Chapter Eleven

Eve

I don’t care how wet, cold, or uncomfortable I feel. Being in John’s arms is the best place to be. My hand slides against the side of his face, the warmth from his skin seeping through my gloves. “Which one’s closer?”

He lifts his head and glances from his house to my own. “Mine.”

“Then your house it is,” I state boldly.

Suddenly, I’m moving. Somehow, John manages to get up while still holding me and carries me toward his front door. “I can walk,” I insist, watching clumps of snow fall from our bodies. Well, mostly from him, since he was the one lying on the ground.

“This is more fun,” he insists, walking up his steps and juggling to get his keys from his coat pocket. “Besides, then I know you can’t run home.” He winks, letting me know he’s joking, as he slips the key into the lock and opens the door.

The warm heat hits me, but I have no time to revel in it. John closes the door with a thud before spinning me around and pressing my back against it. His hips rock into me, his erection rubbing right where I crave it. My body is on fire, alive with what feels like nearly a decade worth of pent-up desire and sexual frustration.

My lower half moves, grinding against his hard length, as a whispered plea falls from my lips. “Please, John.”

His hands hold my ass as he spins. Within a few steps, he drops onto the couch, my body straddling his. “Is that better?”

My hands dive into his hair, my lips tracing his scruffy jaw. “No. We’re still wearing too much clothing.”

His chuckle is like a caress to my clit. It’s low and sultry and makes me want dirty things. “I do like the way you think.”

I pull off my hat and rip off my gloves, tossing them onto the floor. When my fingers are finally free of confinement, I grab at the zipper on the front of his coat and pull. As soon as it’s released, my hands plaster to his chest. My fingers flex, my nails biting into his flesh through his Henley. Heat radiates through the material, and all I can think about is feeling it against my bare skin.

John helps unzip my own coat, carefully slipping it from my arms before setting it on the couch beside him. He sits up, and even though I’m frantically tugging and pulling at his sleeves, it takes a few extra seconds to remove his. Finally, we’re both free of coats and one step closer to getting naked.

His hands move against my hips, slowly sliding across my thighs. “Better?”

“Getting there,” I tell him before leaning forward and pressing my mouth to his.

He commands the kiss, coaxing my mouth open and making his tongue ravish me. A whimper falls from my lips as familiarity rushes in. Kissing John has always been amazing, and he’s proving it once more. The man can kiss. Even as a fumbling teenager, his kisses were A-game and on point.

Shifting his lips, he slowly trails them down my neck, setting my skin on fire. I turn my head, giving him all the access he wants and needs, and just feel. I crack open my eyes and suck in a sharp breath. “John?”

“Hmm?” he murmurs, continuing to lavish me with open-mouthed kisses.

“John,” I mutter, pulling back. “We’re being watched.”

He turns and spots his cat sitting in the recliner, an annoyed look on the feline’s face. “Biggie, go away.”

The cat doesn’t listen, just continues to stare. He adjusts himself where he sits and lowers his head, his eyes never leaving us.

John returns his mouth to mine, deepening the kiss. Unfortunately, as good as it feels, I can’t concentrate on what we’re doing. I glance to the side, spying the voyeuristic cat still sitting there, watching. “John, he’s still watching us.”

“Ignore him. He’s just jealous,” he replies, threading his hands into my hair and rocking his hips.

“I can’t ignore him,” I bite out as the pleasure from his erection rubbing against my clit sweeps through. “Can you put him somewhere?”

John sighs and stops. “Yes.”

He lifts me off his lap and walks over, scooping up the cat. “You’re cockblocking, Biggie, and we made an agreement that’s not allowed. You’re gonna have to hang in the guest room for a bit.” He takes the cat to what I assume is the guest bedroom and closes the door.

“Will he be okay in there?” I ask, worried for the animal.

“Yeah, he’ll be fine,” he insists, coming back over to where I sit on the couch. When he takes a seat once more and I climb onto his lap, he adds, “He won’t be in there too long.”

I snort. “I hope it’s not too quick,” I state with a raised eyebrow.

A wicked grin spreads across his gorgeous face. “Now come on, Eve. You know I’m a man who prides myself on being very…thorough.”

We come together in a frantic mess of hands and mouths, fumbling to remove clothing, while continuing to kiss as much as possible. He helps me remove my black sweater, tossing it behind me, as I pull his green Henley upward. My fingers dance against his hard, muscular chest, reveling in the feel of his warm skin. “This is new,” I say, sliding my finger along the black ink on his right pec.

“Got it right after I got back from my first tour overseas. Most of my unit all went and got them together. Each one is a little different, but the banner with our unit’s name and number and the skull are in each one.”

My eyes take in the intricate detail of the tattoo. The skull is front and center, with the banner running through its eye sockets. There’s a syringe dripping, most likely symbolizing his job as a medic, but it’s the detail of those drips that catch my attention. They look like…

“Are those snowflakes?”

I feel the weight of his eyes on me as he answers. “Yeah. They symbolize home.”

My throat feels thick as I lightly caress the small snowflakes. There’s only a few of them, but unless you’re looking closely, you can’t really tell they’re not splattered drops of liquid coming from the syringe. But then something else catches my eye. Leaning forward, I’m drawn to one particular snowflake. It’s one of the smallest ones, and there’s something on top of it.

When I realize what it is, I gasp. My wide eyes meet his, and when I open my mouth, nothing comes out. “What does that mean?” I ask, my heart pounding so hard in my chest, I’m certain the neighbors can hear.

“It also represents home. To the girl I once loved and left all those years ago. She was my princess, and even though we broke up after high school, I carried her with me through my years away, often hearing her voice when I was lonely or troubled, especially those first few years. She was with me always, in my heart and etched on my skin.”

I blink, pushing away the tears threatening to spill. Glancing back down, I run the tip of my finger over the tiny crown positioned on top of one of the snowflakes. “I bet the guys in your unit loved that.”

“No one said a word. We all had our reasonings for adding what we added to our tattoos. We are brothers, a family, and we all carried different pieces of home or our lives outside of our unit on our skin.”

I lean against him, my hand trapped between his chest and my own and press my lips to his. This kiss is tender, sweet, and full of appreciation. “I don’t know if I’ve said it before, but thank you for your service.”

He brushes his lips across mine. “You have.”

“Well, I mean it,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around his neck.

Just as he starts to deepen the kiss, we hear a loud sound. It’s part meow, part tortured animal, and it’s coming from the other side of the guest bedroom door. “Oh my goodness, is he okay?”

John sighs. “Yes, he’s fine, but it appears Biggie wants to throw a temper tantrum.” He meets my gaze before asking, “What do you say we take this to the bedroom?”

“I say that sounds like a good idea.”

Just as we go to stand, there’s a crash. We both take off running, John whipping open the door and flying inside. Biggie is sitting on top of a dresser, glaring at us. On the floor is a wooden shelf and a few small trinkets. They’re all broken, of course, and the troublemaker doesn’t seem fazed. Instead, he reaches out with his paw and pushes against a book, sending it tumbling to the floor with the rest of the stuff.

A giggle erupts from my mouth. I try to cover it with a cough and my hand, but there’s no use. Watching this fat cat knock everything he can onto the floor is comical.

John sighs and walks over, picking Biggie up. “Yeah, yeah. Stop throwing a fit. You can move about again,” he tells his cat before placing him down on the floor.

Biggie runs out of the room; most likely afraid he’s going to be trapped in there once more if he doesn’t escape right now. The moment he crosses the threshold, he stops, glancing over his shoulder, and giving us both the stink eye.

John exhales slowly. “He’s probably going to shit in my shoes later tonight.”

I bark out a laugh. “Miss Snowflake wouldn’t dare. She’s too prissy to go anywhere but in her litter box.”

He faces me, his hard chest on full display, and my mouth waters. “Why are we talking about this?” Stepping toward me, he adds, “I have the most beautiful woman in the world right in front of me, and she’s not wearing a shirt.” He runs his fingers lightly over the swell of my breasts. “You look festive.”

I glance down, taking in my red-and-silver Christmas bra. “My panties match.”

His blue eyes dilate as he wraps a single arm around my lower back. Pulling me flush against his chest, he whispers, “Show me.”

I move from his embrace, take his hand in mine, and walk across the hall to the master bedroom. Inside, I find a bedroom exactly how I’d expect. Dark, masculine colors, minimal décor or frills, and absolutely no clutter. His king-sized bed is made, most likely a trait he picked up from his military days, and stands as the focal point in the room.

Walking to the center of the space, I turn and face him. Our eyes remain locked as I slip my boots off my feet, gently setting them aside. With sure, steady hands, I release the button on my jeans and gently lower the zipper. His eyes drop, watching my every move. With a little extra shake, I shimmy out of my jeans, letting them slide down my legs and pool on the floor. After I step out of them and move them to the side, I place my hands on my hips and wait.

John runs his hand down his face, his eyes never deviating from my body. “My God, you’re even more beautiful than in my dreams.”

“Are you just going to stand there and stare at me?” I ask, the corner of my mouth curling up.

“Nope,” he informs me, releasing the fly of his own jeans before kicking off his boots. They land with a loud thud on the carpeted floor, and then he goes to work on removing his jeans. His legs are thick, as is the erection threatening to test the strength of his boxer briefs.

I step over in front of him and run my hands up his chest, linking my fingers behind his neck. “Almost there, but we both appear to still have on a few too many pieces of clothing.”

He reaches behind me and flicks open my bra. It hangs between us until I move my arms and allow it to drop on the floor. John runs his fingers along the hem of my panties. He hooks the material and starts to lower it to the floor. I step out, expecting him to stand back up, but that’s not what he does. He places his hands on my hips before sliding them around to the globes of my ass, giving it a gentle squeeze. Then, he leans forward and presses his tongue at my seam, licking at my clit.

A gasp falls from my mouth as I close my eyes and feel. My hands move to his head, tangling in the locks of his hair as a way to hold on. He lifts my left leg, gently placing it over his shoulder and opening me up wider. His tongue darts out as he flicks it across my swollen clit before sucking it into his mouth. I moan from the pleasure as he continues to lick right where I crave him.

His right hand moves to the underside of my thigh. His index finger brushes against my opening, coating the tip in my wetness. Gingerly, he pushes it inside, filling me in one stroke. He draws it out before sliding his finger back inside, all while continuing to lick at my clit. I can feel my release building, the pleasure flooding my veins and begging to be unleashed.

“Let go, Eve.”

Those three words, partnered with the curl of his finger deep inside me, cause me to explode like a bomb. My legs shake as my orgasm grips every nerve ending in my body. My fingers tighten in his hair, anchoring him in place, as his tongue draws out every ounce of pleasure from my body.

Just as my knees start to buckle, he moves, catching me and drawing me into his body. His mouth descends to mine, sliding his tongue against my lips until I open. I taste myself, and instead of it turning me off, as expected, it rekindles the fire burning deep inside me.

He lifts me up and carries me to his bed without breaking the kiss. I feel the bedding move to the side before he lays me down, covering my body with his own. My legs wrap around his hips as my fingers return to his hair.

“Your hands in my hair is my new favorite thing,” he murmurs, nipping at my bottom lip with his teeth.

“I had all sorts of inappropriate thoughts while I was washing and cutting your hair,” I confess, sliding my lips across his stubbled jaw.

He growls, rocking his hips. “I had an erection the entire time I was in your chair.”

“Why are you still wearing underwear?” I ask.

John quickly gets up, removing his boxer briefs in record time and pulling open the drawer on his nightstand. He grabs a brand-new box of condoms and rips open the package. His fingers fumble with the small foil packs, dropping a few on the floor before finally holding a single piece of protection. “Sorry,” he mutters, a sheepish grin on his lips.

I watch, completely mesmerized, as he sheathes himself in latex and climbs back on the bed. My legs spread wide as he takes his place between them. He lines up his cock, meeting my gaze. Swallowing hard, he says, “I feel like there are things we should have discussed before we got to this point.”

Shaking my head, I reach behind him, place my hands on his ass, and pull. “No talking. We can talk later.”

The jerking movement causes the head of his cock to penetrate my body. I gasp, needing—no, craving—more. When he makes me signal to move, I groan, “John.”

He holds my gaze, a mixture of emotion swirling in those hypnotic blue eyes. “Ready?”

My throat is thick as I try to swallow over the onslaught of emotion. “Yes.”

He presses his lips against mine and pushes forward, filling me completely. My mouth falls open in a gasp of both pleasure and a tinge of pain. I haven’t had sex since I broke up with Andrew, and the tightness is a gentle reminder.

“Take a deep breath and let it out slowly,” he whispers, holding as still as he possibly can. I can feel how tense he is, his body completely rigid against me.

I do as instructed and as the breath slowly is let out, I feel myself relax. “Please don’t stop,” I beg.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re not, I swear. Please , John.”

He carefully draws himself back before gliding forward once more. This time, all I feel is pleasure.

Him.

Me.

Together.

I arch my back and spread my thighs even more. My hands are everywhere, needing to touch every part of him. His hair, back, shoulders, and chest, I crave his skin, demand to feel the warmth and familiarity of it beneath my fingertips.

His lips claim mine once more, but this kiss isn’t sweet or gentle. It’s possessive, insistent, and spellbinding. Our tongues dance as his hips thrust. Sweat starts to cover our bodies as we let our desire take over and lead. Grinding his hips, he presses against my clit. My second orgasm is building, threatening to destroy everything in its path. And there is no stopping it. It’s the perfect storm.

Us.

I cry out as he bends down and latches on to one of my nipples. The onslaught of sensations is almost too much, yet somehow not enough either. My body is so tense, I swear I could shatter with the slightest touch.

His hips move faster, his mouth licking and sucking against my sensitive nub, and it’s all too much. I explode, unable to stop my release as I’m sent soaring once more. This time, John follows me, muttering my name as he comes, my body gripping his cock tight. He continues to move, drawing out every last ounce of release I have left, leaving me boneless and sated.

He falls to his side, taking me with him and pulling me against his chest. We lie together, both trying to get our erratic breathing under control and basking in the afterglow of amazing sex. I feel lighter, freer, than I ever have, and all I want to do is savor this feeling.

Nuzzling into his neck and placing a kiss against his Adam’s apple, I find myself whispering, “I’ve missed you.”

He exhales, holding me a touch closer than he did just a moment ago. “I’ve missed you more, sweetheart. I just didn’t realize exactly how much until right now.”

My eyelids grow heavy, too heavy to keep open. With a smile on my face and my heart full of contentment, I slowly drift off to sleep.