Chapter One

Skylar Radford jumped and emitted a squeak at the unwanted, deep, and unmistakable rumble of the Harley roaring down the cul-de-sac. That obnoxious, earsplitting sound could only mean one thing. He had returned.

Parker Jax.

With a frustrated sigh—a mixture of sexual want and irritation—she climbed off the stool at her workstation and went to the window to steal a hungry look. Hugging the wall, she barely moved the gathered curtains. Only enough to peek beyond the cotton boundary.

Wouldn’t do for her to be caught staring at her hot-as-fuck neighbor. His incredible array of sexy tattoos all over, the scruff on his face, and buff build invaded her dreams. A Recon Marine body was definitely what she dreamed about.

He was perfect. He was a blond-haired, green-blue-eyed, inked god. Or would be, if he weren’t such an enormous ass.

He deliberately played loud music. Revved his engine—and hers from afar—at inappropriate times. And don’t get her started on the endless stream of fake-titted, ass in thin lips for plumping, bleach-haired women who arrived when he was home. The ones who got what she could only dream of.

It was so pleasant when he was gone. No vehicles blocking her driveway for parties she wasn’t invited to. No long nights of insanely high-pitched laughter from the women there vying for his attention.

“Can’t wait for the parties and the other loud shit to begin again,” she muttered sarcastically.

There wasn’t any one thing specifically that irritated her about the man; he just rubbed her the wrong way. Oil and water. Sweet and sour. Hard and soft. Fast and slow. Hot and cold.

They were such opposites she couldn’t recall a time they’d had a nice conversation. Their time typically revolved around her knocking on the door, demanding someone move a vehicle so she could leave her driveway, or her tossing shit back over the fence into his yard, or receiving a grunt and a chest scratch when she tried to be a good neighbor.

She didn’t call the cops or have vehicles towed when they were in her driveway, but still, she was made out to be the bad one.

Facts that rubbed her raw.

Most of the neighbors were elderly, which led to the quiet she coveted. She had her own reasons, her own demons, to run from, and what she didn’t need was the sexy-ass distraction.

Skylar sighed and moved to back up. He turned his head toward her, removed his helmet, and winked as he revved the motor once more before vanishing into the garage.

Of course he’d seen her.

What bothered her far more than having been caught sneaking a peek was that her body responded to his simple and utterly meaningless gesture.

With a litany of muttered curses flowing from her mouth, she went back to the intricate commissioned piece she had to finish. She picked up the chisel to carve the door lying before her on two sawhorses.

Soon enough, she was lost in her own world. A place where anything was possible, and the man next door didn’t invade. Her music was on, providing background ambiance.

Bam. Bam. Bam.

Jumping at the intrusive noise, she swore at the stab in her palm from the sharp edge of the blade.

“Damn, damn, damn. Dammit!”

After jerking her stinging hand from the work of art, she ignored the blood running along her skin and wiped the dark red liquid off the door. Then she focused on her injury.

Bam. Bam. Bam.

She gritted her teeth and took a deep breath. Hand wrapped in a dingy yet clean light blue towel, she stomped from the workshop garage through the house to the front door.

“Yes?” she demanded, yanking it open.

It was a struggle, but she forced niceness into her tone. It might actually be a neighbor she liked.

It wasn’t.

Lusted after, sure. Dreamed about, definitely. Liked? Nope.

“You,” she growled.

Beyond him, she saw a line of cars, some in her driveway, and knew the night would be loud.

“Took you long enough, Skylar.” His deep rumble bypassed her ears to hit directly on her lady parts that had been ignored too long and tease them.

Fuck, she was surprised he remembered her name. Usually all she got were glares and grunts.

Her anger simmered, but she tried—so hard—to remain calm. Faster heartbeat meant more blood pumping and more blood loss. Her hand had begun to feel numb, though the throb had yet to completely vanish.

“What could you possibly want?”

Those incredible green-blue eyes moved over her figure, pushing her pain to the back of her mind and setting up an entirely different type of throb. Entirely different.

“That’s a loaded question for a marine just off his latest deployment. Right now, however, I’m merely after a blender.”

Irritation at being asked to supply items to his party, but not securing an actual invite, spiked through her. After all, she supplied the parking and some of the items needed, and apparently allowed her backyard to be the trash can.

She snorted and did her best to ignore the dark ink spiraling from beneath the sleeve of his shirt twining around his muscular arm in a sensual and sexy way.

“I’ve seen the women you parade in and out of there. I’m nothing like them, so not a loaded question for me to ask, regardless of any recently finished deployment.” She locked her knees as her world shifted from the pain. Shit, not good. She needed to get her butt to the hospital. “Blender’s on the counter. Lock up when you’re done.”

She hated letting him in her private space, but she had to get to a hospital and have herself checked out.

He narrowed his gaze, yet stepped inside. She moved past his overwhelming presence, trying to keep the bulky towel around her hand hidden. Outside, she forced her legs to work as she headed for her truck.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” His intoxicating baritone carried to her all too well, not to mention to those women at his place who turned in their direction.

While she prayed he was hollering to someone at his place, she opened the door to her truck. Closing her eyes briefly, she took a deep breath and hoped she wouldn’t fall as she tried to climb up.

“You better fucking be sliding all the way over. I saw all the blood and the fucking bulky towel you tried to hide from me. You’re injured and not driving.”

She bit back a whimper. “Leave me alone.”

“Give me your fucking keys and slide over.” Behind her was his warmth, and she didn’t even know when he’d gotten so close. That rumble left his mouth and zeroed in on her clit, giving her another reason to be light-headed.

He apparently decided she wasn’t moving fast enough and gripped her around the waist, depositing her in the passenger seat like she weighed no more than a feather. Before she could wrap her head around that, his powerful forearm brushed her breasts when he plucked the keys from her hand.

They were peeling out of the drive moments later. Parker cussed about the car he nearly took out to leave her driveway.

Now he knew how she felt.

He buckled his belt as they streaked off down the road, leaving the cul-de-sac and heading for the main road.

The truck’s windows were up and she could smell his fresh and clean masculine scent. The air conditioner didn’t help dispel the scent of him.

He wove around traffic like it stood still, yet she never once thought there was danger of a wreck. He handled her truck with skill.

Wonder what else he handles with such skill?

Damn her brain for even thinking along those lines.

The moment he squealed into the ER and slammed to a halt, he pointed at her. “Don’t move.”

She reached for the handle.

“Do. Not. Move.” The command was so graveled and deep it sounded like he’d just gargled rocks. He was at her side and lifted her into his arms, then carried her into the waiting room.

She couldn’t find any energy to argue. This was what happened when there was a dry spell, and she was so hard up for man’s touch she got turned on by a guy carrying her into a hospital.

“I need a doctor!”

The room spun and a roaring in her ears swelled. She blinked away her sluggishness as he lowered her into a wheelchair.

“This is not looking good at all,” the nurse said with a kind smile, as she stepped behind her. “We’ll have your girlfriend fixed up in no time.”

“I’m not—”

“Good.” His baritone voice wove around her, and she swore he stroked her curls. “Can I come with? I’d rather not leave her alone.”

“How romantic,” the nurse whispered in her ear.

Right. He probably wanted to yell at her for holding him back from his latest conquest.

Skylar somehow managed to keep her thoughts to herself. She’d lost a lot of blood, which the doc reminded her, repeatedly, as he stitched her up. Once the pain meds had kicked in, she was beyond ready to get home.

Parker Jax hadn’t left her. At all. He remained near, not touching her, yet she swore he did. Everywhere.

Hours later, she sighed as her too-sexy neighbor lifted her into the passenger seat, strong fingers around her waist. To her mind—obviously her drug-addled mind—his touch lingered a heartbeat longer than necessary.

Even if it was only in her head, it would be nice in her dreams to think he couldn’t keep from touching her.

As he slid behind the wheel, she shut her eyes and prayed to be home soon. He didn’t speak, and she hated how much time had passed, nearing evening. Her day had been wasted. She ground her jaw and held on to hope she could get more work done tonight. She was behind on this piece and didn’t relish the idea of missing her delivery date.

And she was going to be even slower now because of this injury.

The truck slowed, and she sat up. There wasn’t any way to ignore the fact that they were the center of attention as all his guests watched Parker pull up to her house. Behind the wheel of her truck. He wove carefully through the vehicles whose owners had decided it was okay to use her driveway. With ease, he backed them in and killed the ignition.

Be nice, Skylar. Open your mouth and say something kind for him helping you. He could have left you and just taken the blender. But he drove you there, kept you safe, and didn’t leave you.

“Thank you,” she muttered. “For taking me”—her words faltered when he pinned her with his sharp stare—“to the hospital. I know you had plans to be elsewhere. And doing other things.”

He removed her key. “Don’t move.”

“I can—”

“Ain’t got no call to argue with me. Stay in the damn truck until I get there.”

His tone was dangerous, and it vibrated through her.

“What’s up, Parker?” one of the hot babes in a bright turquoise bikini yelled. “You’ve been gone for hours.”

Skylar began to move just as he opened the door. His dark brows narrowed and she stilled, unnerved by the glint in his eyes. “Do you ever listen?” He never once addressed the blonde’s comments.

“Do you ever not bark orders like you’re a goddamn commanding officer?” Her words were slightly slurred, but she didn’t apologize, the meds apparently having boosted her argumentative side. “I mean, I’ve thanked you already, said you could use my blender, let you in my house, and you’re still yelling at me. In fact, I’m not trying to get your attention or take up your time. I’ve gone out of my way so you didn’t have to come.”

His gaze narrowed as he assessed her features.

“Maybe I like the idea of you in my arms, Skylar Radford. Ever think that’s what’s going on here? And I’ll wait until the drugs are out of your system before we address the comment of me coming.” He unhooked her belt and swept her up in his arms. “Because, trust me, I have plans for both of us doing that. Multiple times.”

Nope. That thought wasn’t entertained at all. Not in real life. However, for fantasies that was something entirely different.

“Parker!”

Again, he ignored the screeching harpy and carried Skylar back into her home. He took her directly to the couch, where he deposited her and placed her meds nearby. After which, he took her phone and entered his number.

“You call me if you need anything or feel the slightest bit off.”

“I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

He bent down and boxed her in. “Don’t test me, Skylar.”

“Don’t you have a party with horny women to throw?”

He dragged two knuckles down her cheek. Her pulse skittered beneath the simple—yet surely hollow—gesture.

“Say the word, and I’ll stay here with you.”

All she detected in that spoken statement was pure honesty, and it threw her. His deep baritone rumbled through her, making her long for something more, something she’d had in the past, only to have it yanked from her. She dismissed her wavering emotions and pushed those memories back to a dark, uninhabited corner of her mind. “Goodbye?”

His grin told her he wasn’t perturbed by her answer. He stood up, winked, and left her alone.

…

“What was all that, Parker?” Sally asked, her fake boobies about to spill free of the fuchsia top. “You said you were getting a blender and then tore off with her for hours.” She sidled up to him, laying her silicone implants against his forearm. “We came to see you, too. We know how you all are when you’re just off a long deployment. Insatiable, and just how we like you.”

“I took her to the hospital.” His comment fell stiffly as he placed Skylar’s blender on the counter. Simple and functional, much like the woman who owned it.

If he wanted to be honest with himself, damn woman had had her claws in him since the first day he’d seen her.

It was a desire backed by his dick 100 percent. But she was a Goody Two-shoes and not the kind of woman he should ever get involved with.

Didn’t stop his dreams, though, of having her screaming as he fucked her. Still, dreams were one thing, reality something completely different.

“Why?”

Shoving back his impatience at the thought that she held any sway over him, he plugged her blender in.

“Shits and giggles.” He caught the eye of his friend Gibson, who responded with a nod. Moments later, Sally had been swept outside to hang with the others.

“What about the blender?” Ioan questioned as he rested his hip against the counter.

“This one stays inside. I don’t need it destroyed like the last one.” He rubbed his chin. “Also, tell everyone to stop blocking her driveway.”

Okay, so he’d been an ass about that a lot.

His friend nodded, blond bangs falling forward over his eyes until he pushed them back; their parties could get rowdy. “Got it.”

The party was back in full swing a short time later. Music pumped and the alcohol flowed. Women swam in either skimpy outfits or just bottoms. People were making out in his backyard, and a wide array of food cooked on the grill, sending the delicious aroma to his nose.

As he rinsed out the blender to start a new batch of margaritas, Gibson moved up behind him. “What’s up with you and your hottie neighbor?”

Latching the container on the base, Parker stared at his teammate in Recon. Two of the guys he served with had come home with him this time. It wasn’t uncommon; they typically came for the parties and then went on their own way. Gibson McMasters and Ioan Cooper.

But this time, he figured it was for a different reason, as he was on a mandatory leave because of his injury. He had to get through some physical therapy and be cleared to get back to active duty. That was all on his plate for the next thirty days. Their last mission, he’d been injured and had surgery to repair his leg. And until he could pass the rigorous physical needs of Recon, he was sidelined. Benched. He’d been assigned a physical therapist to get back into shape for active duty. This was his life, and the fuck, he wasn’t going to let a shitty landing in a parachute and the subsequent bullet end his military career.

While he wasn’t pleased with the situation, he’d come back stronger than ever and reclaim his position on his Recon team. Logically, he understood they’d be fine without him, but dammit all, they were his guys and he should be with them.

That said, it smacked him wrong on so many levels to have Gibson ask about his neighbor.

Parker had been indulging in fantasies about Skylar for almost a year now and had since the first day he’d seen her when he moved in. She’d just reached over the space between them and sunk her nails into him. Hadn’t let go, either. And to be honest, he wanted her nails digging into his shoulders and back as he took her hard, fast, and deep. Hearing her scream his name until she lost her voice.

I’m a fucking pussy that I haven’t done anything about it.

But, he wasn’t right for her.

He was a Recon Marine, couldn’t ever guarantee he’d be coming back, had to be gone for long stints of time and without being able to tell her where he was going. Skylar wasn’t a one-night fuck kind of woman; she was the one you took home to meet the parents. She was the epitome of white picket fence, kids, and hell, even a dog. Not something he could offer her.

Then again, maybe he could for a short time, while he was on medical leave. Unease filled him at the thought of not being in the field ever again.

“Parker?” Gibson moved into his line of sight. “I asked you about your neighbor. Are you fucking her and if not, mind if I have a go?”

It was by the grace of God he didn’t fly off the handle and pummel his good friend into the ground. Had they not been so close, most likely that question would have had an entirely different outcome.

“Today was the longest I spent in her presence. We’re neighbors, that’s all.” He shrugged and ran the blender for the next round of drinks. “And as you’re married, I’m thinking you’re not really meaning that at all.” He pitched his voice to carry over the sound of the motor.

Gibson stared at him, light blue eyes not blinking. His mouth twisted up in a wry grin. “So that’s a no, then.”

“Not what I said.” It ripped at him that his friend could read him so well.

Yes, he was being deliberately obtuse, but he wanted to prove to himself he could control these feelings toward his neighbor.

Gibson’s gaze twinkled with mirth. “Okay, then.” He shoved Parker away from the blender. “Go to your party. I can do this.”

Yeah, he was suspicious, but took the newest pitcher of margaritas out. Five minutes later, Gibson moved between the yards to Skylar’s front door, her appliance in his hand.

I’m going to kill him.

Each moment he couldn’t see them, the angrier he became. Ioan approached him, beer in hand. All without saying a word, Parker understood the question his friend wasn’t verbalizing.

“I’m fine.” The words were forced past his lips.

The man stared, blinked, then walked off, bottle to his lips. Within seconds, two women in only bikini bottoms fit against his friend, their hands on Ioan’s ass and twining around his blond ponytail.

Parker didn’t care if Ioan fucked all the women there tonight. Personally, he wasn’t touching any of them. It would be yet another night of whacking himself off to the fantasies created by one Skylar Radford. The heart-shaped face she had, full, plump lips he wanted to do naughty things to and with, and holy Christ, her curves. She was fit but built like the pinup models from the past, nothing but dips and swells that had his hands itching to trail along the silhouette and learn them up close and personal. Seeing the blood had freaked him out. In battle it was one thing, but the gray pallor of her smooth dark skin because of blood loss made him feel useless.

This was why couples shouldn’t be in the field together. He would have forgotten everything but her.

Her determination to take care of it herself was admirable, no matter how foolish it had been for her to do so. Hell, she could have passed out behind the wheel. And Gibson still remained over there two hours later. Inside Skylar’s home, while the party raged on. He checked his phone, in case he’d missed the text or call from her. Nothing.

He should check on her himself. Make sure she’s okay and had taken her medications. Besides, the doctor did say she shouldn’t be left alone, and what kind of boyfriend would he be if he left her without someone there? An excuse? Sure, but he didn’t give a fucking damn.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he left his house and headed to hers. Reaching for the doorbell, he swore and instead tried the handle. It opened soundlessly, and he stepped into her home. He hadn’t looked around earlier and took a moment now. The layout was similar to his but flipped. Her blender, now clean, was set on the otherwise spotless gray marble countertop. A few plants sat in unique wooden containers on surfaces, adding depth and life to her place.

“Skylar?”

No sound. She wasn’t in the living room with the kitchen. The suspicion coursing through him expounded exponentially. This left her bedroom.

Fist tight, he’d stepped toward the hall when he heard Gibson’s voice from back in the hallway off the kitchen. If he got the layout right, it should be to the garage. Where she watched him from a lot of the time. “Holy shit. I said it before but it’s fucking worth mentioning it again. You are fucking amazing.”

There wasn’t any logical explanation for his possessiveness toward her, it just was. That snapped the remaining thread of his control. Parker shoved into the space, nearly flinging the partially open door into the wall behind it.

Gibson didn’t jump; instead, a smile twitched his lips alerting Parker that his friend had known all along he was there. Hell, he’d probably heard him call out her name. Bastard always had what they called sonar ears, hence the man got his nickname Sonar.

Skylar, on the other hand, jumped and spun toward him, eyes wide with shock, her fat, naturals curls bouncing with the move. Her color was better but more than that, he loved the way pure, raw lust replaced her shock. Nearly as fast as it arrived, the lust was masked by cool disdain.

Her full lips were parted as she struggled to control her breathing. Skylar’s chest—piece of fucking art, in his mind—rose and fell in time with her rapid breathing. Her workout pants and sweatshirt didn’t do anything to hide her curvaceous figure. He wanted to pull the material away and indulge.

“What are you doing here?” There was far too much animosity in her tone.

He struggled to pull his eyes off her and focused on the slab of wood between them.

Fuck, that’s incredible.

Intricate carvings of wolves, trees, and more. They damn near leaped off the wood. She was making a door.

“You did this?”

She flattened her lips. “While I realize I don’t jump out of planes, do all that other by sea-air-or-land shit your motto states, I do have a job. What I’m good at.” She held up her hand. “Or used to be.”

She made zero effort to conceal her bitterness.

He crossed his arms to keep from touching either the wood on the sawhorses or her. “Those are the SEALs, darlin’. I’m a marine, as you well know, not a squid.”

She didn’t bat an eye. “Basically, you’re informing me that there’s room for improvement, then, on your end.”

Cheeky. He admired her spunk. What he didn’t think so highly of was the approval in Gibson’s gaze as he observed her.

“Gibson, Ioan’s looking for you.” His comment was a flat-out lie, because knowing his friend, he had his dick in one of the two women he’d last been seen with, or they were both sucking him right now.

His friend quirked a brown eyebrow. “Guess I should go then,” he drawled in a slow, unhurried way. He took his time strolling toward the door and dared to stop by Skylar.

Parker bit back his possessive growl as Gibson dipped his head close to hers and whispered something in her ear. Her blinding smile ratcheted up his jealousy, and he purposefully slowed his breathing and tried not to envision stabbing Gibson in the throat with the chisel lying close to his hand.

“Call me if you need me.” Gibson kissed her cheek, all the while pinning a smirking gaze on Parker. “You have my number. Don’t forget it’s the one listed right above the one tagged ‘Asshole.’ You know, Parker’s number.”

Yep, his friend deserved to die by Parker’s hand. A slow and oh-so-painful death.

Not moving until it was just the two of them in there, he refused to look away from her. Wanted her off her game. Wanted her to wonder what he was thinking.

“Something you needed?”

Okay, so her reaction wasn’t quite what he’d hoped. Most women he knew would be blushing and flirting. Not his Skylar. She obviously struggled to ignore the desire between them. He had to get her to stop that.

“I came to check up on you.”

Some of her anger and defiance fell away. Not the surprise, though. And again, he got it. He was the asshole of a neighbor.

“Thank you. I’m fine.” She lowered her gaze to the door, then lifted it once more, erasing the stress that had appeared when she looked at the wood slab. “I appreciate you taking time from your party to do so.”

He narrowed his eyes and made his way around to where she stood. His cock was iron hard, and he inhaled, his dick throbbing at the evocative scent that surrounded her. He had no idea what it was, but he wanted it all over him. And his scent all over her. A frown tugged at the corners of his mouth at the slight scent of Gibson’s cologne.

She does not need to smell like him at all.

“What?” The edge in her tone had him grinding his jaw.

Capturing her chin in his hand, he tipped it up. “You keep pushing yourself.” He gave a slight shake of his head and took a deep breath. “You need to rest. Doc’s orders. And either you head for bed, or I will put you there.” He passed over her with a heated rake of his gaze. “What’s your choice?”

Please let me put you there, although I don’t think you’re ready for what I want to do to you. I fucking love your hair. He wanted to touch it, smooth it along his fingers and indulge in the silkiness he knew it would embody.

“I’m going, I’m going. Go back to your party. I’ll take my meds and head to bed.”

He cocked a brow. “I’ll wait. We can go back to hating each other tomorrow.”

Returning to the party at his house was the furthest thing from his mind. There wasn’t another place for him to be than at her side, making sure she was okay and didn’t need anything.

The fuck he was going to let her call Gibson for help. Skylar was his.