Page 147 of Major Love

And then she’s looking up at me with those big bright eyes that had me wrapped around her little finger since we started high school, and I drop the box of condoms onto the bed for a moment, knowing that she wants a closer look at what she’s just seen inside.

“It’s not important, baby,” I murmur pre-emptively, before tucking my middle finger beneath the chain and pulling out the dog-tags from when I was in active service.

But I can almost see Sunday’s heart stuttering in her chest, a whole whirlwind of emotions playing in her irises as she gets up onto her knees for a better look.

And I just hold them between us, gauging her expression as she delicately touches them, feeling my abs clench painfully at how fucking gentle she’s always been.

It actually makes me breathe out a laugh and then Sunday’s smiling shyly up at me.

And then I’m dropping the dog-tags back into the drawer and hauling her body against mine, the heat from my chest instantly searing into her as I run my palms up and down her back.

“I’m sorry, I’m a little sentimental,” she rasps, casting another side-long look toward the chain in the drawer.

But I just hold her closer and dip my free hand back in the cabinet, roaming around at the back until I find what it is that I’m looking for.

And as soon as I hold them up for her it takes her about seven seconds of blinking before her jaw finally drops.

And then her eyes are flashing to mine, shock and awe flaming in her irises.

“You kept them?” she gasps.

“Yeah, I kept them,” I murmur, letting her gently thumb through the small stack of letters, all from my first year of deployment, when Sunday had written to me pretty much every single month. Back when she’d considered the idea of us keeping in touch, even though she knew that she couldn’t be with me romantically while I was serving.

But by the end of the year we both knew that it was too painful, having this long-distance friendship where Sunday was still concerned every single day. Everything was still too fresh for her to consider being with a guy in the military.

And while I’m not sentimental about most things, I cherished those letters for almost two fucking decades.

I ease them gently out of her hands, dropping them back into the drawer beside the tags and closing it, and then I’m kissing her slowly as I heave my body onto the mattress, reachingbehind my back to work off her heels without my tongue ever leaving her mouth.

Each of her pretty stilettos fall to the sheets as I pull them off, and I push them to the floor as I range my quads between her thighs. The wooden bedframe creaks beneath my weight as I settle myself up onto my haunches, and I pull her skimpy panties down her thighs, breathing hard when she’s finally bare.

I rub my palms around her thighs and then reach over to grab a condom, tearing it open and rolling it on before tossing the wrapper and pulling the sheet around us.

I prop one elbow beside her cheek, my biceps bulging as I settle my weight on it, and then I’m kissing her slowly as she holds me closer, my heart beating fast as she strokes my pecs.

“Jason,” she whispers, that pretty blush still staining her cheeks, and the bed groans louder as I shift my quads, ranging myself into position so that I can thrust inside of her.

“Spread your legs, baby,” I rumble, rasping my stubble up her throat, and then my chest heaves as I get myself into position, pushing slowly and bottoming out.

“Jason,” she whimpers, and I envelop her hip with my palm, pumping again.

“Sweetheart,” I rumble against her, biting back a growl as the headboard hits the wall.

The wooden bedframe creaks as it takes our weight, and I steel my jaw as I thrust again, unable to stop myself from caressing her waist as I roll my hips, my breathing heavy. And then my large palms roam down to her butt cheeks, gripping them firm when I pump harder.

She pants breathlessly, her nails digging into my shoulders, and I grunt hard before crushing my mouth down on hers.

“It’s so thick,” she whispers up to me, and I drop my head to her temple, groaning quietly. The bed creaks faster, theheadboard thumping the wall, and I roam my palm up her back, holding her tighter.

“Baby,” I rumble, pistoning hard as she starts to whimper, and then I’m shoving my hand above the pillow so that she doesn’t hit her head off the board. The frame rebounds off the wall, making the bed jerk as I keep going.

“Fuck,” I rasp. “Gonna need to nail the bedframe to the floor.”

“Oh my God,” Sunday whimpers, and I groan as I thrust again, her soft body driving me crazy as I pump faster between her thighs.

“Jason, I’m there,” she pants breathlessly, and I all but growl as I lose myself inside of her, clutching her tight against my abdomen as she squeezes my biceps, letting go.

“Jason,” she whimpers, and my breathing comes heavier, my shoulders swelling.

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