One Week with the Marine (Love on Location) Read online

  It was true. Right before he’d boarded the flight to head back stateside, he’d sat down and looked long and hard at his life. He was nearly thirty now, and it was time to put some things in order—what he wanted, what his parents wanted, what Avery wanted.

  Too bad none of those things lined up.

  So, sitting in an airport terminal, he’d pulled out his laptop, cleared his mind, and thought about what he wanted in the next ten years. He’d even set an image of the list as his background picture, just for quick reference.

  The Ten-Year Plan:

  1. Marry someone I love.

  A simple, straightforward goal that would have been easy enough to commit to, if it weren’t for one fact—he’d only ever been interested in one woman, and that woman happened to be Avery Forrester, the world’s most elusive bachelorette.

  2. Have a child or two.

  The idea of Avery having a child was…well, terrifying to be perfectly honest. Between her photography career and his military pay, nannies and cooks were definitely not an option, either.

  3. Go on two more tours.

  Avery was always silent about this. His parents, less so. The more tours he did, the better his chances were of getting more promotions and ultimately becoming the senator or Pentagon official they’d always dreamed he’d become. It wasn’t a bad dream, either. It was stable, dependable work that mattered. And in the end? That was all he really wanted to do.

  4. Retire from the military.

  This would make everyone happy. Avery would see him. He’d move up in his career just like his father had. And Holden? He wasn’t sure how that might feel. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, either.

  Shaking his head, Holden pulled up Avery’s social media profile page as he considered his list again. He hadn’t technically told Avery about his plan, least of all her involvement in it. Their arrangement had been established so neither of them had to commit, after all. But after so many years, the terms of their agreement had to change—God knew everything else had.

  He wasn’t in college, studying to be an officer anymore. She wasn’t traveling the world, taking photos of far-off countries and selling them to low-rate travel journals anymore, either. They were both professional adults, and their arrangement ought to reflect that, too.

  But growing up and facing commitment? That had never been Avery’s strong suit.

  He scrolled down the page to see the posts she’d made this month. Just like Avery herself, they were erratic and memorable. In a photo posted the week before, she was posing beside a police officer with his hat on her head and her tongue sticking out for the camera. In another, she and her friend Myla were laying on the beach at sunset, both with cocktails in their hands. Then, in a third photo, she was side-by-side with a tall, muscular man, and she was on her tiptoes, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

  Holden swallowed. This, too, wasn’t so unusual for Avery’s feed. Her Instagram and Snapchat were regularly filled with the flavor-of-the-week guys she kept around. After the latest post—complete with her wearing a fireman’s hat—he’d chosen to unfollow her altogether.

  Tightening his jaw, he clicked to the next post. Her last update was from two days ago—a photo of the cat he’d gotten for her on his last visit. He smiled at the little gray ball of fluff, remembering how much its green eyes had reminded him of Avery’s when he’d first seen it. And then his smile broadened as he remembered Avery’s reaction when he’d brought the cat back to her apartment.

  “A cat?” She blinked, then moved toward the carrier. It hissed at her, and she took a step back.

  Holden nodded. “I rescued him. At the shelter, they said he was found in an alley outside a shoe store. Seemed like the perfect pet for you.”

  “Because he’s a stray?” She smiled, her full lips tilting thoughtfully.

  “No, because he’s a tough nut to crack. But if you give him some space…” Holden opened the carrier, and the cat stalked out, walking a little figure eight around Avery’s ankles before finally rubbing his cheek against her foot and then rolling over to show her his belly.

  “He’s just a little softy,” Holden finished, and he watched as she leaned down to rub the cat’s stomach.

  There was a long silence as she petted the cat, considering him. “What should I call him?”

  “Up to you,” Holden answered.

  “Hmm…” She scratched behind the animal’s ears. “He looks like a Rodrigo.”

  “Rodrigo it is.”

  Ever since then, she and Rodrigo had been inseparable. When she sent letters to him while he was away on tour, she even occasionally enclosed photos of the cat. It was the only thing he’d ever seen her look at that way—with full, warm softness behind her eyes. With love. With vulnerability.

  He didn’t know how many times he’d thought of that moment. Maybe a thousand. Even with all the times he’d had her naked in his arms, even with all the times he’d felt her lips—and more—against his skin, there was something about that moment that always stuck with him. That made him wish he’d taken her in his arms and forced her to promise she’d stay with him. Then at least he wouldn’t have spent his nights wondering what he’d do when he saw her again, and when exactly that might be.

  His computer pinged and the message screen blinked red until Holden finally clicked on it.

  Tom Morris: Does Avery know about these plans?

  Holden Morris: Not yet, but I’m not worried. I’ve thought everything out carefully.

  Tom Morris: Well, whatever you’ve got planned, be prepared to make some alterations. I just got off the phone with Mom and she’s on the warpath.

  Holden Morris: What about?

  Tom Morris: She thinks you should have stayed in Maryland and had “that woman” come back home to see you. She’s threatening to go there and see you herself.

  Holden Morris: She’s bluffing. You know how she gets.

  Tom Morris: That I do.

  Holden closed his computer and stared at the seat in front of him.

  Right now, he didn’t have time to worry about his mother’s empty threats. The only thing on his mind was wooing Avery Forrester. Once he’d finished knocking down all the carefully constructed walls around her heart, he’d prove that he was the man for her. No more friends with benefits. No more relationship of convenience.

  She was part of his plan, and he was going to make sure she knew it—commitment and all.

  FROM THE DIARY OF AVERY FORRESTER

  This is stupid.

  I mean, if I was going to have thoughts about my life, why would I have to write them down? What is this even supposed to accomplish?

  Okay. So. All I have to do is write to get Myla off my back. Easy. Where to start?

  I rented a car for today. Not so much because I needed one—my truck works fine. But I want to greet Holden memorably, if you know what I mean. Which, of course, you do not because you are a piece of paper.

  But anyway. Yeah, I rigged the car so that it looks like my old one, and once we have a proper hello (AKA boink session) inside, I’m going to tell him it’s a stranger’s car. How hilarious is that?

  Or maybe it’s stupid. Is it stupid? It is a lot of work to put in for a joke, but then…well, he sort of expects me to be this wild, crazy person I was when we were younger. I remember one time after a pep rally in high school, I set off fireworks all around the perimeter of the school, and he didn’t stop talking about it for weeks afterward. He’d grin at me and tell his friends how kick-ass I was.

  I don’t think he knew, back then, what that meant to me. To almost everyone, I was the girl whose clothes never matched and who couldn’t manage to keep herself out of trouble. The girl who was friends with the quiet nerd. The weirdo.

  Not that I ever cared. It was just nice, you know, to find someone who didn’t automatically think of me that way. Who thought I was different, and not in a way that made him never want to speak to me again.

  Oh, or there was this other time when his pare
nts grounded him for going to my house and lying about it. So, when he was locked in his room, I shimmied up the tree to his bedroom and brought us a picnic, complete with peach schnapps.

  Damn, did he get in trouble for that. When his mother walked in and found us on the floor, wasted off liqueur…well, I’m pretty sure that was the day her blond curls turned white for good.

  Okay. Well, now I’m laughing. By myself. In a rented car. While an old lady stares at me from the passenger side of the next car over.

  See? I knew this journal thing was stupid.

  Chapter Three

  Avery stood in the middle of the terminal, wearing an oversize trench coat. Underneath, there was nothing but an American-flag-style string bikini wrapped around her frame. It was beyond freezing in the air-conditioned hall, and she pulled the coat tighter together. In her hands, she held a sign that read:

  captain morris, report for booty

  She could hardly wait to see Holden’s face. And she wasn’t disappointed.

  Holden’s sandy hair was short, still shorn in its typical military cut, but the rest of him was different, too. This tour had made him even leaner than she remembered, and beneath his Bruce Springsteen T-shirt, she could just make out the cut of his abs, the fine chiseled detail of his chest. It was enough to make her want to lick her lips and sigh.

  Apparently, the feeling was mutual, because he’d stopped dead in his tracks, swallowed hard, and stalked toward her, his dark eyes gleaming with something between hunger and longing. He pulled her to him for a deep kiss.

  “Where did you park?” His voice was deeper than she’d remembered. Huskier, too.

  “The car garage,” she said.

  And they were off. He grabbed her hand without another word, dragging her along behind. They moved so quickly that she counted her lucky stars for all her practice running in stilettos. Silently, she thanked her sorority sisters for teaching her the important things in life.

  “I can hardly wait to see what you’ve got on underneath that coat. You look great. Did I mention that?” He was practically pulling her arm out of its socket as he led her through the dark, dingy parking garage, his backpack still slung over one arm.

  “Not yet.”

  “Well, you do.” Finally, he halted as she stopped in front of a red Honda Civic. “Jesus, this car is tiny.”

  He dropped his backpack in the front seat, and then opened the door for her. She scuttled into the back with him clambering after her, as if he was afraid she would escape. Slamming the door behind him, he began undressing, tossing his cap and coat on the front seats of the car.

  “It’s a shame for you to do something like that.”

  “What’s that?” His brows knit together, somehow making his jawline look even stronger. She made a mental note to confuse him more often.

  “Well.” She bent toward him and unzipped his fly. “I love a man in uniform.”

  “I know.”

  “Is that why you’re saluting me?” She pulled down his pants to reveal his enormous length.

  Without waiting for him to respond, she wrapped her mouth around him, swirling her tongue over his tip as he leaned back, slamming his broad, muscled back against the window.

  He groaned, gripping her shoulders, and ripping the coat off of her. She plunged farther down, taking him deep into her throat. Distracted as she was, she couldn’t help but stare at his body as she went. Whenever he came to visit, he was even hotter than the time before.

  His abs were contoured, the V that acted as a neon sign to the grand prize he was packing in his pants was more defined. Even his buzz cut seemed to complement his angular features better than ever.

  Taking off his clothes was like a never-ending Cracker Jack prize. It got better every time she opened the box.

  “You feel so damn good,” he rasped, and she cupped the inside of his thighs, kneading his flesh with her palms. Gently, she flicked her tongue around his base before raising it to tease his head again.

  He clutched at her hair, weaving his fingers into her locks, loosening and tightening his grip as she traveled up and down his member.

  He growled low in his throat and it spurred her on, working his length faster and faster until he quaked beneath her touch. That was the sexiest thing, when he made that noise like he needed to have her that instant. No sound in the world could compare.

  “Oh, I’ve missed you.” He reached behind her neck and pulled at her bikini string. The cool air pricked at her warm skin as her breasts tumbled out, and he fondled the swell of her chest before pinching her stiff nipples between his thumb and forefinger.

  She worked him quicker still, but he pushed her back and her lips slid from him, revealing his hard cock. The space between her thighs rushed with need, and she squeezed them together, hoping to quell the ache.

  “I’ve missed this.” She leaned toward him again, nibbling the inside of his thighs, but he grasped her shoulders and guided her until her back connected with the passenger-side door. His fingers trailed down her torso, making quick work of the tiny strings on her bikini bottoms.

  When he reached her knees, he pushed them apart with a command that made her heart skip, revealing the wet space between her thighs practically begging him to fulfill her want.

  She was entirely exposed, and she couldn’t have cared less.

  He stooped low, his breath hot against her, but refused to meet her skin.

  “Please.” She hated begging, but she couldn’t help herself.

  She needed him.

  With a mischievous grin, he licked from her belly button to her clit and back again. She convulsed at his touch, and he steadied her with his forceful palms, pushing her thighs wider as his tongue traced her folds, plunged deeper, entered her, and then retreated to suck at her tight bud again.

  She moaned, unable to hold back, and he hummed against her, the curve of his smile appearing slightly above the horizon of her view as he lapped her core.

  “Moan again.” It wasn’t a request. The scintillating vibration of his words sent a chill down her spine.

  “Oh God,” she cried, and his tongue dipped inside her again, making her walls spasm with need.

  She leaned back against the car door, allowing him full view of her breasts, and his pupils dilated as he took her in. His commanding gaze as he pleasured her was enough to make her come all on its own—so hungry, so demanding.

  “That’s it, you’re so hot,” he mumbled against her.

  “Please,” she breathed.

  She wouldn’t need to ask him twice. There was a pause and a tear of foil, then his fingers dug into her hips as he wrenched her body down, and without another word, he thrust inside her.

  She gasped as his hard length filled her. It had been too long, far too long, since they’d last been together.

  Nothing compared to the feel of his cock, the way her muscles tensed and shuddered as he took command of her body. She dug her fingernails into the plush upholstery of the car and rocked her hips against his as he took her harder, faster.

  “Tight as ever,” he growled, trailing his fingers lower, over her stomach, to focus on her aching clit.

  God, he was like a superhero in the bedroom…or the backseat. Whichever. And the sheer sexiness of him made it hard to know where to focus. But a dark, thin trail of hair led her to the place that made looking anywhere else impossible.

  She watched him sliding in and out of her, his cock glossy with her wetness, his forearms working as he rubbed against her clit. Her body tightened around him to the point of pain, screaming for release.

  “You keep doing that, you’re going to make me come,” he said.

  “Good.” She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him deeper, ground herself against him. The heat of his body pressing against her was electric—her nipples, her walls, the sensitive skin of her breasts all quickening to high alert with every movement.

  His fingers dug into her hips, and he forced her toward him once, twice, and yes, oh
yes, a third time, and every nerve exploded within her, bursting into a power surge. Her toes curled around the lock button of the car, her legs squeezed him in closer, and she came in waves, each pulse of sensation greater than the last.

  “Yes,” she cried, breathless as he joined her in release, working her faster and harder. He closed his eyes as he came in desperate spurts. Finally, he collapsed on top of her, their ragged breathing falling into rhythm with each other.

  “Welcome home.” She brushed a piece of bedraggled hair from her face, willing herself to open her eyes. She almost reached up to brush her fingertips against the grain of his buzzed hair, but before her forearm was halfway through the air, she stopped herself and dropped her hand to the floor again.

  Too intimate.

  He pushed himself up onto his knees, unsheathing himself, and kissed each of her nipples, forcing her sensitive skin to respond with a shiver of recognition.

  “I missed the girls.” He shrugged his clothes back on.

  “Probably better to get acquainted with them later.” She rushed to correct the edge of panic that tinted her voice. When had sex with Holden ever seemed so…personal? Still, she pressed on. “We should probably leave before we get caught.”

  “What do you mean? We’ve had sex in your car a bunch of times. Besides, I don’t think security comes out here too often. Did you lose your sense of adventure while I was away?”

  She gestured to the updated upholstery, the new plastic, the well-vacuumed floor.

  “Does this look like my car to you? No Mardi Gras beads, no old clothes, no bags lying around for no apparent reason. I like you, but nothing is important enough to clean out all that.”

  He chortled, only to be cut off by his dawning realization.

  “So, wait. We just had sex in a complete stranger’s car?”

  “Well, not complete. You can see pictures of their family on the dashboard. They look nice enough.”

  He bolted out of the backseat with his shirt unbuttoned, his pants still unzipped. The only way he would have moved faster was if his ass had literally been on fire.