05 Desperate Match Read online

  “Jill.” Rowan’s voice was a harsh rasp. “You’re killing me.”

  “Oh. Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “I’m not upset. I meant I’m so aroused I’m in pain.”

  Oh. She chanced a glance at his waistline, and started getting those shivery feelings. “Can I touch you? Now?”

  He nodded. “Please.”

  They both sat frozen on the bed for a long moment and then Rowan released a bark of laughter. “Should I get naked? Would that help?”

  She nodded. “Please.” After a flurry of flying cotton and denim, Rowan soon lay back totally naked against his pillows. She kneeled next to him, eyeing him, ‘cause whoa momma, he was smoking hot. Long legs dotted with black hair, led to narrow hips. Even his erect penis was gorgeous. Not that she had a lot to compare it to, but it pleased her eye. And his torso was pure delicious yumminess, with tight abdominal muscles and inches of taut golden skin that she wanted to rub her palms over.

  She started there, placing a fingertip on his collarbone, tracing it across and running a hand down his arm.

  “Jill?”

  “Hmm?” Couldn’t he see she was busy?

  “Need a kiss here.”

  She looked at his face. A kiss? Yeah, she could do that. Carefully straddling him, she leaned in to press her lips to his. His kisses were starting to feel familiar in the best possible way. Familiar, yet wildly arousing.

  They kissed for long, heated minutes, and then she pulled back remembering she had permission to touch him. She hadn’t mentioned it to him yet, but she wasn’t going for a simple exploratory touch. She wanted it all—to make him come. Rowan always seemed to have his passion controlled around her, and though she knew why and appreciated it beyond reason, she wanted him to know she trusted him now. She wanted to see him let go and get pleasure from her touch.

  She released his mouth and moved to plant more kisses on his neck, his chin, and then down to his pectoral. Her tongue found his hardened nipples and she toyed with them, eliciting a gasp. She noticed one nipple had a little scarring.

  “Had a nipple ring,” Rowan explained. “Up until a few months back. Piercings and training do not go together.”

  “I can imagine,” she said, but what she was imagining was a sexy silver hoop going through his nipple, complementing the scattered tattoos on his biceps and torso. She’d already examined his tattoos and received explanations behind them a few nights ago. Now she kissed, then licked each spot of ink on his skin.

  “Might have to get another tattoo one of these days,” he said, observing the pattern of her kisses.

  She kneeled up to look at him. “Of what?”

  “You,” he said simply.

  That worried her. “Don’t get my name permanently on your body. It’s so romantic, but I’m superstitious. A tattoo of your girlfriend’s name is the fastest way to jinx a relationship.”

  He chuckled. “Don’t want your name. I want a butterfly.”

  “A butterfly?” He thought of her as a butterfly. “Why?”

  “Because when we met you were…”

  “Don’t say a worm,” she interrupted.

  He laughed. “Butterflies come from caterpillars, not worms, but not that either. You were in a cocoon, all protective, not letting anyone in. Now you’re a butterfly, all gorgeous colorful wings, flying free.”

  That was the single nicest thing anyone had ever said to her. Tears lodged in her throat and she struggled to keep this sexy. Nothing sexy about a woman blubbering all over you. She refocused her efforts, trailing kisses all over, but mostly above his waist. He said nothing about the speed and tempo by which she was leading this dance, but she knew he had to be getting antsy. His patience with her was the greatest gift he could’ve given her. As a reward, she moved her mouth lower and lower again until his erection bobbed under her heated breath.

  A surge of power and desire raced through her as he bit back an untranslatable word the second her tongue dared to dart out and taste him for the first time. He was delicious, and she wanted more of him in her mouth.

  “Jill,” he said on a groan.

  She didn’t respond. Couldn’t. Her mouth was busy. She’d never wanted to give this to a man the way she wanted to give it to Rowan. The last time she’d wanted to had been in high school, and she’d been too awkward and uninformed to enjoy the experience. More recently, blow jobs had either been forced on her or given as a precautionary barrier to prevent anything from penetrating her body. No, don’t go there. Jack didn’t get to join them in this bed. Here, there was only room for her and Rowan.

  She let her hands explore his body as her mouth worked him. One palm swept up his thigh, loving the crisp hairs that tickled her skin. Her other hand held his shaft in place as her tongue and lips teased him. And then she got serious.

  Using the lubrication his body made, she spread the wetness down his cock, and wrapped a tight fist around the base. Moving in unison, her mouth and hand wrung gasps and begging from him.

  “I’m close,” he said. “Can’t hold back.”

  “Don’t.” She wanted him mindless with pleasure, and she hoped he was nearing that tipping point. When his hips started rolling, and his hand cupped the back of her head, holding her in place, she knew she’d succeeded.

  A man who was worried about her sensibilities wouldn’t lock her in place to fuck her mouth. She kept up with his thrusts, maintaining her grip on his wet, hot penis, and sucked harder.

  Her body responded urgently to his need, and she knew she was wet enough to switch positions and slide down on Rowan, letting him fill her. But she held back. She still wasn’t sure she was ready and she wanted this to be all about giving to Rowan. He’d been so generous to her, she wanted to show him her appreciation. It was more than that, also. He was hands–down, the sexiest man she’d ever met, and the opportunity to touch him as he lay naked at her mercy, was too great.

  She imagined a steady stream of women had vied for the chance to get Rowan naked, but he’d chosen her. He was her match, and she wasn’t sharing.

  “Jill?” Rowan’s hand had frozen on her scalp, and she heard the question in her name. “I’m close.”

  She understood he was asking if she was cool with him coming in her mouth. She was more than cool with it. She wanted it more than she’d wanted anything in recent memory. Instead of answering him verbally, she demonstrated by speeding the pumping motion with her hand and the suction of her mouth. He didn’t last long after that.

  Thick, hot wet liquid filled her mouth, and she swallowed it with her mouth still on his pulsing penis. She chanced a glance at her lover, but his eyes were closed and his chest rippled with exertion. Her mouth remained on him until he softened; then she slowly released him and crawled back up his body to lie across him.

  His muscular arm pulled her in tight. With his eyes still shut, he kissed her cheek. “Amazing, baby. Been a long time since I’ve been with a woman, but I can safely say that was the best it’s ever been.”

  She frowned, not loving his reference to ever having another woman. “How long are we talking about?”

  “Months. Since before I moved onto campus.”

  Since she knew he’d been on campus nearly eight months, she was appeased but couldn’t help teasing him. “I was better than your last girlfriend? The one whose shampoo I’m using?”

  His eyelids fluttered open. “Huh?”

  She giggled. “I’m teasing you. The first day I was here, you told me all the toiletries in your bathroom were from your ex–girlfriend.”

  “Oh, right.” He shifted to sit up a little. “Actually…”

  “I know.” She laughed. “You never had a girlfriend on campus. I know the rules here now. You bought that stuff for me.”

  “Yeah,” he admitted, and a faint wash of pink colored his cheeks.

  “You’re the sweetest man I know.”

  “You should know,” he said. “Given that you had your mouth all over me.”

 
She laughed and tried to tickle him, but he held her in place, rolled them over and pinned her to the mattress with a shoulder and his legs. He propped up on his good arm to look her in the eye. Instinctively she shifted to not be trapped, but then she saw the tenderness in his eyes and relaxed. This was Rowan. He didn’t hurt her. He protected her.

  “You like it?” He asked. “You liked having my dick in your mouth?”

  She blushed at his frank question, but found the bravery to lick her lips and nod. “Yes. I loved it.”

  “Good. I fucking loved it. I want you in my mouth soon. When you’re ready,” he amended. “Can’t wait to taste you. I bet it’s the sweetest juice in the world.”

  She tried to speak but couldn’t. She’d never imagined Rowan like this. His body, his words were darkly sexual, testing her limits in ways that aroused her unbearably even as she flushed with embarrassment.

  “Are you wet now, Jill?” His question was like velvet rolled across her naked skin.

  She closed her eyes and nodded.

  “Can I feel?” His voice was quiet and gentle now. “Just one touch, I promise, and then I’ll back off. I swear.”

  Her answer was to lower her hands to her jeans and unfasten them. The satisfaction on Rowan’s face was worth every tiny nibble of anxiety. Slowly and so gently, it felt like butterfly wings on her abdomen, he lowered his hand between her legs and ghosted a finger under the elastic band of her panties. She knew what he’d find there.

  “Wet,” he whispered, sounding awed and excited at the same time. Before she had time to react, he removed his finger from between her legs and touched it to his tongue. “Delicious.”

  She stared at him, frozen on the bed, legs splayed apart. His touch had felt too glorious. She nearly begged for more, but something kept her mouth closed. Instinct? Self–preservation? Her body was screaming yes, and a good chunk of her brain was also.

  “You’re not ready yet,” Rowan decided. “Someday soon, your pants will come off, your legs will spread, and my mouth will be there, licking up all your honey.”

  She released a noise that was almost a squeak at Rowan’s dirty mouth that had her arousal building to a fever pitch. His smile warmed her further.

  “You like that,” he said, looking down at her. “You like when I tell you all the dirty bad things I want to do to your body?”

  She managed a nod.

  “Good. I’m going to erase every bad memory you have of your marriage and replace it with the best sex you’ve ever imagined.”

  She couldn’t imagine it, but she believed him. She believed him, and she couldn’t wait for the promised great sex.

  Chapter Nine

  Come on. Hit me like you mean it.”

  Jill circled Xander, terrified she’d miss him if she tried, but more terrified she’d actually make contact with the large soldier taunting her.

  “You can do it, Jill,” Emma called from the sidelines. “Hit him.”

  Xander took his eyes off her for a second to make a face at Emma who grinned unrepentantly back.

  “Love you, baby,” she called.

  His lips formed a ghost of a grin only for a second, but long enough that Jill caught it and felt better that the man in front of her was doing this for her benefit. Yesterday Emma had invited her to a weekly self–defense class Xander taught to the women on campus. Today he’d offered to give her a private session to catch her up to the other women.

  At first she’d resisted. She wasn’t a fighter and not much of an athlete, but Emma had easily persuaded her by reminding her that no man could hurt her if she had training to stop it. After seeing Emma demonstrate how she could take down Xander long enough to run away, Jill was in. If only she’d known some of these moves to use on Jack.

  Emma had also pointed out that if she took the job with Ikea there’d be some nights she’d be there late closing down. Wouldn’t she feel safer walking through the parking lot at night with some defensive training under her belt? Yes. Absolutely.

  She took a swipe at Xander, who dodged it easily, but she’d been expecting his maneuver and was already ducking under his arm to bring her heel down hard on his instep.

  “Ow.” Xander hopped back scowling, and she babbled a flood of apologies.

  “Don’t apologize,” he said. “You were supposed to run. Once I’m incapacitated, you get the hell out.”

  “Oh, right.” She turned and jogged a half–hearted yard away, then turned back to see Emma holding Xander and soothing his physical hurt with verbal words.

  “I think you’re ready to join us tomorrow,” Xander said.

  “Okay. Thanks.” She turned to the exit.

  “Tell Rowan the class is at six if he wants to join us. Most of the matches do,” Emma said.

  She turned back. “Really? Why?’

  “They like to help spar with us. We could spar among ourselves, but in the real world, our attackers will likely be male. If we can hold our own against a trained enhanced soldier, taking down a regular man is nothing.”

  “Oh. Good point.”

  “Plus the yoga pants,” Xander muttered, but Jill caught it.

  She glanced down at her own outfit of baggy sweats and a borrowed T–shirt from Rowan, which practically hung to her knees. She didn’t have any workout clothes, but maybe she could afford some with her second paycheck. At this point, nearly all her future paychecks were mentally promised to her clothing allowance. Vanity would be her financial downfall if she didn’t get it under control. “Well, thanks again. I’ll tell Rowan about tomorrow.” She waved at the couple and left.

  * * * * *

  “Thanks for picking me up.” Jill said for probably the fourth time to the young soldier Rowan had sent to pick her up from her night shift.

  “No worries,” he muttered again, and sped up as they neared the entrance of The Program campus. This was her first night shift at Ikea, and Rowan had refused to contemplate her taking the bus.

  She remained calm until they neared the campus gates. As usual, a large crowd huddled around the front entrance. They carried signs, bullhorns. Even some tents had been erected. They were in for the long haul. Too bad for them. She was never going back to Jack.

  She tried to ignore the signs, but it was difficult when a large image of your face was plastered on a good chunk of them. Oh look, they had her wedding photo. That was a new one. She barely recognized the smiling teenager in the photo. If only she could talk to the girl in the photo and warn her, tell her to get out before she was trapped. A sudden thought occurred as she tugged the baseball hat lower to cover her forehead and most of her eyes.

  “Windows are tinted,” her driver said. “They can’t see in.”

  She ignored him and kept pondering her current life. Would she really want to tell the younger version of herself to run? A month ago, she would’ve said hell yes. Now? Maybe not. If she hadn’t suffered through six hellish years with Jack, would she be where she was today? Would she ever have met Rowan?

  If she’d listened to her parents and gone to college, she’d likely be living in another part of the country working in a corporate career. Her mind whirled with all the what–ifs as they bypassed the protestors and took the hidden path to the Program side gate. Who knew what career path her life would’ve taken? Maybe she’d be in law school now or working sales for some big company.

  She never would have met Rowan. The thought made her heart speed up and actual tears formed in her eyes. The idea of not knowing the man she currently shared a bed with caused physical pain. He was quickly becoming her everything and her happy place.

  With him at her side, she felt as if she could do anything, be anything. Look at the way he let her go off to Ikea to work. She knew he hated every second she was off–campus, but he let her go anyway. He understood and respected her rights as a sentient being. She giggled and the noise joined the rustling of the newly green spring leaves that had arrived to play just this week. He’d actually used the words sentient being with her t
he other day and then had to tell her what it meant.

  She’d thought it was hilarious that he’d been embarrassed by his big vocabulary. She’d been impressed and slightly turned on, as she’d received new insight into him as a person when he’d explained he’d spent a lot of his life hiding his true self. He loved science fiction, but hid the fact because most of his friends teased him about being a geek if he admitted he’d seen Return of the Jedi more than fifty times. She knew now his lifelong dream was to get to Comic Con and Dragon Con.

  As soon as they were parked safely on campus, she hurried off to go find Rowan. She’d missed dinnertime on campus, but she knew Rowan would have made her a plate and was keeping it warm for her.

  “Hey, you.” She was pulled into his body the second the door to their apartment cracked open.

  She burrowed her face against his chest loving the solidity and warmth of him. “How was your day?” she asked. He helped her out of her coat and tossed it on the corner of the dresser.

  “Fine.”

  He was lying. She could see strain around his eyes and tightness to his mouth. She wanted to ask the problem, but she already knew it. She was the problem. Or rather, her ex–husband was a thorn the size of an eighteen–wheeler being rammed into The Program. Jack had refused to sign the divorce papers, refused to do anything until she met with him so he could see she wasn’t brainwashed. At least that had been last week’s story to the media.

  Jack had most of the country feeling sorry for the poor man whose young naïve wife ran off to be with an enhanced soldier. It was hard to turn on a TV these days without seeing his face or hearing him pleading and begging for his wife to come home.

  The Program couldn’t fight the media machine that had circled around Jack. From the safety of Rowan’s arms, an idea began to reform. The Program couldn’t fight against Jack’s claims without looking every inch the military powerhouse. She could though. She was half surprised they hadn’t forced her. Rowan was so busy protecting her, and Commander Shepard was too busy hating on her, neither had thought to use her as she’d tried to suggest weeks ago. If she went to the media, couldn’t she tell the truth?