Always a Marine 21 - Lest Old Marines Be Forgot by Heather Long Page A

look down at her. She fought the urge to cross her arms and hide herself from his view. Time had been kind to her, at least she’d always thought so—her too small breasts didn’t sag, and she didn’t tan regularly—so she was pale. Uncertainty wrestled with desire and she fisted her hands against the coverlet.
    Some of her hesitance must have shown because he stopped with one hand on his tie. “Brenda?”
    Be bold or go home . She could almost hear Amelia’s devilish whisper. No—no more thinking about what Amelia would do or would tell you and no more thoughts about Steve . Brenda had loved him and she’d always love him, but she’d been dragging out the hair shirt of her grief every year to wear like a fashion statement.
    New Year.
    New beginning…the freedom of it all exhilarated her.
    “Why am I the only one who’s naked?” She lifted her brows. “I don’t mean to be awkward, but a gentleman would at least be shirtless by now so I didn’t feel so out of place.”
    In a swift move, he’d swooped down and had her mouth open beneath a fierce kiss that promised a sensuality she’d forgotten could exist. She was still trying to catch her breath when he retreated and began to strip out of his suit.
    Swallowing, she started to slide off the bed, but he stopped her with a quick shake of his head. “You stay right where you are.” He toed off his shoes and nudged them to the side, his socks followed and then his pants along with his boxers—or briefs—she didn’t catch what he wore and—oh, my….
    The man was hard and compact everywhere, and the springy curls dusting his chest were almost pure silver in contrast to the deep bronze of his tan.
    Fit and trim just did not do him justice.
    Soft laughter pulled her gaze away from the length of his erection tapping at his belly to the deep humor in his expression. A humor that did nothing to disguise his blatant sexuality. “You keep staring at me like that and we’re going to be over before we start.”
    “We haven’t started yet?” She’d never been so arch, or open in such a wanton fashion before. Enjoying the freedom of it, she held out her hand in invitation. “I disagree.”
    He paused to pull out his wallet, flipped it open and slid out a couple of condoms. “I only brought two.” Holding them up, he almost sounded apologetic.
    Biting her lip to keep from laughing, Brenda shook her head. “I like the way you think.”
    The locked focus of his attention sizzled over her and, without a shadow of a doubt, the only thing interesting him right then was her. Moistening her lips, she slid over on the bed to make room for him. He stalked her with the grace of a predator and her tummy took another tumbles.
    At the bedside, he reached for the lamp. “On or off?”
    While she admired his dedication to her comfort and the rigid self-control he demonstrated, it was time for both of them to cut loose. “What do you want?”
    Lights off meant he couldn’t see any of her softer bits where her tummy wasn’t as tight or her hips were just a little fuller, or even the not-so-generous lines along her thighs. Yes, she’d always had small boobs, but she’d put on weight over the years and though she’d lost it, her stretch marks gave her away. But it also meant she couldn’t see him and—damn, he had nothing to be ashamed of. He may be retirement age, but she couldn’t recall any man she’d seen recently even half again as young who looked as good as he did.
    “I don’t care about the light,” he answered, then he was on the bed, and wrapping his arms around her, his mouth finding hers. Sighing into the kiss, she let him tumble her onto the sheets. He squeezed the rounded curves of her hips before stroking his very capable fingers along her sides to cup and shape her breasts.
    The calloused warmth of his palms ignited a second wave of heat and whatever happened, it would be wonderful. He kissed a path down her throat to her chest, spending so much time