At Her SEAL's Command (SEALs of Roseville, Book One) (3 page)

T
hat evening
, Dylan strode through the back door, caked in mud and sweat, praying for another meal like the paella. But the house was quiet and no delicious scents wafted from the kitchen.

His disappointment was short lived. Reya breezed into the living room, hair swept up in a messy do that left bits and pieces cascading around her neck and face. The cherry red blouse stretched across her breasts and a deep V showed off killer cleavage. The skirt hid her thighs but showed off her calves.

“Going out?”

She fiddled with an earring. “Mmm huh. And you're coming with me. We're going to hang out with people who actually want to hang out with us.” She strode toward him as she spoke.

He memorized the swing of her hips, longed to say
forget about hanging out, let's stay in
. His palms itched to slide around her waist and pull her close. He wanted to find out if she tasted as good as she smelled, if her skin was as smooth as he imagined.

But those were bad ideas. Dangerous ideas. Even with Teo's endorsement ringing in his ears, he knew she'd have a hard time understanding his darker side, his strange tastes. Besides, what did he have to offer her?

She was a friend, a temporary roommate and for the first time in almost twenty years, he wasn’t sure what he was going to do with his life. The indecision chafed worse than the sands of Iraq.

She headed into the kitchen, swatting his ass as she went by. “Go shower. We leave at...” she glanced at the clock and seemed to do some mental math. “Nineteen hundred hours.”

Her attempt to sound all tough made him smile all the way to the shower. Halfway through said shower he heard the door open.

“Dylan, sorry, I forgot my lipstick.”

Just knowing she was on the other side of the curtain was torturous. In some ways more so than anything he'd experienced since boot camp.

All he had to do was slide back the curtain and reach for her. She'd reached for him earlier. That kiss had knocked his socks off. But he was naked and she had plans. Plans that didn't involve getting off in the shower.

Or did they?

The door clicked shut and he let out a breath. Disaster averted. For the moment, anyway. But his cock was down with quickie shower sex and as much as he hated to let that particular part of his anatomy rule him, he knew he was going to have a hard time controlling it with her dressed like she was.

Somehow, he wasn't sure how, he managed to keep his cock in check. It was hard when Reya nestled closer to accommodate a late comer, her thigh pressed against his. They were bunched around a small table at the little coffee shop they’d fallen in love with in downtown Roseville.

The owner, Jillian, approached the table. She was pretty in a retro sort of way and she always seemed to have a smile for her customers.

“Hi everyone. I’m Jill. I’ll be taking care of you.” She took everyone’s order, mentioned the specials and hustled off toward the small kitchen.

Dylan draped an arm over the back of Reya’s chair and she stayed glued to his side, talking and joking, pulling him into the conversation with the charm of a diplomat.

Several cups of coffee and a great dinner later, her girlfriends talked about going to a club. He was too old for that type of event and the club he belonged to would curl their eyelashes.

He was relieved when they decided work would come early and they'd had enough fun for one night. But as he drove home, he couldn't stop thinking about how easy it was to be with Reya. Everything about their evening had felt completely natural, as if they were an ordinary couple enjoying a night out with their friends.

His body could be forgiven for thinking that the evening wouldn't stop with a goodnight kiss on the front stoop.

But that was a dangerous line of thought. Pursuing Reya meant coming clean with her and deciding on his future. Did he stay in Atlanta or head somewhere else? He longed to stop with the limbo crap, yearned to make up his mind.

Despite Teo’s blessing, he wasn’t sure he wanted to pursue her when he had nothing concrete to offer her. Sure, he had savings and a house, but at the moment, little motivation or direction other than getting Mabel’s home ready to sell. The depression he’d suffered from since the accident was easing slowly. Too slowly.

And what about her job possibility in Switzerland?

“Have you had any luck with the apartment hunt?” he asked. She’d said she only needed a place to stay for a little while and had mentioned getting a corporate apartment. But since then, she hadn’t said a word.

He felt the instant change in her, the freeze as she went from happy and bubbly to cool and distant.

“No. Not yet.”

“Let me know if you need any help.” Not that he had a clue what he could do to help, but offering her his assistance was as second nature as breathing.

“Thanks.”

The night didn't end in a good night kiss. She thanked him for a great evening, murmured a few pleasantries and then disappeared into her room. The click of the door sounded final and ominous and he was left wondering why she'd shut down like that.

She knew that he was selling the house.

Standing in the dim hallway, he debated with himself. Did he knock on her door? Go to bed? He hated indecision; he hated feeling conflicted about his decisions.

But this house wasn’t for him. He knew that, he’d known that since Gram said she was leaving it to him. Luckily, she’d never expected him to keep it and make a home here. But where?

The best compass in the world is in the middle of your chest, child.

Grandma Mabel’s words haunted him but he knew she was right. She’d been right about so many things. But what did he do when what he wanted contradicted with what he needed?

T
he next morning
, Dylan woke refreshed and full of energy. He was still working out his game plan, but it started with coffee. Lots and lots of coffee. He put a pot on and ate a bowl of cereal. Early morning light streamed through the front windows, emphasizing just how dirty they were. One more thing to add to his to do list, one more thing he'd do later.

Mug in hand, he headed back to his room. Perseus' team was planting grass and aerating the front yard today. Dylan was going to take care of adding a few shrubs to the back yard and then he was calling the yard done.

After finishing his coffee, he grabbed a change of clothes and headed for the bathroom. He collided with Reya who squeaked in surprise. Dropping the clothes from his hands, he clasped her upper arms to steady her. She clutched a towel around her chest. Her hair was wet, loose around her shoulders and her gorgeous brown eyes were wide.

“Sorry,” she murmured.

“No one's fault. Good morning.”

“Morning.”

“There's coffee.”

She nodded and he could see that she was still not quite herself. He had no idea how to fix it, but he was going to do as Gram said and listen to his heart.

Pulling her closer, he watched her for any signs of distress.

“You'll have to forgive me for whatever I said to put those clouds in your eyes.”

“I do, do I?”

Ahh, there was a little bit of her spark.

He nodded.

“Why?”

“Because I said so.” He cupped her cheek and slanted his lips against hers. She moaned and ran her hands up his chest.

Inside, he roared with victory. She'd given in so easily, as if she wanted his kiss as much as he wanted to kiss her. He only hoped that was the case because she was quickly becoming an addiction.

He slid his other hand lower and encountered a damp towel. Her hips pressed against his and the beginning of an erection blossomed against his boxers. As if sensing his condition, she undulated against him, her body doing a sexy little shimmy as she made eager sounds in her throat.

The tip of her tongue touched his lips and he was blown away by her eagerness. Tightening his grip on the back of her head, he parted his lips and sucked her tongue inside. Her whole body froze for a split second. Then she moaned.

She came to life again, all of her moving against him as if she could merge with him. It took his breath away.

A loud noise outside made him jerk back and spin her toward the inside wall. While his muscles were acting on memory, his brain knew that there was likely no danger, but that didn’t stop his heart from accelerating or adrenaline trickling into his system.

“Sorry,” he murmured.

“It’s okay.” She ran a soothing hand down his cheek.

He tamped down on the frustration that always assailed him following a loud noise and his instinctive reaction. Then he reminded himself that it was going to take years, not weeks, to stop reacting the way he’d been trained to.

“Flashback?”

He shook his head. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. But dammit, it felt so right, she felt so right. And hadn’t he waited long enough, sacrificed enough?

The knock on the front door further cooled his ardor.

“That’s probably Perseus.”

She nodded but made no move toward her room.

“I don’t want to do yard work today.”

“I don’t want to manage a bunch of geeks today,” she said, her lips curving in a soft smile that bewitched him.

He could happily go for the rest of his life seeing that smile every day. The realization should have shocked him. He’d always put off thinking of the long term, but it seemed like with her under his roof, he couldn’t
not
think about where he wanted to be a year from now.

“I guess we kind of have to, don’t we?”

She nodded. “Yep.”

“See you at lunch?”

“You just want me to cook,” she teased.

“I just want to kiss you again.”

Her smile turned to a sexy little pout. “I’m not stopping you.”

He leaned forward and another knock interrupted them.

Sighing, he pushed away from her. After entering his room, he pulled on some pants and then returned to the hallway. She was still there, a little dreamy eyed as she held the towel up.

“What time is your lunch?” he asked, pausing in front of her.

“Eleven thirty.”

“I’ll see you at eleven thirty, then.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, knowing if he went for her lips he wouldn’t be able to stop.

“Be careful out there,” she called as he went to answer the door.

Yes, he could definitely get used to a sendoff like that.

R
eya was so focused
on work that she didn't realize it was eleven thirty until Dylan came through the back door. He was shirtless, again, and had an adorable smudge of dirt across his left cheek.

She popped up from her chair and made a beeline to the kitchen. “Sorry, I got wrapped up with work. Let me start on lunch.”

He snagged a hand around her waist and pulled her to him. She went willingly. But when it came to Dylan Harper, she'd never fought her attraction to him.

“We're going out for lunch.”

“We are?” Since when?

“I'm taking you out. I've got to stop by the paint store anyway. This way, we get to eat and you don't have to cook.”

“But I like cooking.” Correction, she liked cooking for him. She liked hearing his stomach growl. She enjoyed seeing the look of pleasure on his face when he tasted something she'd prepared. And she loved his exclamations.

“And I like to eat your food.”

“If we're going out, don't you need a shirt?” she asked, flexing her fingers against his amazing pecs. “Not that I'm complaining.”

“You're not, huh?”

Oh dear. When he looked at her like that she was one heartbeat away from stripping naked, to hell with who could see her through the kitchen window.

“Nope,” she squeaked as he pressed a rock solid erection against her belly.

“I'll go put on a shirt.”

Her gaze narrowed on the smudge of dirt.

“What?” he asked.

Reaching up, she swiped at it with her thumb. He leaned into her touch and bubbles of delight zinged through her like champagne. This...him...it was all so perfect.

“Just some dirt. I got it.”

“I want to kiss you.” The words tumbled from his lips as he stared at hers.

Laughter bubbled up inside her. “Are you asking for permission?”

“Hell no.”

For some reason she couldn't begin to explain, it really turned her on when he was all gruff and bossy. Perhaps it was because he'd always been so sweet and tender with her. The possessive, dominant side of him was new. Sure, she'd known it'd always been there. He was an alpha to his core, but he'd never used that side on her.

And yet, when Teo threw his weight around, she always resisted. Would she grow tired of Dylan's control?

“But if I start, I don't think I'll be able to stop.”

“And that's a bad thing?” She couldn't think of anything better than spending the afternoon in his arms, his lips on hers.

“Ordinarily, no. But I'm supposed to help Joe later and my order's ready at the paint store. All of which means, I won't have ample time to kiss you.”

By the way he pressed his hips against her belly she didn't think he intended to stop at kissing.

And that was fine with her.

“I'm not going anywhere, Dylan.” At least, not this week. They really needed to discuss that, but at the same time she didn’t want to think about leaving him. What she wanted was to focus on her plan for seduction.

“Good.”

They shared a picnic table in the park and a Cuban sandwich from a quaint deli. 

Reya felt like she was dreaming. The whole day could have been plucked out of her teen aged fantasies. She was certainly a far cry from the hungry foster kid she'd once been. 

Back then she'd only imagined days like this one. A quiet date, a perfect summer's day, good food, and complete stability. 

But reality had a way of rearing its head. She’d need to find a place to rent in Switzerland. On the other hand, wasn't she getting a little old to be renting especially when house prices had never been lower? It was silly of course, to be thinking about buying a house when she was planning to travel.

“What's got your wheels spinning over there?”

“Thinking about buying versus renting.”

He took a sip of his Coke. “That's a big step.”

“No kidding. I can already hear Teo. 'Why do you want to buy? You're a single woman. Who's going to do the maintenance? I'm not going to be there to help.'”

Dylan laughed. What a beautiful sound. She tried not to think of all the time he'd spent in scary places doing dangerous things without smiling or laughing or doing anything enjoyable. And while she hated that he hadn't left the SEALs voluntarily, she was beyond thrilled to have him home, laughing, and relaxing.

“You sound just like him,” he said, his blue eyes sparkling.

“I hear his voice in my head often enough.”

“I know it's been hard on you, having him gone so much.”

“Even when he's home, he's not always here.”

D
ylan nodded
. He often found himself drifting into the past.

“It wasn't just Teo, though.”

“What do you mean?”

“I've missed you too.”

She held eye contact and he felt something shift between them. Something small and yet significant.

“I missed you too.” Probably more than she'd ever know. “I thought about you a lot. You represented home, normalcy.”

She blinked several times. 

“That's...I like that.”

He wouldn't tell her what he thought about. He'd show her. 

“You done?”

He glanced at the sandwich she hadn't touched in several minutes.

Nodding, she folded the wrapper and stood. “I'll finish it later.”

Normally, he would have chatted with the folks at the paint store, but today, he wanted to get Reya home. He told himself to take it slow. They’d barely had time to get to know each other again.

And yet, it didn’t feel that way at all. If she were any other woman, he’d know exactly how this day would end. With any other woman he wouldn’t be second guessing himself every damn minute. He’d take her home, wrap her in ribbons and make her come until she fell asleep, then after she’d rested, he’d find his pleasure in her arms.

But she was Reya. Sweet, sensual, fire cracker who he’d known for fifteen years. She was his best friend’s little sister and even though Teo seemed to think that Dylan was just what Reya needed, he knew that he couldn’t afford to mess either relationship up.

He loved them both like family, couldn’t imagine his life without them.

R
eya sighed
and stretched after her three thirty call ended. She was pleased with the progress and sent off an email to her boss that she expected the project to wrap early next week.

After a stop at the fridge for a glass of lemonade, she poked her head out back. It was amazing what Perseus had been able to accomplish in two days. The thick, jungle-like brush was cleared out of the backyard. She could see Mable's fence again. The flowerbeds surrounding the yard were empty, except for the one running the length of the house.

Dylan had planted some sort of shrub there. And Perseus's team had put down grass seed and straw by the look of things. A sprinkler was currently watering the back half of the space.

Since Dylan wasn't out back, she turned into the house and searched him out.

“Hey,” she said, poking her head through the doorway of his room.

He'd moved all the furniture to the middle of the floor and draped a tarp over it. Two of the four walls had a fresh coat of a soft cream paint on them that made the space feel brighter, happier and calmer than before.

“Looks great.”

“Thanks.”

She'd noticed the change in him after lunch. Somewhere between the paint store and home, he'd had a conversation with himself because he hadn't touched her again. Hadn't kissed her, and even now, he seemed to be holding himself in check.

She stepped deeper into the room. The air smelled faintly of paint, thanks to the special type he'd purchased that promised to be low odor. “I'm done corralling geeks for the day, so put me to work.”

His lips twitched as she'd known they would.

“Okay.” He nodded once and reached for something on the stack of furniture. “Put this on.”

It was an old long sleeved button up shirt. Once she’d finished buttoning it up, he handed over the roller. “Have at it,” he waved to the wall where he'd already outlined with paint.

She longed to drop the roller, close the distance between them and run her hands up his magnificent chest. Sometimes he hardly seemed real, more like a figment of her imagination come to life. But she was certainly not imagining the heated look in his eyes or the way he stared at her bare legs like he wanted them wrapped around his waist.

Instead of giving in, she decided to see what he'd do.

“I've never done this before.”

“Done what?” his deep voice rumbled behind her.

“Painted a room. Well, painted much of anything. I think finger-painting was my last experience. Somehow, I think that'd take forever.”

His chuckle sounded so close it gave her shivers; then his arms came around her and he closed his hands over hers on the roller handle.

“Like this,” he whispered against her ear. A delighted tremor quaked through her as every nerve ending stood and cheered. Her attention zoomed from where his skin touched hers to the aching points of her breasts and then south to the need that filled her like a heavy weight.

He pressed the roller against the wall and pushed it up and down in a wide W pattern, then back again filling in the empty spots. “Like this, over and over. You want this much paint so you don't splatter.”

All her brain heard was 'dip it', 'splatter' and ‘over and over.’ Another shiver stole down her spine and this time he must have felt it because he pressed closer against her back.

“Okay?”

“Mmm huh,” she replied, not sure she could trust her voice or her lips.

She was more than okay. She was blissing out and he was hardly touching her.

He didn't remove his hands, even after several passes. They'd made a large cream square in the middle of the dingy baby blue wall. She couldn't help but smile. 

He might be sorting things out in his mind but his body was firmly on board. A thick, hard erection pressed against her backside. 

“I think we need more paint,” she murmured. 

He froze, every muscle going rigid. His arms were locked around her.

For a moment she couldn't tell where she ended and he began. It felt so incredibly good to be held like this, but she wanted more. She wanted a real connection, not just a painting lesson. She wanted all the things she’d dreamed about for so many years.

“Right.”

He dropped his arms and took a step back. She turned toward the paint tray but he halted her with a hand on her forearm. A quick jerk had her flattened against him as he cupped her jaw. The paint roller tumbled from her hand and a curse swooshed from her lips.

“Don't worry about it,” he ground out as his head descended.

His kiss was hot and demanding, not at all nurturing. Consuming, exactly what she wanted, surrounding to him. His hands held her exactly how he wanted her so all she could do was hang on tight and kiss him back.

He took three steps forward, driving her backward until she hit the wall. He ground his hips against hers and she moaned.

“Tell me to stop, Reya. If you don't—”

Pulling his head back down, she slanted her lips against his. “Is that enough of an answer for you?” she murmured a while later.

His groan sounded more like a growl but it delighted her. Then he was kissing her again, drinking from her lips as he let his hands roam. She touched everywhere she could as she hiked a leg over his hip.

Yes. This was exactly where she'd always wanted to be, whom she wanted to be with and the way his thumbs drew lazy circles over her hips was far more enticing than anything she'd ever imagined.

He slid his hands up her sides and undid her top button. Leaning back a fraction, he continued his task, his fingers brushing against the insides of her breasts. She sucked in a breath, oh so ready and completely eager to feel his hands there.

Her nipples formed hard peaks begging for his touch. But he didn't pay them any attention. He just continued with the buttons until the shirt hung open. Another growl/groan rumbled from him as he trailed a kiss down her neck.

She glanced at the textured ceiling amazed that this was finally happening. Dylan's dark hair brushed her jaw as he nipped his way across her collarbone.

He seemed to know exactly where to touch her to get her to suck in a breath. Every brush of his fingertips ramped up her excitement. Across the tops of her breasts, due south across her stomach and then out over her sides before sliding down to cup her ass.

Moaning, she tightened her fingers in his hair. He’d always had gorgeous, dark hair. Thick and slightly wavy, she’d fantasized about sinking her fingers into it for years. The reality was just as she’d suspected. It was softer than it looked.

He trailed his lips down to where her collarbones met and then nibbled his way up the other side until he nipped her earlobe.

“You are so hot,” he murmured against her skin.

“Mmm… ditto.”

“And I’ve wanted you for longer than is decent.”

She smiled and another, thicker wave of lust washed through her.

“Ditto to that too.”

He pulled back and stared into her eyes. What was he looking for? She wasn’t sure and she didn’t know if he found whatever it was but it was like he couldn’t help himself because he stared at her lips for several moments. And then he was kissing her again.

His hands pushed the shirt off her shoulders and he ran his tongue along the top and gently bit the spot where her arm and shoulder met. Her hips jolted against his. Surprise and shock met as the tiny moment of pain turned into something primitive and hot. Suddenly, she couldn’t stand anything separating them.

Squirming against him, writhing in his arms, she touched everywhere she could. Tugging his shirt up, she helped him discard it. She had just a second, which was way too short for her, to take in the delicious sight. What was it about a shirtless man in low slung jeans?

Then he was pressed against her again until she was pinned against the wall.

“You’re going to be covered in paint,” he said, his lips a hair’s width from hers. He didn’t sound the least bit remorseful about that.

Her insides quivered at the way his mouth brushed hers. Provocative and breathtaking.