Read Online Soldier's Choice by Morgan Blaze - Free Book Online Page A

said. “It’ll have the whole wall to itself. What do you think?”
    “It’s perfect.” She really did think that. In spite of her raging insecurities—or maybe because of them—she was delighted that he’d want to display her work. Somehow, she could tell he wasn’t just humoring her. He actually liked her paintings. That meant more to her than she could ever explain.
    He smiled. “I’m glad you approve.”
    “Of course. But you know, it already looks great in here,” she said. “You must’ve been busting your ass since you got the place.”
    “Yeah. Unfortunately, I’ve still got a long way to go. You should see the kitchen—it looks like 1960 exploded in it.”
    She couldn’t help laughing. “Sounds amazing. I guess you have to take things one room at a time, though.”
    “Yep. Three down, and…well, I’m not going to count how many to go. If I do, I’ll give up.”
    “Good idea. What do you have done, besides the living room?”
    His eyes widened for an instant. “Um. The basement, and a bedroom.”
    “Oh.” Judging from the way he shifted, the word bedroom had the same effect on him as it did on her. And now would be the time for her to say goodnight and leave…if she wasn’t an idiot set on having her hopes dashed. Again.
    But apparently, she was.
    She went to him. His gaze fastened on her, and he swallowed hard as she rested her hands on his waist. “We started something earlier,” she said. “I want to finish it, and I think you do, too. Am I right?”
    A shudder went through him. “More than anything,” he rasped. “But—”
    “No buts.” She stepped closer, until her body brushed his and set her on fire. “Please don’t say the f-word,” she whispered. “I know that’s the deal, and I’ll honor it. But we can have this, now. No strings attached.”
    He stood still a moment longer with war in his eyes. And finally, he surrendered.
    His hands plunged into her hair, and he ravaged her mouth with a hunger that had her responding in kind, desperate to keep up. She barely noticed his arms going around her until suddenly she was moving without effort, his lips still locked on hers. She clung to him as he carried her down a short, dark hallway into a softly lit bedroom with a massive four-poster bed.
    In the space of a breath, she was lying beneath him. His hands were everywhere—touching her face, stroking an arm, skimming her waist, as if he couldn’t create enough contact to satisfy his desires.
    She knew the feeling.
    Needing to touch him, she tugged at his shirt until he yanked it off with a low growl. He straddled her as her hands explored the hard planes of his chest, the washboard of his stomach. She moved lower, and his breath caught sharply.
    “Wait,” he ground out, grabbing her wrist. “Please.”
    She fought a stab of disappointment. “What’s wrong?”
    “I want more than this.” He pushed her arm back gently, pinning it over her head as his warm weight pressed against her. “I want to touch you. Taste you. Everywhere.”
    The shiver of pleasure that moved through her was almost enough to make her come. “Yes,” she whispered. “I want that.”
    He kissed her, long and languid, and eased back with reluctance. “Undress for me.”
    She sat up and complied slowly, her eyes never leaving his. He devoured her with his heated stare, driving her to the edge of climax without laying a finger on her. Once she’d removed the last stitch of clothing, he straddled her again and guided her back against the pillows. “Stay,” he said softly.
    She nodded, her heart pounding like a drum as his head bent to her throat.
    His lips brushed her skin just above her breastbone. Then his tongue replaced them, and she gasped in delight. He laid a trail of kisses along the hollow of her throat, each one burning hotter than the last. His fingertips slid lightly up her arm to her shoulder, and he gripped her there as he bent lower.
    She cried out when his tongue grazed her