Page 31 of Shielding Soledad

“Oh, I’ll believe it,” she said, then smiled at me. “Because I’m willing to bet it matches how much I love you.”

“Care to prove that?” I kissed the edge of her mouth.

“I think so,” she murmured, her lips against mine. “Sleeping baby, queen-sized bed right through that doorway, sounds like a perfect opportunity.”

“Works for me,” I said, picking her up and carrying her to the bedroom. I left the door partially open, so we could hear Luke if he cried. As I placed Soledad in the center of the bed, I thought that I would be forever thankful if the child slept for the next hour. Make that two hours, I amended when I joined her and began a kiss that left us both breathless with emotion and need. I was so lucky not to have lost her, and I poured that thought into my kiss along with all the love I’d been holding back.

“Clothing. Off,” she said when we came up for air. She rolled from under me and hopped off the bed, stripping away the cami and knit shorts she was wearing. “Now you.”

I’d looked at her body countless times, but there was something different about how I saw her now. Maybe it was having our love out in the open; maybe it was the commitment I’d made to her in my head and heart. “I was enjoying the view.”

“Were you?” She crawled toward me across the bed, which was about the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. My already-hard dick throbbed inside my jeans. And then she straddled me, making me groan with increasing desire.

She pulled on the edge of my shirt, lifting it over my stomach, and let her tongue coast along the exposed skin from my navel to my collarbone as she guided the shirt up. I helped her yank it over my head. When the shirt was gone, her hands were on me again, pinching my nipples, stroking over my skin, and driving me wild.

I reached between her legs, letting my fingers sink into her wet flesh. She gasped, and a shiver went through her as she rocked back and forth, helping me find just the right spot.

“I like that,” she breathed, letting me touch her as she arched her back and moaned. I wanted to pleasure her every way I could.

“Come for me,” I encouraged her.

“Not yet. Other things to do first,” she said, moving down my body and out of reach.

Her fingers deftly undid my jeans, her knuckles rubbing against my dick. I lifted my hips so she could pull my pants and boxers off. With my clothes gone, I intended to take charge of our lovemaking so I could show her how much she meant to me. But she took my dick in her mouth, and my will to move disappeared.

“Jesus,” I whispered, as her tongue slid over the tip, and she plunged down on me with her teeth gently trailing along the sides. Her mouth was hot and wet, and she knew exactly how to use it. “That’s…” I couldn’t find the words I wanted.

“That’s what?” she asked, a note of humor in her voice, before she came down on me again. She was enjoying making my brain mush and my body too satisfied to move. She changed the rhythm from a slide to a suck, bringing me right to the edge, but I didn’t want to come in her mouth. I wanted us joined in the most primal way.

I forced myself to move and reached for her, wanting to feel her body against mine. She came willingly, stretching out on me with my dick caught between us. Her lips found mine in a kiss unlike any I’d ever experienced. It went from gentle and nipping to all-consuming in seconds. Her hips rocked against me, cradling me and making me want. My hands traveled down her back to cup her butt, stroking her soft skin and feeling her curves.

“I think we’re ready,” she said, breaking the kiss as she shifted to drop her knees on either side of me, putting my dick at her entrance. I wanted to touch her, to taste her…and I would, later. For now, I pushed into her and watched a smile form on her face as I filled her.

“What you wanted?” I teased, thrusting more deeply in her.

“Yes. What I always want.” She was panting, matching her movements to mine and bringing us both pleasure.

I was on the verge of losing control, but I wanted us to come together. And she was close, so I reached between our bodies to touch her clit with one finger. A deep moan escaped her, and she wriggled, making the most of my touch. A second later, I felt her orgasm begin. Her insides pulsed and tightened around me. I followed her down, experiencing the most intense orgasm of my life.

When she collapsed on me, I wrapped my arms around her, not wanting her to move. I was still inside her, and I couldn’t imagine any better place to be.

15

ALEX

Istrode across the grass toward the Admiral’s grave. I’d been an angry preteen when Admiral Peter Anderson had taken me and my brothers in, giving us a healthy dose of tough love. It had been exactly what three wayward youths had needed. Until Soledad, the Admiral’s care was the best thing that had ever happened to me. Not that I would have admitted it at the start. But the admiral had taken us from three boys abandoned by our mother and abused by our father to Navy SEALs. We’d become responsible men who had served their country with integrity.

I owed the Admiral more than I could ever repay. As I reached the tombstone, I figured I could at least let the old guy know how right he’d been all those years ago. The Admiral had spoken a lot about trust to me, probably recognizing that I only trusted my brothers. The Admiral had earned Zach’s and Colin’s trust, but never quite mine, not entirely. I regretted that now, but it was never too late to make it right.

“I trusted someone enough to fall in love with her, sir,” I said aloud into the early-morning light. I’d come to the cemetery often over the years, paying my respects, but I’d never come with so much to say. “And you were right: it was scary as hell, but it was worth it, too.”

I’d risked the heartache that came with opening up my emotions and survived. To me, emotional trauma was far more intimidating than any SEAL mission, no matter how dangerous. But there’d be no more missions for me. I’d chosen a different life, one that promised joy and happiness.

“I’m in the process of planting an elaborate garden, sir. You’d like it. I’m planning ahead so I’ll have constant blooms from early spring to late fall, and I need shade for my son, a place for him to play. He’s beautiful. I wish he could know you.”

I would tell Luke plenty of stories about the old man. My favorite, the one I hadn’t believed in as a kid, was about plants. I’d share that one when Luke was old enough to understand. An image of the Admiral, a battered straw hat on his head and gardening gloves on his hands, came to me. I’d been sixteen and difficult, unwilling to listen to advice, but I remembered the Admiral’s words.

The Admiral had told me to treat love like I would plants. Take a chance on a new flower, nurture it, give it attention as it grows. There was no guarantee it would survive, the old man had admitted, but he’d insisted that I should take my joy from the bloom, the good part, and not wallow in disappointment if the plant withered later. I had listened, squinting at the Admiral and wanting to argue that people made choices, but plants didn’t.

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