Read Online Her Marine by Heather Long - Free Book Online Page A

he was concerned, they still hooked people up for sex. Not that he was complaining, it’d been more than a few months for him and the opportunity to spend the evening with some good-looking, willing woman didn’t turn him off. Still, what kind of a woman signed up for something like that?
    Apparently most of the women his friends were crazy for went for a one night stand, so maybe the service was on to something.
    The drive from Allen to downtown Dallas took the better part of an hour with the thick traffic streaming into the city’s nightclub scene. Brody checked his watch twice. The date was set for seven and the last thing he needed to be was late.
    Shannon. Here’s hoping she’s not too pissed about being traded off to a different guy. But then, if she wants sex, well I got that covered .
    He’d been a little suspicious initially about the call, until the Doc explained that Matt was just having a bad day and they’d already cleared it with the service.
    Signing up for a date with the 1Night Stand service was a pact most of his boys made after they returned stateside. Some of the unit struggled with being back in the world. Matt was definitely one of them. To support their brothers in arms, most joined, even those who thought they couldn’t possibly need it like Zach or Doc, or even the Captain. The success rate didn’t ease his skepticism and while he was still in Iraq, he’d shrugged off joining. But he also gave his word that he’d do it when he stood down. Since he had no intentions of going off active until they carried his body off the field, he was set.
    Traffic thinned as he swung the truck into the valet slip at the Sybarite Club. The sexy valet was a surprise, and he couldn’t stop the grin when her perfectly rounded white globes threatened to burst out of the square corset. She palmed his keys and gave him a ticket, and a wink. Maybe if it didn’t work out with Shannon , he could look this tall drink of water up.
    The doorman was tall and evenly built, but his eyes were careful and assessing, his gaze scanning him quickly and efficiently. Brody liked him immediately. The doorman may be dressed for pomp and circumstance, but he served as protector and gatekeeper. Sliding the valet slip into his back pocket, he grabbed his wallet and flipped it to the black card with its silver lettering. Damon had dropped the private invite by with the dinner jacket.
    “Welcome to the Sybarite Club, Lieutenant Essex.” The topcoat and tails handed the card back and opened one of the dark cherry gothic style doors. The woodcuts might have startled him, but Doc had given him a heads up about the Sybarite’s eclectic predilections. The door featured detailed cuts of a man and woman engaged in cunnilingus and fellatio. As the doors parted, each figure was left alone and crying out for the other.
    Damn . Brody stared at the images for a heartbeat or three. The blatant sexuality both titillated and repulsed him. Sex should be hot, wet, primal, and not on public display. Head shaking, he skated a hand over his hair. He missed his cover and it felt odd to be without it.
    On leave . The stern reminder didn’t relax his shoulders or the tingle of anticipation shivering through his gut. Not quite marching inside, he followed the carpeted entryway down four steps into a dark lounge sparkling with a stage show of three women in lacy clothing and impossible positions, while a pulsing musical beat summoned images of tribal music through the blues with a hint of rock and roll.
    Low lighting by way of paper lanterns sat on every table, twisting long shadows from the dancers’ performance. The women bumped, ground, and shimmied their hips in perfect synchronization. As his foot hit the last step, the three women froze, the lights dropped and a spotlight shone on a leggy redhead striding out from behind the curtains. If Jessica Rabbit was a real woman, she’d look like the singer who lifted the microphone to her lips and welcomed