Touched By Midas (SEALs Going Hot Book 4) (7 page)

No tour schedule was dragging her and her parents, her father’s manager, the band, and a dozen roadies from city to city on buses. No screaming throngs of fans attempting to touch her, cut her hair for a souvenir or asking her father for autographs. And, most importantly, not being used by a deceitful man for his own personal gain.

Granted, Midas was attempting to use their date as a means to getting her to the concert. But he’d been honest with his intentions. He’d told her what he wanted and why. Simple. Straightforward. Truthful. She had to cut him a long length of slack for that.

How he could have guessed spending time with his sisters and then the rest of his extended family dancing the night away would be preferable than any boring fancy meal or overtly complicated and expensive night on the town, she didn’t have a clue. But until her dying day she would remember this date and the joy she felt living it. He’d hit the nail on the head. She would forever be thankful.

But going to the concert, where her father’s fans would converge, was too risky. The people there would be thinking of Bussey Stevens, recalling memories of him, his life and his career. Her mother was also on the USO tour, and Dara Summers adored the limelight. She loved nothing more than to bang on her tambourine at the front of the stage while the band played, which only improved the odds of fans thinking about Bussey and Dara’s one and only daughter, Raven Angelina.

Being discovered was just too easy.

Better to deny her sexual attraction to Midas, feign an affront to his advances and label the end of their date a disaster than jeopardize the quiet, albeit lonely and boring life she’d worked so hard to build. Lonely and boring was preferable to off the charts crazy.

Now if only her mind would stop fantasizing about Midas touching her in intimate places. Or the length and girth of his cock. Or the way his muscular body would feel on top of her while he thrust deep within her. He had a reputation for being good in bed. Would reality match his infamy? Maybe she could show him a new thing or two.

Midas pulled onto a gravel road and drove several minutes before coming to a stop at a paved driveway. Between the high beams of the Jeep, the bright glow from the moon and the light from an outdoor fixture, Angie could easily make out a rustic cottage surrounded by pine and eucalyptus trees. Clean and well-maintained, the white washed country house with the flat roof bore a resemblance to others in the area. One glaring difference though was an upended horseshoe hanging over his front door.

Another superstition. His sisters weren’t lying when they’d warned her about his obsession.

She opened the passenger door and stepped outside, meeting the familiar sounds of ocean waves lapping the shore met her ears.

“This is your place?”

Midas nodded. “Bought it a few years ago. I’ll give you the grand tour when we get back.”

Instead of heading to the front door as she’d expected, he held out his hand, inviting her to grab hold. He led her around the house to a backyard patio. Not more than a hundred yards from where they stood, she could see the beach.

So the SEAL lived near the beach. There was a bad joke begging to happen.

He sat on a rough hewn bench. “Know how to take off boots?”

“I think I can manage.”

He held up a foot and circled it in the air. “Okay then. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Many years had passed since she’d pulled off her father’s trademark snakeskin western boots. But she’d done the task so many times, she could do it in her sleep.

“You have a bra on?” Midas asked after she removed both boots. He stood and slipped off his short red jacket.

“Yes. Why?”

“Because my sister will kill me if I ruin her dress.” He pulled the shirt tails from his tight slacks. One by one, he unfastened the buttons, then stripped off the shirt, placing the garment on the bench next to his jacket.

Angie felt her mouth go slack. Midas’ broad chest appeared to gleam in the light of the moon as though the silver beams were trying to embrace the sexy SEAL. And holy mother of pearl, he did have washboard abs. Quite possibly the best six-pack she’d ever seen.

Her pussy spasmed. Beneath the many ruffles of her skirt, her knees trembled.

Did he have to look so damn yummy? How could she possibly claim disinterest in having sex with him when the cream wetting her panties clearly gave her away?

“I thought I made myself crystal clear.” She stiffened her spine, doing her best to make the most of her five foot four height and marched right up to Midas. She lifted her face, making sure he could see the serious look she was doing her best to hold. “I’m not having sex with you.”

“You did.”

He bent over her. Holding both of her cheeks in his hands, Midas kissed her full on the mouth.

The move, so bold and unexpected, literally took her breath away. When he finally withdrew, she reached out to him to hold herself up while the world spun around her.

“What was that?” she asked on a pant.

“Something I should have done a long time ago.”

Midas pulled her to him, wrapping one arm around her waist and the other over her shoulder, then placed those luscious lips on hers again. This time he coaxed open her mouth. Sucking gently, he drew her tongue into the unknown hollow of his mouth, inviting her to explore. She couldn’t resist. She dragged the length of her tongue over one side of his before plunging back to repeat on the other side. Exotic and savory spices flavored his mouth, making her stomach growl for more. Again and again, she delved in, feasting on the delicious treat. She was so caught up in tasting every bit of him, she hadn’t even noticed he’d unzipped her dress until the heated skin on her back met a cool breeze.

Angie jumped back. The jarring movement caused the bottom heavy gown to fall from her, creating a giant pool of ruffles around her calves. She immediately grasped for the garment, but he stopped her.

“Don’t. Wear this instead.” Midas held out his shirt. “I wasn’t kidding about my sisters killing me if that thing gets ruined.”

“Just what are we doing that will ruin a dress?” She plucked up the shirt and pulled it on. It was still warm and smelled lightly of cologne.

“A moonlight walk on the beach.”

Great. Just what she needed. More romantic settings with a shirtless SEAL who had her toes curling in her shoes. She had to leave before the last thread of her willpower snapped.

“I think Cinderella is ready to take off her glass slippers and snuggle up to that pumpkin we rode in to the fair.”

Did she just say snuggle up to a pumpkin? Good Lord, he had her head completely messed up.

Midas chuckled. “If you’re tired, let me take you inside. I have a guest room.” He unfastened the button of his slacks, then slowly unzipped the fly.

Before she could stop, she licked her lips. Wave after wave of hot cream soaked the small strip of fabric covering her pussy that Victoria’s Secret had the nerve to call underwear.

“I thought you weren’t going to try to seduce me.”

“I changed my mind.” He peeled the tight pants from his muscular legs and kicked the garment aside.

Her gaze traveled from his wide shoulders down the narrow valley between his bulky pecs and over the well-defined rows of his abdomen. As her body search continued down the road of temptation, she let out a moan. A thick erection pushed the snug material of his tighty whities. Even in the silvery glow of the moon, she could see a small wet spot of pre-cum just below his cock’s rounded tip.

“Your briefs don’t look military issued,” she somehow choked out.

His lips curved up in a half grin. “I can take them off, if you want to inspect the tags.”

Yes!

No!

Yes!

She had landed smack in the middle of the proverbial rock and a hard dick conundrum.

The smart thing to do would be to turn around and demand to be driven home.
Her
home. The fun thing to do would be to unleash Raven Angelina and allow her to go to town on the SEAL. He had just admitted he was asking for it, and she’d already gone this far by going out with him. Why not go all the way like she’d been dying to? Maybe then she could stop thinking about him and he would learn a lesson about tempting a wolf in sheep’s skin.

“All right.” She purposely stared him in the eye and bit her lip. “But I want to take them off.”

The cheeky grin on Midas’ face faltered and surprise filled his baby blues. Seeing his expression change was priceless.

She still had the touch. She may not have used it in a long while, but she could chop a guy in half with just the delivery of one well-timed zinger.

“What’s the matter, sailor man?” Angie bridged the short gap between them and placed the flat of her hand on his slab of abs. Sliding her fingers under the waistband of his underwear, she located his beefy penis and gently squeezed. “I thought you were ready to play.”

“You sure you want to do this?” he asked, his voice sounding a little more southern that usual.

“Did I stutter?” She squeezed a little harder.

Midas glanced at the door and back. “Don’t move a muscle.”

He stepped back, and she released her hold. After locating his pants, he fumbled through two pockets before pulling out a set of keys. Seconds later, Midas unlocked and opened his back door and then whisked Angie into his arms. With long steps, he strode through the doorway and kicked the door closed. His short, labored breaths wafted pleasantly over her chest.

Though dark, Midas easily navigated through the small house. When he’d found the room he wanted, he paused long enough to deliver a scorching kiss before carefully lying her on a bed. Soon he struck a match and lit a candle on the nightstand.

Angie stripped off Midas’ shirt and propped herself up on a stack of firm pillows. With the tip of one finger, she scraped beneath one of her lacy bra straps, slowly, methodically going back and forth between her shoulder and the swell of her breast. At what she gauged was the right time, she pushed the bit of lace off her shoulder, letting the strap fall on to her arm. Midas watched as though mesmerized.

Forging on, she cupped a lace-covered breast and kneaded it for several beats, taking care to pinch the hardened nipple before lowering her hand down the flat of her belly. Without stopping, her fingers drifted beneath her panties. She arched her back as she slipped the pads of two fingers through her soaked folds. She looked up when she heard a gruff groan coming from the SEAL.

He stood, stock still and completely naked, at the side of the bed. Sometime while she lost herself in her naughty little show, he had taken off his underwear.

She removed her hand from her panties, placed one of the wet fingertips in her mouth and sucked. Another rough exhale sounded. Angie lowered her eyelids.

“Bad boy, Midas,” she tsked. “I told you I wanted to take off your underwear. This is not good. This is going to cost you.”

His cock jerked. “Is that right?”

Oh, the pleasure of holding a big man in her little palm. Why had she waited so long?

“That’s right.” Angie shifted and dangled her legs over the side of the bed. She patted the mattress. “This is where I want you to put your belly button. I want to see that firm ass of yours in the air, sailor.”

He hesitated.

She rose from the bed, planting her feet shoulder-width apart and placing a fist on her hip. Pointing toward the mattress, she reached deep down and found her voice of authority.

“I said put your mother-fucking belly button on the bed, sailor.”

Midas complied.

The spot she had chosen was nearly perfect. He was so tall, when bent at the waist, his ass was almost at the right height.

Angie moved behind him. Without warning, she tapped the inside of one of his calves with her big toe.

“Spread those legs.”

His back stiffened, but he adjusted his feet. Now both rounded globes of his tight backside stuck out at just the appropriate angle. Time for a little fun.

“I don’t want to hear a peep from you , Midas. Not one squeak. Do you understand me?”

He had the good sense to nod his answer.

“Excellent.”

There was no way any amount of punishment she could dish out would hurt the SEAL. She was too small to deliver any blow that could provide much more than a good sting. Hardly the kind of play needing a safe word.

Angie placed a fingernail on the right side of his ass and lightly scratched a line on his skin to the left. An explosion of goose bumps rose over his bare back.

Nice.

His reaction encouraged her to brush her palms up his spine to his shoulders. The way back down, she raked her nails over his shoulder blades and on to the fleshy part of his waist, not stopping until she found the curve beneath his butt cheek.

While hunched over him, she reached between his legs and cupped his balls. She’d expected him to utter some low moan some other guttural noise. Other than a quick inhale and a long exhale, he remained quiet. Pleased with his control, she massaged his soft nads and gently pulled. Again, he said nothing.

Did SEALs go through sexual torture training? She’d have to ask. Later.

She found his cock and did her best to wrap her fingers around its girth. Only the tips of her middle finger and thumb touched.

Impressive.

When she started stroking, his head fell forward onto the mattress and his knees slightly bent. She released her hold and gave one of his ass cheeks a solid smack, followed immediately by another thwack to the other cheek.

She nearly roared with laughter when she heard his muffled but enthusiastic, “Fuck yeah!”

“You aren’t being quiet, naughty boy,” she chided when she controlled her chuckles. “Do I need to spank you again?”

He turned his face from the mattress. “Do what you gotta do.”

As much as she would love to give his booty another good whack, the two she’d already struck stung her hand like nobody’s business. He clearly liked to be paddled though. Why not give the guy more? She certainly didn’t mind reddening his backside.

Angie glanced around the room and found a pair of flip-flops that had been tossed carelessly on the floor. After retrieving one sandal and brushing off sand from its sole, she tapped the flimsy shoe in her palm.