The Officer Says "I Do" Read Free Page A

throat and soothed the spot with his tongue. The hand on her breast tugged until her tank neckline lowered. Until his hand was cupping her bra and not her shirt. Oh God, he was going to undress her in the hallway. And she was going to let him.
    Skye let her head fall back until it thudded against the wall. Was this what Fate was planning the entire time? Was the fact that she hadn’t said no automatically a sign?
    “I don’t know anything about you,” she said weakly. Weakly, as if she was losing power by the second.
    “Thirty-one. Never married. Clean bill of health. Captain in the Marine Corps. Twenty-nine Palms. Last name O’Shay.” He ended each description with a pinch of her nipple, a twist of the flesh.
    She was drowning. That’s why her lungs were working double-time to drag air in. No other explanation.
    “Not going to share anything?” His other hand scooted up to her bottom rib, taking her shirt with it.
    “McDermott,” she managed to breathe out. “Twenty-eight. Restaurant manager. Never married.”
    “Sounds good to me,” he said. One knee pried her legs apart until she was riding his thigh. The pressure between her legs was a torment. “Feels better.”
    On that, she couldn’t disagree.
    “Well?” he asked against her lips.
    Fate is never wrong.
    Skye took a deep breath. “Yes.”
    Fate is just waiting for you to catch up.

Chapter 2
    Tim opened the door to his comped suite with a flourish, then caught himself as he almost fell through the door. “Welcome.”
    The brunette walked in and looked around, dropping her purse on the entry table. Skye. Her name was Skye. How the hell had he gotten her up here? Think, Tim. Think .
    Blackjack. Palm tree. Car ride. Paperwork. Did he bring paperwork? Did he sign something?
    He ran a hand down his face and pressed his thumb and forefinger to his temples. He was losing chunks of time. Damn, why did he keep drinking after he won all that cash?
    This is why I don’t drink whiskey. This is why I’m always the nanny.
    He watched as Skye—what an odd name—surveyed their surroundings. He hadn’t been in the suite himself yet. With each step, her hips swayed in that little black skirt she wore and he stopped caring how they got from Point A to Point B.
    Kissing Skye. That was something he remembered. Vividly.
    She walked over to the L-shaped couch, sat down, and crossed her legs. Her skirt slithered up her thighs, dangerously close to showing him exactly what she was wearing underneath. That was a mystery he was more than willing to look into.
    Patting the couch cushion beside her, she said, “Come over here.”
    He walked over, ignoring the way the room tilted, and plopped down on the couch beside her. Had she followed him up? Or did he invite her? Shit, why couldn’t he remember?
    “I think we need to get to know each other a little.”
    He bit back the urge to ask why. That would have been rude. Tim didn’t do rude. Unless he was drunk. Fuck, was he drunk? No. If he was drunk he wouldn’t be so damn horny. His arm curved around the top of the couch, hand dangling, fingers brushing the soft skin of her shoulder.
    She gave a shy smile, like she was embarrassed. “Tell me something about you. I know your name and your age. But that’s all.”
    “What do you want to know?” To take her mind off conversation, he leaned over and placed a kiss on her cheek, then let his lips roam over her jawline.
    “Well,” she breathed. “What do you do in the Marine Corps?”
    Still talking. He scooted until he was facing her and brushed a hand down her arm. She shivered and he smiled against her neck. Working his way down to the place where her shoulder started, he lightly bit the tendons. She gasped, and a hand came up to cup the back of his head. Ah, that was better. He tugged at the hem of her tank, letting the back of his fingers brush against the warm skin of her stomach while they drifted up.
    “You… you didn’t answer,” she said on a