Page 72 of Bad Girls Don't Marry Marines (Rock Canyon, Idaho 3)

His golden eyes twinkled in the dim light as he reached across the table and grabbed her hand, nibbling on her fingers. “You’ll see.”

DESPITE THE ONE hiccup, they’d had a nice time. They pulled in front of her house and Val didn’t see Ellie’s car, although it was only nine-thirty. When she reached for the bag of desserts, Justin slapped her hands away.

“I’ll carry those.”

“You’re so weird.” She laughed, climbing out of the truck with her heart slamming against her breastbone. She didn’t know why having him in for dessert was making her so nervous—it wasn’t like they hadn’t done it before—but this was different. This wasn’t happening a hundred miles away in a hotel room; this was her home, her sanctuary. And once she invited him in, it made everything more personal.

Sure, she’d shared her fertility issues with him, but Val half-wondered if she’d been hoping to scare him off. Something about being with Justin was different from being with the other men she’d slept with. He made her feel safe and cared for, and she found herself wanting more of that, but the idea also terrified her.

She slipped her hands into her coat pocket and led him up the walkway, smiling at Justin as she opened the door.

He reached above her head and held it open, so she kept walking, stepping over Gus as he got in her way. Kicking off her heels, she tucked her hair behind her ear, wondering why she was suddenly so nervous.

“Where are your forks?” Justin asked, setting the bags on her kitchen counter and shrugging out of his coat.

“Third drawer on the left.” Walking into the living room, she decided they needed a distraction. Picking up the remote, she called, “Wanna watch a movie?”

“Sure,” he said, coming around the corner and setting two containers on the coffee table, with just one fork between them. It was cozy and intimate, but she was still trying to chase away issues.

It’s still just sex, only it’s in a less anonymous environment. It doesn’t have to mean more.

She turned on the TV, flipping from channel to channel, ignoring the heat of his thigh pressed against hers. “What do you feel like watching?”

“Whatever looks good,” he said, flipping open the first container to reveal a slice of chocolate cake, caramel drizzled over the top.

Justin got up from the couch and went back into the kitchen, yelling, “Your glasses are . . .?”

“Cupboard next to the fridge.” She sneakily scooped a tiny bite into her mouth. Stopping on The Matchmaker with Janeane Garofalo, she settled back into the couch, licking away all traces of the delicious cake.

Justin sat back down and eyed the container. “Did you take a bite?”

“Nope.”

She suddenly found herself pulled against a very hard chest as Justin covered her mouth with his, flicking his tongue across her lips before slipping inside. He tasted every inch of her mouth until she was wet and aching between her legs, dying to just crawl onto his lap and—

“Little liar,” he whispered as his lips drifted down from hers and across her throat and shoulders. When he pulled her into a straddling position across his lap, the silky material of her dress was a thin barrier between the soft skin of her ass and the rough denim of his jeans.

Wrapping his arms around her, he picked up the cake and took a large forkful, sticking it into his mouth. “Mmm, that’s good.”

Knowing he was purposefully teasing her, Val’s desire overrode her worries, and she bent over and kissed the corner of his mouth where some chocolate lingered, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth and running her tongue across it. She released him slowly, licking her own lips.

Taking the cake from him, she stuck the fork in it once more, stealing another small bite before closing the container.

“Hey, I wasn’t done with that.”

She ignored him, climbing off his lap to put the desserts in the fridge. Val worried about Gus getting into the food while they were distracted . . . and she planned to keep Justin very distracted.

When she came back into the room, she dimmed the lights and went to stand between his legs. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she slowly raised a knee onto each side of his lap and then reached up to unhook the halter top of the dress.

Pulling the light material down to reveal her strapless zebra-print bra, she leaned over him and brushed her lips against his softly, seducing him while he just sat there, his hands at his sides, not even touching her. It was so different from the way he had simply taken her before that she opened her eyes.

“Is there something wrong?” she whispered, running her mouth and teeth across his jawline until her lips nestled against his ear. “Don’t you want me?”

“I was going to give you time. You seemed tense when we got here.”

His attempt to put her at ease melted the rest of her anxieties. “I’m good.”

His low growl was her only answer as his hands started gathering her skirt, pulling the gauzy fabric up until he could grip her bare ass, and a shiver crawled up her spine. She’d worn a simple black thong, a scrap of cotton easily discarded, and Justin did just that with a hard yank, ripping the fabric away from her body. Val jerked, the pulsating desire a beating drum between her legs, keeping pace with her pounding heart.

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