Fall Into Love (Simone: Part One Naughty Nookie Series) Read Online Free

can’t be misreading the signals, can I?
    I hope to God I’m not and even though it’s
an inappropriate use, I run through the Lord’s Prayer, hoping that
divine intervention will get me laid tonight. 
    “ What are you thinking
about?”
    My blush gives me away and his chuckle has
me blushing all the harder.   His laugh is light and
carefree, and that’s something I can tell isn’t common for
him.  He’s as brooding in the light as he is in the
darkness.  He looks like a gangster.  All hard muscles
and stubbled jaw with grim eyes that rarely light up… unless
they’re glancing over me.  Then, a strange heat appears, and I
feel as though I can bask in the warmth they emit. 
    “ And I thought you were a
good southern girl.”
    “ Well,
I’m not as good as I ought to be, but in comparison to my friends,
I am,” I admit with a wry grimace.  “ Too good.  It’s about time I
misbehaved.”
    “ Then I’m one lucky
bastard,” he retorts with a twist to his own lips.  “Good
girls always make the best bad girls.”
    “ I’m not sure I get the
logic there.”
    “ When you let go, you’ll
be dynamite. All that pent-up energy has to go
somewhere.”
    The surety in his voice has me
frowning.  I’ve never been dynamite before! I can only hope I
will be now.
    “ I hope I don’t
disappoint.” I totally fail at trying to be light-hearted.  My
attempt at levity sinks to the ground like a sack of
sugar. 
    “ I doubt it, honey. 
I doubt it.”  As he reaches for his coffee, the rolled up
sleeves of his shirt jerk up a little. 
    Spotting a symbol I’ve seen before, I ask,
“Were you a Marine?”
    “ How did you know
that?”
    Reaching over, I trail my finger over the
ink.  It’s half-covered by his shirt, but still, I recognize
it.  “It’s a long time since I’ve seen the symbol, but I’d
know it anywhere.  My grandpa had the exact same ink. 
Not that mother or grandmother approved of it.  He always had
to wear shirts to cover it, but to me, it was proof he was a hero.”
 Without knowing it, my top lip curls.  “The only man
I’ve ever met who deserved the title.”
    I flinch as his finger trails over my
snarled lip and my eyes flicker toward him.  “Most people
aren’t appreciative of what a soldier does.”
    “ That’s why you cover it
up?” I ask, my eyes tracing over the tattoo of the US Marine Corps
logo.  An eagle proudly astride a globe, scored through the
center with a rope-entwined anchor.  It isn’t colored, just
stark black and white.  It suits him and I have the feeling
that there are similar tattoos all over his form. 
    Hardly the usual uniform of a southern gent,
but who said they can’t be modernized?
    “ Sometimes.  Mostly,
I don’t like to remember.”
    “ Where did you
serve?”
    “ Middle
East. First, second and third tour of duty.  That was a long while
back, though.”
    The briskness of his answers gives me a clue
about that brooding quality of his.  Memories can be a real
bitch. 
    How many times did I watch my father slap my
mother for breaking some religious dictate he’d laid down?
    How many times was I careful to watch my
words where my ex was concerned, so he’d never have the excuse to
do the same to me?
    Vicious cycles… and sometimes there’s no
escaping them. 
    “ You finished?” he asks
me, his voice rough. 
    It sickens me that I’ve upset him and once
again, his hand comes up to tug at my lower lip. 
    “ Hey, no biting!” He
grins.  The quick shift in his mood has my heart
seesawing.  “That’s for me to do.  Later on.”
    The promise sets me alight
and I can’t deny I’m relieved.  I hadn’t intended to broach a
mood-killer of a conversation topic.  I’d just seen the tattoo
and been reminded of the only worthy man I’ve ever
met. 
    It’s early days to say that this is a
potential candidate for that role.
    But I have a good gut
feeling going on.
    And God help me, but what a story to tell
our grandkids.