He left her just long enough to get rid of the rest of his clothes, then hers. She raised her arms, silently calling him back, but he took his time. Let his gaze linger on her face, watching her as his hands roamed down her torso, along her hips, stroked up her thighs.
He dipped his head, dragged his lips up her stomach, molded his hands around her breasts.
He slept beside her every night, and still her scent, her taste, made his heart race. There was this physical need for her, but also an emotional one. To touch her, to feel the love in her kiss and know it was also in her heart.
Their love was a miracle that rose higher inside her with every touch. She moaned as his tongue came back to the swell of her breast. He drove her mad with teasing kisses, cupped one breast in his hand while he teased her other nipple through the fabric of her bra. She heard his quiet moan of pleasure merge with her own.
Her hips arched, and her fingers dug into his shoulders, raced over the warm skin over solid muscle. His body was rock solid against hers and her hands caught at his hair, pulled his mouth to hers. Her mind was full of him, a whirlwind of sensation.
She wanted to touch, to taste, all of him, everything. But his hand was between her thighs and he used it to take her up the first time. Up and over bringing a sob from her lips and leaving her body lax.
Matt watched her face as he tugged away the last pieces of clothing. She was hot and wet and so, so soft. His mouth found her again as their desperation increased.
She spread her thighs wide and he slid through her hot, wet folds. And when she wrapped her legs around his hips, he pushed deep inside with one long thrust. Abby gasped and moaned her pleasure, tightening the hold she had on him.
He stayed like that a moment, both of them still like they did sometimes, dragging it out. Slowing it down.
His hands moved to cup the sides of her face, their eyes held in a silent exchange of love and need and promises. Abby was the first to move, arching her hips up with a whimper in the back of her throat.
With his heart pounding, he filled her with one long stroke. Buried in her soft heat, he groaned at the pleasure, let her pulse through his system. Her hips lifted, and beat for beat they moved together, eyes locked. Her hands groped for his, found and held.
There was only the two of them, only this. The slide of flesh, the pulse of hearts. Giving and taking until he heard her gasp, felt her tighten around him. He watched her face, her eyes closed, mouth open on a gasp. Then he plunged one more time and followed her over.
ABBY LAY LIMPLY, eyes closed, lips curved at the feel of Matt’s body collapsed on top of hers. With one arm wrapped around his wide shoulders, the fingers of her other hand slipped slowly through the hair at his nape.
She could feel Matt’s heart beating against hers. This was her favorite time—okay, second favorite—when Matt was still inside her, her core still pulsing with small tremors.
He wouldn’t stay there long, always afraid he was too heavy for her. And so, after another minute passed, he rolled and shifted until she had one leg slung over his and her cheek rested on his chest just above his heart.
“Damn,” he muttered and the sound vibrated through his chest.
“What?”
“I didn’t even give you your card or flowers. I was on my way to get a do–over there when you called me about Jack.”
She smiled and kissed his chest. “I forgot to give you yours, too. What did my card say?”
“It wasn’t nearly as wordy as Tyler’s.”
Abby laughed. “I should hope not.”
“It said, I love you and thank you for being my Valentine.”
Abby raised up so she could see his eyes, then caught his face in her hand. His hand came up to cup her cheek as well and her heart swelled. “I liked hearing you read it to me. And I love you, too. This has been the very best Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had.”
Matt looked at her a long time. So much emotion in his eyes, she felt tears well in her own.
“Mine, too,” he finally said. “And...” He reached over to the bedside table. She heard him fumble around with what sounded like a small box before he rolled back with something dangling from his fingers. “Something for my Valentine.”
Her breath caught at the beauty and the sweetness. On a delicate silver chain hung a tiny diamond studded heart–shaped cut out dangling loosely over a bar of iridescent pearl. It was small, simple, and beautiful. Something she could wear always, never taking it off.
She swallowed against the thickness in her throat. “It’s perfect.”
“So are you. Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day.”
3
Master Chief
WHILE HIS WIFE did the afternoon run to dance and scouts with kids one through three, Matt stood watch over four and five. Standing watch was an accurate description, he thought, as he peered down at Mary where she lay on her back in her crib.
Looking like an angel in the white knit dress Abby had put on her that morning, her arms rested up beside her face in her “under arrest” position. The soft sweater–like material gathered gently at her little wrists. Abby had made the dress herself, with tiny stitches of the softest yarn.
Mary lay peacefully on white sheets. Most of the room was white and a soft, muted green, with pale plum walls and accents. He knew this because he may not be a decorator but he did know how to listen and follow his wife’s directions. Abby was the decorator. Whisper soft, he touched a finger to Mary’s hand. She didn’t stir.
It never got old, he thought, watching his baby girl sleep, watching her wake up. He gazed down at this little light of his life who sighed and smiled in her sleep like the beautiful gifted child she certainly was.
Mary was three and half months old now, and with every new joy as she grew, there was a pang in his chest that it was going entirely too fast.
Doug “Loogie” Ellis had texted an hour ago to say he and Bob Decker were coming by. He hadn’t seen either of his former SEAL teammates since his wedding. They’d been down range and were heading out again soon. But he had his own daily missions now. His team was just a little smaller these days. And cuter.
As he often did, he actually willed the baby to wake up. Matt glanced at his watch, saw they were on the leading edge of nap restriction. Abby had left him with a kiss and some gentle encouragement that he let Mary get in a good nap, going so far as to insinuate how personally worth his while she would make it.
He smiled at that thought. The baby. The kids. His work. And his wife. He absolutely couldn’t imagine how life could be any better. His cell buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out.
We’re here. Stealth arrival as ordered.
Matt gave Mary another look, then went to greet his friends. Kids artwork and a grouping of photographs dominated the long hallway wall. There was an eight by ten portrait of all seven of them, Charlie on his shoulders and Annie holding baby Mary. He hadn’t been entirely excited about the outdoor photo shoot, but he had to admit it was well worth it.
The photograph had captured the children perfectly and he’d hung smaller framed images around the larger one. Gracie laughing, her face to the sky as she flung white flower petals in the air. Another of Jack and Charlie, poking sticks in an aged cement fountain. That was his life, his family, and at the center of it were he and Abby.