Hot SEALs: Guard Dog (Kindle Worlds) (Stone Hard SEALs Book 3) (10 page)

“What?”

“Don’t talk back. Just strip.”

Her lips worked, but she complied and as she pulled off the hideous mom jeans—thank God—he cleared the bed, dumping the bags onto the floor. When she was naked—and God, was she glorious—he let her stand there, waiting, unsure.

He let her stand there until she began to fidget.

“Don’t move.” A whisper, but still a command. Her lips worked. Though the room was shadowed, the curtains drawn, he could still see her features, still revel in the lines and curves of her body. “I’m going to make you pay for teasing me.” It only seemed right that he warn her. He loved that she blanched. That her eyes flared. Her tongue peeped out to dab her lips. The scent of her arousal rose.

Excellent.

He bent down and rifled through the bags until he found what he wanted. He spread her robe out on the bed and waved at it. “Lie down.”

Ah. He loved watching her obey. Her alacrity sent a ribbon of lust licking through him.

“Hands over your head.”

Again, she obeyed. Her expression heated.

But when he pulled out the tie to her robe, and snapped it ominously, her jaw went slack. “Don’t move.”

He leaned over her and looped the tie around her wrists. Not too tight that she couldn’t escape—and she knew she could—but secure enough to give her the sensation of bondage. A moan escaped her lips.

“Hush.”

He sat by her side and stared at her. His beautiful Pansy, splayed out before him and—

With that thought, he pulled her ankles apart. Ah yes. Better. Completely open to him. Just as he wanted. Just as he craved.

“Now,” he said in a pedantic tone. “I am going to teach you a lesson about teasing someone.”

“I—”

“Hush. You can say one word only. And you know what it is. Don’t you?” He met her gaze. She shivered. Her head bobbed. She squirmed, but only a little. Just enough to let him know she was ready.

Excellent.

So excellent.

“Remember, don’t make a sound.”

She nodded again. Pressed her lips together.

And he began.

Chapter Nine

Oh, Lord in heaven above.

Pansy had not thought it possible.

Her other tanglings with this man had been mind-blowing. Phenomenal. She had not imagined it could get even better.

But this…

This!

This was beyond description.

For one thing, she was naked and restrained—though in truth, the restraint was defined by her acceptance of it. For another, she could hear the rumbled conversation in the front of the camper as Dane and Sander discussed the best route to get them to San Diego, so she knew they could probably hear any sound she made as well. She could also hear the noises of traffic whizzing by through the night, the occasional honk, the growl of a passing train.

And then there was his touch.

She’d suffered it before, his teasing, and she’d thought to punish him right back, when she’d dandled her foot in his lap, but oh, she was an amateur compared to him.

He began with her feet, stroking them and kissing them and making her squirm, and then he moved up her legs to her knees—slowly, tantalizingly. Her thighs were next and then, to her consternation, he moved up to her belly, skipping her steaming, dripping throbbing core. He massaged her hips, her stomach, nuzzled the notch at the base of her ribs. Caressed her shoulders and arms and neck.

And God, she’d never known her neck was so sensitive.

The scruff of his beard alone about drove her mad.

When his mouth found her nipple she nearly howled, but she bit her lip to keep the sound in. It was a challenge because once he found her nipple, he did not seem inclined to stop. Sucking, nibbling, nipping, even the occasional pinch—that sent lust whipping through her in a raging storm.

She lifted her hips, weeping, whimpering, silently begging for more. For completion.

He ignored her.

Without even touching her clit, he enticed her to the edge of orgasm. He made her breathless. Made her want to beg. But she couldn’t beg. She couldn’t say a word.

She caught his gaze and let her anguish show. Silently, she pled with him to finish her. Her misery seemed to take him aback. He stilled, stared at her. His throat worked.

And then, holding her gaze, he scudded his palm down, over her breasts and belly. He traced her slit, nothing more than a tease, but a shudder took her.

“Yes,” she hissed, arching up. “Yes, please.”

He groaned, a dark and longing thing, and slipped his fingers between her lips and—ah, God!—touched her.

Rapture possessed her. Devoured her. Destroyed her.

Her body devolved into shudders and quakes. Her blood raced, lungs locked. Bliss rose up in her, the slow, steady all-consuming kind, the kind that lingered and lapped at her in wave after wave.

It was an agony of delight. Perfection, completion, yet at the same time, igniting an ember, a desire for more.

She wanted him in her. Now.

Need burned her, scalded her. Insanity reigned. She didn’t care that they were in a vehicle barreling down a major highway. She didn’t care that there were men—possibly listening—on the other side of the accordion curtain. She had to have him. Needed him more than she needed her next breath.

She launched up and hooked her bound hands around his neck. “Take me,” she whispered into his ear. “Take me now.”

Fuck.

That one thought raced through his mind.

Just: Fuck.

First of all, he wanted to.

Second of all…he couldn’t. Not here. Not now. Not the way he wanted to.

“Fuck me, Mason.” A nibble on his lobe. A nip.

A sizzle snarled through his balls. They shrank, coalesced into needy little nuts. His cock thrummed. Damn.

“I didn’t bring the condoms.” Shit. Why hadn’t he brought the—

“I did.” She leaned back and shot him a wicked grin. He loved it.

Hell, he loved
her
.

“The whole box.”

He tried not to laugh, although he wanted to. Her expression was adorable. “I don’t think we need the whole box.” He said as he whipped off his shirt.

She put out a lip. “My my. You’d think a man of your…vigor would have a little more confidence in his abilities.”

“It is a five hour drive,” he reminded her. “And my friends are in the next room.”

She reached for his zipper. “Don’t worry. We’ll be quiet.”

Ah. But they weren’t.

Probably.

He really had no clue, because as soon as he laid her back down and covered her and eased inside…he lost his mind.

She was too perfect. He was too bewitched for any control whatsoever.

And the pleasure was far too sharp.

He meant to take it slow and steady, but was soon as he eased into her tight sheath, his easy slide became a savage thrust. She closed on him, inside and out, holding him in a slick grasp and digging her fingers into his ass, wrapping her legs around him, arching up into him and forcing him deeper.

The bed was not large, certainly not long enough for his person, but that hardly mattered. He pressed his toes against the wall and, using it as leverage, launched into a steady barrage of lunges that had her moaning and huffing and thrashing beneath him.

It was wild. It was fierce. And it was quick.

She came almost immediately, and then she came again.

When the third wave hit her, she sucked in a gasp and bore down, closing him in an unbearable vice of carnality.

But he managed to bear it.

For a second or two.

And then his body seized. His vision blurred, his mouth watered, his pulse rocketed into the stratosphere. His cock swelled and he increased his pace. Harder, faster, deeper.  She shuddered around him and he froze. Unable to move. Unable to think. To breathe. Un-needing of any of those things.

Because heaven descended.

He stared into her eyes as he came, and she stared into his. It was glorious and perfect and so intimate it made his chest ache.

He loved this.

Loved her.

His Pansy.

He collapsed at her side and pulled her into his arms, wrapping her in a delicious cocoon. She needed it. His warmth, his presence. Now that the heat of passion had passed, the prickles of sweat on her skin chilled her. He tugged the robe around them and she nestled deeper. She tucked her nose in the crook of his neck and inhaled until his scent filled her lungs. Filled her soul.

Silence, peace, surrounded them.

“What is this?” She asked at long last, speaking her thoughts without reflection. Had she reflected, she might never have allowed the words to escape.

“Between us?” He understood her completely. That was part of his charm. But only part of it. He leaned up and stared down at her, gently brushed the hair from her cheek. “I’m not sure. But it’s more powerful than anything I’ve ever known.”

Her heart swelled.
Thank God. Thank God.

She thumbed the cleft in his cheek. “Me too. I don’t understand it.”

“Neither do I.” His lips were soft, questing on hers. His taste suffused her. “All I know is I want to be with you. Need to be with you.”

“I feel the same.” It couldn’t be love. Not after two days. Not after thirty years of never finding it. It couldn’t come this quickly. She didn’t want to, but she had to ask the hard question, the one that gouged at the back of her brain. “Is it just lust?”

He blew out a soft breath and kissed her again. “I’ve felt lust before. It wasn’t this…”

“This what?”

His gaze met hers. Burned her. “This desperate.” His voice broke on the word, lancing her with an unfamiliar ache.

“It is desperate, isn’t it?” It was a flurry of doubt and fear and hope and giddy elation all wrapped up in a brown paper package with a ribbon that could not be untied.

“All I know is…” His throat worked. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Ah. Her heart skipped a beat. He spoke to her fears as well. “All right.” She extricated herself from his hold and edged to the other end of the bed, taking her robe with her—surely not for protection. She didn’t miss his frown at her withdrawal. “What do we do about this?”

He sat up as well, looking vulnerable and lost. He found his t-shirt and pulled it on. “First, we get you through this nightmare. We nail Steven to the cross and make sure you’re safe.”

“And then what?” Because really, if she was safe, if she was no longer in his keeping, there would be no reason, no excuse to be together. The thought savaged her.

“And then, we play it by ear?”

She frowned. That was a terrible plan. Playing it by ear had never worked out for her before.

“Why are you frowning?”

“Play it by ear?”

He blinked. “What’s wrong with that idea?”

“Play it by ear sounds like you’re looking for an out.” His lips worked, but she didn’t allow him to speak. “If you want this to end, when it ends, just say so now.”

“I don’t want it to—”

“Because by God, I couldn’t bear it if you just turned around and walked away with no warning. I would much rather enjoy this—whatever the hell it is—knowing that it’s a fling, that there are no expectations of…”

“Of what?” His voice was soft.

“Of something more.”

“Do you think it might be something more?” His question, his tone, his reserve made her blood go cold.

“I think it could be.” Hard words to say. Tough to brave the worst of the worst—his potential rejection.

He leaned closer, so close his breath skated across her face. He laced his fingers in her hair, cupped her nape and pulled her near. “I know it is,” he said. “I
know
it is something more.” And then he sealed her mouth with his.

And never in her life had a moment been so sweet.

They arrived at the Naval Amphibious Base in Coronado just as dawn was breaking. The pale pink fingers rippled over the ocean. It was a sight Mason had always loved. It was even more breathtaking today. Surely not because he was sharing it with Pansy. And she had her hand in his lap—that stole his breath too.

They sat at the flimsy dining room table in the cab, having braved Dane and Sander’s reaction when they emerged from the bedroom. Lola was on her pillow, but it was clear she was still mortally offended to have been shut out of the room while they frolicked. And, oh how they had frolicked.

He should have been drained, but somehow, she made his ardor rise as she caressed him gently.  Her timing couldn’t have been worse.

“We’re almost there,” he murmured against her forehead.

“Mmm.” A wicked grin. Another stroke.

He grabbed her wrist and placed her hand on the table and then, for added security, laced their fingers. “Be good.” A rumble.

“I am good.” She winked.

And hell, she was.

Too good, perhaps. Too alluring. Too sexy. Too desirable for a man who was about to meet his former commander and his new wife. With a full-on erection. “You’ll like Lily,” he said, by way of distracting her interest. When he’d called Ryder, to warn him that they were on their way and explain the circumstances, Lily had answered the phone. “Her dad is Senator Wilson.”

Pansy’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yeah. She’s a sweet thing.”

Pansy’s brow lowered. “Is she pretty?”

“Gorgeous.”

Oh. Shit. Her expression didn’t bode well for him. He hurried to add, “They’re perfect for each other.” And when that didn’t work, he murmured. “Pregnant out to here.” He held his hand waaaay out. Because she was. Very pregnant.

Pansy sniffed.

“They’re very much in love.”

She seemed somewhat mollified. “How did they meet?”

“On a mission.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He was relieved to turn the topic from how pretty Lily was. Though she was. “She and her friend Brandy were on a ship that was seized by Somali pirates. Our team went in to rescue them.”

“Wait. Was that the same mission where you were shot?”

“Yeah.”

“You really fought Somali pirates?”

“Yeah.”

Pansy stared at him for a moment; concern flickered over her features. “That sounds dangerous.”

He rubbed his chest, rubbed at the pain that often still nagged him. The spot where the bullet had slammed into him, stopping his heart. “Can be.”

Her gaze flicked to his hand. “Do you…do things like that often?”

“I’m retired from the service.” Somehow it didn’t burn as much as it had. Somehow he didn’t mind so much that his dream had ended. Because now there was the possibility of another dream beginning—

“But do you? Do dangerous things often? Is
this
job dangerous?”

He looked away. “Can be.” Hell, crossing the street could be dangerous.