Chapter 2
two
. . .
FINN
Reagan had stood out like a beacon in the dark, dirty bar. And not only because she wore this tight, short, sexy red dress either, sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the Carhartt pocket tees, dusty Wrangler denim, and array of well-worn work boots.
She was easily the most beautiful woman I’d ever encountered, like an angel in a room full of devils. I’d never seen her before, but I wanted to see a lot more.
“Dibs,” I’d called to my brothers like the complete asshole I was.
But I’d be damned if I didn’t immediately know she was mine, at least for the night.
The moment that “fuck yes” left her lips, I captured her hand in mine and rushed toward the exit, Reagan’s excited laughter following.
When the cool evening air greeted us, I crowded her back against the side of the building, planted my hands on the sides of her head, and stared down at her.
“Damn, you’re pretty.”
Ducking my head, my lips found her throat, that soft spot over her pulse where her shoulder curved up. Reagan tilted her head, giving me better access. The first kiss was soft, chased by a flick of my tongue and a nip of my teeth.
Reagan’s responding sigh was music to my ears.
I worked my way up to her jaw, across her cheek, until my lips hovered right above hers.
Waiting. Silently daring her to take this where we both wanted it to go.
“Do it.”
My mouth crashed to hers, tongue instantly seeking entrance.
She tasted exactly as I thought she would: sweet and perfect, like the small, wild strawberries that grew on my family’s ranch.
The bitter bite of beer and sharp, lingering sting of tequila combined with her signature flavor was addictive as hell.
She was soft and pliant under my touch, plump lips fitting perfectly against mine. We found an easy rhythm, tongues flicking against each other, teeth against lips, biting and pulling. I shifted my pelvis into her, my cock painfully hard against her lower stomach, and I hissed at the pressure.
Reagan reached between us and palmed me, eliciting a groan.
“Let’s go to my room,” she said. “Take care of this.”
Slipping my hand under her dress, I skated my fingers over her panties, encountering her heat and soaked gusset. Her breath hitched.
“And this. Fuck, I want to taste you so badly.”
Reagan shoved lightly at my chest, and through my lust-filled gaze, I studied her. The way the red neon glow from the bar sign cast a sexy spotlight on her.
Lacing our fingers together, Reagan inclined her head. “So my room then?”
“Fuck yes,” I said.
The walk to the lone motel in town was short—barely two blocks—but I couldn’t keep my hands to myself. Tangling my fingers in her hair, pulling her to a stop every few feet so I could indulge in another kiss.
I felt like a teenager again. The urge to touch her, to taste her, was uncontrollable.
The beauty was, she seemed to be as caught up as me.
When we reached the motel, she led me to her door, fumbling in her little clutch in search of the key. I wrapped myself around her, pressing her back to my front and wrapping my palm around her throat, angling her head back.
“Hurry up,” I growled.
Reagan moaned, the sound morphing into a cute little squeak of triumph when she latched onto the key and withdrew it.
Taking it from her hands, I spun her around and slammed her against the door, mouth coming down on hers once again, scooping her into my arms at the same time.
Reagan’s clutch fell to the ground as her legs and arms wound around me.
By feel, I shoved the key in the lock, pushed the door open, then kicked her clutch in.
The heavy wooden door slammed against the wall loud enough to wake the dead—but not with enough force to tear my mouth away from Reagan’s.
All night, I’d been damn near crawling out of my skin, ready to drag her into my lap and take her right there in the middle of the bar.
The casual touches we’d shared had set my skin on fire.
So had the way she’d constantly studied me, as though she didn’t want to look away for too long, worried I might vanish if she did.
I’d been afraid of the same thing.
This connection was undeniable, had struck me straight and true.
“Fuck, Reagan,” I groaned against her skin, shifting my attention from her lips to her cheek, her jaw, the delicate column of her throat. “If I wasn’t already drunk, your kiss would do it.”
“More,” she gasped, echoing my thoughts.
I needed more of everything: more of her skin, her little sounds, her nails in my back.
More of her.
I crossed to the bed in two long strides and tossed her onto it.
Grabbing one boot then the other, I yanked them off and threw them across the room.
“Strip,” I demanded.
Reagan surprised me by rising onto her knees.
I didn’t take her for a woman great at following directions—not based on the way she’d handed Tony his ass earlier.
But her eyes never left mine as she gripped the hem of her dress and slowly dragged it north.
Every fresh inch of exposed skin heated my veins until my blood flamed, sent it all rushing south to my cock, further hardening the already engorged flesh.
It cleared the apex of her thighs and the lacy black underwear covering her cunt, her trim waist and belly button with a pink and gold ring through it. When the bottom curves of her tits appeared—bare—I knew I was a fucking goner.
At last, the dress came free, and she tossed it away.
“My god, you’re beautiful.”
With a grin and flushed cheeks, her thumbs dipped into the waistband of her panties, but I stopped her.
“Keep them on.”
“I thought you wanted a taste,” she teased.
“We’ll get there, baby. We’ve got all night.”
“All night, huh?”
“And I plan to use every single second to unravel you.”
I stepped forward and knelt on the bed, placing my palm gently on her chest and forcing her onto her back.
Crawling up, I straddled her hips and bent, kissing her again, inhaling deeply.
As though I could brand every sensation of this moment on my memory, keeping it with me to carry through endless dark days when West and I went back overseas in a few days.
Mentally, I shook myself. I wouldn’t go there. Not now. The future didn’t exist. Only this moment with her.
My mouth traveled lower. Sealing my lips over the flesh of her neck, I suckled, pulling away with a pop. Satisfied by the red mark left behind, knowing it would still be there tomorrow.
Next, I fixated on her tits, the perfect, perky handful with rosy nipples tightened to points.
Darting my eyes up to hers, I lowered my head and wrapped my mouth around a peak, flicking my tongue against it, swirling it around.
I repeated the process on the other side before sliding lower.
At her sides, Reagan’s hands fisted the sheets.
“You okay?” I asked with a chuckle.
“Don’t stop.”
When I dipped the tip of my tongue into the hollow of her belly button, she arched against me, my name leaving her in a breathy gasp.
I fucking loved how responsive she was. How every inch of her body seemed to be an erogenous zone.
Shifting backward, I dropped to my stomach so I was face to face with her cunt, the tip of my nose nudging her panties right over her clit.
“If you taste as good as you smell, I’m about to be ruined.”
“Never had someone talk so much in bed.”
“You want me to stop?”
“Fuck no.”
Grinning, I brushed my thumb over her mound, and she twitched, her hips arching up, seeking more when I pulled my hand away. I was about to shift the soaked fabric covering her pussy to the side and dive in when she stopped me.
“Hey Finn?”
“Yes?”
Lifting onto her elbows, she looked down at me, her bottom lip stuck between her teeth. She batted her lashes, though her lids were at half-mast, a lust-filled expression that made the feral beast in my chest who loved nothing more than pleasuring a woman roar in satisfaction.
And she hadn’t even come yet.
“Would you mind taking your clothes off, please?”
Her drawl had gotten thicker than it’d been when I first clocked it earlier. The vowels stretched the more we drank, and now they were pure honey.
“Such manners,” I said, rising to stand, my hands going to my belt.
“Well, I am a southern lady, after all.”
Kicking my pants off and whipping my shirt over my head, I returned to her, leaving us similarly clad in only our underwear.
I knelt on the bed and smirked down at her. “My sexy little belle.”
“Nah,” she said, shaking her head, her blonde hair a corona on the ugly paisley comforter beneath her. “You’re the sexy one.”
“I think we can both be sexy.”
“Stand up,” she demanded, and I did as she asked. “Now spin.”
Though confused, I followed that command as well, turning in a slow circle.
When I faced her again, she groaned, throwing her head back.
“Goddesses, your body is unreal.”
“Goddesses?” I asked, brow raised.
“You don’t think I’m going to pray to a man, do you?”
I chuckled. “Fair enough. Now let’s go back to the part about my body being unreal.”
Reagan huffed out a sigh, but her lips twitched in amusement. “What do you do for a living?”
“What do you do?” I retorted.
“Currently, I’m in college,” she answered quickly.
“But my sister and I are starting our own photography business once we graduate next month.” Then she stood on the bed, tall enough that she had to duck to avoid bumping her head on the drop ceiling, and peeled her panties off.
Leaving her completely naked—and me drooling.
Her underwear flew at my face. “Your turn.”
I snapped to attention. “Guess,” I said as I shucked my boxer briefs and crawled back onto the mattress, capturing her by the waist and tackling her backward. The bed groaned and squeaked, leaving no doubt any neighbors we had would know exactly what we were doing in here.
Let ‘em listen. I planned to give them a hell of a show.
She ran her hands up my stomach, my abdominals bunching under her touch, over my chest, and down my arms. Her palms were cool against my overheated skin.
Her fingertips followed the outlines of my tattoos, the mountains and trees on my left arm, the compass, flowers, and map of the world on the other.
“Well, you don’t get muscles like this at a desk job.”
“I work out regularly.”
“I’m sure you do,” she agreed. “But not out of some misplaced sense of vanity.”
“Misplaced?”
“Please.” She rolled her eyes. “You know you’re hot.”
I grinned. “As long as you think so.”
“Your job?” she prompted, not letting me go that easily.
“I’m in the Army.”
I didn’t want to talk about it, so it didn’t make sense to give her more than that, to delve further into the details of what exactly I did on behalf of the United States government.
For starters, ninety-nine percent of my missions were classified, and the parts that weren’t didn’t exactly qualify as pillow talk.
“When do you head back?”
“Three days. West and I only managed to get leave because Lane was elected sheriff.”
“I’m kind of the ideal one-night fling then, aren’t I?”
“What do you mean?”
“There aren’t any strings attached to this. You’re leaving. I live across the country. You won’t have to go back to war worrying about making some woman back home a widow. After tonight, we’ll never see each other again.”
I blinked in surprise. How had she known that was one of my greatest fears?
If something happened to me or West—or, god forbid, both of us—leaving our family behind to mourn us would be one thing.
But I couldn’t, in good conscience, put a woman through that—asking her to wait for me, knowing I might never return.
So why did the thought of never seeing Reagan again fill me with so much dread?
Playing it cool, I said, “Better make the most of it before I go back overseas then.”
“My sexy soldier,” she mused, hands sliding to my shoulders and pulling me close.
“Reporting for duty,” I replied, a breath away from her mouth.
She lifted her head and captured my lips.
The rest of the world faded away as we lost ourselves in each other.