Page 108 of What I Should Have Done

Biting down on her throat, I hooked my free arm beneath her legs, quickly hoisting her from the ground. She kicked free of her pants as I pinned her to the side of the Humvee with my hips.

There was something different about this time. Something more carefree yet vulnerable. Something that had me caving to her every moan. Her whimpers as I kneaded her breast sent me into a tailspin. Every buck of her hips against me had me lapping from her hands.

Her fingers danced around my waistband, blindly fumbling for the buttons that barely held back my cock. There was no restraint this time. My heart raced, the world other than her becoming non-existent,

She was my world. She was my home. No matter how terrifying it was to give myself to someone else completely, she was worth it. Finally, I felt my pants loosen, her hands freeing me from the only thing separating us from fully giving in to one another.

Opening my eyes as I trailed my lips to hover over her mouth, she panted, her body trembling. Slowly, bedroom eyes peeked through her dark, thick lashes. A smile, so much more tender and endearing than usual, gentled her face. She draped an arm over my shoulders and brought her other hand to rest against my cheek.

Holding tightly to her hips, I leaned forward and captured her mouth. She whimpered against my kiss as I finally buried myself in her.

My hands memorized every incredible curve on her body. I would never forget the quiet sounds and tiny squeals she made with every peak of pleasure I made sure to give her. Every gasp. Every plea. Every whimper. Every moan.

She was mine. All of this was mine to have. Each roll of her hips, each clench of her fingers on my own skin. Every shudder of her incredible, imperfectly perfect soul became mine.

How beautiful she was as she writhed beneath my touch, her own euphoria reached.

And I gave her everything. The shadows that haunted my mind flooded with a shift in my fury. She didn’t mind my depraved heart. She didn’t mind the blackened stains upon my body. In fact, she sought them out. She asked to be a part of them. With every passing moment, sharing everything with her, I knew the closer I came to spilling over the edge, the better of a man I was.

Not because I had to deny the side of me that scared most people, but because she wanted to see that side. It made her feel safe. I wanted to be her safe place. I wanted to be her home as she was mine.

With fingers tightening around her hair, I came undone. Waves of static filled my entire body. The world turned warm and black, nothing there but the silhouette of the woman I owed my world to.

Home was not a place, but a person.

It was her.

She panted against my chest. Both of my hands slowly slid away from her hips, and I planted them against the Humvee on either side of her. My body weight kept her pinned to the vehicle, her heart hammering with every bead of sweat coating her skin slick.

That faint hint of vanilla slithered into my twisted soul, and I inhaled deeply, taking another moment to memorize the feel of her bare body against mine. Lips peppered soft kisses against my chest, and I pried my eyes open, glancing down at the woman who made me believe that there was a chance at my heart being more than just ice.

“I didn’t realize you could be such an aggressive romantic sap,” Scottie whispered, hooking her heels together around my waist.

“Aggressive being the keyword here,” I teased with a wink and threaded one set of fingers back through her hair.

“Not just barely.” She winked.

“That’s ’cause you have to be able to walk at a moment’s notice, Scotch,” I replied, narrowing my gaze.

She lightly whacked my side. “We should probably get dressed just in case soldiers start coming back.”

“Which they’re likely to do seeing as it’s practically dark out.”

“Are you gonna go shower?”

I nodded, gently sliding myself out and guiding her legs to the ground. “It’s been seven days as you’ve so politely pointed out.”

“Shit. Which means I may get a fucking UTI thanks to you,” she grumbled, scrambling for her clothes.

I chuckled, buttoning back up my pants. “You’re the one that asked me to fuck you.”

“No. I asked you to make love to me.”

“Same thing, Scotch.”

“Either way, you don’t have to point that out.”

Shaking out my shirt, I stuck my finger through the small hole made by Bernie’s button bomb.

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