Can't Hold Us

An Army of Me and You is now available on Shara Azod's site! This story means a lot to me. I said in another post how I've military family and corrupted a few military men. (No, that's a lie, they corrupted me.) More than that, I hope I've conveyed just how difficult it is to leave behind everything to start a new life in another country to save your life. How it never goes away, but like most things, gets easier. No preaching. Just two people coming together after extraordinary circumstances. 

Here's the blurb:

The irony of Madeline Mpoyi's choice in a career was never lost on her. Being that her days as a girl in a war torn village, suffering the horrors of an innocent Rwandan child started off as anything but sweet most would find it incredibly funny that as a woman she'd be manufacturing treats to send to the soldier that saved her life. Or at least she thought it was the soldier that saved her life. Errr...technically it is...being that he has the same name and comes from the same bloodline. Although Major Nathaniel Goldsmith Sr. has long retired, his son is carrying on the family tradition as a Captain in the army. A Captain that has come to depend on both Madeline's sweet letters and even sweeter care packages. And it would seem that said Captain has Madeline in his sights...eager to sample whatever else she's willing to offer...

And this is the excerpt:

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m driving. Borrowing my father’s run around for a bit. He barely uses the other three.”

Madeline tucked a twist under her scarf. “You’re quite privileged, aren’t you?”

“In many ways, yes. Not many people come home to a few cars in the garage that they can borrow.”

“A few?”

“Five.”

“Who needs five cars?” she blurted.

He ticked them off his hand. “The Land Rover, the truck that pulls the horsebox, a Mercedes, a Jaguar, and my mother’s Bentley.”

“No one needs five cars.”

Cain gave a shrug. “They’re all old enough and ragged enough to be worthless in today’s value. I won’t say it’s not nice being privileged. I wouldn’t get free sweets otherwise.”

“Or free truffles,” she added.

“Or kisses.”

Madeline’s eyebrows drew together. “I don’t have anything called kisses...” Her voice trailed off as she took in their circumstances. That sweet chin of hers was balanced on the edge of his left hand, and his right cradled the small of her back. Until he’d touched her, he hadn’t fully appreciated just how badly he wanted to kiss her. He watched as the rise and fall of her chest increased in speed, mimicking his uneven breaths. Her mouth parted, and the flash of her pink tongue flicked off his brain switch. All instinct based, he lowered his head and pressed his mouth to hers. He’d only meant to kiss her goodbye. Or rather, see you later.

As soon as he tasted her, all his thoughts were on Madeline naked, underneath him, thighs parted and cradling him against her soaked sex. His hand moved from her chin to lightly stroke her face, the skin so soft beneath his fingers. He trailed his hand over her side, tracing the shape of her waist and the flare of her hips. Madeline moaned under his mouth, the sound sending a thrill over his body.

“Um,” she gasped. “Can we... Not in the street?”

He barely lifted his lips from hers to send her a frown. “Where?” With her lower body pressed to his, his mind transported him to the back room of her shop. He could sweep the chocolate aside, perch her on the edge of the table, and lift the skirts of her vintage dress. Within moments, he could be buried inside her, rocking them both to satisfaction.

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