BEAST: A Bad Boy Marine Romance Read Online Free

the room smelling musty, like most guys’ rooms I’d been to, his smelled like lemons and pinecones. It was immaculate. He must’ve either had a maid, which was unlikely, or he was a complete OCD neat freak. The creative slob in me was impressed. I sat nervously on the sofa and he stood in the kitchen, watching me.
    What on earth was I doing? “What’s your name?”
    He just shook his head. Okay, I was in a strange apartment with some psycho, nameless Marine who just had some war flashback. I’d probably end up in a ditch, the subject of a future episode of Dateline . Well, at least my dad would get the opportunity to pitch the story about my disappearance and murder to Vanity Fair —a boost and paycheck he needed for his slumping writing career and mounting bills.
    “Okay, Hulk. Are you okay? Do you want to talk?”
    He didn’t say a word, just opened the refrigerator, and grabbed two beers. He handed me one, then leaned against the granite kitchen island, his hips jutting out, and I couldn’t help but stare at the bulge in his shorts.
    I took a swig of my beer, the bitter taste filling my mouth. Awkward. I didn’t know what to say, but I didn’t want to leave. In addition to my immense attraction to this man, I wanted to know his story. I had to see if his face was as breathtaking as his body.
    I looked at him. “Will you take off your mask for me?”
    He grunted. “Only if you take off your clothes.”
    Whoa. Did he just say that? Who did this guy think he was? With that body, he clearly had no problem getting women to spread their legs for him. Was this his game? Play the damaged vet card to gain sympathy from unsuspecting coeds?
    Not that he needed a ploy. This man was incredibly hot. Hands down the best body I’d ever seen. Like one of those fitness models who graced the covers of my romance novels.
    “No way, Devil Dog.” I gathered my purse and stood up. “Look, I made a mistake. I wanted to make sure you were okay, but you’re clearly fine and all, so I’m going to see myself out. It was nice meeting you.”
    I walked toward the door, but he grabbed my wrist. Before I could protest, he pressed his body against mine, shoving my ass against the black granite countertop. His huge cock pushed against my crotch, and my core ached.
    “Don’t leave.” His voice was deep, sexy, guttural, as his fingers traced my side.
    I was unable to speak, my adrenaline spiking. I could race out of here, slamming the door on any hope of taking this further. Or I could stay and see this night through. Our interaction had started out so promising. He’d given me a rose, seemed to be interested in more than just a hookup, even though he’d asked me to leave the party with him after we just met. Maybe I’d read him wrong and he’d been about to ask me out on a date? It wasn’t his fault that an ill-timed firework ignited and ruined our moment. Why should any connection we might have become a casualty of his pain?
    At the same time, he did seem cocky, which turned me on yet frightened me. He’d clearly had many hookups and knew what to say to get a woman into bed.
    Rebelling against my common sense, I kept my feet planted on his laminate tile floors. He pulled off my wig and wig cap, my hair cascading in my face. His hand undid the zipper of my catsuit and peeled it off my body, kneeling to take off my heels.
    I did nothing to stop him.
    He stood back up and unhooked my bra, his rough hands teasing my nipples. I gasped when his fingers slipped into my black lace panties, which within seconds fell to my ankles.
    He didn’t ask me if it was okay—he acted as if he owned me, which was sexy and scary at the same time. Lust waged a battle with my brain. My body ached to be touched, my head urged me to flee, yet my nerves sensed no danger. I felt strangely safe. Like I could tell him no or leave at any time.
    I stood in front of him, buck naked as he eye-fucked my body. After giving him more than enough time to stare at