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  I ripped my mouth from hers and groaned, sliding her hot little body down my front as I dragged in ragged breaths. Before pulling away, I slid my hand down her back and palmed her butt, giving it a squeeze.

  “What was that?” she panted, pressing a hand to her lips and looking up at me.

  The flushed pink color of her cheeks had my cock jerking in my pants.

  “It was a thank you,” I said, not being able to resist squeezing her ass one last time. “You could have left me here and not looked back.”

  She stepped back and swayed on her feet a little. I scooped my arm back around her waist, using her unbalance as an excuse to tow her close again.

  “Careful,” I rumbled, noticing the way her tank top rode up on her belly, leaving my fingers to caress her bare, flat middle.

  It didn’t escape my attention, the little shiver that ran up her back and the goose bumps that raced over her shoulder when I touched her. It made me even more turned on.

  I knew she was affected by me. I could smell her desire. Her need. I had no doubt that if I plunged my fingers down in the sleep shorts she was wearing, I would discover wet panties.

  But it was the other scent that kept me from acting upon the thought.

  I also smelled her apprehension. Turned on or not, Rachel still wasn’t sure about me. “I think you just might have enough supplies to make up a pretty good Christmas breakfast,” I said, gently setting her away from me and pointing at the nearby box.

  She lifted an eyebrow. “You can cook?”

  “I have no clue.” I grinned. “Wanna find out?”

  She laughed. “Well, all right, then, Vance. Let’s see what you got.”

  Between the two of us, we managed to make a big mess and some fairly tasty food. We had bowls of oatmeal with dried fruit and brown sugar. There had been two red apples left in the box so I chopped them up and she sprinkled cinnamon and sugar on them and heated them over the “stove.” When they were finished heating, she sprinkled some granola over the top and divided the apples into two paper cups. While I was cleaning up the mess (turns out I wasn’t a very good cook, but I was good at making a mess), she rummaged around in one of her bags and found a card with a giant green Christmas tree on the front. She set it on the table alongside our food and coffee.

  We laughed and ate, and she talked about some of her past holiday memories. Of course, I didn’t have any, but the conversation was never one-sided because she was so easy to talk to. I wanted to know everything I could about her.

  Something about Rachel made me not care I barely knew who I was. It was like we were in our own little bubble, in a place that was solely mine. Deep down, I knew this was rare, to have something just for me. It made the urgency I felt when I first woke up here seem less like a priority. In fact, the only urgency I was feeling in this moment was the kind that required no clothes.

  “Rachel, do you have a boyfriend?” I asked abruptly, interrupting the story she was telling me about her close-knit family.

  Her words died away and she paused. “No, I don’t.

  “A husband?” I pressed. “Someone waiting for you back home?”

  “There’s no one,” she said low.

  “Oh, there isn’t no one,” I growled, feeling possessiveness heat up my middle.

  “No?” She tilted her head to the side and studied me.

  I shook my head.

  “Then who is there?” she whispered.

  “Me.” The chair fell back when I stood, going around the table and pulling Rachel to her feet. “Tell me you don’t feel the attraction between us,” I told her. “Tell me you didn’t lie over there trying to sleep, unable to because your body was restless from my closeness.”

  She swallowed thickly. I heard it move down her throat. I inhaled deeply, tasting the air, looking for the scent of apprehension.

  It wasn’t there.

  I used my fingers to tilt up her chin and looked down into her wide green eyes. “Tell me right now, Rachel, because if you don’t, I’m going to kiss you again, and this time I’m not going to stop.”

  Her hands were shaking when they fisted the front of my too-small shirt. “I can’t tell you that.”

  A guttural sound ripped from deep in my throat, and I picked her up, thrilled as shit when her legs wrapped around my waist. I carried her a few steps across the room and placed her back up against the wall, pinning her there between it and my body.

  I kissed her fervently, nipping at her lower lip with my teeth and sucking her tongue into my mouth. Her hands delved into the hair at the back of my head and pulled me closer, matching my kiss with a ferocity that fucking thrilled me.

  I reached between us, keeping our mouths tangled together, and ripped the tank top down the middle. The ruined fabric parted ways and fell open to reveal perky, round breasts. Because I refused to stop kissing her, I let my hands tell me what she was like.

  I delved a callused palm beneath the fabric, pushing it away and covering one of her breasts. They weren’t large, but there was enough to enjoy. I kneaded and squeezed the fullness, making her rock against me as we kissed.

  Her nipples were so hard I briefly wondered if it was painful, and it was that thought that finally got me to release her mouth. As she breathed heavily, I made my way down her neck, nipping at the skin and sucking her flesh hard enough that it would leave a mark.

  Good.

  I wanted everyone to know she was mine.

  After I left my mark on her neck, I moved down, gentling my lips and taking her nipple into my mouth. She moaned and threw her head against the wall, arching her back toward me. I treated her tits like a freaking buffet. And I went back for seconds and thirds.

  The reactions I elicited from her as I sucked and licked were nothing short of amazing. The way her thighs gripped my waist and she rocked against me threatened to make me come right there in my pants.

  Finally, she grabbed handfuls of my hair, pulling my head away from her breasts and leaning down to kiss me again. I gathered her close, wanting to feel her perky chest against mine, but there was a problem.

  I was still wearing a shirt.

  Taking Rachel with me, I went to the cot, where I laid her across it and quickly yanked the shirt off my back. Her hands reached for me and I was only too happy to give her what she wanted.

  Her touch was like fire; she burned me to the core. The way her hands glided over my body, exploring and exciting me all at once, made me bury my head in the lone pillow just beside her head as she moved.

  When the tips of her fingers tried to get beneath my waistband, she made a sound more like a plea.

  I pushed up again, quickly stripping off my trousers and my boxers. There was no point in pretending. I was going to be in her tonight. It was only a matter of time.

  Before I covered her with my body again, I pulled off her shorts and panties, tossing them on top of my pants. I bit the inside of my lip, hoping the pain would bring me back from the edge just a little.

  Seeing her naked body completely laid out like this was almost my undoing. I reminded myself that she was little, that I might hurt her if I moved too fast.

  Both her feet fell onto the floor on either side of the cot, making room for me between her thighs. I dropped down onto my knees, still unable to tear away my eyes from the smooth skin that practically begged to be touched. Her pigtails were wild and tangled-looking, and I fucking loved that I was the one who messed them up.

  Rachel sat up, reaching for me, wrapping her hands around my waist and raking her nails across my lower back. I palmed the inside of her thighs, using my thumb to draw lazy circles over the sensitive flesh.

  Her hands traveled around, over my hips, and down to my center. My cock was so hard it practically hurt, and it stood tall, ready to plunge into her silky heat.

  Rachel took me in her hands, stroking me boldly with one hand while the other cupped my balls. I felt my eyes roll back in my head and I moaned. Her finger wiped gently across the very tip of
my hardness and smeared creamy liquid over me.

  I cursed as my body shuddered. Her hand drew away and I looked at her, feeling desperate to have her touch me again.

  Her glittering green eyes caught mine and she pulled up her finger, the one glistening with my precum, and drew it between her lips. I watched as she sucked every last drop of me off her finger.

  Fuck having her touch me again.

  It wouldn’t be enough.

  I came over her, letting my chest rub against hers as her arms wound around my waist. The head of my cock teased her entrance, and I groaned. I wanted to touch her, to taste her, to drag out this exquisite, rare pleasure for as long as I could.

  It was impossible. I had to have her. I had to fill her.

  Now.

  Grabbing onto the top of the cot and gripping the metal frame, I pushed into her with one long, firm stroke.

  Both of us cried out as I filled her. She was tight, so tight that I felt her inner walls stretching out around me, trying to accommodate my size. I tried to hold still, to give her body time to adjust. I truly didn’t want to hurt her.

  Rachel dug her fingernails into my back and moved against me. My dick spamsed inside her. She rocked again, pushing me deeper.

  I felt the muscles in my forearms bulge as I squeezed the metal frame. I rotated my hips, swirling around inside her and making her moan.

  Then I pulled out and plunged back in, spearing her with a hardness even I found impressive. I started to move, thrusting my hips against her as she met me with thrusts of her own.

  We went at each other pretty hard, like the passion between us was so intense we had no other choice. Every time I went really deep, I would feel her inner muscles clench and her nails would dig just a little bit deeper into my back.

  It was clear she liked me all the way in. Gripping the frame above her head once more, I sank in as deep as I possibly could, so deep that I couldn’t even thrust.

  Rachel whispered my name and began gently rocking against me, little mewling sounds drifting through the room.

  I grunted because if she kept rubbing herself against me, I was going to explode right there.

  “Oh, yes,” she whispered, gripping me so she could rock harder against my length. “Right there, Vance.”

  “Take what you want, sweetheart.” I urged, loving the way she squirmed beneath me.

  Her body began to shudder and breath hissed between her lips. The inner muscles of her vagina flexed, tightening up on me and hitting that spot, the one that made me shout.

  Hot seed pumped out of me. I was in so deep and she was clutching me so hard there was no chance of me pulling out. Of course, pulling out in that moment might actually kill me.

  My orgasm went on and on. My body shuddered and convulsed over hers, and she held me close, rocking her hips upward so she could catch every last drop.

  When I could breathe again, I captured her lips in a gentle kiss and brushed the dampened hair away from her face.

  Realizing that I weighed probably at least one hundred pounds more than her, I rolled off, dropping onto the ground and staring up into the darkened ceiling.

  Seconds later, she rolled and her head peered over the edge of the cot, staring down at me. I memorized the lines of her face, the shape of her nose and lips. She was someone I never wanted to forget. Not ever. There wasn’t a bump on the head big enough that could ever make my body forget something like that.

  “I’m not usually this type of girl,” she said, a shy tone in her voice. “In fact, I’ve never had sex with someone I didn’t know.”

  I grinned. “You know just as much about me as I do.”

  She laughed. Then her laugh died away. “What if you’re married?” she whispered.

  “I’m not,” I answered.

  “How can you be sure?” she asked suspiciously.

  I held up my hand and waved it at her. “No ring.”

  Her hair fell over the edge of the cot and dangled toward the floor. I pulled the strand between my fingers and began twirling it around.

  “Are you going to let me make love to you again, Rachel?” I asked. Even though I’d just left her, I already wanted back in.

  “I’m not real sure I would call what we just did making love,” she said, her teeth flashing in a grin. “That was a little animalistic to be called anything but sex.”

  “Did I hurt you?” I said, casting all humor aside. I jerked up, sitting just beside the cot and looking over her with nervous eyes.

  She collapsed back against the pillow and stared up at me. “No, you didn’t hurt me.”

  Her hair fanned out across the pillow, creating a dark cloud around her head. Her cheekbones were on full display from the smile that curved the corners of her mouth. Tentatively, she reached out, brushing her fingertips across the top of my chest. “I liked it.”

  Smug confidence made my chest puff out. Of course she liked it. I was just that good.

  Rachel’s hand still lingered against my skin, and I covered it, pulling her fingers through mine. “We should do it again.” I gave her an innocent smile.

  She laughed; her chest vibrated with the sound and it filled me with this kind of light. It was bright and pure, startling. It was something I hadn’t felt before. It was kind of like the darkest parts of me were being introduced to the sun for the very first time.

  “What happens in the tent stays in the tent?” she asked, giving my fingers a playful squeeze.

  “I won’t tell if you won’t.” I winked.

  Her hand was still resting over my chest and I felt her fingers brush over a raised scar near my collarbone. They came back to brush over it again. “What happened here?” she whispered, turning her head to look at me.

  “I don’t remember.”

  “What’s it feel like to not know about yourself?” she asked.

  “Blank,” I echoed, feeling a little hollow inside. “Like endless white space where a painting used to be.”

  “It sounds lonely,” Rachel murmured.

  “It might be,” I replied. “But I have you.”

  In truth, I wasn’t lonely in the slightest. In fact, I felt this kind of strange relief, like I was somehow getting this colossal break I was never able to have before. It didn’t make sense, but it was how I felt.

  Rachel glanced at the watch she was wearing. “If we hurry, we can make it over to the base. I’m sure they’re having a huge dinner there for the troops.”

  I wasn’t ready to leave here. I wasn’t ready for my time with Rachel to be over.

  “I still haven’t remembered.” I reminded her, reaching for any excuse.

  “I know. It’s okay. Maybe you’ll remember tomorrow.”

  I was starting to ask myself if I would ever remember. If I wanted to. I cleared my throat. “The plane for the States leaves tomorrow, the one you want to be on?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “We could stay here, head over to the base in the morning.” I suggested. Just one night with her. I wanted just one night.

  She debated my proposal, chewing her lip as she thought. I couldn’t help but stare at her. She was beautiful.

  “It’s just one night, Rachel,” I whispered. “Give me one night.”

  “I’d like that,” she answered, shifting a little bit closer to me. Something inside me howled with victory.

  But then a wary, worried expression crossed her face. “You’re feeling okay?” she asked, concerned. “Do you feel like you need medical attention?”

  “The only attention I need right now is yours,” I replied, tugging her arm and pulling her halfway off the cot. I met her the rest of the way and kissed her.

  * * *

  I learned something else about myself. I was insatiable. Like I couldn’t get enough of her. The way she smelled, the way she sighed, the way she curled her toes when I kissed her.

  I paid attention to every little detail about her. It was easy because for this one night, she was completely mine.

 
Rachel wasn’t scared of me anymore; that much became obvious. And it was also obvious she was able to take everything I could dish out. In fact, she seemed to like to give it back.

  She was lying in the center of a thick blanket with the ends tangled around her bare thighs when I went across the room for bottled water.

  We’d abandoned the cot because it just wasn’t big enough for the both of us. I uncapped the water and let it pour down my parched throat, thinking about what Rachel would look like standing in a shower with water cascading over her body.

  Just the thought had my cock hardening all over again. I knew I needed to back off a little, to give her body a break. She was little. I wasn’t. And I’d already been in her three times.

  I finished the water and tossed aside the empty plastic and reached for another one to carry over to Rachel, when I felt her hands snake around my bare middle.

  The water bottle fell onto the floor and I covered her exploring hands with mine. The edge of her teeth sank into one of the muscles in my back, and all thoughts of giving her a break went wherever the hell all my memories were.

  Pulling back, she turned me around and pushed me back against the wall. The button on my trousers was undone, and she slipped her fingers down beneath the waistband and tangled into the short, rough curls there.

  I growled, a primitive sound, and watched her with slit eyes.

  Her free hand grabbed my hip and pulled my pelvis forward, arching me away from the wall, giving herself better access.

  And then she sank down to her knees.

  Because of the way I was leaning, she was the perfect height.

  Her eyes gleamed naughtily when she slipped both her hands into my belt loops and tugged the fabric down away from my hips. My cock sprang out eagerly, and she laughed.

  “You don’t get tired, do you?” she asked, wrapping her hand around my girth and giving it a squeeze. I moaned, my hips jutting out toward her just a little bit more.

  I reached down and took a handful of her hair, loving the way it felt against my palm. “Not when it comes to you, sweetheart,” I drawled.