Page 34 of Forever My Soldier

Doubtful, I turned the phone over and read the called ID—it was my mother. I showed it to him and pretended like I was tying a noose around my neck and strangling myself. He laughed.Glad I could amuse him.

In recent days we’d spent more time together than I could’ve ever imagined and by now the event was practically all set. What else could she need from me, I wondered.

“Hello?” I answered, rolling my eyes.

“Jenna, nice of you to answer.”

“I always answer, Mother. What can I do for you?” Might as well get right down to it. She was calling for a reason and we both knew it, we were not a particularly chatty duo her and I, at least not with each other.

“Your sister is in town and she’ll be coming to the event, too.”

I sighed. “Noted.”This was just what I needed. Not.My sister wasn’t the most pleasant person, certainly not my favorite. We were not what I’d call close, not by any means.

Francesca was older than me, but I got all the expectations as she skated by most things in life because she married a rich, young doctor at eighteen and promptly popped out two kids and got a dog and house with a white-picket fence hundreds of miles away from our parents all before she was twenty-one. “Will she be visiting with her whole family?” If there was anyone I dreaded more than her, it was her husband.

“No. Now, I want to make sure I have the headcount right, so you will be bringing Deacon, correct?” she asked, as if it was even a question. We both knew it wasn’t.

“Of course,” I lied. I hadn’t even told him about it yet, but knew that was the answer she wanted, so that was the answer she’d get. Anything to hang this phone up.

“Excellent. I’ll see you both tomorrow at seven. Don’t forget to dress nice,” then promptly hung up.

As if we’d show up in our pajamas.Damn, she infuriated me. Frustrated, I quickly rubbed my forehead and blew outwardly. Eventually, I had to ask Deacon whether he would agree to come with me. I might as well ask now, since time wasn’t slowing down and the event was happening whether or not I cared for it to.

He shifted uncomfortably next to me. It was like he could sense what was coming.

I put my head in my hands and prayed that just this one time my mother didn’t have tricks up her sleeve and that I wouldn’t regret bringing Deacon.

He began rubbing small circles on my lower back before pulling back quickly. I frowned, wondering why, but then thought better of it. “Sometimes I hate her,” I admitted.

He gave me a knowing look. “I know,” he said. “So what does she want?”

“I might have let it slip that you were back,” I said grazing over the facts, “and now she wants me to bring you to a dinner event she’s hosting tomorrow night.”

I wouldn’t have blamed Deacon if he told me to go to hell. Part of me hoped he would. It would’ve been easier, less terrifying than the alternative—having them share space again. It never worked when we were in high school, and I doubted very much that just because they both aged a bit, anything would be different now.

“Would I be your date then?” he asked, arching a brow, brushing a finger down my arm. “Because we haven’t been out on a date since I’ve been back, not a real one anyway.”

I cleared my throat. There was a distinct possibility I was going to regret encouraging him like this, but I swallowed and nodded my head. “If you’d like this to be a date, then so would I.”

He stood up and shot a fist in the air. “Yes!”

I stood up and paced, not sure I liked his reaction. With a finger to my lips, I exhaled. “I don’t know for how much longer I can say no to you, Deke. But you have to know this isn’t like it was before. We’re both different people now.”

He walked over and closed the gap between us. He stared down into my eyes and looked at me intently before saying, “I know and I’m enjoying getting to know you again, but you have to understand that I know deep down you’re still the same girl I knew and loved. You just need to remember that.” My heart beat rapidly as he raised my chin with his finger and pressed his lips against mine.

He felt like home, his lips were just as soft and warm as they had always been.

His hand cupped my cheek and I leaned into his touch as I parted my lips slightly, allowing his tongue access. What was at first a gentle and tender kiss grew more quick and heady. Our bodies pressed together and I arched into him to feel him against me. I could feel his desire for me, the reaction I was having on him. I was having the same reaction to him.

“We’ve waited long enough,” I confessed, my words rippling through the air and filling the room.

That was all he needed to hear. Things intensified and I couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped my lips, driving him wild. His passion grew, his actions more possessive.

We didn’t part ways as he backed me up and hoisted me on top of my kitchen counter, his lips never once stopping their descent down my body. I moaned in pleasure as his hand slipped under my dress, pulling down my panties and tossing them on the floor. I happened to have it on good authority that they were soaked. I had never wanted a man to touch me so badly. But I ached for him in ways I couldn’t quite put into words.

I watched as he delicately touched me, then applied more pressure. “So wet. So ready for me.” He inserted two fingers and I gasped and threw my head back as he began pumping inside of me. Once, twice, then harder and faster. I closed my eyes and arched my back.

“Open your eyes,” he roughly demanded. “I want you to be watching when I make you come.”

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