“Is that a challenge?” I asked, my voice dropping.
She shot me a raised eyebrow. “No.”
“I have to check into the Warrior Transition Unit and get with the doctors here. And yes…I can most certainly get you naked, and I’m going to. Repeatedly.”
Sure, it was going to be a challenge, since I felt like I’d been put back together by Frankenstein, but getting inside December was my number one priority tonight. Fuck, I was getting hard just thinking about it. I’d willingly pop more than a few stitches if it meant touching her.
“Look.” I pointed to the window. “It’s already dark. Nine p.m. is a perfectly respectable bedtime. I say we go now.”
“Ha!” She laughed, soothing my soul. “I thought you wanted a bath first.”
“I said shower. Men take showers.”
“Giant, gaping thigh wounds take baths with their legs draped outside the tub, manly or not.” She stared me down.
“Get in with me?” I wiggled my eyebrows.
“Oh. My. God. Joshua Walker, you’re incorrigible—and a hot mess. No, I will not get in with you.” She stood up and offered her hand. “But I will soap you up.”
“Deal,” I answered, entirely too quickly because my blood was in my dick and my brain had checked out. All I could think was warm water and Ember’s hands all slippery. Fuck it, I wasn’t waiting. “You know, this is not the hot reunion sex I pictured,” I complained.
“Oh no?” She leaned down to help me up. “What did you picture?”
“Something more along the lines of this.” I grasped her wrist and pulled her down instead, careful that she landed beside me.
“Josh!”
Her mouth formed that perfect little O, and I pounced. I kissed her, thrusting my tongue against hers and angling to kiss her deeper. She leaned into me instantly, and the twinge of pain I felt in my chest was nothing compared to the heaven of having her breasts pressed against me. Hell, kissing her was the perfect painkiller—all-consuming and addictive as any narcotic. But kissing her wasn’t enough.
I tugged on the bottom of her shirt, and she obliged, crossing her arms at the hem and pulling it over her head. My lips trailed across her collarbone and then her neck as my fingers traced her spine until I met the strap of her bra. I snapped my fingers over the closure, and it popped free.
“Josh. Are you sure we should be—” She cut off her own words with a moan as my mouth closed over one perfect nipple. I flicked my tongue over the bud, and she arched, dropping her arms so her bra fell to her lap. I sucked, and her fingernails bit into my scalp.
“Very sure,” I said, blowing across it lightly before laving it again.
Her hips rolled, and I would have grinned, but I was too turned on. I gave the same attention to her other breast, and her whimpers grew into outright moans. She came up on her knees and kissed me, her hands firm on the sides of my face. Every muscle in my body tightened in arousal, the kind that sent stabs of need straight to my stomach.
I grasped her ass and kissed her with every ounce of skill I had, willing her to forget why this could be a bad idea—willing her to lose the self-control that had abandoned me the minute we walked in the door. She melted, pressed up against my side. God, she was perfect in my arms, liquid fire as her mouth made love to mine in a way I couldn’t wait to do with my entire body.
My hand slipped into the waistband of her shorts, past the string—fuck, yes—of her thong, to cup her exquisite ass. A moan tumbled past my lips. “God, baby,” I groaned, running my hand around her toned, soft waist, and fumbling with the button. No time for this shit. “You’re going to have to help me.”
She pulled away, her lips swollen, eyes glazed and half open in want. It was my favorite look on her, and my dick jumped in agreement. “Josh…” The battle between what she desperately wanted and what she thought was best for me warred on her face, clear as day.
“I need you,” I begged shamelessly. “More than anything, December. Let me love you.”
Her breath was shaky as she stood like a goddess between my outstretched legs, all soft curves and lithe limbs. Holy shit, you actually get to touch her. This perfect specimen of woman is yours. Mine. Forever. My thoughts ceased when she locked eyes with me and wiggled her hips, bringing her shorts down her thighs with her thumbs. I held her gaze as long as I could, falling into that sea of blue like I did every time she looked at me. But then her hands drifted back up, her thumbs hooking in to the straps of her very small, very pink thong, and my eyes went to them.
My mouth watered, which was going to turn into drool if I didn’t shut it. “Off.” My voice dropped impossibly low.
A smile ghosted her lips as she teased one strap, then the other, until I was ready to bite her panties off with my fucking teeth. I’d never felt this urgent with her before, this impatient. “December,” I growled. “Now.”
She raised an eyebrow at my tone. “Where’s that famous patience, Walker?”
“On the floor with your fucking shorts.” The need raging through me wasn’t polite. No, it was primal, and if I’d been capable of carrying her over my shoulder, I would have by now. Damn it, just knowing I couldn’t was infuriating. “Baby,” I warned.
She dropped her panties, leaving herself gorgeously bare. Then she placed one knee between my thighs, rubbing right against me, and I lost it. Gripping her hip, I sat up on the couch, and urged her backward until the backs of her knees hit the coffee table. “Sit,” I ordered.