Lambert's Lady Read online

  He didn’t miss the worried look on her face when she’d asked if he wanted to be friends with benefits with her. He’d been two seconds away from reassuring her when Jack had interrupted. He’d been pissed at first, but now he was enjoying teasing her. Sheridan was no one’s fuck-buddy. She was made to be cherished. It was obvious she worked hard, she was at the bar almost every night. She’d told him that she had plenty of money saved up from her previous job, but that she was bored and took the bartending job to have something to do.

  In other words, she was lonely.

  Just like him.

  And Greg wanted to make sure she was never lonely again. By keeping her. Forever.

  No, he didn’t want to be friends-with benefits with her. He wanted her to move in with him, or he could move in with her if she preferred. He didn’t give a shit. He’d purchased his condo after Karen had died because he didn’t like the memories of the hell she’d gone through fighting the cancer.

  He would always miss his wife, but Sheridan was so different from his deceased wife it wasn’t funny. She was outgoing where Karen had been shy. Sheridan was lush where Karen was not. Sheridan wasn’t afraid to go toe-to-toe with an unruly patron whereas Karen would’ve stepped back and let someone else handle things.

  Greg had fought his feelings for Sheridan for a while, but in the last month, after their kiss and her surprising proposition, he’d found that he didn’t want to ever let her go.

  Greg sat on the barstool and watched Sheridan for the rest of the night. She joked with him and they’d talked when she had some down time, but there was a new current of sexual awareness between them tonight that had never been there before. Greg had been semi-hard all night and couldn’t wait to walk her home.

  Finally, she was done cleaning and straightening the bar, the manager had removed the money from the cash register, and she’d pocketed her tips for the night.

  “Ready?” Greg asked quietly.

  She nodded.

  Greg held out his hand and without hesitation, even though they’d never done this before, she took it in her own. Greg intertwined their fingers and squeezed, telling her without words how happy he was that she was by his side. She smiled at him and they walked out into the dark night, turning to the right toward her apartment without words.

  “So?” she asked after a couple of minutes. “You gonna answer my question or what?”

  Greg smirked. “What question?”

  She stopped and tried to tug her hand out of his, but he refused to let go. “You know what question. So this isn’t a one-night stand, but what do you want? Just to fuck when you have the time? When you decide to grace me with your presence?”

  Getting serious, Greg pulled Sheridan closer. He wrapped his free hand around the back of her head and bunched her hair into his palm before gripping it tightly. He wasn’t hurting her, but he also wanted to make sure he had her complete attention before he said what he had to say. “How many men have you met at the bar and taken home?”

  Her eyes widened before they narrowed. Then she started to struggle in his grip. To get away from him. “Let me go, asshole.”

  “Answer me, Sher. How many?”

  “You know how many.”

  “Humor me.”

  She glared at him. “None.”

  “Right. None. Except for me. And if you think whatever it is we have is casual, you’re insane. I’ve spent the last month jacking off thinking about finally getting to see your tits. About having you naked in my kitchen, like you said you wanted. This is not casual. We are not fuck-buddies. We are dating. And Sher, my intention is to date you for as long as you’re comfortable with before putting my ring on your finger and making you mine in a way that no one can mistake.”

  Greg wanted to smile at the look in her eyes, the complete and utter shock, but he didn’t. He was too worried about what she was going to say and do next.

  Sheridan stared at Greg in disbelief. She didn’t think he’d be a dick about hooking up with her, but the last thing she expected was for him to practically ask her to marry him. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, Sher. Seriously. No other woman, even my late wife, has captured my attention like you have.”

  “Oh.”

  “Got any more questions for me before we go back to your place and you have your wicked way with me?”

  Sheridan liked the thought of that, but she wanted to get one more thing straight. “Are you gonna give me your phone number?”

  He blinked. “What?”

  “Your number. I want it. After all this time of us getting to know each other at the bar, you never offered me your number, nor asked for mine. I don’t want to have to wait a month for you to show back up at the bar before getting to talk to you again.”

  Greg growled. The sound that came out of his throat couldn’t be described as anything else. He tightened his hand in her hair, Sheridan had to admit that it was exciting as hell to have him be holding her like that, and leaned in. “Woman. What did I just say?”

  She opened her mouth to answer, but he didn’t give her a chance.

  “I said that we weren’t fuck buddies and that I wanted to marry you. I’m not going to go one day without seeing you, much less a month. I had to wait for my commitments to be fulfilled before I could come for you. But now that I’m here, I’m here. Got it?”

  “So does that mean you’re gonna give me your number?” Sheridan asked cheekily.

  “Yeah, Sher. You’re gonna get my number…among other things I’m gonna give you,” he returned.

  Sheridan giggled. “Okay.”

  “Shit, you’re a pain,” he said, but since he was smiling as he said it, Sheridan didn’t take offense. He moved his hand from the back of her head, caressing her nape as he moved, and turned toward her apartment. They’d taken a few steps when Greg suddenly stopped.

  Sheridan stumbled against him, not understanding what was happening. Her attention had been on Greg, and not on where they were going.

  “Give me your wallet,” a gruff voice demanded.

  Sheridan gasped and looked up. A teenager stood in front of them, holding a knife toward them, gesturing at Greg impatiently.

  She felt Greg loosen his hold on her hand and she dropped it, feeling nervous, but not quite alarmed. Yet.

  “I said, give me your wallet, old man,” the boy repeated.

  Greg held up his hands in a consolatory gesture. “You don’t want to do this,” he told the teenager. “Just turn around and leave.”

  The boy laughed. A low mean sound that grated on Sheridan’s nerves. “As if. Give me your wallet now.” He turned to Sheridan. “And you, bitch, I want all your jewelry.”

  “I’m not wearing any,” Sheridan told him honestly. She never wore jewelry when she worked at the bar. She knew she’d be walking home and never wanted to provoke anyone into robbing her. Fat lot of good that did her.

  The teenager looked confused for a second before saying, “Your money then. I want all of it.”

  Thinking about the tips she’d earned that night, Sheridan grimaced, but started to reach into her back pocket to pull out the wallet she kept there. She generally didn’t carry a purse either, for the same reason she didn’t wear jewelry. She loved bags, had a ton of them at home, but never carried one when she knew she’d be walking on the city streets late at night.

  Greg grabbed her wrist and prevented her from pulling out her wallet. “Seriously, kid. You picked the wrong couple to rob. Turn around and leave and I’ll forget this happened.”

  “What are you gonna do?” The kid taunted. “You’re older than dirt. There’s no way you can overpower me. Now, give me your fucking money or I’ll cut her.” He thrust the knife in Sheridan’s direction menacingly.

  She took a step away from him, not liking the crazed look in his eye. “Maybe we should—”

  It was all she got out before Greg moved. If she hadn’t been standing right there watching, she wouldn’t have believed it, but within seconds, Gr
eg had disarmed the punk kid and had him on the ground. One arm was behind his back and Greg’s knee was in the middle of his back holding him down. The kid was moaning and kicking, but couldn’t break the hold Greg had on him.

  “Sher, can you please grab my phone from my back pocket and call the police for me?”

  She blinked. He’d sounded so calm and matter-of-fact.

  “Sheridan?”

  The sound of Greg calling her name got her moving. She jumped forward and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket.

  “The code is one, two, three, four, five, six.”

  “Oh my God. It is not.”

  He turned his head to look at her and grinned. “Yup. I forget anything else.”

  Sheridan rolled her eyes. She knew the man didn’t forget anything, but she was still a little surprised after she pushed in the numbers that it unlocked. “That’s the worst password in the history of passwords,” she mumbled as she dialed 9-1-1.

  After she’d informed the dispatcher of the situation and that Greg had things under control, she looked back down at the man she couldn’t wait to get in her bed and asked, “Should we be worried about anyone else surprising us?”

  Greg shrugged. “Not sure. But I’ll handle it if they do.”

  Sheridan should’ve been turned off by his cockiness, but instead she simply nodded. She had no doubt Greg would be able to handle it if the punk’s friends showed up. He’d taken down the teenager as if he did it every day, and he wasn’t even breathing hard. Every time she learned something new about the man, she wanted him more. She’d never felt safer than when she was by Greg’s side. Tonight just proved that point tenfold.

  “Let me up,” the teenager cried out.

  Greg chuckled, but it wasn’t humorous. “Riiiiight. After you threatened to cut my woman you think I’m gonna let you up? I don’t think so.”

  “Not to mention he called you old,” Sheridan reminded him helpfully.

  “Man, I didn’t mean it.”

  Sheridan laughed. After looking around and seeing no one else sneaking up on them, she crouched down next to the kid. He was grimacing with the way Greg was holding his arm behind his back and pressing him into the concrete. He squirmed, but was totally ineffective at getting Greg to loosen his hold. “You picked the wrong man to mess with,” Sheridan told the teenager.

  “Whatever,” the boy whined.

  “He told you to walk away,” she reminded the kid gleefully, not above rubbing it in that he was taken down so easily.

  “Stay still,” Greg warned then indicated with his head for Sheridan to back away from him.

  She stood and took a step back. She wasn’t afraid of the kid now. There was no way Greg was going to let him go.

  “He’s a Navy SEAL,” Sheridan informed the teenager. “Was a decorated war veteran, a Commander, and he personally knows both the President and Vice President of the United States. Not to mention, he’s also worked for the CIA and who knows what other top secret badass organizations. I have no doubt he could break your arm with a twist of his hand and have you blubbering like a little baby. And just to point out, that old man just kicked your teenage ass. Show some respect,” she spat. “You want money? Earn it your damn self. Get off the streets and get a job for goodness sake,” she told him. “Robbing people of their hard earned money doesn’t make you tough, it makes you a bully and an asshole.”

  “Fuck you,” the teenager replied, then screamed in pain when Greg did something to his arm.

  “I don’t think he’s gonna listen to you,” Greg informed her.

  Sheridan rolled her eyes and shook her head. “What a waste. Seriously. I don’t get why people feel it’s okay to hurt others. Rob them, break into houses, rape people. It’s just crazy. Why can’t everyone just be nice? Is that so freaking hard?”

  If anything, Greg smiled bigger. “I can be nice.”

  Sheridan blew out a breath and tried to relax. “Yeah?”

  “Reaaaaal nice.”

  She smiled.

  Sirens were heard in the distance and they both turned their head to look that way.

  Thirty minutes later, after Greg had gotten up off the teenager and let the cop take him away, and after giving their statements, and after refusing any kind of medical treatment since neither of them had been hurt, they were finally on their way to Sheridan’s apartment.

  They didn’t speak, but when they got to the door, Greg stopped her. “Are you okay? We can wait if you’re upset about what happened.”

  Sheridan turned to him and stared. She wasn’t sure why he was asking. She didn’t think she’d been putting out vibes that said she was upset. Maybe he’d changed his mind? Biting her lip, she asked uncertainly, “Do you want to wait?”

  In response, Greg pushed her up against the wall and sandwiched her head in his large palms.

  Sheridan was beginning to think that was his go-to way of making sure she was paying attention to him, but what he didn’t realize was that she was always paying attention to him. She couldn’t do anything but pay attention to him when he was around.

  “I’m so on edge, I could take you right here, right now,” he said in a low rumbly tone. “The thought of that punk ass kid threatening you with that knife makes me so pissed off, I can barely stand it.”

  “You didn’t seem mad,” Sheridan told him, reaching up and gripping his wrists.

  “That’s because I was in control. The one thing SEALs are taught is to stay in control. But I don’t feel in control right now. I need you, Sheridan.”

  His words made her belly feel tight. It had been a very long time since anyone had needed her. Wanted her? Yes. Needed her? No.

  Without a word, she squeezed his wrist and pulled it down off her face. Then she interlaced her fingers with his and pulled him toward the door. He followed without a word as she towed him into her building and down the hall toward the stairs. She walked up two flights and down the hall to her door. She pulled out her key and he took it from her, unlocking the knob and the bolt then holding her door open for her. The second the door closed, Sheridan turned and pulled Greg to her.

  Greg was holding on by a thread. He had no doubt that he could easily take the thug on the street, but still, the thought of him getting lucky and hurting Sheridan before he could disarm him was still fresh in his mind. The way she hadn’t panicked, had trusted him to take care of the situation, and even how she’d told off the kid, praising him at the same time, had all made him want her all the more.

  He’d tried to do the right thing, give her a chance to think about what was going to happen between them. The last thing he wanted was for her to be with him tonight because of adrenaline or some other misguided reason, but instead she’d pulled him into her building.

  He’d planned on getting her something to drink and sitting on her couch and talking for a while, but instead she’d grabbed him and kissed him.

  The second her lips touched his, he knew he was a goner. He’d wanted to go slow, but that was thrown right out the window. He wanted her. Bad. And somehow he’d gotten lucky enough for her to want him right back.

  Sheridan moaned under her breath and their teeth knocked together as they fought to get inside each other’s mouths.

  “Clothes, off,” she ordered between kisses.

  Greg wasn’t one to take orders, but that was one he’d gladly obey. He took a step back, but his hands went to the buttons on his shirt. She followed him, their mouths still glued together.

  Pulling back, he said, “Arms up.”

  She immediately raised her arms above her head and he pulled the tank top up her body and over her head. Her hair fell around her shoulders in disarray as her hands immediately went to his own shirt and he let her push it off his shoulders.

  Greg stared at her tits as her hands went to his jeans. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. His dick was pressed so hard against his zipper it hurt, but he still couldn’t do anything other than stare at her tits. She was wearing a black lace b
ra and her mounds of flesh were almost overflowing the cups. Her cleavage was impressive and his hands moved without thought.

  He cupped her then, squeezing hard enough for her hands to still at his waistband and to throw her head back and moan in delight.

  “God, Greg…yes.”

  With no thought in his head other than finally seeing her, Greg roughly pulled the cups down and dropped his head. He sucked on her exposed nipple. Ate at it as if he was a man starved. She arched her back and one of her hands went to the back of his head. He felt her fingernails dig into his scalp as she pressed him closer to her.

  “Yessssss,” she hissed.

  As he devoured her breast, he pinched her other nipple with his free hand, rolling it until it was a hard little point. Then he switched sides, biting, sucking, and nibbling at her flesh until one leg came up and she pressed her hips into him desperately.

  When she began to hump against him Greg finally pulled back and looked down. Her upper chest was flushed with desire and her breasts were plumped up by her bra, her nipples hard and begging him to play with them.

  “You are so fucking beautiful,” Greg said reverently.

  “Please, Greg. More.”

  “Oh, you’ll get more, Sher,” He told her. Then swooped down and started kissing her again. He walked them both backwards as he undid the button on her jeans. When she almost tripped over the material he’d shoved down her thighs, he stopped and let her shove them the rest of the way off, along with her socks and shoes.

  He fumbled at his own jeans as they entered the living area. Not wanting to lose contact with her for a second, he swore under his breath when he had to reach down and take off his shoes to get his jeans off.

  Sheridan reached behind her to remove her bra and he barked, “Leave it.”

  Greg knew he was being too abrupt. But he couldn’t help it. He loved how her tits were pushed up by the bra and wanted to take her just like that.

  He shoved his boxers down his hips and ignored her gasp as his cock sprang up between them. He could feel precome leaking from the tip and knew it was smeared on her belly as he took a step into her. He pushed her panties down as far as he could reach, and she took care of getting them the rest of the way off.