyes were on fire.
“What’s that?” His cock was pretty sure it knew what she needed, if his sudden erection was any guide.
“You’ll say no.”
Rixey ran his fingers through her hair, the word yes already on the tip of his tongue. “Try me.”
She pushed her body down until her face lay in his lap, and then she mouthed him through his jeans, eyes slanted up at him.
He sucked in a breath, and his hips rocked into the touch. “Becca.”
The denim allowed through only a hint of the heat from her mouth, but just the thought of it scorched him with lust and need. Her teeth grazed over the length of him, teasing until he knotted a hand in the soft length of her blond hair.
“I want you in my mouth,” she said.
Aw, fucking hell.
His brain ran a calculus of the likelihood of getting caught here versus the ability to pull his cock away from her lips. Marz wasn’t moving from his computers anytime soon, though. And Jeremy had made the cardinal mistake of asking how his equipment worked, so he’d most likely be caught in a Marz vortex for a good long while. And then she unzipped his jeans and pulled his hard-on out in her soft hand, and all those thoughts blew away like smoke in the wind. She bathed the length of him with a long, wet lick. And, damn if she didn’t keep those blue eyes on him like she knew how much pleasure he’d get from watching her tongue him.
And he did. The sight of her mouth on his cock would never get old.
She pushed up on her elbows, swirled her tongue around his tip, and then engulfed him in a slow descent that ended with his head buried in the back of her throat. His hands flew to her hair, half of him wanting to hold her there and thrust deeper, half of him wanting to yank her away before this was over in about thirty seconds.
The other reason getting caught probably wasn’t an issue—this morning aside, his abstinence from everything but his own hand for the past year meant he wasn’t likely to have very frickin’ much staying power. She withdrew in a torturous hard suck of his flesh that very nearly proved the point.
Goddamnit.
“Becca, you are going to make me come in about ten seconds,” he said, awe mixed with a bit of embarrassment in his voice. Jesus, she was really fucking good at this.
She pulled off long enough to grin up at him. “Good. I want you to come.”
Swirling wetness over his head, she lashed him with her tongue before sinking down once more. This time, the pace wasn’t slow, but the fast swallow and suck was every bit as torturous. Maybe more. Because his body was barreling toward a cliff’s edge he had no hope of avoiding. Her silky hair fanned over his lap and he tangled his fingers in it, guiding her head as she devoured him. Heat and pressure and mind-blowing sensation congregated in his balls, hung there until he was holding his breath.
“Christ, Becca, I’m coming. I’m . . . fucking . . . coming.” Dizziness tossed his consc
ious mind to the corner and he groaned and thrust into her mouth as she sucked down everything that he gave her. The orgasm drained the tension out of his muscles until he was boneless against the leather. Except, miraculously, he was still so goddamned hard she could take his head to the back of her throat when she indulged in a few more lingering sucks.
His. Fucking. Turn.
Without a single word of warning, he pulled her off him, tugged the denim over his cock, and flipped her into his arms. Her swollen lips and flushed face and surprised laugh ricocheted right down his spine and ensured his erection didn’t deflate by even an inch. He hauled them off the couch, refusing to acknowledge his protesting back, then stalked down the hall, kicking the office door shut with his boot.
In his room, he came to the bottom corner of his big bed and tossed her to the mattress in the darkness. She screamed and laughed as she bounced against the messy covers, still rumpled from how they’d left them this morning.
Damnit all to hell, but that felt like a million years ago. He removed the gun from the back of his jeans and settled it on the nightstand as he turned on the lamp. Her eyes found him immediately, and she smiled.
God, she was so damn pretty. And the way she looked at him sent him soaring.
Sometimes you plodded through life with nothing changing from one month to the next no matter how much you yearned for a revolution to erupt beneath your feet. And sometimes your whole world imploded and rebuilt itself in a matter of seconds. In the past, those instantaneous changes had almost always ignited with pain and loss.
Not this time.
This time, a woman had performed the simple act of walking through his front door. She’d sent his life spinning off on a whole new trajectory of rebuilding. Reclaiming. Maybe, even love.
Returning to the foot of the bed, Nick found that Becca’s gaze was equal parts humor and heat. Hands behind her calves, he hauled her toward the edge of the bed, undid the fly of her jeans, and tugged them over her hips. She lifted her legs, helping him remove them, and a twinge of pain shot through his back again as he yanked them off.
Rixey didn’t mind the discomfort. It was a drop in the bucket compared to the soul-deep pleasure he felt, and, anyway, he was used to it. But it reminded him that she’d been injured. “Shit, Becca. Did I hurt your side when I threw you?” He leaned his upper body between her thighs until he hovered over her, reminding him of the fast frenzy of this morning.
She stroked his cheek with soft fingertips. “No. It’s not too bad. But thank you for thinking to ask.”
Relief flowed through him, drawing him to taste her. He leaned into her slowly and kissed her. And, damn, he could still taste himself in her mouth. It was a fucking rush, knowing she’d pleasured him so freely, so selflessly. His hand skimmed up her belly, tugging at the cotton and caressing her breasts. She arched into his touch, allowing him to pull her shirt to her throat. “Lift,” he whispered, and then he removed it altogether. A flick of his hand behind her back bared her completely to his gaze.
Jesus, she was beautiful, soft perfection. Natural and real. With lots of curves and peaks and valleys and hidden places for him to explore. Her hands fisted in his shirt and dragged it up his stomach. With one hand, he reached over his shoulder and hauled it over his head.
And then he was on her. Kissing her mouth in urgent, aggressive twists of lips and tongue. Sucking and nipping down her neck and collarbones to her breasts. Teasing and tormenting her nipples. Becca writhed under him, her fingers plowing into his hair and trying to grip the short length. He’d actually worn it longer in Afghanistan to blend in with the locals, so he wasn’t opposed to growing it out again just so she could really pull it. The biting tugs against his scalp fucking turned him on because each one reflected her pleasure, her desire, her slow slide into abandon.
Easing onto his knees, he kissed her stomach, her hip bones, the inside of one soft thigh. “Put some pillows under your head, sunshine, because I want to watch your face.” He waited for her to comply, a small, sexy smile curving her lips, and then he slid his hands under her thighs, guided her knees onto his shoulders, and stroked his tongue through her wetness. Her sweet taste and her ecstatic cry rocketed down his body, turning his cock to steel and making him yearn to get in her. But not before he drank in her pleasure.
Alternating flicks and circles with flat sweeps of his tongue, he explored and tormented her. He penetrated her with one finger, then two, remembering what she’d seemed to like this morning and drawing out her arousal until her hips bucked and thrashed and her hands fisted in the sheets. He strapped her down with his forearm and sucked her clit into his mouth.
He’d thought her beautiful before, but her face was a total stunner when she wore that mask of pleasure—eyes hooded, almost like she was drowsy, mouth open, and lips wet.
“Nick,” she rasped. “Don’t stop.”
He smiled against her, stopping the furthest thing from his mind, and redoubled his efforts, licking, sucking, fucking her with his fingers. A long, low whine ripped from her throat as her muscles tightened around him, and then she was holding her breath, shaking, coming on his hand and mouth. The moment her body stilled, he withdrew, shoved down his jeans, and then cursed a blue storm at the laces on his boots.
She laughed, and he pretended to scowl at her as he finally got his feet free.
“Think that’s funny, do ya?”
Grinning, she nodded. “I like you eager.”
He threw the jeans and boxers somewhere behind him. “Eager’s my middle fucking name when I’m around you.” Nick retrieved a condom from the box he’d opened only this morning. Standing between her spread thighs, he rolled it on. “You are going to feel so good,” he said, looking her over and loving every damn thing he saw. The tousled blond hair, the flush on her face, and the beautiful feminine curves all called to him, but it was the adoration in her eyes that most got to him. It sent him flying to the heavens with a feeling of completion, and it threatened to splinter him to pieces because he’d never fully deserve it.
A moment of doubt flickered through him, stilling his hand on his cock and rooting his feet to the floor. Goddamnit.
Becca shoved the pillows further up the bed and scooted backward, her hands reaching out to him. “Come be with me,” she said.
Like she knew. She knew he’d gotten stuck there at the edge of the bed.
Her words drew him forward until his knees were between her thighs and his hands were braced on either side of her head. “Are you sure about this?”
She combed her fingers through the sides of his hair. “Completely.”
Thank God. “Good, because I want you so damn much.” He kissed her, took his cock in hand, and guided himself to her entrance. “Aw, damn,” he groaned as he pushed inside. Hot. Tight. Wet. He pulled out and sank back in, gaze on her face, watching her struggle to keep her eyes open as he rocked in and out of her core.
Her short nails bit at his neck and shoulders, and then he settled his weight fully upon her. Skin on skin. The connection wasn’t just physical. Not for him. And the emotion in her eyes told him not for her, either.
Nick buried his face in her neck and grasped the top of her head with one hand. God, he needed to get closer, deeper, as far inside as she could take him. His hips withdrew and plunged forward, rolling to drag pressure against her clit. She grasped his back and moaned in time with his thrusts and rocked her hips to meet his. Even as his lower back started to ache, she was still the best fucking thing he’d ever felt. He’d pushed through it this morning, so he could do it again. He flipped a mental bird at his injuries, because no way was he missing out on a moment of this experience, nor shorting Becca even an ounce of pleasure.
“You okay?” he rasped against her ear before kissing the delicate shell of skin.
Her chuckle was deep and throaty, and drew his gaze to her face. She leaned up and kissed him. “I’ve never been more okay in my life.”
He grinned, identifying with the sent
iment and feeling it slip into the dark places in his soul and light them up.
A sharp twist of muscle in his back made him suck in a breath and clench his jaw. He gritted through. Leftover soreness from his fight. He was going to kick Beckett’s ass for making him think of the guy during sex.
“Hey.” Her hand smoothed over his forehead and cheek.
Opening his eyes, he found concern mixing with arousal in her expression. Damnit. He kissed her, hating the thought of anything ruining their moment.
“What’s the matter?” she whispered against his lips.
“Not a damn thing.”
She pushed on his chest, and he frowned. But she was smiling, a bit of mischievousness in her eyes. “Turn over,” she said. “And sit against the headboard.”
“Ma’am, yes, ma’am.”
Rixey pushed the pillows upright and settled against them, relief flowing into his back at the change in position. He couldn’t think on that long, though, because she straddled him and sank down onto his cock in one torturously good slide.
One hand on the headboard and one on his shoulder, she rode him, her core sucking him in, her clit rubbing against his stomach, her nipples dragging against his chest. He skimmed his hands up and down her back, grabbing her hips and thrusting deeper when he couldn’t stand the nearly nonexistent distance between them.
“God, Nick, I’m going to come again.”
The words shoved him a giant step toward his own release. “Good. I want to feel it.” He latched on a nipple, sucking and tugging and teasing with his teeth. She moaned and tossed her head back, her body arching against him and the tips of her hair tickling his hands on her hips.
Her muscles squeezed, a slow, sure clamping down on his cock that had him growling low in his throat. “Yes, sunshine. Come all over me.”
She sank all the way down on him, taking him in to the balls, and ground her hips hard and fast against him. Fingers digging into her sweet ass, he rocked her hips forward and backward on his dick, grinding her clit against his stomach.