“I could get used to this,” I admitted, nuzzling her hair.
“What, badly dubbed reruns of ‘Frasier’ and TV dinners?” she snarked back at me.
“You know exactly what I mean, woman.”
“Oh, ‘woman’, is it?” she said, thumping me on the chest.
Something snapped inside me, and I couldn’t pretend any longer.
“Yes, a beautiful, amazing, talented, gorgeous woman.”
Caro’s brown eyes stared up at me and I saw the uncertainty and lack of belief in herself that had always plagued her. Maybe she hadn’t changed as much as I’d thought.
I placed my beer on the bedside table, then pulled her gently into my chest, caressing her ear, gently sweeping her hair aside. I studied her face carefully before leaning in to kiss her, a soft reassuring kiss—nothing that would scare her away again.
My mouth drifted across her face, tasting, teasing, hovering over her eyelids, brushing over her chin, then returning to rest on her full lips.
Her hand crept up my stomach then inched across my chest, pausing for a moment just over my heart. I was sure she’d feel how fast it was beating, then my cool, calm cover would be blown.
She lifted her hand to cup my cheek, and I turned my face to kiss her palm.
I pulled her in more tightly, so she was half-lying across me, and I ran my hands up her spine while I kissed her neck. I was so turned on I was finding it hard to keep control as I ran my tongue over her throat, then tugged on her lower lip, begging to be inside her one way or another … and then I was, and my heart swooped and spun, like an airplane about to crash and burn.
She moaned against my lips, a long, drawn-out sigh of need and pleasure as she hooked her leg over my thigh, pulling our bodies closer together. My balls were aching and my dick was granite, trying to climb out of my jeans to get to her.
The kiss deepened, but whether it was her or me, I couldn’t tell. My hands dropped to the waistband of her jeans and I pulled her t-shirt free, at last reaching bare skin, before I played with the elastic of her bra. Too soon, moron! my brain screamed at my dick, so I dropped my hands down to cup her ass.
She trembled, and I froze. Was I pushing her too fast? Was this going to blow up in my face again?
She pushed away from me and my heart jolted, but then she reached up to touch me.
“Are you sure, Caro?” I asked quietly.
“I’m sure,” she said.
Then she sat up and pulled off her t-shirt. I nearly swallowed my tongue.
Her breasts were every bit as good as the warm flesh that had haunted me in too many dreams for too many years. I yanked my own t-shirt over my head, ignoring the ripping sound as they tangled with my dog tags. I was desperate to feel her skin against mine.
I reached for her again, but then paused, watching her eyes roam over my body. Most women liked what they saw—I hoped it still worked for her. Her fingers hovered over the top of my left arm.
“You got a tattoo?”
Yeah, women always liked that.
“Standard Marine issue,” I joked.
I’d got the ink back in San Diego just after I’d graduated from boot camp. Most of my graduating class had done the same thing.
I let her fingers trace the shape while I slowly stroked the silky skin of her back.
“The Marine insignia, right?” she said. “What does it stand for?”
I smiled—I had no doubt she knew exactly what it stood for, but if she needed to take a moment, that was fine by me.
“The eagle represents the nation, well, protecting the nation—see the way its wings are spread out? The globe is our worldwide presence, and the anchor is because of our naval heritage.”
Then she squinted her eyes to read the words written on the ribbon in the eagle’s beak.
“Semper fidelis—always faithful,” she whispered, her eyes serious.
I nodded. I wanted to tell her that I’d never stopped loving her, although I wasn’t sure that was entirely true. She’d haunted me for so long, there were times when it had felt more like hate than love. I was one fucked up mofo.
She pressed her lips over my tattoo and then lay back on the bed, pulling me toward her. This time there was no uncertainty in her eyes, and I pressed her down into the mattress, kissing her hard. I let myself reach up to touch her beautiful breasts, my fingers roaming over the firm flesh, gliding my fingers under her bra and teasing the nipples until they were rigid.
I snapped her bra open easily and pushed the shoulder straps over her arms, tossing the lacey scrap of material onto the floor.
I tasted her, grazing my teeth over those tight little buds, hearing her biting out a moan of pleasure as she arched her back. I hooked my hand underneath, half lifting her off the bed.
She responded by dragging her nails down my spine, making me hiss with an edge of pain. My hips ground against her and I sucked the skin on her shoulder, biting hard enough so she could feel my teeth.
Her hands were all over me, and I was lost in the sensations of everything she was doing, but then she slid her hand inside the front of my jeans, and squeezed hard enough to make me see stars.
“Fuck, Caro!” I groaned.
Taking her lead, I pushed my hands underneath her waistband, stroking her ass, then moving to the front of her jeans and running my fingers under her panties, pulling gently on the soft curls, massaging her in slow circles, letting my index finger drift lower.
A woman didn’t have to go bare to turn me on. Maybe because Caro had been my first, I’d always had a thing for manicured pussy. I’m not saying I liked an 80s bush, but completely bare was always something of an anti-climax. Just sayin’.
When I realized how wet she was, I nearly lost it; instead I forced myself to have some fucking control, and moved my fingers in and out slowly, building her up until she was crying out and moaning.
That just about finished me. I sat up quickly and unzipped her jeans, hauling them roughly down her legs, before catching my fingers through the fragile fabric of her panties and tossing them to the floor.
Now I had her naked, I touched her everywhere without apology: her chest, down her stomach, across her hips and along her thighs. Then I went for her sweet spot with my index finger, pressing hard, back and forth. Target identified, take aim…
She groaned, and pushed my hand away.
“No. You. I want you,” she gasped.
Oh fucking yeah!
I unzipped my pants and stood to let them drop to the floor, but before I could lie down again, she knelt up on the edge of the bed, pushing her breasts into my chest, and grabbed a handful of my ass. Then she tugged my briefs down my hips and finally my dick was locked and loaded and ready for her.
She licked her lips in a way that had me breaking out in a sweat, and I bit back a groan as she ran one hand down my shaft and squeezed my balls with the other.
“Fuck, Caro!”
She rubbed the thumb over the sensitive head of my cock, and I couldn’t help the shudder of pleasure that flooded through me.
I was one second from throwing her down and plowing into her, but then I remembered something pretty fucking important.
“Are you on the pill?”
She shook her head, a disappointed expression on her face. “I don’t usually have a need for it. Please tell me you have condoms, otherwise ‘making out’ is all we’re going to be doing.”
Did she really think I was unprepared? I bent down and pulled a pack of condoms from the pocket of my leather jacket. Oo-rah!
“Just wondering,” she said, glancing up at me, a small smile threatening to break into a full-on grin, “but when did you buy them, or are they old stock?”
“Nope, new packet,” I said, and tossed her the small box. “Check it out.”
She toyed with the packet for a moment before looking up at me.
“So, no need to practice putting one on then?”
No way, baby. I knew she was teasing me, reminding me that as a horny 17-year-old, I’d admitted to her that I’d practiced putting on a condom so I’d be good to go if and when we ever got it together. Even then I’d been the poster boy for latex. I guess you could say I’d been wrapped and ready ever since.