Page 9 of Praise Me: Soldier

“I was…maybe going to,” she says, so quietly I can barely hear her over the hum and rattle of the train. “But my boss decided to drop the bombshell that I would be presenting a campaign to a real-life client on Friday. After that, I was too shocked to feel anything else.”

“Why?”

“I don’t present. I’m a researcher. I’m just a background person.”

“That’s what you think,” I mutter, inhaling against the crown of her head. Sugar cookies. No wonder I want to take a fucking bite out of her. “You seem like the kind of person who does everything to the best of her ability. I can’t see you doing anything but killing the presentation.”

“I can,” she laughs quietly—and that sound travels through me like a sensual stroke. “I can see myself stuttering and panicking and bombing. I’m about as comfortable with public speaking as I am with…men.”

I release her hip in favor of grasping her chin, tilting it up firmly. Perhaps a little rougher than I should, but her eyes glaze over and damn, I think she likes being maneuvered. Put in her place. “That’s the last time you refer to men in the plural sense. You saymanfrom now on. Singular. Meaning me. Say it correctly now.”

It takes her a moment to nod, but she does, whispering, “I’m about as comfortable public speaking as I am with you.”

Satisfaction rumbles through me. “You’re getting more and more comfortable with me, though, are you?”

“Possibly to my own detriment.”

My lips twitch at her dry humor. “Why do you say that?”

“I have no idea what you want from me. Or what you want to do to me.”

The train slows to a stop and more people push into the already overflowing train, forcing me to press her tight, tight, tight into that corner, releasing a silent groan of thanksgiving when her stomach cushions my engorged cock, her palms rising in surprise to flatten against my pecs, her tummy hollowing and lifting against my bulge.

“You’re the only woman who can get me hard or make me come,” I say, my voice thicker than molasses. “I think you know exactly what I want to do to you.”

Her head seems to fall back against her will, her toes lifting so my cock drags up and over her belly button. “The way you speak is so blunt,” she says, a little breathless. “You decide you want something—me, in this case—and you take it. I can’t decide if you’re driven or just entitled.”

“I don’t feel entitled to you, July. I just need to keep feeling like this.”

“Turned on?”

“Like I’m a human being,” I say through my teeth, lifting her between my body and the wall so I can rub my face in the curve of her neck, getting her sugar scent all over me, in my nose, in my head. “When you look at me, I’m no longer some ghost floating around, watching the normal people go about living their lives. It’s like…as soon as you sat down across from me, I materialized. You’re anchoring me back down into the real world, July, and I don’t…if I’m being too forward or too aggressive, it’s only because I can’t be polite about finally breathing again. You force me to breathe, if for no other reason than to go on looking at you.” I suck hard on the side of her neck and groan over the way her thighs tense in response. “I need you, baby. I need you.”

CHAPTERFOUR

July

The train has always beena necessary evil.

It’s loud and crowded and perpetually running late.

I’m never going to look at it the same way again.

Theo has me pinned in the corner on my tiptoes and lord help me, if there was room, I think I might wrap my legs around his waist. Right here on the train.

This, coming from a woman who can barely get the courage to speak to a man.

Before Theo, at least.

As he takes another long, groaning drag of my neck, his hands dragging around to my backside and kneading it like pizza dough, I realize I’m feeling sexy for the first time in my whole entire life. Even sort of…daring. Theo’s frankness when speaking about me and my body and his blatant hunger for it…it’s having an effect.

You’re the only woman who can get me hard or make me come. I think you know exactly what I want to do to you.

Judging by his prolific erection and the way he moans low and animalistic in his throat every time the train rocks him against my belly, I’d say he wants to come home with me. And take me to bed. Post haste.

Am I ready for that?

I didn’t evenknowthis man before lunchtime.

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