Chapter Five
H e ruined me .
One kiss, one touch, one speech—the fucking bastard ruined me.
Years of my life to my useless ex and his bullshit promises of empty words, and a Marine sergeant comes along and makes a complete mockery of that time in the span of a few hours.
I hated him.
And I wanted him.
I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anything, and that not only scared the shit out of me, it made me angrier than I’d ever been. Never in my life had I felt so utterly lost. Not because I hadn’t loved, lived and taken chances, not because I’d lost my mother and feared losing my brother, but because I suddenly had a taste of what life could be, or rather what it should be, and I was livid.
At him.
At fate.
At life.
What the fuck was I supposed to do with that kiss? Or his speech?
Store it away for two years and live pretending my entire world hadn’t just been wrecked by an inked-up motherfucker who kissed like the devil and put thoughts of grandeur in my head?
Jesus .
I needed to get off his goddamn lap before his bigger-than-life dick pressed between my legs again and made me beg.
Grasping for dignity I no longer felt I had, I pushed back and stood. “Nice speech.”
“It wasn’t a speech,” he corrected, in his infuriatingly deep and calm voice that belied every tattoo inked on his perfect fucking skin. “It was intent.”
“Good for you,” I clipped, sounding as pathetic as I felt standing there in front of him because I couldn’t make myself walk away knowing full well that when I did, I wouldn’t see him again for two years, if at all.
Then because I couldn’t stop the gushing wound of despair eating me alive, I threw undeserved ugliness at him. “Find someone else to buy into that bullshit, because I already had years of useless words and empty promises. That isn’t intent. Actions are intent, and it doesn’t matter anyway, because I live in the here and now.”
“Two years,” he quietly reaffirmed. “Then I’m coming for you, sweetheart.”
The term of endearment crossing his sexy lips, as if he meant every word, as if I was the most important thing in the world to him, it sent me over the edge, breaking what was left of my battered ego.
I turned to go, and motherfucking Sam was standing in the hallway.
His gaze cut from Preston to me. Then he spoke in a lethally quiet tone. “He touch you without asking?”
Drunk, raw, angry, hurt—I lost it. “Jesus fucking Christ.” I grabbed my sweater off the back of a kitchen stool. “I’ve had it with both of you.” I shoved one arm in. “No, I’ve had it with all three of you.” I cursed my brother for bringing them home and shoved my other arm through my sweater, yanking it around my stomach like it was the reason for every ounce of suck in my life. “Go home, go away, go fuck with someone else, or go back to base because I’ve had it with every single Marine to ever walk the motherfucking face of the earth.” I stormed out the front door.
Barefoot and stupid, I rushed across the splintery porch and jogged down the broken steps. Middle of the night, dark as shit, I aimed for the backyard because it was the best I fucking had in that moment.
I wasn’t a nursing student. I wasn’t some asshole cheater’s ex-girlfriend. I wasn’t a sister waiting for her brother to return home from war. I wasn’t a girl who desperately wanted a Marine she’d just met.
I was anger.
No, I was lying to myself.
I was fear.
I was so fucking afraid of losing more shit in my life that anxiety was stealing my breath.
All I did was lose shit.
My dad before I could remember him, my mom, my boyfriend, my brother going back to war. All of that added to the giant pile of shit emotions swirling around the fact that I wanted a goddamn Marine who’d kissed me once to swoop down and save me from the suck that was my life, but he wouldn’t even kiss me a second time.
Fuck his scruples and his words.
Fuck everything .
And fuck the stupid fucking gravel walkway hurting my bare feet because I didn’t have any goddamn shoes on.
Losing my shit, wet grass squishing under my feet, I stomped around the side of the house and made it to the old playhouse at the far corner of the yard before I realized ugly tears were dripping down my face.
I angrily swiped at them.
“Hey, hey, sh. Come here.” Sam Rollins came out of nowhere and pulled me into his arms.
I flinched.
“Sh, sh, it’s okay.”
“Nothing’s okay,” I cried, stiffening at the unfamiliar feel of him.
“Hey, that’s not true. Moon’s out and we’re breathing. Some things are exactly okay. Come on, no crying on my watch.” His huge arms surrounded me, and he stroked my back.
A pathetic sob escaped. Why hadn’t another Marine come after me?
I cried harder.
“Sh, sh,” he soothed. “It’s okay. I got you, baby. Don’t cry.”
“I’m not fucking crying.” I was sobbing. Pathetically.
He chuckled. “Right, sweetness, and I’m not jonesing to kiss the fuck out of you.”
“Christ.” I choked on a sob, but I didn’t pull away from him. “Is there a single fucking subtle bone in your body?”
“No.” His chest rumbled with laughter, then he teased me. “And you’ve got a mouth like your brother.” His huge hand, rough and overwhelming and nothing like Preston’s, smoothed over my hair and down my back.
His touch was every shade of wrong, but I was weak and angry and self-righteous, and I didn’t push him away. “Genetics. But I’m better-looking, so I get away with it.”
“That you are.” He pulled back enough to smile at me, and our eyes met in the moonlight.
I didn’t know how it happened.
Sam Rollins’s mouth was on mine.
Then my arms gripped the back his neck for an anchor and we were kissing.
We were more than kissing.
Alcohol and wounded-pride fueled need crawled up my body, and I crawled up him.
His hands everywhere, his groans penetrating, he reached down my pajama shorts.
God help me, I let him.
Rushed and graceless, he sank a finger inside my wetness that was for another man.
“Shit, sweetness.” He shoved his thick tongue deeper into my mouth as a second finger entered my core. Then he pulled back and finger fucked me without apology. “Goddamn,” he growled. “You’re so wet. Give me a green light, babe. Please give me a green light.”
Desperate to quiet the anxiety drowning me, frantic to feel anything other than what I was feeling, I opened my mouth. “Green light.”
It was as if I unleashed a shitstorm.
My back hit my childhood play structure. His hand left my pussy. He yanked his zipper down. I grabbed his shoulders. He grabbed my thighs.
Then he shoved into me.
Bare.
Sam Rollins fucked me.