Page 66 of The Soldier

Thoroughly.

We’re on the same page, I’m sure.

“If I wasn’t injured, I’d pick you up and fuck you.” Marshall sucks my earlobe, as he thumbs my nipple.

I moan, feeling like the most wanton woman in the world. And glad I waxed my ju-ju yesterday.

“I need to wash all this...crap off me.”

“Sand. I can feel it,” I say, letting him know he doesn’t have to hide it.

“You caught me. I was in Hawaii.” He winks.

I nudge him. “Whatever. I’m not stupid.”

Reaching for the soap, Marshall starts lathering but I take over for him. I’m not letting an opportunity to run my hands all over this man’s huge frame. To feel all the ripples of his ab muscles and the hardness of his powerful arms. After this, I won’t get another chance.

“Never said you were stupid, sexy girl.” He takes my hips as I reach around and wash his back.

“You need to spin. You’re too big,” I say against his lips which just nipped at mine.

“You weren’t complaining earlier.”

I shake my head and laugh. “Not your penis, you idiot.”

Said hard appendage presses into my back as he spins and tugs me against him. I wash the rest of him, being as careful as I can with his bandage—which is soaked and will need changing anyway—and attempt to spin him back around.

“Hey. Tree. Turn.”

Marshall slowly turns and, ignoring me calling him a tree, pushes me back into the wall. “I want you to stay.”

I blink.

“No.” I shake my head after a minute. “No. I need to go home.”

“One night, Trina.”

He rarely uses my name. Always calling me his little wolf or darlin’ in that damn sexy drawl.

“Request from a wounded soldier.” He runs his hand down my side, brushing my breasts and then moving between my legs. I expose my neck and he sucks at my flesh, sending pleasure right to my core.

“You play dirty.”

“Darlin’ you haven’t seen anything yet.” Marshall promises and that’s when I decide to stay and find out.

Like I said, I’m not stupid.

––––––––

I FIND MY PANTIES on the floor near the end of the bed and slip into them. Marshall is out cold and I’m almost certain the pain medicine he finally took a few hours ago will keep him that way.

I locate my skirt and blouse, then quickly dress. Then tiptoe downstairs and find my keys next to his duffel bag.

I glance upstairs and hesitate for a moment.

Should I take it upstairs?

No, he doesn’t need my help with his stupid bag. He was manipulating me to get me inside so he could fuck my brains out. Which I am completely fine with for the record.

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