Big Bad Marine Read online

  The thought broke over her like a wave, cold and yet hot at the same time, shocking her, heating her up, making her want to gasp for air and yet drown in the heady glory of it.

  You were going to be good, remember? A responsible adult and all that crap.

  Oh, God, she was. But…this was about West. And her feelings for him. About the fantasies she’d had for years. Fantasies that had the potential to become real if she was brave enough to test her theory.

  Except, his warning had been very clear: he did not want to involve her in any of that. And no wonder. She was his boss’s little sister and he was supposed to protect her not spank the living daylights out of her.

  Heat flooded through her at the thought and she pressed her thighs together, furiously studying the plains outside the car in an effort to get a handle on her physical reactions.

  Crazy. She was downright insane to even consider what she was considering right now, but why not? Why not test it out? See if she was right? And if she was then what if she showed him that she could handle it? Handle him? Because she was sure she could. It was only West, after all, and she trusted him.

  It was worth checking out at least, wasn’t it?

  First though, they needed to find a place to stay, because any plan she did have in that direction wasn’t going to work if they ended up sleeping in the car.

  Rose grabbed her phone from her purse and began the search for some likely-looking motels in the area. “So,” she said into the heavy silence. “Any ideas on where you want to stop for the night?”

  “No.” A muscle leapt in his jaw, the tension in his posture obvious.

  He was pissed, no doubt about it.

  “But you said I could pick the place, right?”

  The line of his jaw got even harder and a shiver went through her. Yeah, she was getting to him, wasn’t she? No doubt it about it.

  “Not until after we hit New Mexico,” he said shortly. “Portales, probably. And make it cheap.”

  “Like there’s going to be a Four Seasons in Portales.”

  “Rose.”

  The warning note in his voice sent a hot prickle of awareness over her skin. Did he sound like that in the bedroom? When he was being in charge?

  So. Hot.

  “Yes?” she asked, breathless. “What?”

  “Don’t.”

  The warning note in his voice had the hot prickle turning into a flame and she couldn’t help herself. “Is that another strike?”

  The sharp, metallic glitter of his gaze was on hers for a second then he glanced back to the road. “I assume you don’t want to go back to Austin?”

  “It was just a question.” She tried to keep her voice neutral, not betray the excitement beating hard and strong inside her. “I wasn’t arguing with you.”

  “You’re walkin’ the line, darlin’ And that’s not a good idea.”

  “Oh? Why not?”

  “You did hear what I said, didn’t you? About punishment?”

  Electricity crackled in her blood. She’d never wanted to push him more than she wanted to push him right now, see where his limits were, find out what would happen if he crossed them. Would it matter that she was Lily’s little sister then? Or would he finally treat her like the woman she was?

  “Are you saying you want to punish me, West?”

  The silence in the car now was so thick she could hardly breathe.

  He’d dropped one hand from the wheel and it was resting on his thigh, and she couldn’t drag her gaze from it. The backs of his fingers were crisscrossed with tiny, white scars. It wasn’t the hand of an office worker, that was for sure. No, his was a hand that did hard, rough work and it showed.

  Would it hurt if he spanked her with that hand?

  He said nothing, staring out at the highway unrolling in front of them, and now her attention had moved on from his hand to the rest of him, to the faded blue denim of his jeans that fit his powerful thighs so perfectly. The black cotton of his T-shirt accentuating the width of his shoulders and the sharply defined muscles of his chest, the color echoing the black ink of the tattoo that wound around his biceps.

  “Find us a motel, little girl.” He sounded as rough and gravelly as the inhospitable landscape outside. “And you’d better not speak again till we get there or else I’m leaving you on the side of the road.”

  Rose swallowed and looked back down at her phone, conscious of only one thing.

  He hadn’t said no.

  5

  The motel Rose had eventually chosen was, indeed, cheap, but West didn’t care. By the time they drove into the parking lot he needed to get out of the car and put some space between them, before he did something he’d regret.

  She’d wanted to come to reception with him, but he’d growled at her to stay put and when he’d gotten out, he’d had to take a few deep breaths of hot, dusty air to clear his lungs of her sweet, honeysuckle scent.

  Not to mention get rid of the anger sitting in his gut.

  Why the fuck hadn’t he said no? Why the fuck hadn’t he told her straight out that he didn’t want to punish her?

  Sure, it would have been a lie, but he would have nipped any potential interest in the bud right there and then. But he hadn’t said no. He’d told her to find them a motel instead.

  Christ, he was a fucking idiot.

  Of course, all of this wouldn’t be a problem if she’d been as decently scared and shocked as she should have been when he’d told her what he liked when it came to the bedroom. And there had indeed been some shock. But not enough.

  As they’d driven on, he’d been hyper-aware of her in a way he hadn’t been before, which had only made him even more furious at himself. Aware that she kept giving him little glances when she thought he wasn’t looking and that she kept shifting in her seat as if uncomfortable. The sound of her breathing had gotten fast and her cheeks had been pink.

  She hadn’t been scared by his confession; she’d been turned on by it.

  You are so screwed.

  West shoved away the thought and stalked over the dusty, gravely parking lot to the motel’s reception.

  The place wasn’t exactly a dive, but it looked like it had been last updated in the eighties, the carpet in a retro shade of salmon, the walls all gray wallpaper with a few lime green accents here and there. A neon pink light in the shape of a flamingo was attached to the wall behind the reception desk, casting a cheerful glow over the greasy teenager bent over an ancient computer.

  The teenager didn’t look up as West approached, his attention fixed on the screen.

  “Hey,” West said, leaning against the desk. “I want to check in. You got a couple of rooms?”

  “No.” The boy kept looking at the screen, apparently uninterested in the fact that he had a customer standing in front of him.

  Not in the mood for this kind of bullshit, West straightened and folded his arms. “What do you mean, ‘no’? And look at me when I’m talking to you, son.”

  The kid gave a theatrical sigh and finally glanced up. “I mean we don’t have rooms free.”

  Christ, he had to be kidding.

  “Seriously?” West looked around at the sad state of the place. “Here?”

  The teenager lifted a shoulder. “Farming convention.”

  Great. This day was just getting better and better.

  “You don’t even have one?”

  Another heavy sigh as if West was really trying his patience. “Hang on.” The kid tapped a few buttons on his computer and peered at the screen. “Yeah, there’s one.”

  Correction. Now it had gotten even better. He was looking at the prospect of being stuck in one room all night with Rose.

  Fuck. No.

  “Thanks,” he said curtly. “But I think we’ll try somewhere else.”

  “You won’t find anywhere else,” the kid replied. “Everywhere’s booked out.”

  Double fuck.

  Tension coiled in West’s shoulders, his jaw so tight he could have crack
ed peach pits with it. “What kind of room is it?” he forced out.

  “Double queen.”

  Could be worse. It could only have one bed.

  Thank God for small mercies.

  “We’ll take it,” he growled.

  Five minutes later, the practicalities taken care of and a key in his pocket, West stalked back out to the car again.

  Rose had the door open, the third act of La Traviata blasting out into the parking lot, Violetta singing mournfully about farewelling her happy dreams. And on any other evening, he might have found the idea of opera in the parking lot of a run-down hotel in New Mexico amusing. But it wasn’t any other evening.

  There was Rose sitting in his car, the rays of the setting sun lighting her curls to blazing gold and shimmering on her clear, lightly tanned skin. And she had her eyes half closed, her mouth moving like she knew the words to the aria, her little feet on the dash tapping to a beat that wasn’t there. And she must have heard his footsteps in the gravel, because her long golden lashes lifted as he approached, her blue eyes glowing with a heat that shouldn’t be there.

  A heat that he’d put there himself.

  “Don’t tell me,” she said. “There’s only one room.”

  He came to a stop. “You’d already checked availability online?”

  “Yep.” She nodded toward the stereo. “You know, this shit isn’t bad once you get used to it.”

  Of course, she’d already checked. And she’d brought them here deliberately. Because she wanted him and she had no fucking idea what she was letting herself in for.

  You need to show her.

  He stilled, the idea washing over him with a certain amount of inevitability.

  He’d started this trip thinking he was going to teach her a few lessons. About professionalism and being part of a team. About actions and consequences. About limits and boundaries.

  But he’d always thought that the lessons he’d be teaching were about her limits and boundaries. He’d never expected to have to teach her about his. And he had them.

  He could control himself. The distance between himself and Ian was still vast. But he knew better than to let someone push him too far and right now, little Miss Rose Hammond was in danger of pushing him straight off a fucking cliff.

  He’d told her what he was, what he liked, and she hadn’t listened to any of his warnings. Which only proved to him that she had no idea what the fuck she was getting into.

  So yeah, maybe he did have to show her. She’d always been a more hands-on learner after all, hadn’t she?

  She was stretched out in the passenger seat, all long slender legs with her small gold toes propped up on the dash, wearing her tight white T-shirt and tight blue jeans. Looking at him as if he wasn’t something to be afraid of.

  Fuck, she had no idea. His own father hadn’t wanted to see him after Carly’s third addiction treatment, and neither had Carly. They both could see the flaws in him so why couldn’t this girl right here?

  Yeah, that left him with only one option. If warnings hadn’t frightened her off, then he was going to have to show her himself.

  “So we’re sharing a room,” he said. “But you knew that already, didn’t you?”

  Her gaze flickered only a little. “Of course I did.”

  “And why, exactly, is that, Rosie?”

  She gave a soft laugh as if he didn’t scare her, which was very, very short-sighted of her. “God, West. I didn’t think you’d be so dumb. You really don't know? I would have thought it would be obvious.”

  The sun was going down, bathing her in light, and it might have been the sunset that was turning her cheeks pink. But he didn’t think it was.

  “Uh huh,” he drawled. “Perhaps you should spell it out for me, darlin’.”

  Rose might have been many things, but a coward wasn’t one of them. And he wasn’t surprised when she took her legs off the dash and swiveled in a graceful movement to get out of the car. Then she stood up and took one long step toward him, her hips swinging, her pretty tits bouncing along with that brilliant golden ponytail. Coming until she was standing right in front of him, wrapping him in her honeysuckle scent and the heat glowing in her big blue eyes.

  “What’s a girl gotta do to show a man she wants him?” Her voice had gone soft and husky. “Maybe…this.” And putting her hands on his chest, she rose up on her tiptoes and kissed him.

  It wasn’t a shock. He’d suspected she’d been intending to do something like this and he hadn’t avoided it, because as much as she wanted to test him, he wanted to test himself. A kiss was something he could easily stop, easily walk away from. A kiss didn’t hurt anyone.

  Yet the burst of desire that lit him up inside as her soft mouth pressed to his, hit him like a brick to the head all the same. It was intense, hot, making him want to grab her and hold her, push his tongue into her mouth, taste the sweetness that he knew was part of her and take some of that for himself. Then he’d shove her up against the car. Her body would be soft, too, and giving against him, and her skin would taste just as sweet as her mouth.

  Fucking wrong, asshole.

  Yeah, it was wrong. But maybe she needed a taste of wrong in order to figure out what was right. AKA not him.

  Her mouth remained on his a moment longer, then she pulled away, confusion in her eyes. Her cheeks were wildly flushed, the fast beat of her pulse at the base of her throat mesmerizing. “West?” There was a note of uncertainty in her voice.

  No, she really didn’t have any idea of what she was doing. She would soon, though.

  West reached into the back pocket of his jeans, pulled out the motel room key and held it in front of her. “Room 217. Go wait there for me.”

  She glanced at the room key, then back at him, the uncertainty deepening in her expression. “What? Why?”

  “You wanted to know what happens when you push me.” He held her wide gaze with his. “So, now you’re going to find out.”

  Rose stared up at him, her heart somewhere in the vicinity of her mouth. She could hardly hear what he was saying, it was beating so loudly. And so fast.

  You wanted to push him and now you have.

  Yes, she had. That’s why she’d kissed him. That’s why she’d directed them to a motel where there was only one room. So she would find out exactly what happened when he punished someone.

  Her, for example.

  Except there was something in his eyes, something hot and dark and utterly compelling. Something that scared her at the same time as it turned her on, making her unable to catch her breath.

  She became aware, suddenly, that she was standing very close to him and that he was towering over her. That he was way more intimidating now she was inches away from him, now that she knew what he was going to do to her, than he’d ever been before.

  In fact, she’d never been intimidated by him, not even the day she’d first met him, after Lily had found out that Rose had gone to visit Mason by herself and something had happened. And even though Rose hadn’t told her sister exactly what Mason had done, Lily had decided enough was enough, dragging Rose into some bar in search of ‘protection’. And they’d found that protection hunched over on a bar stool, scruffy and bearded and muscular.

  She hadn’t wanted Lily to bother, had told her sister that she was fine, but Lily had ignored her, talking to the guy anyway. And the guy had looked up and the instant Rose had met his sharp, gray gaze, she’d had an overwhelming feeling of safety.

  She didn’t feel safe now, though. And that was somehow exciting.

  His powerful body was hotter than asphalt melting under a desert sun and her fingertips felt burned where they’d touched his chest. Her mouth seared from where she’d kissed him. And he didn’t seem as tense or as angry as he had in the car. He just seemed…calm. Which only made her more excited and nervous.

  “Is that supposed to scare me?” she asked, staring up at him. “Because it doesn’t.”

  “Go on,” he said, almost gently, ignoring he
r. “Do as I say.”

  “I guess this is where I have to obey you?” She knew was betraying her nervousness, but she couldn’t help it.

  West said nothing. Only reached for her hand, threading his long, blunt-tipped fingers through hers, the touch sending a wave of the most incredible heat through her. “C’mon. Let’s go.” Then he turned, pulling her gently along with him as he made his way toward the rooms.

  Forcing herself to walk properly, Rose tightened her fingers around his, putting a swing in her step, determined to ignore the unexpectedly vulnerable feeling that had opened up inside her.

  This was what she wanted, wasn’t it? West O’Connor taking her into a motel room to…

  Punish you.

  “So mysterious,” she murmured, as her brain frantically tried to tell her that she had no idea what she was taking on. “I can’t wait to see what all this punishment business is about.”

  West looked over his shoulder at her, one hot, quicksilver glance that stole the breath from her throat and all the words from her head. Telling her very clearly that she had no idea what she was talking about.

  Which, of course, she didn’t, but there was no way she was going to let him know how nervous that made her. Not when he might stop if he knew, and there was no way she wanted him to stop. Not now she was so close to getting what she wanted.

  She kept her gaze on his powerful back as they went up the stairs to the upper level, hoping like hell her palm wasn’t sweaty and that she didn’t sound like a pervert heavy-breathing down the phone.

  As they stopped outside the room, West took the key and unlocked the door, leading her inside.

  It was the usual cheap motel crap, though with an eighties twist. The carpet was a hideous salmon pink, the walls papered with some kind of gray and lime green print. A neon flamingo light flickered above the king sized bed.

  “Sit down,” West ordered with a calm note of authority that made every feminine sense she had sit up and beg.

  “Well, alrighty then.” She tried to sound like she did this all the time and wasn’t at all bothered, but she had a feeling she wasn’t fooling anyone let alone him.