Page 87 of The Soldier

I lift my brow.

“How dare you question me when you had arranged some other girl to meet you here tonight.” She growls and god she’s so pretty I almost can’t breathe.

I take a step closer and her hands falter, almost falling from her hips. When I take another step they drop and press against the wall.

“Marsh,” she mocks.

“That was rude,” I say roughly, palming the wall above her head.

“Whatever.” Her voice is softer, breathless.

“You jealous, darlin’?”

“No. Just proving my point.” Her blue eyes dilate and drift to my lips.

“And you thought the bathroom would be the place to do that?” I brush a strand of hair from her face and lock my gaze to her plump her lips. “Tonight. Right now.”

I want her.

I want all of her. Every damn inch.

“Yes.” All fight has gone and she’s putty in my hands, but because she’s Trina, she adds, “Because I like to get things off my task list.”

I snort.

It’s such a ridiculous thing to say.

“Okay. Job well done. What now?” I move my body in closer, so we’re inches apart. “Should I push you to your knees and pull my aching cock out, or lift you onto the counter and lick your dripping pussy?”

She pushes at my chest, getting nowhere. It’s barely any effort.

“No. We have dates.” She gasps. “That’s not happening.”

Sacha isn’t my date but I’m happy to let her think that if it means getting a reaction out of her. At this point, I’ll take anything.

“I’ll make a deal with you.” I slide my hand down her hip and along the hem of her skirt, then tug it up.

“No,” she whispers.

“If your panties are dry, I’ll let you walk out the door. If they’re wet, then I’m fucking you right here. No arguments.”

I reach Trina’s panties and feel her shudder.

“Marshall. No.”

She’s lying.

I reach her panties and her legs part, giving me full access.

“Good girl,” I rasp. “Such a fucking good dirty girl.”

“This. Is. Not...oh fuck.” Her head tilts back as I press against her clit. I circle it once, then twice, lowering my mouth to the side of her neck.

“My money is on you being soaked, little wolf.”

Then I slide my fingers through her folds and she’s sopping wet.

“Goddamn you,” Trina cries, gripping my upper arms.

---