Protected by a SEAL (Alpha SEALs, Book 6) (5 page)

Brent turned from the cashier, tucking his
wallet back into his jeans, and his piercing blue gaze met hers. He
moved toward her, his movements quieter and smoother than she’d
expect of someone of his size and stature. It must be all that SEAL
training—he was probably silent, stealthy, and deadly.

Why did that combination sound so
appealing?

“Let’s show these guys how it’s done.” His
gravelly voice sent shivers racing down her spine, and she had the
strangest desire to hear that rough voice at her ear. Brent wasn’t
the type of man to whisper sweet nothings, but the idea of his lips
brushing against her skin as that low voice rumbled through her
body was as arousing as hell.

She tilted her head back to meet his gaze as
six feet plus of solid male stopped in front of her. He was tall.
Broad. Perfect. He completely dominated the room—not to mention her
personal space. And suddenly she’d love to have his type of alpha
male assertiveness focused solely on her.

“I guess you’ll be showing me, too,” she
said.

He raised his eyebrows. “Is that so?” His
voice was thick with promise. Something close to desire flickered
in his eyes. “I’ll show you whatever you want,” he murmured
quietly, so that none of the others could hear.

“I mean, teaching me how to play,” she
hastily corrected, realizing how her comment had sounded.

He chuckled. “Sure, I’ll teach you that,
too.”

She felt flustered as he watched her. Even
though she knew he was just kidding, something about the way he
looked at her sent both heat and embarrassment licking through
her.

“Look, it’s okay. I’ll just get Brianna and
Matthew to show me how to play.”

“No can do. I need a partner. Besides, I
could beat them blindfolded. You need to learn from the best.”

Her eyes were drawn to his full lips. That
mouth on her skin? Just the thought of it was nearly enough to make
her spontaneously combust. Never mind that her past sexual
experiences had been clumsy at best. Brent knew what he was doing.
And the idea was equally terrifying and exhilarating.

His gaze briefly flicked over to the other
guys after his cocky comment, and each man groaned in protest.

“Modest as always, asshole!” Mike called
out.

Ignoring the jabs of his friends, Brent
cocked his head in the direction of the pool tables. “Come on.”
Without another word, he turned and strode away, leaving her
standing there watching him.

“He’s an arrogant son of a bitch, isn’t he?”
Kenley commented dryly.

Mike chuckled and wrapped his arm around her
waist. “Hell yeah, he is. But he’s a good SEAL and has saved my ass
more times than I can count. So we keep him around.”

“Don’t let Brent scare you off, darlin’,”
Matthew said. “He’s more bark than bite—well, unless you’re into
that sort of thing.”

“Matthew!” Brianna chastised.

Matthew shrugged as a grin crossed his face.
“And like I said earlier, the second you’re ready to go, Bri and I
will take you home. No need to stick around if Brent’s sorry ass is
giving you a hard time.”

“I guess a few rounds of pool won’t kill
me,” Ella muttered. Yeah. The game wouldn’t, but an evening with
Brent just might. He was danger and desire all wrapped up in one
spectacular package. A gift she’d never get a chance to unwrap,
because that type of thing wasn’t for her. Wouldn’t ever be. And
she wasn’t really the type to pine over what she couldn’t have.

Steeling herself, she turned in the
direction that Brent had gone. He’d picked a table in the far
corner, and she had to cross the entire room, trailing after him
like some lovesick puppy. Not that she was interested in Brent. Or
lovesick. Not at all. But seriously—he hadn’t even bothered to wait
for her. Just waltzed off assuming she would follow.

Then again, everyone else was still milling
about the front of the pool hall with her. Maybe he was just a man
used to being in charge—to knowing everyone else would follow his
lead. The women probably just trailed after him, too, she thought
with a sigh.

This entire evening was starting to seem
like a bad idea.

Half an hour later, Brent bent over the
billiards table, his muscles straining against his white tee shirt.
As he eyed the cue ball, he perfectly sunk one into the corner
pocket. Ella tried not to gape at his bulging muscles and the
perfect way his ass filled out his jeans. At the way his biceps
were so big, she probably couldn’t even wrap both hands around one.
Or the way the denim clung to his muscular thighs.

She certainly wasn’t looking at any of
that.

Not at all.

Brent grinned as Matthew whooped and
hollered at the great shot, despite the fact that everyone else was
losing.

“Damn, we’re going to lose again,” Mike
muttered.

“Let Ella have a turn,” Brianna chastised as
Brent moved to sink another ball. “You’re supposed to be teaching
her how to play.”

“No, I’m fine,” Ella insisted from her perch
in the corner. “I don’t mind watching everyone.” She certainly
didn’t mind watching him, at least. Almost preferred it
actually.

Brent glanced up from across the pool table.
Her heart raced as his piercing blue eyes met hers, and she
could’ve sworn she saw a flash of heat in his.

“Come on,” he said, jerking his chin.

A man of few words, she thought wryly. If he
said ‘jump,’ would he expect her to ask ‘how high?’ He was probably
used to women doing exactly what he wanted.

With everyone’s gaze on her, Ella slowly
walked over, clutching her cue. Her hands felt sweaty, the polished
wood practically slipping between her fingers. It was just nerves
from everyone watching, she told herself. It was only because she
didn’t know how to play pool. It had absolutely nothing to do with
the breathtaking man before her.

Brent had tossed his leather jacket aside
but still looked intimidating as hell in his tee shirt and jeans.
It wasn’t the outfit that practically had her entire body pulsing
in awareness though—it was the way he filled it out. His chiseled
features and strong jaw gave way to impossibly broad shoulders and
thick biceps. Muscled forearms showed the physique of a man who
worked out for a living—there was barely an ounce of fat on him.
The wide expanse of muscles on his chest narrowed at the waist,
with jeans that hung perfectly off his hips. And he was tall,
towering above her slight stature so that she barely even reached
his shoulder. She’d felt safe with him down in Florida—protected.
At ease for the first time in forever as he’d stood up for her.

And now she just felt…aware.

Acutely, painfully aware.

“Stand square to the table,” Brent
instructed, oblivious to her unease. As his hands came to a rest on
her hips when he stepped behind her, she jumped at his touch,
hearing his slight intake of breath.

And even as she could feel his warmth
radiating behind her, she had an urge to run far, far away. Having
him innocently touch her felt far too good. And falling for a guy
like him was foolish. Yeah he could protect her—physically. He
could keep creeps like Frank or other handsy patrons of the
cocktail lounge from even looking at her the wrong way. But
emotionally? He’d crush her heart before she even knew what had
happened. Move on to the next woman while the sheets were still
warm. And she didn’t have time for heartache—not when she had
school to finish and bills to pay. Not when she had her own life to
live. She didn’t have a safety net—didn’t have someone watching her
back. There was no sense in pretending he was that type of guy. Or
that she was someone who would ever mean anything to him.

Her body had a mind of its own though, and
warmth seeped through her even as goose bumps spread over her skin.
How she could be hot and cold at the same time made no sense, but
it had everything to do with Brent’s powerful body behind hers,
almost trapping her against the pool table. He was so tall his chin
could easily rest atop her head, and if she stepped back into him,
her ass would be pushing right against his groin.

“Like this?” she asked. Her voice sounded
thin to her own ears, like Brent’s very presence had suddenly
sucked all the oxygen from the room.

“Perfect,” he said, his voice gravel.
“You’re right-handed?”

“Yes,” she mumbled, surprised he’d even
noticed.

“We’re gonna grab some more food,” Mike
called out.

Ella glanced up, and Mike and Kenley were
already heading toward the bar to get more appetizers. Matthew
wrapped his arm around Brianna’s shoulders as they leaned back
against the wall, content to watch Brent and her at the pool
table.

Brent grabbed her cue and lifted it up so
that it was parallel to the table. “Hold the cue like this,” he
said, taking Ella’s hand and positioning it. “We’re going to hit
that striped ball and sink it into the corner pocket.”

“That looks impossible,” she said
doubtfully.

“I’ll show you how to do it.”

His slightly calloused hands felt rough
against her skin, and his large hand practically engulfed hers. A
beat passed, and she glanced down. Thick veins stood out on his
muscular hand, and she imagined what it might feel like to have
those hands moving over her body. Dragging across her skin. For the
briefest of seconds, his thumb caressed her skin, but it was over
so quickly she was sure she’d imagined it.

He leaned over, his large body curving
around hers, and placed her left hand on the table. “Put your other
hand just like this,” he said, his voice thick. “You have to get in
position before you can play.”

“Looks like you’ve done this a time or two,”
Matthew drawled. “How many women have you taught to play pool?”

“I’m sure he’s taught them more than that,”
Mike laughed as he walked back over. “Brent loves to go all
night.”

“Hush,” Brianna said as Brent stiffened
behind Ella. “He’s just teaching her how to play pool. Even Brent
doesn’t have to sleep with every woman he meets.”

“Just ignore them,” he muttered. “You’re
doing fine.”

“We can take a hint,” Matthew drawled.
“We’re gonna chill over there.” The four of them grabbed chairs at
a nearby table, digging into the appetizers Mike and Kenley had
brought over. And suddenly, Ella and Brent were all alone.

Ella felt almost delicate as he moved her
hand to where he wanted it. Protected as he practically embraced
her. A man like Brent probably liked to take control of
everything—the situation, his surroundings, the women he took to
bed. And the arrogant, dominating man behind her, made up of pounds
of muscle and tightly-leashed strength was a little
too
appealing. She tried her best to pay attention, but damn, the man
even smelled good. Some sort of clean cologne and pure masculine
scent. And with his male heat surrounding her? Part of her had the
strangest desire to turn around, wrap her arms around him, and bury
her face in his chest. To inhale his clean scent and warmth. To ask
him to hold her just for a moment, just until she felt like she
could breathe again.

“Once you’ve got the shot lined up, you can
take it. We’ll do this one together.” He moved infinitesimally
closer and his hand tightened over hers. She felt crowded and
overwhelmed and aroused all at the same time.

And there it was again, his thumb slightly
caressing her skin. So innocent it could have been nothing. An
accident. But this was Brent. And everything he did seemed to have
intention. His lips were at her ear, and there he was, nudging
closer, his thick erection nudging against her ass. She gasped, and
he squeezed her hand.

“I could teach you all night,” he said, his
voice gruff. Thick with suggestion.

“Your phone is buzzing again,” Brianna said,
interrupting the moment. “Want me to see who it is?”

Ella froze. Damn it. She’d never texted
Frank back earlier, and now the asshole was going to keep texting
her all night until she replied. They both knew she’d be back at
work this weekend—she needed the money. But she had to make it
absolutely certain that he knew it would be on her terms. No way
was she sleeping with that bastard.

“Are you okay?” Brent murmured at her
ear.

“What?” she asked, distracted by his
closeness. The anxiety she felt was instantly replaced by a sense
of calm. Frank wasn’t here. He couldn’t berate her. Couldn’t yell
or demand something she refused to give.

She took a deep breath as her heart rate
returned to normal. “I mean, yeah, I’m fine.”

She pulled away from Brent’s tempting
warmth, handing him the cue, and he eyed her questioningly.

“Oh for heaven’s sakes,” Brianna said as
Ella’s phone buzzed again. “Do you have some secret boyfriend I
don’t know about? Someone just texted you five times in the last
few minutes.”

Brent tensed up beside her, and she blew out
a sigh as she walked over to her handbag. She felt the curious
gazes of everyone else and tried her best to remain nonchalant.
“I’m sure it’s just a wrong number or something. Lord knows that if
I had a boyfriend, you’d know about it.”

Brent let out a sound that could only be
described as a growl, and she flicked her gaze to him. His eyes
flashed, but he didn’t say a word.

“Yeah, I figured,” Brianna said with a
shrug. She beamed up at Matthew.

Ella pulled out her phone and, ignoring the
messages from Frank, shut it off. “There—problem solved.” She
tossed it back into her bag, debating whether or not she should
just go ahead and change her number. The problem was, if she was
planning to go back to work there, he’d need to get a hold of her
sometimes. In case of scheduling changes. Or emergencies. So there
went that idea.

Brianna raised her eyebrows, waiting for an
explanation, but Ella simply walked back toward the pool table,
ready to move on. “So, are we gonna shoot some pool or what?”