At Your Command. Julie Miller

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      “And I agreed to that. I have a new job to focus on. I’m fixing up my own place. I’m not looking to invest in a long-term relationship.” She pulled her lush bottom lip between her teeth as she slipped into deep thought. Zachariah fought to get past the need to taste that sweet lip himself, and listened to what she had to say. “Saying goodbye is tougher than I expected.”

      “Yeah.” Wow. That was profound, buddy. He thumbed over his shoulder toward the door. “I need to go.”

      Becky released her lip and straightened. She’d checked whatever emotion she’d been feeling, and now he could see the wheels churning behind those deep blue eyes. Zachariah braced himself to deal with whatever she was thinking up. “How long does it actually take you to get to the base from here?”

      “About an hour. Unless I hit some freaky midmorning traffic out of D.C.”

      Her lips curved into a serene smile. “I just realized—I’ve never seen you in uniform before.”

      Pulling his shoulders back, Zachariah proudly gave her a good look at what 280 pounds of big, bad Marine looked like. “Captain Zachariah Clark at your service, ma’am.”

      Becky lapped her sweet, pink tongue around her lips in an assessing, appreciative pout that made his entire body lurch. “You wear it well.”

      “Thanks.”

      She scanned him from shoulder to shoulder, from head to toe. Then she looked him straight in the eye. “Take it off, Captain.”

      “Becky—”

      “I said take it off.”

      In a single beat of time, the atmosphere in the room had thickened.

      “The hotel cleaners just sent it up, starched and pressed.”

      “So we’ll make a point not to wrinkle it.” She reached for the knot of terry cloth between her breasts and dropped her towel.

      Naked.

      Damn. Zachariah’s cock throbbed to shameless attention as he stood transfixed by all her abundant glory.

      “Take it off. And get over here.”

      Zachariah tossed the duffel onto the bed. “At your command.”

      He stripped in record time, never even considering the bed as he swapped his uniform for their box of condoms, and strode across the room with a single purpose. Her.

      Becky’s kiss was waiting for him as he lifted her up onto the bathroom counter and spread her legs to move between them. She smoothed the friction between their lips with her tongue, then delved inside to toy with his. Every stroke kicked up the heat throbbing through him another impossible notch. She linked her arms behind his neck and pulled herself up against his body, teasing his chest with the brush of her nipples, teasing him down below with her fragrant, dampening heat. She was a decadent delight for each of his senses—from the contrasting reflection in the mirror of his suntanned hands moving over her fairer skin to the minty taste of her bold tongue in his mouth.

      Zachariah tried to savor every moment, taking note of every sensation so he could replay the memories months from now when he was stuck in the middle of the desert or in some foreign jungle—far from letters and e-mails, farther still from kisses and touches like these.

      But patience wasn’t his friend this morning. Becky’s mouth was pliant and eager, matching every foray he made. She trailed her fingers along his spine, sparking an electric impulse in every cell she touched. Still anchoring her atop the counter, Zachariah slipped his hand down between them, seeking her heat, testing her readiness. He stroked one finger along her slick crevice and she gasped, tearing her mouth from his and burying her face against his neck.

      “Mmm.”

      An answering groan from deep in his chest was all he could manage. He dipped one finger inside her, then two. She writhed against his hand. He found her responsive nub with his thumb and begged the cool, calm, controlled attorney to go wanton on him.

      “Not fair,” she gasped, nipping at his collarbone. “You have to—” her hum vibrated against his skin “—come…too.” Her knees flexed convulsively around his hips as she neared her release. He knew the feeling. Understood the need. His aching dick poked her hip and thigh as he rocked helplessly against her. Zachariah was like a temperature trigger on a brick of C-4 explosive, rapidly heating up to the point of detonation.

      Becky’s fingers dug into his back. “Zachariah?” She was breathing hard. “Zacha—” breathing deeply “—Zachari…?” Breathing quickly.

      After seven days together, he recognized the sound. She was coming.

      So was he.

      “Not yet.” She kissed his neck. Kissed his chin. Grabbed his wrist and pulled his slick fingers from her before she climaxed. “Together,” she demanded. “This last time, we do it together.”

      Their fingers tangled as they reached for the condoms he’d dropped beside her. There was laughter. Kisses. Fumbling hands.

      “Enough.” He issued the order before he embarrassed himself right there on the counter. Taking charge of the race to their completion, he ripped open a package and turned his back on her to sheathe himself.

      Not to be left out of the action for even a moment, she kissed his shoulder blade and reached around to tease his nipples into tortuous attention. “Beckster…” He groaned the warning, then went back on the offensive.

      They were damn well going to finish this together. Zachariah turned and pulled her to the edge of the counter. She was more than a foot shorter than him. But tall enough that she was aligned perfectly with his straining, needy self. He pushed her thighs apart and nudged her entrance.

      Wanton, indeed. With her hands clutching his biceps for balance, she arched her neck, thrusting her breasts up like an offering, her luscious globes bobbing beneath his hungry gaze. He studied the delicate red and blue veins engorging the hard tips, then squeezed one in his big hand and dipped his head to suckle her. Becky bucked against him as he pulled harder and harder. “Please. Please.”

      He didn’t want to leave her. His conscience said he couldn’t just walk. They’d been pretty careful. But they’d also been pretty wild. Pretty intense. Pretty…frequent.

      What if her pill or his condom had failed?

      What if he came back and she’d moved on to someone else?

      Couldn’t happen.

      Wouldn’t happen.

      “Zachariah…” she commanded, linking her heels behind his thighs and opening herself even wider. “Take me. Now.”

      The order alone was enough to send him right to the edge.

      Pinpricks of light danced behind his eyes as the inevitable countdown toward detonation began. “Marry me.”

      “What?”

      He slid his tip inside, barely an inch—denying for a moment what they both craved. They were СКАЧАТЬ