Page 4

Chapter 4

Constantine

Oranjestad, Aruba - Seventeen Years Ago

I was beginning to think it was preordained that I’d constantly find myself in situations where someone needed saving, and I was genetically hardwired to step forward and help.

“Here we go again,” my buddy said, a warrant officer who always chose to steer clear of my kind of trouble.

He must’ve recognized the look in my eyes and saw where my attention was laser focused. An asshole was bothering a woman, and no one around her was doing anything about it.

“We have a flight to catch tonight.” John could be the voice of reason in my ear all he wanted, but that wouldn’t change anything if this prick didn’t remove his hands from that girl in the next three seconds. And he knew it. “Look, just don’t wind up in jail. Your father will be pissed if he has to bail you out after another fight.”

I side-eyed him, shaking my head. “None of the fights are ever my fault.”

John smirked against the glass as he sipped his Captain Morgan. “Says the guy who started them all.”

“ No. I only step in to help,” I corrected before returning my focus to the problem on the other side of the bar.

That problem was now mine because I’d read the brunette’s stop on her lips, and the guy wasn’t listening.

“Give me a second.” I set down my drink and followed them off the patio and over to the sand. “Let her go.”

The man-child, doubtfully a day over twenty-one, unhanded her.

She pulled her wrist to her chest, rubbing the red mark on her skin. I could feel her curious gaze on me, but I was too focused on the target in front of me.

The idiota stepped forward, lifting his chin. He was three sheets to the wind.

“Go to your room and sleep it off. Never touch a woman like that again.” It was the evening, but the sun was still hovering over the water like a ball of fire, so I put on my sunglasses. “Do you understand me?”

I cocked my head, daring him to speak, to do anything that might result in cracked ribs and a broken nose.

He rolled his eyes for an answer.

“Apologize,” I ordered, and this guy in a Hawaiian shirt— wrong island —looked over at the girl and said something incoherent. Close enough. “Now, what are you supposed to be doing?” I lifted a brow, waiting for his obedience.

“Going to sleep,” he grunted, then backed away.

He was lucky he was so young. That was the only reason I was being so generous and not connecting my right hook with his chin.

I watched him pull another guy away with him, and they made a hasty retreat from the bar. At least he had some sense despite being drunk.

“Thank you,” the woman said.

I gestured for her to head to the bar so she could enjoy her time without some dude manhandling her.

“Would you like to join me? The least I can do is buy you a drink.” She ran a white-painted nail along her collarbone while eye-fucking me in her pink and black bikini.

“You owe me nothing.”

“You sure I can’t?—”

“I’m good, but thank you.” I waited for her to return to the bar, then faced the sea.

After a wild weekend with my friends, I was eager to return to Norfolk and get back to sea. Unlike my best friend, who was a SEAL and currently deployed, I enjoyed being in a submarine. Something was calming about being deep in the ocean, feeling like I was in another world—at least below this one, which was full of assholes.

“You turned her down? Really? Why not play the hero card and get laid?”

John wasn’t a fighter but didn’t mind the other kind of trouble. The kind involving rumpled sheets and sneaking out before dawn.

“I’m good,” I repeated what I’d told the girl.

He slapped my back while joining me to view the water rolling onto the sand as the sunlight spilled down over it. “I’ll never understand you. You’ve got the looks, the accent, and the money. Why not take advantage of it at every turn?”

I glanced at him, lowering my glasses down my nose. “What makes you think I don’t?” I smiled, shoving my Aviators back in place. “Just not in the mood tonight.” I wasn’t sure why exactly. Maybe it was because everyone I had met lately was starting to feel the same. Same look. Same stories. Same everything turning into nameless memories.

“Well, care if I shoot my shot, then?”

“Go for it. Just don’t forget our flight time.” I smiled, then waved John off. After a few more quiet moments of peace, I went to the bar, carefully avoiding John and the other two sailors I was there with.

I rested my forearms on the sticky bar top, rotating my neck from side to side. “Maker’s Mark. Neat.”

“You sure about that?” I slowly turned to the woman at my side, an angel in a sundress.

Literally.

The way the sun was hitting her back, she was glowing.

I held my hand up, signaling to the bartender to hold off on the order. I fixed my slouched position, standing to my full height, and faced the beautiful woman. “And what do you recommend?”

“Hmm.” She rolled her lips inward, eyes on the bottles as if deep in thought. “I think for a man like you, you’d enjoy Legacy Ridge.” She gave me the gift of her full attention again.

I took off my Aviators and hooked them to the front of my polo, needing a clearer view of her eyes, which were the most stunning shade of green I’d ever seen. “A man like me, huh?”

She discreetly pointed at John on the other side of the U-shaped bar, flirting with the woman I’d so-called saved a few minutes earlier.

“Oh.” I shrugged. “You saw that, huh?”

“Maybe.” She smiled, showing her teeth, and what a fucking smile.

Damn.

“So, tell me, oh-wise-one,” I teased, “why that one? What’s special about it?”

She keyed in on a bottle of Legacy Ridge sitting by itself on the top shelf. “Aged for ten years in Kentucky. Hints of toffee, orange peel, a little honey, leather, and oak.”

I waited for her eyes to return to mine before I asked, “And how do you know so much about bourbon? You a fan?”

“I’m actually not much of a drinker.” She raised her glass. “This is lemonade.”

For a non-drinker, she knew an awful lot about whiskey.

“Pretty lame of me since I’m here for my twenty-first birthday party, right?” She’d dodged my question about the bourbon, and I didn’t even care. As long as she kept talking and looking at me, she could discuss the art of war or a prostate exam.

“Well, happy birthday.” Twenty-one felt too young for me, even though I was only twenty-six, but like hell was I walking away from her.

“Thank you.” When she brought the straw between her lips and sucked, my thoughts escalated from innocent to filthy.

How many hours did we have until I had to leave again?

Without hesitation, I ordered two glasses of Legacy Ridge. One for myself and one for Miss Kentucky. Based on her accent, I had to believe she was from there, especially given her bourbon knowledge.

I was about to give her my name and offer her a polite handshake (rather than revealing the dirty thoughts in my head), but she waved me off.

Damn, rejected? My right hand landed on the counter at my side as the bartender slid over the tumblers.

“Sorry.” She lowered her lemonade and tucked her blonde hair behind her ears. “I’d just rather remain, well . . . strangers?”

Strangers with a question mark, huh? Hell, I’d take whatever she’d give me.

“I leave in the morning . . . and I shouldn’t even be here with finals next week. My friends dragged me here with the help of my dad . . . surprise birthday party and all.”

All the nervous pauses made me anxious, and I wasn’t someone to ever feel that way. Jumpy wasn’t an excellent quality when you often found yourself inside enemy lines, being shot at. “Where are your friends? Shouldn’t they be celebrating with you?”

“They ditched me for some hotties. Their words, not mine.”

“What kind of friends abandon you on your birthday?” I grunted, insulted on her behalf.

“The kind that study way too much and have no life like me. So, they needed one fun and wild weekend, and believe me, they deserve it.”

Well then. I lifted the two glasses and offered her one, but she declined as fast as she’d turned down my handshake.

“Whatever choices I make next, I’d rather they be all mine and not alcohol induced.”

“And what choices do you plan on making?” Please say they involve me.

“Ohh, I don’t know.”

She fidgeted with the material of her pale-yellow dress that clung to her curves. I did my best not to lower my gaze to her cleavage, to not wonder if she had on a bra since I could make out her nipples.

So, basically, I did notice.

Everything about her.

I could probably clock her pulse rate without even holding her wrist.

I set aside the second glass to try mine. “Damn. This is fantastic,” I admitted, which earned me a smile from ear to ear.

Do that again.

I swallowed, trying to keep it together as the definition of not-the-same stared back at me. “So, what are you studying? Or is that too non-stranger-y for you to share?”

I was grateful the music had changed to be less Ibiza-like and more relaxed and chill. I needed to hear the lilt in her voice when she talked. To listen to how her tone dipped and ebbed with every perfect, harmonious syllable that came from her luscious lips.

“I think we should stick to things that aren’t personal.” She would bite a hole in her bottom lip if she sank her teeth deeper. “If you want to keep talking to me, that is?”

I knocked back the rest of the bourbon, which should’ve been slowly appreciated, then went for the second glass. I could easily make choices that were all my own, alcohol or not. I had a high tolerance, being both Sicilian and a sailor. And it would be a shame for such a smooth pour to go to waste. “I’d very much like that.”

I paid the tab, and we went to a high-top table at the edge of the bar and spent nearly an hour talking about everything except ourselves. She probably didn’t even think I was American, given I hadn’t quite shaken my accent.

But talk about life’s greatest mysteries and the off-limits subject of politics, religion, and even whether there was an afterlife? That happened.

We were surrounded by music and people partying, and somehow, we wound up having one of the most profound, intimate, and deep conversations I’d had in my life.

The buzzing of my alarm from my phone in my pocket reminded me I had only a few hours before I needed to head to the airport. I wasn’t ready to leave her, though.

“I have a flight later, which means I have another two hours at the most to hang out.”

Her mouth rounded in a little disappointed O. “So, we don’t have much time to continue to not get to know each other.”

“Feel like walking on the beach before I leave?” I was trying damn hard to be a good guy and not ask her to spend my last two hours naked with me instead. “I promise I’m safe.”

“Considering I saw you protect that girl, I believe you’re more than just safe.” A shy smile cut across her lips, and she hopped off her seat and came to my side of the table, offering her hand.

I didn’t hesitate. I stood and took it, warmth spreading up my forearm and into my body when our fingers locked.

She looked down at her feet, turning one delicate ankle back and forth. “Walking on the sand in these shoes isn’t easy. You feel like going somewhere else?”

“And where might that be?”

She glanced at the nearby hotel on the other side of the bar. “My villa? We have a private pool right off our living room. We could sit by it and relax. Watch the sun go down?”

Sure. Relax, all right. I let go of her hand and stepped back, tearing my fingers through my hair. “Listen.” I cleared my throat. “I take it you’re, uh, a good girl.” How did I say this without coming across like an asshole? “I don’t want to corrupt you.” And I will. Ten times over. “I am the strangers-in-the-night kind of guy. That works fine with me.” I was good with one-night stands. “Something tells me you’re?—”

“I’m not. You’re right.” She closed her eyes. “I’m the classic definition of a good girl. Studies too hard. No life. I didn’t even drink for my twenty-first birthday tonight. Nothing about me is wild or reckless. Like nothing-nothing.”

That adorable monologue would have had my buddies dropping to one knee to propose. They’d be ready to drag her to the courthouse and get hitched.

“I just want one night . . . well, two more hours . . . to not be her.” She opened her eyes. God help me with those nervous pauses.

“I don’t know.” I smiled. “I’m kind of digging her .” Would like to know her name. But I could see why that might make it slightly harder when I inevitably walked out of her life.

“Why don’t we just hang out until you have to go, and see what happens?” That was a proposal I could support.

I took her hand and interlaced our fingers.

A few minutes later, we were standing inside her three-bedroom villa, no longer holding hands but quietly staring at one another. She removed her sandals, her chest lifting with soft breaths as she killed me with those green eyes pointed at me. I could easily become obsessed with this woman, and I wasn’t sure how to make sense of that foreign feeling.

“I want to be wild for two more hours, and I want it to be with you.”

The “with you” part stamped hard, hot, and heavy in my mind. She reached for the zipper at the side of her dress, and I was powerless to stop her.

“I’m not very experienced.” Those words hit me even harder.

I reached my hand toward her, that little piece of knowledge raising caution signs in my mind, but she let the dress pool around her ankles anyway.

She was perfection in a nude-colored strapless bra. Cotton panties covered the place I wanted to drop to my knees and worship with my lips and tongue.

I became an immobile block of steel, standing there as if I’d never seen a nearly naked woman before.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not a virgin.”

And I was able to breathe again.

Taking her virginity wouldn’t be happening. I had some morals left. Well, I hoped I did.

“One boyfriend last year. He took it from me, and it was kind of horrible. So were the few other times we did it.” She held on to her biceps, covering her chest, as if embarrassed by her admission. “I didn’t want to do it again. Not until now. Until you.”

Until me? Why me? “You were with the wrong person, that’s all.”

Strangers or not, I wouldn’t be going anywhere until I showed this woman what real lovemaking was like and how it was supposed to feel.

I unhooked my sunglasses from my shirt and set them aside. It was one step, even if a small one, toward removing every barrier between us. “Come here.” I crooked my finger, and she dropped her hands from her arms and approached me.

Drawing a fist beneath her chin, I wasted no time slanting my mouth over hers. When she parted her lips, inviting in my tongue, I groaned and brought my other hand around to her ass and squeezed.

Breathy, maybe even a little dizzy after that kiss, I pulled back and murmured, “That answers that.” I dragged my hand up and over her cheek and into her hair. “Heaven is real, sweetheart. I just tasted it.” And now I really did need to know the name of the angel who seemed capable of showing me the light.

She arched into me, latching on to the sides of my neck. I loved the feel of her short nails biting into my skin. “I know what you’re thinking.”

Little mind reader, are you?

“It’ll make it even harder when we go our separate ways if I know how your name sounds on my tongue. If I hear how mine sounds on yours.”

No one had ever said something so poetically painful to me before. Painful because I was sure she wasn’t wrong. And something told me this wasn’t going to end well for me.

“Name or not,” I rasped, “I’ll never forget you.”

Reaching between our bodies, I slid her panties aside, my fingers gliding against her slick skin. Soaking. Ready.

A rough groan tore from my throat as I palmed her clit, circling slowly, teasing, savoring the way she gasped into my mouth.

I swallowed every moan and trembling sigh as I drove two fingers inside her, curling just right, coaxing her closer to the edge.

She clenched around me, nails digging into my shoulders as I worked her with deliberate strokes.

“More.” The word was a desperate plea against my lips.

That was all it took for me to give her more up against the wall. I knelt before her and held on to her thighs.

Her shyness took over. Her nerves about having my face between her legs caught up with her. The woman was beyond innocent.

After some back-and-forth, I learned I’d be the first to go down on her.

Fuck.

All it took was for her to say, “Kiss me there ,” to set me on fire and send me straight there .

I kept my eyes up on her face so I could witness her reaction the first time I kissed her. When I dragged my tongue along her sex.

She writhed against my mouth, fingers tangling in my hair, guiding. Demanding . Her cries shattered the night as I sucked.

I didn’t stop until she broke apart, coming on my tongue, her body shaking as I wrung every last drop of pleasure from her.

Only then did I rise, pressing kisses up her stomach, her tits, to her mouth—letting her taste herself.

She barely had time to catch her breath before I picked her up, and we made our way to her bedroom.

Shouldering on the light switch, I then carried her over to the bed and set her down.

Condoms on the nightstand. My clothes a memory on the floor next. I then stood by the bed and nearly came undone at the mere sight of her.

Her hair was wild and tousled from my hands. Her green eyes dazed and heavy-lidded. Lips swollen. And her body . . . well, her body was all soft curves, smooth and sun-kissed waiting to be worshipped.

Unable to wait any longer, I joined her. I raced my hands over her curves. Paid close attention to her responses and what she seemed to love the most. I memorized the way she moved, and how she squirmed from pleasure when I let my breath fan across her sex. Her squeals of laughter when I kissed the inside of her thighs and knees freed a few surprising ones from me as well.

Only after the sweet surrender she gave me in those moments did I sit back on my heels and grip my cock, stroking with just enough pressure to pull a ragged breath from my lips— and a gasp from her.

After shielding myself with a condom, I braced myself on top of her, and she guided me to her entrance.

I promised to take my time. To be gentle. And then I pushed inside her.

I gritted my teeth, barely holding on to my control as she took me inch by inch. So. Fucking. Tight. A guttural groan left me as I bottomed out, and she drew me in even more.

I dropped my forehead against hers, struggling to hold still as I let her adjust to my size.

Her hands slid up my arms, over my shoulders, pulling me down until our bodies were flush. Then I went deeper. Harder. Faster.

We lost ourselves in it. In each other.

Her legs locked around my waist, and her nails dragged down my back as I thrust into her over and over again. The sound of skin against skin filling the room.

She moaned against my lips as she came. I followed, coming harder than I ever had in my life. We collapsed together, slick with sweat and totally wrecked. At least, I was.

She’d given me everything, and I gave her the same.

And later, after we had our energy back, we went for a second time. And something inside me snapped when we did.

I think I even left my heart with her as we made love. Not that I had any use for it anyway.

When she drifted off to sleep in my arms, I told myself to leave.

It’s what she wants. My stomach twisted. An unbearable agony followed at the idea of going, but I forced myself to untangle our limbs, get out of bed, and dress.

Leaning down, I set my mouth to her ear and whispered my goodbye.

I pulled the comforter over her and stepped back, staring at her.

I had to report to Norfolk. I had to leave. It’s what she wants. But was this really it?

How was I supposed to spend the best few hours of my entire life with her and walk away without seeing if there was a chance for more between us?

Could a sinner like me have a shot with an angel like her?

Probably not.

But I searched for a pen anyway.

In the living room, near the glass doors leading to the pool, I grabbed the first thing I could find. A purple marker and a napkin would have to do.

I jotted down my number and message, hoping— praying —she’d call.

Tonight was incredible. And that’s putting it mildly. In case you change your mind and want to be more than strangers in the night, you have my number. I hope you call. - C