Heat of Passion
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There it was, that desperation again. And yet again, he didn’t care. Instead, he started to thrust, plunging his c**k into her as hard as he could, as fast as he could. There was no stopping this. Whatever this was. A sexual hurricane. A moment of crazy, blind, uncontrollable lust. He f**ked her against the wall, rough and wild, and she loved every minute of it.
“Yes, oh God, yes.”
Her soft cries, mingled in with dirty commands and breathy moans, drove him out of his mind. He dug his fingers into her ass, pumping in and out of that sweet, sopping-wet paradise, unable to slow down, not even for a second.
“More,” she said between moans, rocking hard against him.
He bent down and shoved his tongue in her mouth, kissing her senseless while he continued thrusting into her as deep as he could go. Her lips trembled beneath his, her fingers curled around his neck, and when he angled her body so that his c**k brushed over her clit each time he withdrew, she gave a wild cry and exploded against him.
Her orgasm was too much for him. The way her pu**y clamped around his cock, her sexy moans, the sheer bliss in her green eyes—he toppled right over the edge with her, coming so hard his balls burned with the agonizing force of the pleasure. His breath came out ragged, his heart pounding so hard he could hear nothing but the sound it made as it thudded against his ribcage.
They stayed there for a moment, leaning against the wall, breathing hard, their bodies joined together, until finally she slid off him without a word.
Carson swallowed, unable to comprehend what had happened. He’d just had the best sex of his life, in a supply closet of a nightclub, with a woman he’d known for all of five minutes. What the hell was up with that?
He reached down and removed the condom from his still aching erection, watching as Jessica bent to pick up her panties. She quickly put them on, smoothed out the front of her skirt and reached up to run her shaky hands through her dark hair.
“So…” he began then trailed off, unsure of what to say.
She gazed up at him with a strange little smile, her green eyes flickering with dazed pleasure and what looked like a touch of uncertainty.
“Thank you,” she finally said.
And before he could tell her she had absolutely nothing to thank him for—hell, he should be thanking her—she unlocked the door and walked right out of the supply closet.
He stared at the door, stupefied. What the hell just happened?
One Month Later
Although he truly hated weddings, Carson had to admit that Garrett and Shelby had done a pretty good job with theirs. The altar had been set up only a few yards from the shoreline of Coronado Beach, white roses twining around the little structure’s intricate cedar frame. The bride looked like an angel sent from heaven, her blonde hair a halo illuminated by the setting sun. The groom wore his pristine Navy dress whites, and the happy couple only had eyes for each other as the preacher spoke in an easy, jovial tone that added some liveliness to the ceremony.
Carson wondered if the preacher would still feel jovial if he knew the best man had slept with the bride. While the groom watched.
Probably not a tidbit he should mention at the reception, he decided as he smothered a grin and handed the silver wedding band to Garrett.
Garrett accepted the ring with visibly trembling fingers and Carson tried not to raise a brow. He’d never seen his best friend’s hands shake. Ever. The two men had been part of the same SEAL team for four years now, and in the life of a Navy SEAL, shaky hands usually equaled instant death. Good thing Garrett was steadier with a weapon than he was with a wedding ring.
“I, John, take you, Shelby…”
Shit, how was it possible that his best friend was getting married? Garrett had proposed to Shelby months ago, they’d been planning the wedding for ages, yet it hadn’t seemed real to Carson until just now. And the realization brought with it a wave of unease. He and Garrett had always been the ultimate bachelors. Whenever they weren’t on assignment, they’d painted the town every color known to man. Scored with numerous chicks. Engaged in some wild threesomes.
Who’d he do that with now?
And did he even want to?
Ever since that night at the Hot Zone, he’d been wondering if maybe it was time to say goodbye to the casual lifestyle. And he had the mysterious Jessica to thank for that, of course. She’d left him in that closet, harder than ever, and wondering if he’d dreamed it all—something he still wasn’t entirely sure of, seeing as he’d searched the entire nightclub for her and come up empty-handed. At first he’d been upset to discover she was really gone, but after a while he’d grown angry. At himself.
When had he become such a sleaze? It was one thing to have casual affairs with women he knew, but to f**k a complete stranger in a supply closet? When had he become that guy, the one who didn’t care about anything but sticking his dick in the first available pu**y?
The encounter had forced him to take a good look at himself, and his lifestyle. And now, watching Garrett and Shelby exchange their vows with such unadulterated love in their eyes, he suspected it might really be time to retire from the random sex scene and look for something more meaningful. He was twenty-nine years old, for Christ’s sake. Wasn’t it time to grow up? Have a relationship that lasted more than five minutes in the closet of a nightclub?
“I, Shelby, take you, John, to be my lawfully wedded husband…”