By Honor Bound (11 page)

“I don’t see any reason why you can’t go to a chaperoned school dance.”

“And the beach afterward.”

“Not on your life, girl,” Abe replied.

“But, Daddy!”

“Don’t but Daddy me. He can take you to the dance, he can take you to the movies after school, but he’s not taking you to any beach in the middle of the night.”

“Mama?” Polly turned her frustrated gaze to Angela.

“I agree the beach at that time of night is no place for you. If Dave wants to come back here after the dance, that’s fine.”

Polly sighed, making a disgusted face before going to clean up Blayne and the puppy.

With the last burger finally flipped, Abe placed two on a plate, loaded them with mustard and piccalilli, and motioned for Angela to step inside with him. Their guests were busy eating and playing horseshoes, so the couple decided to sneak a private moment.

Angela followed Abe to their bedroom where he closed the door.

“Umm,” Angela took a bite of her burger. “Delicious.”

“That’s what I say.” Abe removed the chef’s hat and apron and stretched, the hard muscles in his torso tightening in a way that made Angela’s mouth go dry. At forty-two years old and after eight years of marriage, he still made her pulse race and her clit tingle.

“Do you think we were too hard on Polly?”

“Nope.”

“Is that a father speaking, or a rational, impartial observer?”

“That’s a man who remembers being a boy trying to get some girl to go to the beach at night.”

Angela grinned. “I suppose I can’t argue with that.”

“I can think of things I’d much rather do than argue.” Abe took the burger from her hand and tossed it alongside his in the dish. He placed the food on the dresser, grasped her waist, and pressed her body close to his.

 “You know you are the most gorgeous woman.”

“Abe, I am not! I got pudgy after Blayne was born and never quite lost it.”

“You’re sexy as hell and a whole lot hotter, darlin’.” His mouth hovered over hers as he grasped her buttocks in both hands and squeezed.

Angela’s heart fluttered as she gazed up at him and looped her arms around his neck.

“Abraham Marley Forbes, are you going to stand in here kissing me while we have a backyard full of guests?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Well you better go ahead and do it before one of them decides to come looking for us.”

“With my luck it’ll be your father.”

“He can’t say anything now. We’ve been married eight years.”

“Somehow I think he’d still find something to say.”

Angela’s giggle was silenced by Abe’s kiss. His moist lips moved tenderly against hers before his tongue parted them. He tasted and explored every inch of her mouth while his hands roamed over her soft curves.

One thing both of them learned from each other, nothing tasted as sweet as true love.

The End

About the Kate Hill

A lifelong fan of action and romance, Kate Hill likes heroes with a touch of something wicked and wild. Her short fiction and poetry have appeared in publications both on and off the Internet. When she’s not working on her books, Kate enjoys dancing, martial arts, and researching vampires and Viking history.

Website: http://www.kate-hill.com

Email: [email protected]

Kate Hill welcomes mail from readers. You can write to her c/o Ellora’s Cave Publishing at 1337 Commerce Drive, #13, Stow, Ohio 44224.

Also by Kate Hill:

The Blood Doctor

Captive Stallion

Darkness Therein

Deep Red

Dream Stallion

Forever Midnight anthology

The Holiday Stalking

In Black

Knights of the Ruby Order 1: Torn

Knights of the Ruby Order 2: Crag

Knights of the Ruby Order 3: Lock

Midnight Desires

Moonlust Privateer

Vampires at Heart

MAJOR PLEASURE

Denise A. Agnew

Dedication

To all the soldiers, sailors and marines in harm’s way.

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Ford Focus: Ford Motor Company

Ford Taurus: Ford Motor Company

Chapter One

Fort Carson, Colorado

Major Blayne Forbes felt like hell. He also had an attitude to match.

As he drove his small blue Ford Focus onto Fort Carson, an army post near Colorado Springs, his head throbbed and his eyes burned with the need for sleep. He had arrived back from his deployment after more than four months sweating, fighting, and almost dying with his fellow soldiers in the desert. Instead of chilling at his apartment with a cold beer, he’d felt wired and compelled to visit the one person who could put things into perspective. Jumping into the car and heading to the military post would cure what ailed him.

He hoped.

After countless hours in a military transport aircraft with less than first class jump seats and then another flight in cramped coach quarters, his patience had worn thin. Rigors of deployment didn’t bother him. Except for this last time. The battle had been hell, the situation gruesome, and the pain extraordinary.

Most of all, the reason why he’d been sent back to Fort Carson instead of fighting with his men irked him no end.

His hands gripped the steering wheel too tight, and his stomach lurched with sudden nausea.
Get a grip, Forbes. This isn’t the way a Forbes reacts to adversity. Punch through it. What would Dad think if he could see you now?

Dad wouldn’t think any less of him. His father had never given him anything but respect and support, even when he’d made some decisions in his life that hadn’t rubbed Dad quite the right way. Like joining Special Forces.

An ache rolled through Blayne’s healing body. Maybe Dad had been right all along. Perhaps Special Forces had done more than given him pride and purpose—it had drained his soul and his energy until he had nothing left to offer. Blayne didn’t quite believe Dad in that respect. After all, Dad had met and married Mom. And he knew for a fact his warm, caring mother wouldn’t have married a man who had nothing to give. He always admired his parents’ marriage, even if he didn’t think he’d ever find the right woman for him.

Damn, a cold beer, a warm bed, and a hot woman might help what ails me.

Right now none of these things was an option. Beer would probably make the lingering effects of his illness worse, and he needed to vent more than take a woman to bed.

Talking to his buddy Graham Teagan would put his head on straight and his sight on the goal. He could pretend he needed a few things at the exchange and the commissary, and in reality he did. The refrigerator was empty. Plus, he needed shaving cream.

He pulled into the parking area near the building where Graham worked and got out of his car. Winter intruded on the area this October, and although the day sparkled with brilliant sun, a thick line of snow clouds already drifted over Pikes Peak and threatened a significant snowstorm later in the day.

He stepped out of the car and cold frosted his breath. As he headed toward the renovated offices, his head throbbed harder. He’d pick up a bottle of aspirin, too. Just before he reached the entrance the door swung open and out walked Graham’s sister, Jemma Teagan. He couldn’t repress a grin. Every time he saw her, his gonads did a full stop and double take.

Scratch that.

This time he did more than a double take—his cock stood at full attention. Didn’t matter he felt crappy, the heat poured straight into his loins and demanded attention. Seeing her sweet face, sparkling eyes, and heart-stopping smile did crazy things to him that would cure any illness on the spot. He swallowed and reined the animal reaction into submission with difficulty. It wasn’t like he could march right up to her and say,
Let me fuck you until I get it out of my system
. In fact, he wouldn’t think of saying anything remotely like this to Jemma.

Not if he wanted to live.

Graham would kill him if he knew erotic thoughts about Jemma bounced through Blayne’s head every time she came within viewing distance. Blayne had wrestled with his attraction to her more than once, and he could bludgeon his physical interest into acquiescence if he tried.

Pfft. Right, asshole.

Who was he kidding? He wanted her under him, on top of him, any way he could get her as long as he could part her thighs and slide deep inside her wet, tight heat. At the same time, he knew he couldn’t screw her without becoming a little too interested in more than her body. She was his best friend’s little sister and a damn fine woman.

That was half the problem. The last thing in the world he would do is hurt her. Plus, Graham was extremely protective of his baby sister, almost too protective as far as Blayne could tell. Blayne couldn’t afford to become involved with a woman who let her family dictate her social life.

So he shoved aside thoughts of making it with her, regardless of how much his body craved her.

Think of the battlefield. That should do the trick.

When she turned and caught his gaze, her brilliant grin wiped thoughts of death and destruction straight out of his head and launched him into full-on, raw sexual need. Battle often left a residue, a powerful need to connect, that he sometimes satiated with a willing woman. He’d never given into sexual need with Jemma, but right now it sounded damn good. She looked so fuckin’ cute.

Sun caught the red highlights in her straight, waist-length light auburn hair. She stood in the doorway dressed for winter with a black beret hat and long black wool coat. He wanted to call out a greeting. Instead he felt a wave of dizziness.

Hell, this isn’t good at all.

Jemma saw the big man walking toward her with confident strides. Her heart leapt in surprise and happiness, then thundered with excitement.

She couldn’t restrain how her breath quickened and her body hummed whenever she saw him. It didn’t matter that months of separation parted them, or that he traveled the world keeping freedom, hope, and democracy intact. No, she responded to him with unadulterated pleasure and a full-on lust she couldn’t control.

Then reality intruded. What was Blayne doing home? She almost called out to him in greeting, until she saw his slight limp and the tired expression on his face. Pale, with five o’clock shadow and a haunted look in his eye, he didn’t appear like the tough, indomitable soldier she’d known for almost two years. He caught sight of her and his trademark sultry smile started, then came to a dead stop. His mouth opened but instead of greeting her, he put one hand out to prop against the doorframe.

“Damn,” he muttered as his eyelids started to flutter.

Worried, she reached up to cup his face in one hand. “Blayne, are you all right?”

The dazed look in his eyes retreated. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

With instincts honed by years of growing up with brothers who didn’t see the doctor unless their parents hogtied them, she shifted her touch to his forehead. “You’re feverish. What’s wrong?”

He blinked as if someone had just told him he’d jumped out of a plane without a parachute. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m good.”

A little surprised by his gruff tone, she withdrew her hand. His stubble-roughened jaw scratched against her palm, and though he looked tired, he could still make the molecules in her body come to a standstill and take notice. No doubt about it, in her personal dictionary under the word hunk, the description said Blayne Forbes. From the first time Graham introduced them, she had a gut-level reaction to the man. Blayne’s unique combination of gallantry combined with a dangerous edge intrigued her. So did the soulful, sexually charged nuance in his thickly lashed dark eyes. A short, military cut restrained the curls in his lustrous, thick ash-colored hair. His somewhat crooked nose and strong jaw line added to the craggy image. His incredible, conditioned body spelled sin. In the recipe book of life under delicious there should be a picture of Major Blayne William Forbes.

For too long, steamy, sexy dreams of being with him haunted her. It didn’t help he looked delicious enough to eat.

Swirling heat filled her loins and mixed with her extreme pleasure at seeing him.
God, the man is gorgeous
.

Today he wore a black leather bomber jacket, thick red turtleneck sweater, and butt- loving jeans showcasing his long, muscular legs. But it didn’t matter what he wore because every time she saw him, her libido caught on fire whether she liked it or not.

More often not.

After all, getting involved with a footloose, rough-and-tumble Special Forces officer didn’t define her idea of safe and secure. He had a risky job. Chances are one of these days he’d come back from a mission in a flag-draped coffin.

Right now, though, he looked anything but tough and it worried her.

He kept his hand on the doorjamb. “Sorry, Sweets. It’s been a long day.”

Sweets.
Only Blayne could get away with calling her something like that. And she’d been too damn chicken to ask him why he’d pinned her with the nickname not long after they’d met. He never said it in an insulting manner, but always in a warm, teasing tone.

“I didn’t know you were coming home,” she said. “I figured Graham would have mentioned that your unit was back.”

A grim, almost sarcastic smile spread over his face. “Graham may not have heard. I’m back alone.”

“Why?”

Clutching at the doorjamb, he shrugged those mile-wide shoulders. “Long story.”

Her eyes narrowed as she frowned. “I saw you limping. Is that why you’re back?”

His mouth thinned, his gaze sharpening. “Among other things. Is Graham here?”

“I stopped by to see if he wanted to go out to lunch, but he apparently ran out to do some errands.”