Man of Honor (Battle Scars) Read Online Free PDF

control here.
    Who am I kidding? And what am I thinking? Sacrificing my control to cheer up Drake?
    Drake sits up with slow and careful movements, eyeing me like a trainer would approach a cornered jungle cat.
    “I…I think I need to go.” My words come out in a rush.
    Drake shakes his head. His eyes are kind but his words are firm. “Not happening, Mea. You’re in no shape to drive, and I’m in no shape to take you. You can stay.”
    I shake my head just as firmly. “That’s not a good idea.”
    Drake sighs. “I’ll sleep on the couch. You take my bed. You don’t have to worry about anything with me, Mea. You’re staying.”
    My eyes dart from his sincere gaze to the hallway where I know his bedroom lies. I only hesitate for a second before I agree. “Okay. I’ll leave first thing in the morning.”
    Because we’re both too far gone to worry about changing sheets and other niceties, Drake walks me to his room and I fall back onto his bed. I open one eye to watch him. He stands in the doorway, both arms hanging on the doorjamb above him, his white dress shirt long since unbuttoned, the rippling abdominal muscles and toned chest ripe for the viewing. With a big swallow, I squeeze my eyes shut once more just as the room begins to spin.
    “I’m gonna put some water next to the bed. Drink it.”
    I open my eyes and scowl. “Bossy.”
    He only chuckles as he walks away, and then I’m lost in the darkness as sleep pulls me into its arms.

5
Drake
    W hen I open my eyes the next morning, my first thought is that my head fucking hurts. My next thought is a question: Why the hell am I sleeping on my couch? Then my brain snaps back to last night and Mea’s flawless face and sex kitten little body. I groan at the tent my instant erection creates in the blanket thrown over me.
    Just the thought of her. That’s all it takes.
    Last night is the closest I’ve been to Mea since the one night we spent together years ago. And just like that, my brain flashes back to the memory I’ve kept locked away in a secret compartment of my mind, labeled “Best Night Ever.”
    Her full lips quirk upward in a seductive smirk as she plants two small hands on my bare chest and shoves. Allowing her to think she could actually move me with her strength, I fall backward onto my bed. Propping myself up on my elbows I lean back and stare at this sexy goddess standing in front of me.
    Without a word, she slips the straps of her tank top off of her slender shoulders. My eyes rivet to the creamy caramel skin as it’s exposed. My fingers curl as I suppress the urge to rise up and touch her. It’s obvious she’s running this show.
    In the hottest fucking striptease I’ve seen in my life she removes the skimpy top and the skintight jeans painted on her legs. She’s so small and petite, I know my hands could wrap twice around her tiny waist. I can’t wait to put that thought to the test.
    When there’s nothing left but a simple black bra and panty set, she walks toward me. Each step is deliberate and steady, and the sight of her confidence mixed with the portrait of her nearly naked perfection would be enough to bring me to my knees had I been standing. She stops just in front of me. She scrunches her lips to one side as she studies me.
    “Strip,” she orders.
    Not needing to be told twice, I make quick work of removing my jeans. My shirt was dumped somewhere in the living room, and I’m not wearing underwear tonight. The evidence of the way she turns me on springs free, and her eyes glaze over in the semidarkness of the room.
    I crook a finger as I slide back on the big bed, beckoning her closer. She obliges, following me. Her round tits bounce as she crawls toward me, and the first thing I do when she reaches me is unhook the clasp of her bra. Cupping her fullness in one hand, I kiss the plush skin of her breasts. She sighs, dropping her head back and straddling my lap. My ready and willing cock twitches in response as her hips move