Protected by a SEAL (Alpha SEALs, Book 6) (11 page)

“How do you want me, baby?” Brent asked
huskily, lifting her leg slightly to kiss her ankle.

“Huh?” she gasped as his hand wrapped fully
around her ankle and he began kissing his way back up her leg. The
idea of Brent’s hands holding her legs apart, spreading her wide,
was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. This man could
break her in an instant, and although she knew he’d never harm a
woman, there was something arousing about all his strength and
power. He was asking her questions but fully in control. And she
was at his mercy.

“Tell me your favorite position. I’ll take
you however you want,” he said between kisses. “You on top. Me on
top. Doggy style.”

He reached her inner thigh and lightly
nipped at her skin as Ella stiffened. She still hadn’t told him she
wasn’t very experienced. Here he was, listing an entire menu of sex
options, assuming she’d done it all before. Her face heated.

Brent glanced up, seemingly expecting a
response, and his gaze darkened as his eyes met hers. “Shit,” he
muttered, releasing her ankle and grabbing a blanket from the back
of the sofa. He quickly tossed it to her as he pulled away. “Have
you ever been with a man before?”

Embarrassment flooded through her, and she
clutched the blanket to her chest as she struggled to sit up. “Of
course I’ve had ex-boyfriends. I just—I’ve only had one serious
relationship.” Suddenly, she felt foolish sitting on the sofa in
her lacy panties while Brent stood before her fully clothed. The
regret flashed across his face was obvious. His intent to leave
crystal clear.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you. Shouldn’t have
come in here tonight—not when I promised to stay away. To never
fucking touch you.” He ran a hand through his cropped hair as he
shook his head.

Ella’s fists tightened in the blanket as her
heart pounded in her chest. Brent’s rejection stung. Had he changed
his mind because he knew she was not as experienced as the women he
was usually with? Or did he just not want
her
?

She couldn’t even get up and stomp around
and yell at him because she wasn’t wearing any clothing.

Damn him.

Damn her for even letting him in here.

“You didn’t seem to mind it a second ago,”
she pointed out sarcastically.

“I’m not the man for you, Ella,” he said,
his voice gravel. The lust in his eyes and way his chest heaved
gave him away though. He wanted her but still was going to leave.
Wasn’t interested in her enough to stay.

“I wasn’t exactly expecting you to get down
on one knee.”

“I’m too old for you. And not the type of
man for you to be with. I’m so fucking wrong for you it’s
ridiculous,” he said, angrily pacing in front of her.

“So why the hell are you in here kissing me
like you’ve never been with a woman before?” she snapped.

He smirked, irritated at her. No, it was
more like he was…laughing at her. Of course. Because he was the one
with the playboy reputation. The bad boy of the SEAL team. And she
was the one who’d only had one serious boyfriend.

“Men who’ve never been with a woman don’t
kiss like that, sweetheart.”

She flushed, anger and embarrassment
coursing through her. “You know what I mean.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure Matthew will kick my
ass for this. Brianna, too. I shouldn’t have come in here and come
onto you like that. I’m not the guy you think I am.”

She glared at him. “Yeah, you’re kind of a
jerk. I guess the others were right.”

He looked stunned for a moment but took a
step backward, bending over to grab the keys that had somehow
fallen to the ground as they’d kissed their way through the front
door. “Lock the door when I go,” he said, tossing them onto the
coffee table and turning around. Four long strides and he was
already at the door. Pulling it open. Walking right out of her
life.

“Sorry,” he muttered, almost as an
afterthought.

His jacket was still lying outside where
he’d dropped it, almost like the way he’d discarded her.

Her jaw dropped open as the door slammed
shut, but she remained on the sofa, too mortified to even move. The
blanket she was clutching to her chest barely even covered her
breasts, and tears smarted in the corners of her eyes. He’d just
undressed her, kissed almost every inch of her body, then run out
the door like the place was on fire. Was this just some sort of a
game to him? To see how far he could take things? How easy it would
be to get her to sleep with him?

How could she have been so stupid?

Seconds ticked by, each feeling like an
eternity, and she finally rose from the sofa, snatching up the keys
on her way to the door. The apartment was dark, silent, and
suddenly empty as hell. The click as she turned the key in the lock
seemed to echo throughout the empty space. A lone sob escaped from
her, and she leaned her forehead against the door, trying to pull
herself together. Brent was an asshole, a womanizer. Just like
everyone had said he was. What had made her think she was any
different from his endless stream of conquests?

And was it better or worse that he’d refused
to have sex with her?

Against her better judgment, she peered
through the peephole and caught one last glance of Brent straddling
his Harley. He yanked the helmet over his head and briefly gazed in
her direction, before he looked away, revved the engine, and roared
off into the night.

Gone.

Just like every other man in her life.

Brent grumbled as he rode onto base the next
morning. The long, tree-lined road leading to Naval Amphibious Base
Little Creek was usually a pleasant ride, but he had a killer
headache. And for once it had nothing to do with being up all night
obsessing over the death of his sister.

The hurt look in Ella’s eyes last night
flashed through his mind, and he bit out a curse. Way to fucking
treat her with kid gloves—he’d pinned her against the front door
like she was his. Hauled her inside with every intention of fucking
her. Making her shatter beneath him. Maybe he’d started off with a
gentle kiss, but the moment he’d tasted those soft lips? It was
like need had exploded inside him. She was so damn sweet—exactly
what he needed to keep his nightmares at bay. He could’ve taken her
again and again all night long.

But he’d stopped when he’d realized just how
goddamn innocent she was.

Fucking hell.

His pulse pounded, and he was itching to
beat the shit out of someone. To pound out his frustration and
relieve the tension still coursing through his entire body. Too bad
his SEAL team wasn’t sparring today—just drilling out on the water.
Preparing for the next op. He needed to do something to get out of
his own head. A couple of rounds with some of the guys would’ve
done the trick. Or maybe getting in a ten-mile run down by the
water.

Too late for that now.

He flashed his military ID at the guards on
base and rolled into a parking spot, climbing off his bike just as
Christopher got out of his truck a few spaces down. Brent stashed
his helmet and slipped on his aviators, grabbing his bag of gear.
Usually a ride on his Harley cheered him up, but after a restless
night, it seemed like nothing would improve his mood this
morning.

“How was the pool hall last night?”
Christopher asked as he walked over.

“Smoked ‘em like always,” Brent said.

“Sonofabitch. What we need one of these days
is a poker night.”

“Like hell. Didn’t you figure out some
computer hack that helps you count cards? You should’ve come last
night if you wanted a game. Or were you too busy playing house with
the little lady?”

“Lexi would bust your balls for saying
that,” Christopher said good-naturedly as he fell in step beside
Brent. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind seeing that myself. Maybe tell
her the next time you see her, see how it goes over.”

“The woman is whip smart; I’ll give her
that. Don’t know if I want her near my balls though.”

Christopher chuckled. “What crawled up your
ass this morning? No, let me guess—you didn’t get laid. Off
night?”

“Didn’t realize you were so interested in my
sex life. Things cooling off already with Lexi?”

Mike caught up with them as they walked in
the locker room, snickering. “Just ignore his sorry ass, Blade,” he
said, calling Christopher by his nickname. “Brent was in a shit
mood for most of last night, too. Guy hasn’t figured out that when
you live with a woman, you’re guaranteed to score.”

Christopher dropped his gear down on the
bench. “Doesn’t exactly sound like Cobra’s style. Why commit to one
woman when you can have the whole damn town? Or is that the
problem—no new women to screw?”

“Assholes,” Brent muttered.

“Think the CO has info on our next op?” Mike
asked. “Ice seemed to think we’d be wheels up in a day or so. I
might have to make the most of my time with Kenley,” he added,
waggling his eyebrows. “I’m sure you’ll be cool with your flavor of
the week, Brent—or should I say pick of the night?”

“Do you want me to bust your jaw?” Brent
growled, clenching his fists. “Because that’s the kind of mood I’m
in today.”

“So you’re just your usual charming self,”
Christopher quipped. “And as to Mike’s question, Ice mentioned
something about that yesterday. No idea on the details though. Want
me to hack into the databases and find out?”

“Yeah, buddy, get yourself court-martialed
before we deploy. Always a choice move,” Mike laughed.

Christopher shrugged, and Brent bit back a
curse. Just when he’d told his brother Brock to come down for the
weekend, it sounded like they’d be leaving. It wasn’t exactly a
surprise—they were at Uncle Sam’s beck and call 24/7. Such was the
life of a SEAL. It was damn ironic though—he was gone when his
sister needed him, and he’d be gone again now with the anniversary
of her death approaching. Circle of life and all that shit.

Brent grabbed his gear for their day’s
training, the pit in his gut growing larger with every passing
minute. He wasn’t sure if it was about the upcoming weekend or the
bitter feelings he still had over last night. Way to woo a girl, he
thought. Piss her off, leave her lying half-naked on the sofa, and
race off into the night.

Do not pass go, do not collect $200.

It wasn’t exactly how nights usually ended
for him. He couldn’t even stop by to apologize to Ella since she
was leaving today. That and the fact that he’d never gone back to a
woman’s house the morning after. Ever.

The door to the locker room slammed against
the wall, and Matthew suddenly stormed in, looking angrier than
Brent had ever seen him. “What the fuck is your problem?” Matthew
accused, eyes blazing as he shoved Brent into the metal
lockers.

“Get the fuck off me!” Brent growled,
pushing him away. Mike and Christopher glanced over, looking
confused by the altercation.

“I told you to fucking stay away from her.
You could’ve had any goddamn woman you wanted, and you had to go
after her.”

“Away from who?” Christopher asked, looking
puzzled. “Did he hit on Brianna or something?”

“Ella!” Matthew ground out. “I told you to
goddamn stay away from Ella!”

“Yep, saw that one coming,” Mike said with
an easy grin as he leaned back against his locker. “Those two
couldn’t keep their eyes off each other all night. What’d you do?
Sneak out first thing this morning? You had to know that would come
back to bite you in the ass.”

“You slept with Brianna’s friend?”
Christopher asked incredulously, looking back and forth between the
other men. “She’s going to kill you. Actually, no, it looks like
Gator will. Brianna will have to settle for burying your sorry
ass.”

“I didn’t sleep with anyone! Jesus Christ,”
Brent muttered, turning and slamming his locker shut. “I kissed
her—so sue me. She’s a big girl. She wasn’t exactly pushing me
away. I’m the one who stopped things before they got out of hand.
I’m the one who left.”

“Doesn’t sound like your usual MO,” Mike
commented.

“She was over at our place crying this
morning—saying that you’re a complete asshole,” Matthew spat out.
“I didn’t even get half the story because she didn’t want me to
know the details. Maybe you spend every night with a new woman, but
she’s not like that. She doesn’t need guys like you treating her
that way. There’s stuff she’s dealing with that you don’t even know
about.”

“What’s going on?” Patrick ground out as he
walked in. His cool blue gaze slid to where Matthew and Brent stood
facing off in front of the lockers.

“Brent’s just chasing tail again,” Mike
said.

Matthew shot him a deadly glare.

“Chasing after Brianna’s friend,” Mike
corrected. “She’s a sweet girl. Way too nice for Cobra.”

“Which is why I left, jackass,” Brent
muttered.

“We’ve got training this morning,” Patrick
said, his voice steel. “Whatever this is, ends now. No one has time
for your goddamn locker room stories.”

“I didn’t have sex with her—not that it’s
anyone’s business,” he said, suddenly wishing the other guys didn’t
know the half of it. “What kind of jackass do you think I am? I
know she’s friends with you and Brianna. And what the hell is going
on with Ella that I don’t know about?”

“It’s about those texts she was getting,
right?” Mike asked, suddenly looking curious. “Kenley said that she
and Brianna both thought Ella was hiding something. Someone was
constantly texting her at the pool hall, and she shut off her
phone.”

“Damn it,” Brent muttered.

“You owe her an apology,” Matthew said. “I
would’ve driven her home myself last night if I knew you’d pull
your usual shit with her.”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll just buzz down to Florida
to apologize. Great idea, dickhead.”