Текст книги "Danny's Main"
Автор книги: Lisa N. Paul
сообщить о нарушении
Текущая страница: 1 (всего у книги 18 страниц)
* * * *
Danny’s Main
Copyright © 2015 by Lisa N. Paul
ISBN: 978-0-9892465-8-2
All rights reserved.
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products, bands, and/or restaurants referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Dedication
To you, the Believers,
Happily Ever After does exist when you find the person you are meant to love and are willing to fight for every single day.
To you, the Achievers,
It is through your example that I have seen how brilliant love can be when the newness wears off and the beauty beneath shines through. Thank you for showing me that while Ever After may not always mean days filled with happiness, they will always be days filled with love.
L
Table of Contents
Title Page
Chapter One – Customer Service
Chapter Two – Lysol and Vagisil
Chapter Three – I Wasn’t The One Who Needed Help
Chapter Four – Are You Crazy?
Chapter Five – Thank God For That
Chapter Six – Now You’ve Got Her
Chapter Seven – Took Tommy Jones
Chapter Eight – Ended Up Being Your Ladder
Chapter Nine – Wanderlusty
Chapter Ten – Hint Number Three
Chapter Eleven – Always You
Chapter Twelve – That’s Gonna Leave A Bruise
Chapter Thirteen – I’m Not Done Yet
Chapter Fourteen – My Cousin Vinny
Chapter Fifteen – Your Mere Existence
Chapter Sixteen – The Empty Contest
Chapter Seventeen – He Was Ours
Chapter Eighteen – Then I Got A Friend
Chapter Nineteen – Moving Not Dying
Chapter Twenty – Danny’s On Main
Chapter Twenty-One – We Can’t Just Take Her On – We’ve Gotta Take Her In
Chapter Twenty-Two – This IS Home
Chapter Twenty-Three – Ashley and Ryan
Chapter Twenty-Four – A Sunday Dinner
Chapter Twenty-Five – First Time For Everything
Chapter Twenty-Six – Silver Lining
Chapter Twenty-Seven – Welcome Home
Chapter Twenty-Eight – The Woman Still Blushes
Chapter Twenty-Nine – The Perfect Day For A Party
Chapter Thirty – Remove The Space
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Chapter One
Customer Service
Twenty-Eight Years Ago
SWEAT TRICKLED DOWN his spine faster than his army dress uniform could absorb it, but that didn’t stop him from trudging into the small bar. He couldn’t wait to peel off his uniform and stand beneath the punishing spray of the shower, but first he needed a drink. In fact, first, second, and third on his list were drinks, followed by a wash down and bed.
The anniversary of his brother’s death always left Danny Marcus gutted, but over the past couple of years, numbness had crept in. It gripped him like a fist squeezing his soul, and no matter what he did to get it to release its hold, to instead feel the burning angst that used to whisper that vengeance was the only way to keep Jeff’s memory from fading, the numbness continued to spread.
When Danny had enlisted and left for basic training just after graduating high school, he relished in the glory of retribution. Payback, he assured his grieving father on the day of Danny’s mother’s funeral. She had committed suicide two years after losing her oldest son, leaving her husband and two younger boys to grieve further.
“Payback won’t bring Jeffrey back, son. It’ll only take you further away.”
His father’s words had fallen on deaf, teenaged ears, but now, Danny was beginning to see the wisdom in his old man’s advice. Being part of the 82ndAirborne Division certainly had helped to fuel Danny’s adrenaline rush, but even the jumps were losing their spark. A restless soldier wasn’t one needed in the air or on the ground patrolling the jungles of Korea—not that his performance was anything less than stellar—so when the opportunity had arisen for a transfer to Fort Meade in the third year of his four-year enlistment, Danny gladly took it.
He’d soon need to decide whether to re-up his commitment to the United States Army or move on to his original path, firefighting. However, that decision wouldn’t be made that evening. Not when the emptiness threatened to consume him. Not when numbness spread through him from his fingers to his toes. Not when his brother’s voice still whispered in his ear.
“Hey there, I’d offer you a beer, but it looks like you may need something a bit stronger.”
“Huh?” That sweet sound certainly wasn’t Jeff.
“I said you look like you could use a drink, Sergeant. What can I get for you?” The honeyed voice could have lulled him to much-needed sleep if not for the alarming beauty of the woman it came from.
“Shot of whiskey,” he croaked, uncertain if he’d left his voice in his memories or at work. Either way, it escaped him the moment he saw the woman’s crystal gray eyes. “A double, please.”
The legs of his barstool scratched the scarred wooden floor as he planted himself on the seat and watched the young strawberry-blonde barkeep pour amber liquid into two small glasses.
“Here you go, Sergeant.”
Hearing his rank still caught him off guard. Just like returning stateside, his promotion to sergeant was brand-new.
“Umm, Sergeant Marcus?”
“Sorry, you say something?” Christ, could he act like a bigger fucking tool? This chick couldn’t be twenty if she was a day, and he was acting like a bumbling idiot. Even though her smile was warm and inviting, innocence personified, her eyes told stories of survival and heartache. Fuck, what could she know of heartache? He needed drinks, not conversation.
“I asked if you’d you like me to start a tab for you?”
“Yeah, sweetheart, keep the tab open and the drinks coming.”
As if curtains were released from their ties, all of the openness in her expression vanished behind a veneer of a smile.
“Julie, are you giving that handsome sergeant a problem?” A bottled redhead bopped from one end of the bar to the other, stopping in front of Danny.
He hadn’t needed his time overseas, in countless pubs, bars, and hotels, to know exactly what the older woman was. He didn’t need her name tag, which read Bunny, to explain what she was looking for. Her tight clothes, Aqua Net-sprayed hair, shellacked face, and overzealous smile told her whole story. She was a MiliSnag—a woman who did whatever she could to snag a military man. From the looks of her, she’d snagged and bagged more than her fair share of men in uniform. He could practically see the DNA of the soldiers past lingering on the older woman’s overexposed skin.
“Sorry, honey, she’s still new here, friendly and all, but”—Bunny pushed herself up over the counter, the move accentuating her ample cleavage and wafting cheap perfume up his nose—“she doesn’t know what men like you really need.”
“Well, Bunny, being as you can clearly read me,” he flirted, knowing her pour would be more generous if he was kind, “I bet you can tell the only things I need tonight are whisky, beer, and my thoughts.” He leveled her with a smoldering glance that made women swoon. “You’ll help me out, won’t you?”
“Oh, sure. I love to serve a man who serves our country. I’ll keep ‘em coming, handsome, and I’ll also keep an eye on you. Just call if you need me.” Bunny batted her false lashes before pouring him another shot and a mug of beer. Her toothy smile tried for innocence in a way that would make her namesake happy but reminded Danny of a fox in soft rabbit fur instead.
No matter. He slammed back the warm amber liquid before reaching for the cold beer. Tonight was about remembering and then…once again, letting go.
***
UHHG, EACH SHIFT was the same damn story. Julie watched her manager throw herself at every uniformed male who walked through the door. Julie had only been employed at Chester’s Pub a handful of months, but it was five months of long hours and, often times, back-breaking work. Double shifts tended to be that way—at least they were for Julie. After her first week, when Chester had kept a close eye on her, her boss kept irregular hours, popping in and out during the day. He always returned around closing time to cash out the drawer and close up the joint. Which left Bertha, a.k.a. Bunny, in charge of the staff. The woman could sell drinks almost as well as she sold herself, but a manager she was not.
Aside from Bunny and Julie, there were two female bartenders and two male bar-backs. Problem was, Bunny spent more time hopping on the bar-backs than helping out with the work. Therefore, aside from the revolting soundtrack of grunts and giggles, Julie was on her own to set up each day. Usually Bunny would assist a patron home—customer service, she called it—before the bar closed, leaving the remaining staff to cleanup. Chester didn’t seem to care if Bunny was around as long as the bar was shut down correctly. A fine woman Ms. Bertha was. Julie swallowed the sour taste that seemed to follow thoughts of her manager.
Whatever, if she’s what guys want… Julie shrugged, sparing one last look at the beautiful man at the end of the bar. Upon first glance, she wouldn’t have guessed him to be like so many men she’d met before. There was something about him, something different. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she was obviously wrong if he was willing to flirt with Bunny. Julie had been wrong before. Hell, in the past year and a half, she’d been wrong more often than she’d been right. Stay in the present, Julie. Work hard, make money, and move on.
The evening passed in a flurry of pulled beers, poured shots, loud music playing from the jukebox, and the ruckus of men and women out to unwind. While a good portion of the customers were from Fort Meade, Chester’s also brought in a bunch of civilians, both men and women.
Julie had been tending bar since she turned eighteen, but Chester’s was the first establishment where the clientele were men and women who served the United States. That was one of the reasons she chose to work at the bar even if Bunny came with the position. After everything she’d been through, the thought of being around so much bravery, so much strength and courage, made it easier to get up each morning. She wasn’t looking to “bed” a person in uniform, but if she could absorb some of their fortitude through osmosis… hell, she’d work her fingers to the bone just to be in their presence.
Around closing time, Bill, the cute new hire, set three cases of beer he’d just brought in from the storage room on the bar so he could restock the fridge. “Hey, Jul, have you seen Bunny? She said she’d give me a ride at the end of the shift...”
“Didn’t she give you one before your shift started?” Julie deadpanned.
“Umm…” At least the guy had the decency to look chagrinned. Maybe he wasn’t so bad. He shrugged, chest puffed out with male pride. “She wanted me. Who am I to say no, right?”
Wrong again, Julie. Wrong. Again.
“Well, slick, looks like that was the only ride you’ll be getting from Bunny tonight, because she left about ten minutes ago to escort a customer home.” She would have laughed at the baffled look on Bill’s face had it not seemed so genuine. “Don’t feel too bad. You may have had a chance if your shirt had stripes instead of letters.”
“What?”
“Bunny prefers them in uniform, Bill. You haven’t noticed?”
The young guy’s glare conveyed more than words would have.
“Ahh, you did know, but you thought you’d be different.” A pang of sympathy washed over her as she chose her words delicately. “I’ve only been here for a few of months, so feel free to disregard what I’m about to say, but some people are looking to fill glasses that are cracked. Doesn’t matter how much they pour, theirs will always be half empty because they choose to keep a damaged cup instead of taking a chance with a brand-new one.”
“Are you talking about Bunny?” he asked quietly, his brow lifted.
Julie stared at the guy, young just like her but obviously open to hearing what she was offering. “I don’t know, Bill. Am I?”
Leaving him to stock the beer, Julie walked to the other end of the bar. Last call had been announced before Bunny’s departure, so Julie was just squaring away tabs, calling cabs, and serving water to those in need. The sexy sergeant had remained planted on his stool for hours, leaving only to use the restroom. She’d watched him as he walked, telling herself it was to make certain he was tolerating his alcohol, but that was a lie. The truth was, she couldn’t keep her eyes off of him no matter how hard she tried—not that she’d tried very hard.
He hadn’t even noticed her prying eyes. In fact, he’d barely seemed to notice any of the many women vying for his attention. They would send him drinks, and he’d send them a crooked grin of gratitude. But each and every time a woman took the next step and approached him, Julie noticed the interaction swiftly ended with the woman nodding, smiling agreeably, and retreating to her friends. In the nearly two years that she’d been working in bars—first waitressing, then bartending—Julie had never seen such charming rejection.
“For a man who’s been drinking most of the night, your tab is pretty light.” Julie slid his bill across the bar with a smile.
“Thanks.” The man accepted the slip of paper and raised his eyes to hers. Even though his hazel eyes were rimmed in red, his gaze was no less powerful, no less haunted.
She should have felt ashamed of the sexual awareness that spiked through her body at the sight of the clearly tortured man. Should have. But when he stood from the stool and dug his hand into his uniform pants and pulled out folded bills, Julie knew it was time to speak or forever hold her peace.
“How about if I pour you a glass of water and you sit here for a bit?” She wanted to kick herself for her overeager tone.
“You’re a beautiful woman”—his eyes traveled her face yet, she could swear he didn’t see her at all—“but I’m not looking for anything tonight. Truly sorry.” His rough voice sent tingles up her spine, quickening her pulse and turning her insides to liquid.
She inhaled slowly, allowing her core temperature to cool. “So that’s how you did it? I’ve been wondering.” Julie swallowed, trying her best to keep the embarrassing smile from spreading over her lips. “Some real talent you’ve got there, ace.” She wasn’t sure what shocked her more: when he wrapped his large hand around her wrist to stay her movement or the way her body reacted to such a small touch. “Yes?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” His narrowed eyes penetrated hers as if begging for answers to more questions than the one he’d just asked.
Nibbling her top lip, she stared at the place where their skin connected. Heat climbed her neck and kissed her cheeks. Cotton Candy. That was what her father used to say, that she blushed pink like cotton candy and was just as sweet. The memory that hadn’t crossed her mind in a long while was both a loving stroke and a sucker punch. Withdrawing her hand from the uniformed stranger’s, she stepped back and swallowed again.
“What it meant, Sergeant, was as many women as I saw approach you this evening is as many as I saw you turn down. Yet they all left smiling, as if they hadn’t been rejected. Now I understand why.”
The man tilted his head, confusion warring with the sullenness he’d worn for hours.
“You make them feel regarded before letting them down easy.” His brows pinched together as if he didn’t quite grasp her meaning, so she tried to clarify. “It’s hard on a woman’s ego to be rejected. But the way you do it, well… you’re good. Not a thing to hate about that. A regarded rejection almost feels like a stroke instead of a brush off.” Walk away, Jul, before you embarrass yourself further.
“That how you feel? Rejected?”
Warmth once again raised the length of her neck. “Nope,” she lied. “The only thing I was offering was a glass of water and a place to sit.” Julie licked her dry lips and collected money from the customers looking to settle up.
Chester had shown up around last call and was likely holed up in his office, doing whatever it was he did back there, while Bill flirted with the woman who’d most likely be taking him home at closing time. A sprinkle of giggles fell from the mouth of Bill’s new friend as she squeezed his flexed biceps. Oh yes, she’d be giving him a ride for sure.
“It’s Julie, right?” the sexy sergeant asked, drawing her attention away from her coworker.
She nodded, sauntering back to him.
“One more shot of whisky…please?”
Most female bartenders would have probably given the guy anything he wanted, and by the hint of confidence in his request, he damn well knew it. But she wasn’t most bartenders. Julie Bell was a rule follower, and she always had been. She’d watched him carefully during the evening, and while most wouldn’t notice, his fine motor skills had definitely become impaired and his speech slightly slurred.
“I’m sorry, Sergeant, but last call was a while ago; I’m done serving for the night.” She repeated his words from earlier. “Truly sorry.”
A slow, easy smile tugged at his mouth, melting her from toes to shoulders in less than a second. It reached his eyes and made them sparkle. “A regarded rejection—very nice, Julie. You’re right, I feel nothing but fondness toward you.” The pair broke out in quiet laughter when he reached over the bar. “I’m Danny Marcus.”
“Julie Bell. It’s nice to meet you, Sergeant Marcus. But you’re still not getting a shot of whisky.”
He chuckled. “Just Danny, and that’s fine. Truth be told, I may already be drunk.”
God, the man’s throaty laugh had her nipples drawing into sensitive peaks beneath her bra.
“If we’re being honest, you’ve been drunk for a while.” Julie grabbed a high ball and filled it with ice. “That’s why I didn’t want you to leave.” She dropped her gaze and poured water into the glass.
The heat of Danny’s touch once again startled her. “If we’re being honest, Julie, then don’t lie.”
Inebriated or not, the man knew exactly what he was talking about, so she stood silently and waited for him to continue.
“I’m sure you’re concerned for my safety, and for that, I’m grateful. But don’t pretend you haven’t spent tonight wondering what it would feel like to have me kiss you. And ‘cause we’re only doing truth here, my truth is I’ve been dying to taste your lips since the second I saw them.”
Holy shit, it’s possible I just had a mini orgasm from words alone. Julie shook her head, attempting to clear her thoughts before saying them. “You said you weren’t interested in anything but your thoughts tonight.” The reminder was as much for her as it was him. Julie snapped her jaw shut, the sound of teeth clacking startling her. With a small shake to her head, she attempted to clear her thoughts.
“Been holding memories close all day.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Without sounding like a cheesy loser, I’d appreciate the chance to hold you for a little while instead.”
So much vulnerability, so much raw truth. She had a feeling he wasn’t the kind of man to normally open up, nor would he appreciate the reminder of it when the sun rose.
Well, Mom and Dad, here goes my first act of rebellion. I hope it doesn’t turn out as dumb as it sounds in my head. Her heart pounded as she placed a clean shot glass on the bar. His tentative smile built as his brows lifted in what could only be described as surprise when Danny watched her grab the bottle of whisky off the shelf.
“You’re right, it does sound a wee bit cheesy, but you were right about something else too. “She poured half a shot and downed it neatly, sparing not a drop. “I want so badly to kiss you, I can almost taste it.” The way his eyes lit up with excitement was comical. After pouring a generous amount of liquid into the glass, she inhaled deeply, slid the glass forward, and lifted her gaze to his. “But I’m not really a PDA kind of girl, and you’re in no condition to drive. So how about you let me drive you back to the barracks, and you can pay me with a kiss good night?”
While it may have only lasted a second or two, the silence between them felt like an eternity. In that small window of time, Julie waffled between mortification and anger. She was no pure virgin looking for a prince, but she certainly didn’t normally throw herself at strangers. If it wasn’t for the dark look of desire shadowing his face, she’d have been rocking in the phone booth, wishing for a magical escape route. That said, from the way his nostrils flared and his gaze seemed to sear her skin, she knew her invitation was all but accepted. Thank God.
Danny downed the whiskey, left crisp bills on the bar top, and abruptly stood. “I’ll be right back.” He moved toward the restroom, his balance more impaired than it had been on his last trip.
Shit, maybe that last shot wasn’t such a great idea. That’s what I get for breaking the rules. “Hey, Bill, I’m gonna drive that guy home. You okay to help Chester close down?”
His incredulous look stung nearly as much as his words. “Going for the stripes now too, Jules? Huh, didn’t peg you for that type.”
“Wow, going for an asshole vibe, huh? Funny, I knew you were exactly that type.” Julie clocked out, said goodnight to Chester, and met Danny by the door.
Bill’s words replayed in her mind, but she wasn’t attracted to Danny because of his uniform. In fact, she was attracted to him in spite of it. No matter how much respect she had for those who served their country, the last thing she wanted was to get involved with someone who willingly put their life in danger. Stop it, Julie. This is just one night, one kiss.
The short ride to the barracks was a quiet one, other than Danny giving directions to his living quarters. They seemed to be stuck in their own thoughts. With each passing minute, Julie wondered if the heavy flirting and promised kiss had more to do with the alcohol Sergeant Marcus had drunk than mutual desire. And by the time she’d pulled up in front of his place, she’d accepted, even found some sort of comfort in the fact that nothing further would happen between them. What the hell had she been thinking going home with him?
“Take a few aspirin and a glass of water before you go to sleep, Sergeant Marcus, and you shouldn’t feel too horrible in the morning,” Julie advised as she put her 1983 Datsun in park but left the engine idling.
Narrowed eyes met hers. “That wasn’t the deal, Ms. Bell.” Danny shifted in his seat, bringing his hand to the side of her face. The pad of his thumb gently brushed her jaw. “You lived up to your end; I’d like to live up to mine.”
Giving her no time to reply, no time to refuse, Danny’s lips were on hers. The air caught in her lungs and quickly released as he led the kiss like a dance. Soft and slow at first, he nibbled her lips as his other hand weaved through her hair, pulling her closer to him. His scent was whisky and mint and something uniquely him—primitive and masculine—and she couldn’t help but sigh in appreciation. In that moment, he slipped his tongue between her parted lips while pulling her tighter, and their kiss deeper. The fine hairs on her arms stood at attention as their tongues glided together and their breaths tangled. She felt bereft when he pulled away. Need pulsed through her veins, and desire burned at her core.
“Come inside with me, Julie.” His tone was a gentle command, but his eyes begged.
She didn’t want to over think the situation; she only wanted to feel. “Okay, Danny.” She turned off the ignition, dropped the keys in her purse, and followed him into his living quarters.
The sparse open space held a worn couch, a small dinette set, and multiple boxes in various sizes—clearly an indicator of a move, but in or out, she had no idea.
“Are you coming or going?” she asked, gesturing to the open creates.
“Just moved in. I’ve only managed to unpack the kitchen and the bathroom,” he slurred. “The necessities. Been like a goddamn scavenger hunt for the past three days.” He looked at the chaos and sighed, saying more to himself than to her, “I’ll finish unpacking this weekend. “He ambled into the small kitchen and opened the cupboard to the left of the sink. “Want something to drink?”
She wasn’t sure if she spoke her decline or just shook her head, but Danny left the glass in the cupboard, closed the door, and stalked over to her. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
Not at all smooth or poetic, but sexy as sin, and Julie swooned before his hands made purchase on her skin. Their lips crashed as his tongue surged into her mouth in a hungry kiss. A ripple of excitement shimmied down her torso when she was pulled tight against his body. His large hand cupped the base of her skull, twirling her long silken ponytail around his knuckles, and to her surprise, he yanked on the tresses just hard enough to cause a bite of pain. That bite bloomed into pleasure that she’d never before experienced.
“Ahh, Danny—”
“Shh,” he whispered into her neck. “Let me make you feel good. Watching you move behind that bar all night… got me so hard but wondering what you look like when you come, what you’d taste like,” He grinded his hard length into her, “That’s the shit that keeps us going when we’re fighting for our fucking lives.”
Every dirty word that left his mouth stoked the small flame his kiss had ignited within her, spreading warmth through her veins. She’d never had a guy, no matter how intimately she’d known him, speak so frankly about sex, and in one short evening, this man had managed to unwrap desires she hadn’t been aware of.
Breathless, she stared as Danny’s deft fingers slowly unfastened the buttons on his dress uniform. His white tank top barely registered before it was swiped over his head and tossed to the floor. Julie swallowed. Twice. Even the cocky grin that stared back at her couldn’t detract from the ridiculously sexy man before her. Tanned skin covered rippled muscles on a frame that seemed even more devastating with his shirt off. She smoothed her tongue over suddenly dry lips as she consumed him with her eyes. Hell, just seeing the man was like getting a glimpse of the ice cream truck in the dog days of summer—she’d do just about anything to get a lick of the sweet confections being offered.
Stone still, he watched, as if getting pleasure from her appraisal. She stepped toward him and her hand lifted of its own accord, aching to touch the warm flesh of his right bicep, where the American flag was boldly inked.
“My first tattoo,” he grunted as she lightly traced the red, white, and blue art.
She nodded, although his gaze stared straight ahead and his body tense, a perfect position of attention. Without breaking contact, she slowly walked around his frame, stopping behind his broad back. A massive pair of wings stretched from shoulder to shoulder over his beautiful smooth skin. There looked to be some sort of parachute in the middle of the wings, the number eighty-two etched boldly through the strings.
He answered her unasked question. “My jump wings. I’m in the 82ndAirborne Division.”
Reverently, she ran her palm over the entire tattoo and sent up a silent prayer of thanks to him and all of the men and women who so boldly served their country every day. Then she continued her perusal to the front of his body.
At first glance, her eyes landed on the dog tags that rested in the valley of his thick, defined chest. But as she reached for them, she noticed the tattoo neatly printed on his left pec, directly over his heart. Her stomach dropped as panic sliced through her gut. July sixteenth. Today was July sixteenth. What the hell? With trembling fingers, she caressed the ink, then lifted her gaze to his. She saw his pain.
“My brother.”
Julie swallowed back her gasp and lowered her head so he wouldn’t see the tears that threatened to fall. No matter the meaning behind the date, Danny’s expression made it obvious that July sixteenth was a permanent heartbreak. “She understood that all too well. Without thinking of the consequences, Julie leaned forward and pressed her lips to him, to his brother, giving all she had to the beautiful broken man before her.
As if her gentle kiss shattered the façade holding him together, his vulnerability showed, leaving raw desire in his gaze. He pulled her roughly, almost violently, to him, and his lips crushed hers. Hunger the likes she’d never felt before burned in her belly, demanding satisfaction, begging for more. Spirals of ecstasy shot straight to her core when Danny’s tongue went from tracing her lips to plunging between them. Julie mewed as she pressed her body against his, needing more contact, more skin, more…more.
“Lift your arms, honey,” he insisted, hands already at her waist. The thought of not taking things further barely crossed her mind as she followed his command and watched her tank top hit the floor. “So goddamn sexy.” Glassy, red-rimmed, hazel eyes stared at her pink-cotton-clad breasts as if he’d won the lottery. He licked his lips before shifting his eyes to hers. “I wanna see what’s under that bra, but the deal was a kiss. Know we’ve already crossed that line, but I won’t move further unless you’re onboard.”
Oh my God. Was she on board? Should it matter that the man was drunk and may not remember her name in the morning? Maybe, but she didn’t just want to take her clothes off for the man—she wanted to burn them. Instead of giving that answer, she reached behind her back and unhooked the pink cotton. The way his eyes widened as the straps slid down her shoulders would be permanently burned into her brain. Yes, being taken home by Sergeant Marcus had been a great decision after all.
