Page 3 of Cooper

“We can go into the supply locker.”

“No condom,” he murmurs as our lips come together again.

“We can do other stuff,” I whisper against his mouth.

“Fuck.” He groans, getting to his feet and grabbing my hand.

We hurry into the makeshift storage locker, and he pushes me inside. The minute we’re alone, our mouths fuse and we’re all over each other. Our lips and tongues swirl together, hands groping each other’s body. He’s rock-hard all over, abs flat and arms like steel. He isn’t huge, but he’s probably eight inches taller than I am and my body fits against his perfectly. His hands skim my backside, eventually lifting me in the air. I wrap my legs around his waist, and he backs me against the wall.

Despite his rough movements, his touch is gentle, filled with passion. His mouth is magical, kissing me like a man who’s been without for far too long.

Kind of like me.

I haven’t been with anyone since the night before Logan died, which was seven months ago now, and that’s a long time. I desperately need to feel that kind of passion.

To feel sexy again.

To feelalive.

Fingers slide beneath my T-shirt and sports bra, his hand cupping my breast.

“I knew they’d be perfect,” he whispers against my mouth.

“Not too small?”

“Anything more than a mouthful is a waste.” He chuckles, dipping his head to suck a nipple into his mouth. He bites down and then circles it with his tongue, instinctively sensing exactly how much I need.

How does he know me so well already?

“Off,” he says on a groan, tugging both my top and bra over my head.

For a man who’s been without sex for a while, he’s surprisingly patient in his approach. He doesn’t rush, doesn’t get sloppy like men in my past had—he’s all finesse. His mouth is enchanting, drawing shudders from me as he moves from one breast to the other. When his tongue goes back to circling my nipple, I almost lose it right there.

“Cooper…” I moan. “I need you.”

“I know, baby. Me too. But if this is all we have, then I need to do it right.”

Fuucckkk.

I hadn’t used that word much before coming to Iraq, but six months with a group of rowdy marines made it part of my dialogue. Apparently, my internal dialogue as well.

His mouth is level with my chest, and he continues to tease and stroke my breasts until I can barely breathe. I want him inside me so bad I can’t stand it, and I dig my fingers into his scalp.

“Cooper. Fuck me. Please.”

“We can’t,” he groans, looking at me.

“I’m protected,” I whisper. “I swear.”

Our eyes lock and freeze. For a moment there’s nothing but us, but the connection between us. I trust him. I don’t know why, but I do. It’s like looking into the eyes of destiny.

“Natalia…”

I reach up to kiss him, taking his lips as gently but passionately as he took my breasts.

“Yes.” I whisper the next two words. “Do it.”

He uses one hand to yank down his shorts, his erection springing free. And it’s glorious. Thick and hard and standing at attention.

---