Page 27 of The Marine

Hungry for you, sweetheart.

“Why were you in the desert? Do you mean Arizona?” she asks.

I bark out a laugh.

“Not quite, sweetheart. I’m a Marine, not a salesman.” I wipe my brow because it’s very hot in here. This time, I think the air conditioning truly isn’t working.

Damn thing.

It’s either freezing or hot in our office.

Briar adjusts her pink scarf and starts walking toward me. “Oh. Well, I need to get back. Anyway, I’m fine, you don’t need t—”

What the hell?

She’s a foot away from me when I spot it. The reason she’s covering her neck. It’s only because she moved that I saw it.

“The fuck, Briar?” I step in front of her and tug away the scarf.

She cries out and grabs at it, but it’s too late. It’s like deja-fucking-vu. On her neck is a greenish bruise. I don’t need to be a doctor to see the finger marks.

“Aidan! Give that back!” Briar reaches up as I hold the scarf above my head.

She’s so damn tiny—her five foot five inches is nothing on my towering height beside her.

“Who did that to you?” I growl.

Panic is written all over her face as she grapples for the pink fabric. Her breasts push up against the cotton of my shirt, her hot breath panting.

“Aidan. Stop. Don’t. Please.”

Words I’d love to hear as I pummel my cock inside her, not when I see signs of abuse on her body.

Again.

I wrap my other arm around her to stop her movements. “I’m going to ask you one more fucking time, Briar. Who. Fucking. Did. This?”

She swallows, and her eyes meet mine as she settles back on her feet. Heat merges with her fear and I find my gaze dropping to her lips.

This is so fucked up.

I don’t know if I want to yell at her or rip her damn clothes off and finally fuck sense into her.

Have we moved closer?

Her pussy presses against my erection and we both blink.

“I—” She breathes.

Fuck.Fuckkkkk.

I need to let her go. I need to step back and...

My mouth slams down on hers and I take what I’ve wanted to for over ten damn years.

Her body presses harder into mine and she clutches a handful of my shirt as I drop her scarf and grip her face.

Our tongues smash together and years of need and passion flare to life. Every sense I have feels and tastes and devours as much of her as I can.

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