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SEAL Brotherhood 06 - SEAL My Destiny Page 2
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He was locked in her tangle of arms and legs, loving the smell of her arousal and the sound of her breath. He felt her soft flesh against his thighs, against his chest while he hovered over her, digging deep and having as much of her as he could. He couldn’t stop long enough right now to properly take his time and explore. That would have to come later. Now it was all about having her or he’d die trying. Or explode like an IED.
She turned her face in profile to him while he continued to pump her from behind. Her lips pursed in an O of heightened arousal, and when he saw goose bumps wash up her arms, he couldn’t resist leaning over to kiss her bunched-up lips. Her eyes grew wide in reaction while he filled her, needed her more than he would ever be able to say. He kissed her through her moans, claimed her mouth, all of her.
She rose up on her knees, arched her back, pushing her butt into his groin, begging him to go deeper still. She threw her head back onto his shoulder, panting, pulling him into her with her fingers clutching his butt cheeks. He wanted to ram so far in he’d be blinded to everything else in the room.
Her spasms tightened around him. She held her breath, then shuddered, and groaned into her release. And he was right there with her, thrusting from behind and then holding firm until he could pump out every drop.
This was the part when he always got uncomfortable. Several heartbeats later, he wanted to say something. Something other than “thanks” or “that was great.” But again, it was prudent not to say anything at all. He continued to taste and kiss and rub himself against her, every bit of her he could feel. This had been way too fast. He hoped she wasn’t disappointed.
She didn’t look like she minded. Besides, he had a plan for making it up to her.
He delicately flipped her over on her back, kissed the salty hollow between her shoulder and neck, and she groaned again when he re-entered her. Her skin was like silk. His tongue easily traced a path down over both her nipples, suckling them slowly, first the right and then the left. Her fingers sifted through his scalp. She traced the arch of his ears, then pulled his face to hers and begged for a deep, penetrating kiss, and he was only too glad to provide.
He’d fuck her until the moon rose and set, and then fuck her again at dawn and through breakfast if she would let him.
Fuck breakfast. Fuck lunch. Fuck dinner.
He’d found her. He’d finally found her, that woman from his dreams. He’d watched her walk with that tall, confident gait only the right woman for him could have. She was someone he could love and love hard. She could love all the sand and dust and death off him. She would let him show her how much he needed this connection.
And she wouldn’t run away.
He was caught, entangled, willingly dying those thousand little deaths as she kissed him. His real flesh and blood dream woman breathing life into him.
Again.
And he would never let her go.
Well, at least not until tomorrow or the next day.
Chapter 2
‡
Julie woke up to the feel of his lips on her chest. His gentle touch didn’t startle her. He was leading her from sleep to the pleasure of his morning, and, even though her dreams had been wonderful, this was better, much better.
She hadn’t seen his face clearly last night in the dark, but her hands had traveled over his body hungrily, and she felt she knew him, all of him. As he looked up at her, she saw he was more handsome than she’d imagined. Clear, icy-blue eyes and dark brown hair, dark stubble on his cheeks and around full, sensual lips, his bare shoulders revealing powerful, muscles rippling under satiny skin.
“Good morning,” he said.
“It kinda is a good morning, isn’t it?” She traced his bottom lip with her forefinger. The weight of his chest against her breasts was delicious. She could feel his heartbeat and hear the rumble of his steady inhale and exhale. She liked him even better in the light of day.
She could tell he wanted to ask her things, talk to her, and she liked that about him. Their lovemaking had been fierce and consuming. He played her body like he’d done it for years. She wondered how he’d managed to do that.
He’s an experienced lover. That must be the answer. The little niggling of doubt crept in, wondering if she’d satisfied him. Seeing his gentle smile and feeling the way his thumbs tenderly caressed her forehead, the way he brushed the backs of his fingers against her cheek, sent her the message he’d been pleased. Wanted more, but didn’t want to show it. Was waiting for her move, and boy, that was sexy as hell.
“What are you thinking, beautiful?” he asked.
“I was thinking about you. Wondering where you’d come from, and what brought you to the beach last night, how come we crossed paths,” she swallowed, “like we did.” She blushed and saw his lips arch up at the corners while his eyes laughed.
“We did. We certainly did, didn’t we?”
She tried not to grin. He was making her hot for him all over again.
“I think we both needed something,” she said, and immediately regretted it.
He lowered himself to whisper to her lips, “I certainly did, and you certainly delivered.”
Wow. Just holy fuckin’ wow. Did he just say that? She rolled it around in her mind. It was okay that a hookup could be beautiful. That she would be left wanting more. But she’d never done this before, jumped into bed with someone so quickly. Recognized the need within her own body and found that missing piece in the arms of another. She’d always thought of herself as a cautious girl, and even a little afraid of love. What had made her say the things she’d said, do the things she’d done?
It was like some part of her had been revealed, a part she’d had no idea existed.
The familiar panic of second thoughts set in, and she caught herself reconsidering choices and decisions she normally made so carefully. She’d thrown caution to the wind, and had found something that was deep and in need of roots to grow. But it came with huge risks. She could get hurt.
He could too. She took out her internal disclosure statement, and, yup, she’d signed it and printed her name underneath in blood. That statement had prepared her for all the negative things that could happen, had saved her from the heartache of never getting that phone call the next day, the next week.
Or worse, thinking he could be somebody he wasn’t, like the young Navy recruit she’d met last year in San Diego, who told her he loved her; only it turned out he was a serial liar and had girls lined up in every port all over the world. Either way, her internal disclosure was supposed to protect her from falling for the wrong guy.
He was too handsome, too beautiful as a lover, to be wandering around unattached.
“Where’d you go, darlin’?” He had a slight southern accent she’d just picked up on.
“Where are you from?”
“Here.”
“No, I mean where did you grow up?”
“In a house, with my mom and dad and little sister. All over the U.S.”
Little alarm bells began to flash. He was being secretive. Didn’t want her to know personal details. It was not a good sign.
“You?” he asked.
“California native. I grew up in the North Bay area.”
“Ah! She reveals herself.” He kissed her gently. “Never been there, but I’ve had friends tell me it’s a beautiful part of paradise.”
“It is. My folks still live there.” She was hoping that might spur him on to tell her more about him. But that wasn’t going to happen.
He was watching the rise and fall of her chest. Was he making fun of her? Why had he answered so vaguely? She decided to be a little more direct. “Explain what ‘everywhere’ means, please.”
He kissed her just under her right ear, right where it made her sex ache for him all over again. He’d found several of her spots. Holy cow, the guy was a sex machine.
He kept kissing her. “There’s not much to tell. We lived all over the place. My dad was military.” His knee rubbed over her thigh, moving
up slowly on the bed until her wet peach was resting right on it. He moved back and forth until she was so hot for him he could probably feel the vibration coming from between her legs as he stroked her.
She was getting dizzy with desire.
She fingered his tats. He had a Celtic band across his bicep. A Fear/Faith scripted tat over his heart. What looked like maybe frog prints from his wrist to his elbow. The number 5326 on his other bicep. She’d seen the large skull tat on his back with something written under it in Latin. That one she could go look up later. So she chose the 5326 and brushed her fingers over it.
“Tell me about his one.”
“It’s the prime directive.”
His face was deadly serious. She was looking for some hint, some help, so she could understand him. The number meant something.
“Directive for what?” she finally asked. That made him grin, showing blindingly white teeth. He licked his lips.
“All beautiful women must be made love to as often as possible. The directive to stay in bed all day. Not to eat. Not to sleep.”
“All? All day?” She sounded like a teenager for a second. Did he notice?
He nodded. God, how she loved those honest blue eyes.
“And how many of those do you claim? I mean, do you do this often?” She hoped it didn’t sound jealous, but right now, lying underneath him, she didn’t want anyone else in the picture. There certainly wasn’t anyone else in hers.
“You caught me at a good time. I’m completely alone. And I’ve just come back from overseas.” He was not smiling.
“So does 5326 specify what I’m supposed to do?” She softened her question by lifting her head and meeting his lips gently and then lying back to watch him take it all in.
He was moving his callused palms over her shoulders, splaying his fingers up the side of her neck and into her hair, clutching, drawing her up to meet his lips again. Into her ear, he said, “How long can you go without food?”
Chapter 3
‡
A knock on the door followed by a key card woke him up. He’d forgotten about the checkout time for the room…it’d been lost somewhere between their lovemaking and his need for sleep to regenerate. He didn’t want to wake her, so eased out of bed and was headed to the door to lock it when the maid opened it wide, and shrieked at the sight of him standing there fully naked.
Luke grabbed a towel from the bathroom and wrapped it around his waist.
Of course, she hadn’t slept through the little drama at the front door. She was smiling up at him, angling her head.
“Forgot about housekeeping,” he said with a shrug.
“I’ll bet you made her day.”
Okay, he liked that. “I’m sure she’s seen worse,” he said honestly.
She sat up, pulling the sheet up over her chest, and he figured it was because he’d covered himself up with the towel.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
She twisted her long hair, brought her knees to her chest under the covers, and closed her eyes. “Starved.”
“Shower?”
“Love to.” She uncovered, showing the flat tummy and abundant breasts that were more than a handful, but just right. She had hips, and a nice ass but narrow waist. She wasn’t overly buff or cut, but well toned, and had the softest skin he’d ever known. His package was coming to life while she walked in front of him, and when she allowed her hip to touch his member ever so slightly, it jacked his libido into a bonfire.
She got as far as the shower curtain before he could grab her arm and draw her tight against his chest. He got lost in the deep kiss he urgently initiated. His hand fisted in the back of her hair, and her little mewling sounds drove him to pull her tighter.
She melted against him, all her curves and valleys blending to complement his hardness. He was breathless, his heart slamming against his ribcage. He wondered if they should consider not going out, but willed himself to separate from her and search her face.
He didn’t even know her name. He suddenly didn’t want to ask her. That was such bad form. Wasn’t the guy supposed to ask all those questions before having getting busy? He couldn’t remember ever screwing up this way, and what would she think if he asked her now?
He decided just to kiss her again and forget about it until later.
She initiated the sex in the shower. He decided he’d try to pretend it was a welcome surprise, but it was secretly what he’d been wishing forever since the maid woke them up. What a perfect way to begin a Saturday morning.
He waited until their coffee arrived before he asked her.
“I’m a little embarrassed about this, but I don’t even know your name.”
He was relieved to see she smiled without appearing to take offense. “I was just thinking the same thing.”
He sorted through all the things they’d done in less than twenty-four hours, and then had to look down at his coffee mug or he’d do a very unmanly thing: blush.
She reached across the little Formica table. “Hi. My name is Julie.”
He took her hand. “And I’m Luke.”
“Nice to meet you, Luke.”
“Likewise.”
She placed her hand back in her lap, took a deep breath and let it all out again. Picking up her cappuccino, she said, “Well, that’s better, then.”
He was thinking it was a little backwards, but he wasn’t going to complain. “So, Julie, what do you do?”
“I’m a teacher.”
He nearly spit out his coffee. “No way.”
He could see she didn’t particularly like his reaction. “Sorry.” He softened his gaze, enjoying the way her curls framed her beautiful face. And then nerves crashed in on his blissful morning.
“You don’t think teachers like to have a little fun?”
“Not the teachers I had.” Don’t want to think about the teachers I knew.
“Well it’s not like we watch porn in the classroom.” She tilted her head, watching him out of the corners of her eyes.
“You watch porn, too—when you’re not in the classroom, that is?”
“No, silly. But I do like erotic films, you know.”
Well…all righty, then. He wondered what those films were. But instead of going there, his need to get his bearings kicked in and he asked, “So you teach high school, college level?”
She laughed. “No. Second grade.”
That did make him spit out his coffee. He was quick to cover his mouth with a napkin.
Damn. Just my damned luck.
“I’m sorry, but why is this a problem for you?” she asked. She was not smiling.
“It’s not a problem for me. It’s just that—” He didn’t want to tell her that his last girlfriend had been a teacher. And that relationship had ended badly, tragically. He searched for something she could buy that would keep her from digging any further. “I don’t get along very well with teachers. Even when I was a student I didn’t.”
“Apparently that’s not true.”
Her eyes danced when she smiled. He loved that part of her, but his insides were thickening and getting dark. He felt it coming on. He tried to sound casual, tried not to show it.
Please drop the subject, Julie. Please.
“I thought we got along very well last night,” she said with a smile wiggling her eyebrows up and down.
He had to agree. The sex had been fantastic. But that was before he learned she was a teacher.
“You have kids?” she asked.
He winced. Why couldn’t she stop with the questions? “No. I’m not even married.”
“That has nothing to do with having kids.”
That was true, but it pissed him off that she’d asked.
Don’t go there. Remember your boundaries.
One of the men on SEAL Team 3 had five children out of wedlock with three different mothers. “The answers are no, and no.” He could feel his defenses spring to life. That protective shell was slamming into place around his heart, placi
ng armor all around it. He could almost hear the hinges squeaking from disuse. It was automatic. Nothing he could do to stop it.
“So, what do you do?”
Well darn it, there it was again. Luke wasn’t in the habit of telling people he was a SEAL, or even that he was in the Navy, since they wouldn’t believe him anyway, due to his longer than military-grade haircut. He gave her the line he told most women, “I’m a Fed Ex driver.” He was hoping she’d buy it and then just drop all the questions.
“No way you’re a FedEx Driver.”
“I still can’t believe you’re a teacher.” Her instincts were good, he thought. But there was no way in hell he was going to tell her he was a SEAL.
“Why is that so hard for you to believe? Didn’t you think teachers like to have fun?”
He tried to deliver his response so she’d just leave it all alone. He sucked it up and answered, “Just doesn’t fit the image. And I’ve dated a few teachers. And they definitely weren’t into having sex on the beach.” After he’d said it, he wondered if it had been a smart move. Maybe he was showing too much of his callused, damaged side. “Julie, look, I’m sorry. That sounded, um.”
The waitress appeared at the table and took their order.
After she left, Julie was smiling down at her coffee. “You know, we didn’t have sex on the beach. You took me to a motel, remember?”
“Well, yes.”
So far so good. Maybe we can still weather this conversation.
“Okay, so architects and FedEx Drivers can meet a girl and want to have sex with her. Doctors can do it. Coeds, maybe military types,” she looked up at him and grinned, “those tats, by the way, look oddly suspicious—all these people can hook up on the beach, but a teacher can’t? Don’t you see what’s wrong with that picture?”
She had a point, but he wished she’d stop using that word teacher. “Okay, I agree with you. Maybe I do have some preconceived ideas, and maybe that’s unfair of me. Concerning t—” He couldn’t even say the word now. His mind raced to find something else they could talk about. “Now, librarians—”