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January

Two years ago

Happy Friday. At six, let yourself in my front door, go straight to my bedroom, and strip off your underwear. Leave them on my pillow and wait beside my bed with your dress lifted so your pussy is exposed. Is that clear?

Haisley reread Nash’s text with a rough sigh as she texted him back.

Yes, Sir.

Wondering exactly what he planned for her tonight got her almost as hot and excited as her certainty that, whatever it was, he’d make it deliciously terrible and drive her to the edge of her sanity until she was a shuddering, pleading mess.

Sometimes she had to pinch herself. In bed, Nash was creative, intense, indefatigable, and amazing. She loved every second she spent with him. She melted when he touched her as if nothing and no one else mattered. She felt her heart race when he kissed her until her toes curled. She lost her mind when he took command of her body and turned her inside out. But most of all, she just loved being with him.

Haisley did her best to hide her growing feelings with an occasional cool brushoff or snarky comeback. If he knew how attached to him she’d become, he’d probably classify her as a stage-five clinger and cut her loose.

Sometimes she almost believed he was falling, too, especially when they cuddled on the sofa for a movie marathon, swapped bad jokes, or shared meaningful conversations about family, philosophy, and dreams… Who did all that with a mere hookup? But Nash had never budged on his stance against marriage and children. And she’d broken their cardinal rule.

She’d fallen in love.

Haisley didn’t know what to do. Come clean? Or break it off before he broke her heart?

She did neither. He was only home sporadically between missions, and she’d sworn she would never revolve her life around some man’s. But…she always made herself available to this one. She couldn’t help it. Each time Nash commanded her body, she obeyed, putting off her day of reckoning until some nebulous “later.”

During their very first night together, he’d vowed to ruin her for all other men. She hadn’t believed him. She’d even laughed a little to herself, thinking he was ridiculously overconfident. Nearly a year later, Haisley hated to admit that he’d succeeded.

And she didn’t know what the hell to do.

Shoving down her worries, she grabbed a few things from her apartment, tossed them in a bag, then headed to Nash’s place. As usual, it was on the messy side. No surprise since he blew in and out of town a lot. Now that he was on his way home from his latest op, she brought him a cold six-pack, turned on the heater to ward off the January chill, washed the dishes soaking in his kitchen sink, and tidied up.

At five till six, she scurried back to his bedroom and tugged off her panties, draping them across his pillow as he’d commanded. Her heart raced, even as her brain asked what she was doing. They needed to talk more than they needed to fuck. But her body didn’t care. She’d been a long ten days without Nash, and she was achy and needy for the pleasure he alone could give her. And to give him the affection he would accept from her.

Across the silent apartment, Haisley heard the key fit into the lock. The knob turned. She fluffed her hair, bit her lip, and lifted her skirt as he shut and locked the front door. While his heavy footsteps encroached down the hall, her heart thrummed.

The instant Nash saw her, he dropped his duffel onto the hardwoods, his dark, hungry eyes brushing her lips, caressing her nipples, then fixating on her pussy, which grew wetter with every second he stared. A shiver rippled through her. She needed him so badly…

“Hi, baby. You look beautiful.” He closed the distance between them in two long strides, cupped her nape in his giant palm, and took her lips in a greedy kiss that delved straight into her soul.

She melted into Nash as dark need twisted in her belly and gathered behind her exposed clit. She knew better than to let her skirt fall. He would spank her for that. She might like that…eventually. But right now she’d missed him too much to do anything but obey.

As he pressed another demanding kiss to her lips, he overwhelmed her senses. His scent—a heady blend of hot, masculine musk, danger, and solid man—enveloped her. She breathed him in greedily, savoring the taste of his lips—slightly salty from adrenaline and sweat with an underlying sweetness that made her crave more.

His hands roamed her body with a practiced confidence that sparked her desire. The roughness of his calloused palms contrasting with the silkiness of his fingertips as they trailed over the exposed skin above her blouse made her shudder. As he unfastened the buttons one by one, his featherlight touch descended, igniting her with every sweep.

Haisley whimpered into his mouth. The wet glide of his tongue stroking hers flooded her with desire so sharp it was almost painful. She anchored herself against him, a slave to the dizzying onslaught of sensation and emotion only Nash could heap on her.

This man undid her utterly—mind, body, and soul. With each ragged breath, every erratic thump of her thudding heart, Haisley poured her unspoken love into the all-consuming fire between them she could neither douse nor deny and lost herself in Nash. It was the sweetest torture.

Suddenly, he pulled back and fastened his demanding stare on her. “Did you play with my pussy while I was away?”

“No, Sir,” she breathed.

“But you wanted to, didn’t you?”

She licked her lips. “I ache when you’re gone.”

“I wanted to touch you, too, baby. But I’ll reward your obedience and make your wait worth it.” He dropped to his knees and exhaled against her mound. “What a pretty pussy. I hope you’re hungry, because I sure am. Keep lifting that skirt for me.”