BEAST: A Bad Boy Marine Romance Read Online Free Page B

walking into the room, a reluctant smile hiding the pity on his face.
    “Sergeant Williams, I’m Dr. Evanson. You’re at Walter Reed Medical Hospital. You’ve been in a coma for three months; we didn’t think you’d make it. Congratulations, son, you’re a hero.”
    It was a smile I would get to know intimately, for that same condescending smile would end up gracing the face of every politician asking me to pose for a photo, every active duty Marine praying they wouldn’t end up like me, every woman I propositioned.
    It was a look that said simultaneously “Thank you for your service” and “This poor bastard.”

4
    Isa
    G uilt from my initial reaction to his injuries tormented me.
    At first I was determined not to stare at his face, horrified that he’d be insulted by my reaction. But the second his face came into focus, I held back a sob, and a lump grew in my throat.
    The right side of his face was mangled, taut raw flesh accented with blue and red scars. His jaw was uneven, and his right eyelid slumped, filled with what must’ve been a glass eye. The remnant of his ear was dappled and twisted. But the other half of his face was clean-shaven, handsome and rugged—a bright turquoise eye, strong chin, black hair shorn in a Marine Corps high and tight haircut.
    Flashes filled my brain, stored images I must’ve retained from newsreels and graphic war movies. Had it been a roadside bomb? An outmanned firefight? Some type of chemical attack? I wouldn’t ask him. For now, I was content with the trust he had shown me by unveiling his scars.
    “I guess I should’ve gone to the party as Two-Face,” he said, his voice somber.
    “No, you’re beautiful. You make a sexy Hulk.” I caressed his face, my fingers tracing its divots. “Plus, then you’d be DC, and I’d be Marvel. We would’ve never had a chance.”
    He let out a small laugh, but flinched at my touch. “You’ve seen me now. You’re free to go.”
    This was my chance to end this night safely and in control.
    Or I could get wild—do what I’d only ever read about in my books.
    Cut loose.
    I’d always admired those women who owned their sexuality, like Marisol. Indulged in pleasure without any guilt or shame. I wondered what it would be like to live in the moment.
    I was picky, but I still had needs, and right now I needed some action—and sadly these days the warm glow from my eReader was about the closest that I felt to having any heat radiating on my body. But even the artificial afterglow of one hot night with my latest romance hero did little to warm my heart. After all, I hadn’t hooked up with a guy since winter break. I missed everything about being around men—their masculine scents, their non-subtle eye fucks, their rough hands. At least my book boyfriends were gorgeous, witty, and incredible lovers—but most importantly, they wanted more from their heroines than just a one-night stand.
    And I was sure this man wasn’t looking for anything more than a hookup.
    Isa, put on your clothes and get the hell out of here. This is not you. You are responsible, conservative, and goal-oriented.
    Faced with the opportunity to indulge in my fantasy of hot, wild sex with a hunky alpha male, I had to admit that the reality of the situation made me realize how rigid I’d always been.
    But somewhere deep in my soul I wanted to lose myself in this damaged man, give him pleasure to alleviate his pain, experience ecstasy and release.
    And maybe he could heal me too.
    The heat between us rose, and I erased the distance between us, like two magnets being drawn together.
    I traced his face with my fingers, running the tips over his lips. Rough, wild, and dangerous. As he remained still, my hands explored his incredible body—rock-hard muscles, deeply embedded scars, and intricate ink. All making him look like the sexiest badass alive.
    He bit his bottom lip, his pupil dilated.
    Hungry.
    Ravenous.
    Intense.
    His chest heaved, and the sight of this raw,