Page 136 of Tempt Her

Mom wanted me to stay with her while the Army sent me home to recover, but I’m a grown man. I told her I wanted to heal on my own.

But my mom is stubborn as fuck and takes no shit from defiant men, especially her son, so we compromised. Since my house has too many fucking ladders, I told her I could stay at Ford’s. Everything I need is on one floor.

At least. That’s what she thinks.

I needed to be back here. In Ford’s home, sleeping, laughing, and fucking with the people I love. Once I’m cleared for duty, I go back. But for now, I’m gonna soak this up like a vacation.

“Alright,”—Mom marches across Ford’s living room, past his dining area, and into his open kitchen—“I’m leaving your meds here.” She shakes the bag of pill bottles on the countertop.

I ain’t touching that shit.I’ll take the pain over pills any day.

“And I’m leaving you”—she turns to Ford—“with strict orders to keep him off that ankle.”

Ford salutes. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I can walk on it, Mom.”Did I just roll my eyes like I’m twelve?

“You can do what I damn well order you to do.”Yep, Mom caught it.“The doctor said you should stay off it as much as possible. She said she’ll see you in four weeks, and that screw better have set.”

I got one screw in my ankle and one giant hard-on I need to set in someone’s mouth before I screw someone’s hole, so I really need my mom to go.

Ford looks so goddamn hot, wearing those ripped jeans on purpose. Once Mom leaves, Stacey and Mateo will come back over. And I’ll sit right here, on this sofa, while we fuck for the next four weeks.

Damn, I’m so horny.That’s my only affliction. My ankle will be fine, but my cock won’t be if I don’t fuck and suck someone soon.

“Yes, ma’am,” I answer my mom’s orders. “I’ll stay off my damn ankle.”

She nods, satisfied, but she ain’t done being in charge. “I like Mateo’s girlfriend.” She takes on Ford. “You ever gonna get one?”

Ford leans against the dining table, and I can’t take my eyes off the bulge in his jeans as he answers her, “I don’t do girlfriends. I’m too old for that shit.”

“You’ll be forty next month, Alexander.” My mom keeps going, “You need to settle down with someone.”

Before he sips his coffee, he grins, answering, “Yes, Colonel.”

Ford and my mom are close. He served under her for years and respects the hell out of her. We all do. And I hate doing this, but she doesn’t know how much I need to serve him too.

“Mom, leave him be. He’ll find someone, but for now, I need to find the back of my eyelids.” I’m not tired; I’m lying.

“Fine then.” She pushes off the countertop and strides my way. Pecking my cheek, “I’ll be back this weekend to check on you,” she pauses as worry bends her eyes. I know I scared her the most. It’s what keeps me alive now; I got too much love in my life not to fight to stay alive for it. “Love you,” she says, and that’s what I mean.

“Love you too, and thanks for taking care of me.”

She gives Ford a backslapping hug and leaves. While we hear her truck start in the driveway, Ford quickly texts Mateo before stalking my way.

“I ain’t tired,” I tell him while that look in his eyes swells my cock in my sweatpants. “I’m in fucking pain to kiss you.”

“Me, too,” he says, kneeling beside me on the sofa. He cups my jaw so hard. “And I got balls enough to admit you scared the fuck out of me. But then that’s the job.”

“It is.” Damn, his eyes are beautiful when he cares so much. “Now I know fear is an asset. It keeps my instincts up. I knew our last mission was fugazi, so I planned my escape.”

He grabs me so hard, kissing me as his tongue lashes with mine, making him moan as he rubs his hand up my shorn neck.

“Goddamn,” he mutters against my lips. “With your hair all high and tight and your body jacked as shit, fuck, I’m gonna fuck you in your uniform before you go.”

We kiss like we can’t get enough of each other, and I want it, too, every dirty role play. Hell, yes, he can be my CO, ordering me to suck his cock before he fucks me with it.

I grab him, stroking him so hard through his jeans that we get lost in our kiss; we don’t even hear the front door open; I just feel hands lifting my T-shirt. I feel the lips of the woman I love, too, steaming up my neck before she whispers in my ear, “I love you, Luke Branson. Welcome home.”

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