One E-mail: (BBW Romance) (One Soldier Series) (5 page)

I felt my brows furrow the moment she faced me.

She placed a small, soft hand on my forearm as a wistful smile curled her lips. “I like it.”

When I didn’t detect any deceit on her part, I relaxed.
Leaning in, I swept a few strands away from her face before I kissed her. “I like you,” I whispered against her lips.

I felt her smile against me. “
I more than like you, Tay.”

I pulled back, gazing into her glossy browns. “Let’s go inside. The last thing I want to do is take advantage of you in my truck like some overgrown high school boy.”

She giggled, her features practically illuminating. “I love your accent, especially when you talk low and sexy like that.”

She reduced me to a
schoolboy, easily flattered and easily flustered.

I swallowed hard, licking my lips. “Unbuckle,” I ordered.

I slid out of the truck, walked around to the back, grabbed her luggage and purse, throwing the large bag over my shoulder before hefting the bright pink suitcase by its handle, and met her as she jumped out of the passenger side, rigidly bracing herself on the door and side of the truck. I made a mental note to install a step for her. I didn’t want her getting hurt.

The moment she stepped away from the vehicl
e I closed the door behind her.

She
beamed up at me. “Thanks.”

I quirked a brow. “For what part?”

Her smile broadened. She moved into my space, wrapping her arms around my waist and angling her upper body to stare up at me. “All of it. For fighting to protect me and every other citizen in this country, for e-mailing me back that first time and every time after, for paying for my ticket to come here and meet you, for picking me up from the airport, for introducing me to your family, for being a perfect gentleman all evening; for just being you, Tay. You’re an amazing guy.” She pressed her lips to my chest, kissing me through my shirt.

My chest compressed. She did things to me, things she didn’t even know she did. Everything she said and did seemed to rip me open, to destroy any walls I’d attempted to er
ect since our last interaction.

Every soldier had a weakness; she was mine. Around three months into our e-mails, I realized that she was the one thing I would crack for. If I
were ever to be taken hostage, a threat to her safety, to her existence, would break me in a second flat.

I steeled myself, combatting the urge to drop her stuff and take her hard and fast against my truck. Her words directly affected my heart, and her body directly affected my cock.

I released a breath, praying I didn’t lose control with her. Her presence was a temptation, and her sweet words only further tugged at my swiftly dwindling restraint. “As pretty as you are in the moonlight, I much prefer you inside my house, where I can kiss you without my brothers eavesdropping.”

I didn’t doubt
Trent or Tate, if not both, would poke around at some point tonight. I hoped they would be smart enough to wear their protective gear because I was only going to fire one warning shot. For five months an entire ocean and too many countries had separated Maddie and I, and I’d be damned if anyone or anything came between us this weekend.

Chapter Twenty-One

Madelyn

Taylor’s house was small but comfortable on the inside. He strode ahead of me, depositing my luggage by the door and flipping on all of the lights, allowing me to explore it freely. I walked into a cozy entryway with scuffed hardwood floors, a standing coat rack and another one mounted on the wall. The walls were painted a cream color that kept the tight space airy.

I took my time exploring each room, taking in each piece of it. Every wall in the home was the same cream color, yet it didn’t suit every room well. It especially clashed in the kitchen against the mustard yellow counter tops,
lackluster white appliances and dark wood veneer cabinets. Each space was small, as compact as possible, and an inch shy of too small. No pictures hung on the walls, no accessories dotted the space, filling in the open canvases; it was bare-boned and yet retained an inviting feel.

H
is home was the opposite of everything I usually liked in homes. It was tight, outdated and lacked style, yet, I loved it. There was something serene, almost freeing, about it. I wasn’t weighed down by excess here. There were no knick-knacks to dust or throw pillows to fluff regularly. It was a home meant to be enjoyed for its simplicity, and that’s exactly what I liked about it.

I
ran my fingers along the brick of the fireplace, feeling the granulated surface of it, as I turned around in the living room. I found Taylor leaning against the far wall, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. He’d been observing me as I took everything in. I couldn’t read him. He’d retreated behind a mask.

And that’s how I knew he
was uneasy. Whether we admit it or not, our home is a reflection of us. What Taylor’s home told me about him was that he was a simple man. He wasn’t fancy, but he was strong, sturdy, reliable, and would always be a safe haven. He didn’t care about impressing people. He didn’t try to hide who he was. He was a bit old fashioned, a bit outdated compared to many, but there was something charming about that.

My apartment in Orlando was very different, yet I found myself drawn to this
space far more. I considered what I would change and was surprised to find it wasn’t much. I would paint like crazy, change the curtains and hang large photos, probably of the farm, on the walls.

I smiled wistfully. I was still in awe of how much I adored this place. I’d never considered moving away from Orlando, from my mother, from my book club friends and all I’d known. Taylor, and his home, had me considering a life outside of them for the first time.
It was so different from all I’d known, yet, nothing had come closer to feeling like home.

I closed the distance between us. “As long as the bathroom isn’t mustard yellow, we should be fine,” I teased.

His face split, his features relaxing. “Robin’s egg blue.”

I shrugged. “I can work with that.” I pursed my lips. “Bedrooms?”

“Two of them are empty, which means you’ll have to share mine.”

I didn’t miss the tiny dip in his brows. He smoothed it out as quickly as it appeared.

I stepped back, meeting his gaze. “Show me.”

He held out his hand towards me. The moment my palm touched his, he
laced his fingers through mine. It felt so natural, a comforting piece of normal.

Across from the dining room was the hallway that led to the rooms. On the right were the guest rooms. On the left was the bathroom and beyond it, the master.

He opened the door, but stepped back, letting me into his private space. I didn’t miss the gesture for what it was: an invitation to know the man behind the tough soldier.

T
he same cream coated the walls, oddly contrasting against the chunky pine furniture. The navy coverings weren’t helping. The room needed rich, chocolate walls, a large framed photo above the bed, and nothing but white material and accessories. It’s all about making what you have look great.

My gaze dropped to the floor. I now saw that the s
cuffed wood flooring was continuous throughout the home, and while most would say it needed to be re-done, I enjoyed the character it added to every room. Those imperfect wood planks assured me this home was loved, despite its lack of personal touches.

In truth, t
his home fit a soldier who was rarely here, but it could also fit a growing family anxious to make memories. The land around it made expansion a possibility without compromising the quaint charm of the house.

Spinn
ing around, back towards Tay, I couldn’t help but beam at him. I loved it. My soul seemed to warm with affirmation: I loved this home and its owner.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Madelyn

Taylor took a long step towards me. He tugged me against the hard bulk of him as he captured my lips. His hands molded to me aggressively, as if he couldn’t get enough of me, as if he’d held back as long as he could but his control had finally snapped; his tongue tasted me thoroughly, sending heat surging through me. He gripped my ass, lifting me into his erection.

I found myself clinging to him, wantonly arching and rubbing against him. He brought out my inner vixen. He assured me I was beautiful and made me want to share my beauty with him as I indulge
d in his.

Suddenly, he pulled back
, breathing heavily. His muscles rolled and flexed beneath his shirt.

I licked my lips, openly staring at him. I didn’t bother hiding the fact that I wanted him. My heart raced, encouraging my body to give in.

Gently, he removed my glasses. I blinked rapidly, waiting for my eyes to adjust. I watched as he walked to the nightstand and set my glasses down carefully. I could no longer see the finer details of him, but I would be able to feel them.

He was back to me in seconds.
He swept his fingertips gently along the line I knew my glasses often left imprinted on the bridge of my nose, trailing them down my cheeks and further down to my neck. His touch lightened, barely grazing my flesh, yet still leaving a trail of tingles.

“I want you naked in ten second
s,” he commanded; his voice was the opposite of his touch.

My breath hitched.

One rapid heartbeat. Two. Three. Four.

“Eight seconds,” he growled.

I started, jumping into action. I fought my sandal straps and kicked the shoes away before peeling off my shirt and bra at once. I fumbled with the button on my jeans and didn’t bother with the zipper before yanking them off with my panties simultaneously.

My eyes widened when I straightened.
Shit.
I was naked in front of a fully clothed, hotter-than-any-book-boyfriend soldier. I cringed, averting my gaze.

It wasn’t that I didn’t love myself, because I did. I’d long ago made peace with my curves and accepted my excess for what it was: more to love.

No. This was a knee-jerk reaction. Even when we don’t mean to, we often hold our breath before big news is delivered. This was no different.

He crooked a finger beneath my chin, just as he’d done hours before, lifting my face up to him. “I like what I see, beautiful.”

The way he spoke the words effortlessly, with a blend of conviction and appreciation, nearly undid me. I blinked, feeling the prickles of salty tears in the basins of my eyes. The last thing I wanted to do was cry. I bit my lower lip hard, distracting myself.

He moved away and stripped. His gaze never left mine. He held me in place, assured me even from a distance.
When he returned to me, he didn’t hesitate to pull me against him.

Flesh to flesh, heat to heat, was far more intimate. I felt every cord of him, every ounce of tension strumming through him.

My breasts swelled against him as anticipation mounted. Just being skin to skin ignited this need within me for more. It made me worry that I would never get enough of him. Everything about Taylor enticed me, made me want to drop to my knees and beg for more.

He claimed my lips again. This time his hands sought my breasts, teasing my nipples into stiff peaks, causing liquid desire to gather at my apex
as pleasure scorched my chest.

I flattened my hands over his abs, feeling every groove,
every hill and every valley; a thin trail of hair ran down the center and disappeared at his chest. I rubbed my palms over his flat discs, feeling them pebble. I flicked them gingerly, hyperaware of their sensitivity, based on my own.

He hissed, nipping my bottom lip as he rocked his erection into my stomach.

Abruptly, he pulled me away from the door and kicked it shut. He blindly led us towards the bed, continuing to kiss me into surrender, one hand at my back, the other working my breast, driving my need higher. He didn’t stop, even when my ass bumped into the side of the bed, not until he was ready, not until I was ready to start begging.

Slowly, he drew back.

I felt slightly dazed. I was already used to his touch, to his command, and I was already lost without it. I blinked a few times, as I looked up at him. I caught the upward curl of his lips before I heard the drawer open.

“Pick one, beautiful.”

My gaze dropped to the drawer. I burst into laughter at the sight of six unopened boxes of condoms. I looked back at him. “Ambitious.” I kissed his chest, closing my hand around his stiff member.

His breath
caught as I slid my hand up and down in a short stroke.

“I like it, but I enjoy surprises more.” With one last jerk of his cock, I released him. “Surprise me, Tay.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Madelyn

He exhaled harshly. He grabbed whatever box his hand happened across first and ripped it open, never losing his focus on me.

I heard the box hit the floor as he held up the line of condoms. Savagely, he tore one off and freed it from the wrapper. Pleasure glided through me. No man had ever seemed so desperate to experience me. The way he spoke in his e-mails was no different from the way he treated me in person: I was always beautiful, and always wanted.