A Candle for a Marine (Always a Marine) (9 page)

Slowly backing away, she fumbled with the lock. It proved hard to get the key in the door when she didn’t want to look away from him. Isaac covered her hand with his and they opened it together then, once inside, he twisted the lock behind them. She dropped her purse and the keys on a nearby table and continued the slow retreat through the house, with him shadowing every step.

He paused in the doorway to her room, sweeping it with a glance. “It’s almost exactly the same.”

Zehava spun in a slow circle, trying to see what he saw. For her, it was the space she’d grown up in, changing with her interests and her age. Sometime in high school, she’d convinced her parents to let her paint it, and a deep red wall offset the pure white of the others. She’d sewn matching curtains for the windows in a home economics class, and the quilt during a project she’d done with her mother and grandmother.

But Isaac’s attention fixed on the hanging artwork, and with shyness bubbling through her, she studied his reaction. The paintings were her personal works, and she shared them with no one. Her mother had seen them, though she kept her comments to herself.

All three were of Isaac, painted from memory.

“I hope you don’t mind,” she murmured when he’d gone silent far too long for her comfort.

He dragged a hand across the top of his head. The military cut had taken away the dark length that used to curl into his eyes, but it better suited the hard man he’d become. While traces of the boy she’d loved so utterly remained in the man before her, he had indisputably matured into much more. “You take my breath away.”

Heat scalded her cheeks until even the roots of her hair had to be blushing. A smile curved her lips and she crooked a finger at him. “Then why are you all the way over there when clearly you need mouth-to-mouth?”

He laughed, caught her to him, and they collided in another dance of liquid heat. Between one heartbeat and the next, a snap gave behind her and she laughed, the feeling of joyous abandon intoxicating. “How do you do that?”

“Trade secret.” He retreated only long enough to flick open the buttons on her shirt. It hit the floor, followed by her bra. Palming one breast, he claimed her mouth again, and she wrapped around him. Some part of her expected to be shy or embarrassed, particularly when her pants loosened and he broke away to sweep them down her legs.

She sat abruptly, the quilt cool on her hot flesh, and he tugged off her shoes, socks, and pants until she’d been left absolutely naked. Isaac, on the other hand, remained fully clothed, and she scowled.

“Shhh.” He pressed a finger to her lips. “I want to see.”

He reached past her to flick on a second, brighter lamp next to the bed. Butterflies ricocheted in her stomach at the force of his gaze. She’d put on some pounds, her hips were fuller, and there were stretch marks on her tummy. As if following her train of thought, he flattened his hand on her abdomen and traced each scar.

Embarrassed, she wanted to shut the light off again. “I know, I….”

“Shhh,” he whispered again. “You’re beautiful. Even more than I remembered.” The reverence in his tone shredded her. He went to his knees, his weight between her thighs, and pressed his lips to her belly with such utter tenderness that tears sparked in her eyes.

“I gained some weight.” She babbled, hyperaware of his touch gliding over her thighs. “And I can’t really wear a bikini anymore.”

He paused and gave her a long, hard stare. “I didn’t like you wearing a bikini anyway.”

The summer between her junior and senior years flashed through her mind. He’d graduated, and she’d had a year to go, and somehow they’d convinced their parents that a trip to South Padre Island was called for. She’d worn a bikini on that trip. Lips twitching, she traced a finger along his cheek. The faint prickle of his stubble rasped her skin. “You didn’t complain in Padre.”

“Nope.” He caught her hand and laid a gentle caress to her palm. “And after seeing it on you once, I didn’t want anyone else to.” And he’d shredded it right off her. They’d never made it out of the hotel room.

She grinned. “You said it was an accident.”

“A very fortunate one.” He stretched up, sliding his hand behind her neck, and kissed her until she forgot why the bikini had ever been important. Exploring her mouth in a long, soul-deep brand, he pressed up against her. His fully dressed body rubbing her exposed skin was deeply erotic, but she tugged at his shirt impatiently.

“Off,” she ordered.

He groaned, withdrawing long enough to rip the shirt over his head and throw it away. Seconds later, she was back in his arms. Trailing a damp path from the corner of her mouth to her chest, he drowned her in sensation. He caught one stiff nipple between his lips and drew on it. Pleasure spiked through her, but he didn’t let up the pressure. He lavished the nipple, alternating between long, drawing sucks and gentle, biting scrapes with his teeth. Transferring his attention to the other, he adored it with the same attention.

And that was exactly what it felt like—him adoring her. His touch was everywhere; he stroked her sides, teased her breasts, and cupped her sex. The tension wound through her until every contact of his skin on hers sizzled and she couldn’t get enough of the long, hot, wet kisses, dueling with his tongue or running her hands up and down his spine. He was all dense, hard, and masculine, and when pleasure no longer exploded rational thought, she promised herself she’d explore every inch of him and see what other changes time had wrought.

Writhing under his relentless assault on her senses, she wasn’t ready for his thumb to skate over her clit. Electricity sizzled up her spine and turned her insides molten, a second caress tumbled her into an orgasm, and he swallowed her cries as she rocked against his hand. She floated for a long moment, cresting on the tide of pleasure. When he abandoned her, she opened her eyes, ready to complain, only to see him stripping away the last of his clothes.

The changes she’d imagined didn’t do him justice. Every part of his body was ripped, from his chest to his abdominals to his thighs. Everywhere—hard, packed muscle.
Wow
.

A slow grin curved Isaac’s mouth, and the sound of foil tearing pulled her gaze down to the length of his jutting erection. Something distinctly feminine coiled beneath the lazy desire shivering under her skin. He settled onto the bed and she rose to meet him, eager to explore, but he teased her thighs wider apart and lined his cock up with her core. Staring into her eyes, he eased inside with one, long, slow, insistent thrust.

Isaac’s groan nearly drowned out her own throaty cry. “You’re so tight.”

He stretched her until she might burst from the fullness of it all, but she wanted all of it. She circled his hips with her legs, trying to give him better access. He retreated, sliding out only to thrust again, and they found a familiar rhythm. Clutching a hand on the back of his head, she pulled him to her for another kiss, riding another pleasurable wave as every stroke of his body brought her to the precipice. The delicious friction tumbled her over again and her inner muscles clamped down on him. Isaac’s body went rigid and he shouted his release. Then she cradled him to her until he collapsed.

Hanukkah passed too swiftly. After their reunion, Isaac spent every available moment coaxing Zehava back into bed. They had so much time to make up for, and so many pleasures to explore. But an impatient clock ticked away…his leave ended in three days, and he’d have to report in. For the first time in years, he had absolutely no desire to do that, and ignoring the deadline would court AWOL charges. Regardless, he wouldn’t ignore it—he had guys depending on him.

On the very last day of Hanukkah, he’d bribed family members into taking care of the community center while he and Zehava escaped back at her house for some alone time that involved getting naked and lounging in bed all afternoon. His mouth twitched when he thought of her initial objections. She clung to him like a vine, her head pillowed on his shoulder, and he didn’t want to be anywhere else.

Ever.

“I can practically hear you thinking,” she murmured, her breath warming his skin.

He rubbed slow circles on her arm. “I thought you were asleep.”

“Hmm, sleep is for the weak. I’m dozing like a contented cat. I don’t want to miss a moment.” She didn’t have to say why with the end of his leave hanging over them.

They’d talked about a lot over the last two days—his time in the Marines, where he served, and some of his experiences in Iraq and Afghanistan. She told him about her plans for the center and her desire to finish a master’s in social work.

Plans.
She has plans
….

“Isaac.” She shifted and rose upright. He loved the wild tumble of her hair falling around her face and the sight of her lips swollen from his kisses—so unabashedly beautiful. “Where are you?”

He didn’t want to leave the stone unturned, not again. “Thinking about what we do next. I’m in the middle of a four-year contract.”

She licked her lips and he followed the path of her tongue with his eyes. “Okay, what does that mean?”

“It means I’m on leave and I have to go back. I’ll probably get deployed again, if not overseas then somewhere else here in the States.” He tightened his arm around her. Need and duty clawed at him. He’d left her once, full of faith and devotion to the goal of becoming a Marine. It had been the right path for him, but beneath that belief was the bitter taint of regret that he hadn’t been there for her when she needed him most. How the hell could he justify leaving her again?

“You don’t know where you’re going?” She studied him, her dark eyes filled with unreadable emotion.

“Not precisely.” His unit had returned from an overseas deployment a few weeks before the holidays. “We’re at Pendleton right now, but that can change to meet whatever needs they have.”

“That’s California, right?”

Running a hand over her hip, he nodded. “Yeah.”

“Well, I hear there are some really nice beaches in California.” It took a moment for the implication in her words to penetrate.

“What?”

“Well, maybe I’m reading too much into this, but if you’re worrying about not seeing me—planes do go both ways, and I can always visit. You know…if you want.” Hesitancy filled her voice and he kissed her.

“I want.” Hell, he wanted a lot more than a visit. “If you marry me, we can get base housing.”

Her mouth opened in a silent
O
and he rushed on, determined to make his case. “You love me. I was an absolute ass for more years than I care to remember, yet you
still
love me. We’re good together.
We
fit. This last week has shown me I’ve been missing a piece of myself—you. I don’t want to miss it anymore. You’ve always wanted to see the world, see other places, and you want to go to school.”

Catching her chin in his hand, he locked his gaze on her eyes—all but willing her to believe him. To choose him. “Being a Marine wife has benefits, including education. You’ve got good people here, and they can take care of the community center. You can train someone or fly out and visit. And hell, if I get deployed overseas, you come home and stay with your mom or my family. In a couple of years, I take my out, and we do whatever we want. I know we have a lot of things to figure out, but…but dammit, I’m not taking no for an answer this time.”

Her eyes took on a dangerous glint and her lips pursed. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” He caressed her cheek. “I want this. I want us. I don’t want to be a few hundred miles away when we can be together. If it were up to me, fine. I’d be here and drive you nuts until you said yes. But I have to report. so you’ll just have to go with me.”

Period. End of story
.

“So you’re telling me I have to go. Isn’t that a little pushy?” The challenge brewing in her tone warned him.

Firming his grip on her hip, he met her gaze evenly. “Damn straight I’m pushing. I don’t know if I was too young or too stupid to know what we had before; we’re different now. We’re adults. I want you. You turn me inside out and get me on a level no one else does. Even when it pisses me off, you get me.” Time to lance the wound once and for all. “I hated that you gave our son up for adoption, but I didn’t hate you or your choice. I hated that you had to make the choice and that I failed to be there for you. I should have been. Even in my blind, pigheaded state, what I wanted was to be there for you and not thousands of miles away. You made the right choice—the choice for him. I will spend the rest of my life trying to make up for punishing you for it.”

Tears rimmed her eyes and one splashed onto his chest. It killed him to see the sadness there.

“Z, I’m sorry, I’m not trying to hurt you again….”
Dammit, why do I keep screwing this up?

She sniffled. “You didn’t hurt me, and that’s the first time you’ve said I made the right choice. That you didn’t hate me for it.”

“Oh, baby, I could never hate you, not for real. I never stopped loving you, even when I was so mad.” Cupping her face in his hands, he pulled her down for a kiss. “I love you so much, it hurts. Forgive me?”

“I forgave you a long time ago, Isaac. I’ve only ever wanted to love you.” The salty and sweet flavor of her kiss stole into his heart, bandaging the last tear their separation had rent. She broke away and rested her forehead against his. “And to have you love me.”

“I loved you like a boy, a stupid, immature little jerk who thought you only belonged to him and that you’d be exactly as I left you when I came home.” A harsh truth to realize about himself, but he was man enough—Marine enough—to recognize it. “Let me love you like a man who knows what duty, devotion, and loyalty really mean. Marry me, Zehava. Be my wife. We can handle anything together.”

Her quiet worried him, but he’d committed to the course. It didn’t matter how many times he had to ask or what he had to do, he would win her again. He was stubborn that way.

“Yes.”

The whispered word was so soft he barely heard it. His gut clenched. “What?”