Shooting the SEAL (Saving the SEALs Series Book 1) (6 page)

“Yeah, something. Down time.” Gage picked up his beer and followed her into the living room. Out of habit, he stopped by the window and glanced out—it was ingrained now to scope out his surroundings. You didn’t walk into a room without checking the exits and the occupants. You stayed aware.

He glimpsed a shadow moving below in the street. Could be someone out for the evening air, but he didn’t like that the shadow seemed to be hanging around more than walking somewhere. Maybe it was nothing, but suddenly, he didn’t want to leave Anna alone.

She’d said some guy had stopped to help her—but the guy had faded away. That didn’t sound right. All of this smacked of trouble, and if he left her…well, he wasn’t going to see her end up like Nick.

Dropping the curtain, he headed over to the couch and sat next to her. “You need a ride to work in the morning?”

She shook her head and sipped her beer. She hadn’t moved away from him and that was good. She smelled good, too—spicy and flowery with that touch of garlic and beer clinging to her from the meal.
Smells of home
, Gage thought. They were both comforting and not all that familiar to him.

“I can call a friend tomorrow for a ride once I know Ginny’s at the mechanic’s—I want to make sure she’s in good hands.”

He put his beer down and put his hands on her waist. “How about you being in some good hands?”

She opened her mouth to answer, so he swooped in, kissed her hard. He caught her breath—and her tongue, sucked on it. She gave a moan. She brought up her hands and wrapped her arms around him.

Taking her up on the invitation, he slipped one hand under her shirt. She was even better than anything in any of his fantasies. He let the kiss linger, wrapped her up in his arms. Her skin heated when he stroked his hands over her. He heard the thud of a shoe coming off—one of hers. The other ones joined it.

Pulling back, he stared down at her. He touched a hand to the buttons on her shirt, but she put her hand over his. “Leave it on.” He lifted his eyebrows, but she simply grabbed his T-shirt and pulled on the hem. “This, however, can come off.”

Sitting up, he tugged it off. She ran her fingertips over his chest. Pausing, her hand stilled and her fingers splayed wide on him as if she was taking up ownership, she looked straight at him. “The one thing these last couple of days have taught me is that I don’t want to reach the end of my life and have any regrets.”

He smiled. “Life flashed before your eyes?”

“Something like that.” She stood, unbuttoned her jeans and let them drop. Gage let his stare travel over her legs—she had great legs, long and lean and perfect. Looking up at her, he wet his lips and asked, “And what is it would you regret not doing?”

“This.” Grasping his shoulder for support, Anna straddled him. She’d dropped her panties along with her jeans and now he could feel her wet warmth right through his jeans. He gave a groan. She leaned into him and lightly brushed her lips across his.

Sliding closer, she cupped the side of his face and kissed him, plunging her tongue inside his mouth to explore. He gave another moan and caught her hips with his hands. He couldn’t hold still, so he rocked his hips up into hers.

She had him on edge—ready to pop like a teenager.

Pulling back, she grinned at him. “So what are we waiting for?”

He tightened his hold on her, pulled her to him and twisted so he had her flat on her back on the couch. Her shirt rode up, leaving her bare-assed and her legs splayed wide, giving him the best view in town.

She shaved close, he saw—and she was a natural blonde. Leaning over her, he kissed her with an intensity born of need. She parting her lips and he plunged inside her mouth. Her tongue met his, twisting and turning around his.

Wrapping her legs around his hips, she arched against him. He stroked the back of her knees, loving the feel of her skin, her head. Moving around her face, he pressed light kisses all over. She giggled, and he pulled back and smiled at her. “I love the sound of your laugh,” he told her. Rocking his hips, he pressed the bulge in his jeans against her wetness. She slid her hands over his back.

“I think…we have too many clothes on. And by we, I mean you.

Chuckling, he shifted, pulled himself off her. He stood, pulled off his shoes, socks and jeans. Her eyes widened, and he spread his hands. “You’re the one who said
we
had too many clothes on,” he reminded her.

“I did say that.”

Kneeling on the couch, he covered her body with his. He smiled at her before kissing her nose. “You are so beautiful, Anna. Can you feel what you do to me?”

She shifted, wrapped her legs around him. “Oh, yeah.”

Shifting, Gage began kissing his way down her body. He wanted her shirt off, but she caught his hands and shook her head. He gave a shrug and kept heading south. He licked her stomach, and headed lower, putting a wet kiss on the inside of her thigh. She sucked in a breath.

He lifted his head. “Bad?”

“Oh no. Good. Very, very good.”

He did it again, and she gave a sigh. Lifting her legs, he draped them over his shoulders as he rubbed his hands along the insides of her thighs. “Now this is what I call dessert. This is something else I’ve dreamed about,” he told her as she raised her hips into him.

With his thumbs, he rubbed along her slit and pushed into the wet dampness. She smelled like the ocean—like a woman ready for sex. She was so damn wet. He put his mouth where his fingers had been, pushing his tongue into her, tasting all that sweet honey leaking out of her. She moaned and her hips bucked. He slid two fingers inside her, curling his fingers as he twisted his hand. With a gasp, Anna dug her heels into his back. Her body began to shake.

Finding her clit, he continued to pump his fingers in and out, as he lavished attention on her tight nub with his tongue. Biting down lightly, he began to suck harder.

Anna cried out. He could feel her coming and he pulled back to watch it, pumping into her with his fingers, trying to draw every ounce of pleasure out of her.

He kissed her again, and reached down to his jeans, found his wallet and the condom he kept tucked inside—just in case. He rolled it on and lay over Anna again. She took him into his arms as if she’d been waiting for him. He slipped into her—she was so wet, so open, so ready.

Once again, she wrapped her legs around his hips. He pushed into her in one thrust. She arched and shivered.

Leaning on his elbows, he smiled down at her. He moved slow, wanting to feel every inch of her, wanting to memorize the look on her face—how her mouth slackened and her lips parted, how she made small sounds of pleasure, how her eyes lost focus and darkened until he could only see a rim of blue. Her nostrils flared and color and heat washed over her face.

He couldn’t hold back now—he had to move. He slipped into her, pushed deeper. His balls tightened with need. Reaching between their entwined bodies, he rubbed her clit. Anna cried out again and clutched at his shoulders. With a groan, he wrapping his arms around her. He pushed deep, as deep as he could, bucked hard into her. Dammit, he wanted all of her, wanted to own her, wanted to rip the condom off and come inside her.

He came with a blinding rush—air pushed out of his lungs with a long moan and he shuddered and came apart. She held him, wrapped those sinfully long legs around him, clutched at his shoulders, and he emptied out the stress of the last few weeks.

It took him a minute, but he was able to sit up at last. He pulled off the condom, padded into the kitchen and threw it out. Would she ask him to leave? He hoped not. He really hoped not—he was in no shape to go anywhere.

Anna sprawled on the couch, looking deliciously rumpled and sexy as hell, her shirt up around her hips and her face still rosy from sex. She smiled at him. “I do have a bed, you know.”

He held out a hand. “Lead the way.”

Deciding to be bold, Anna stood, took his hand and pulled him into her bedroom. She turned on the lamp on her side-table. Naked was a good look on him. He pulled down the covers and got in bed. She headed back to lock up and turn off the lights. At the last minute, she brought the beer into the bedroom in case he wanted any.

He lay face down on the bed, short hair sticking up a little, the sheets barely covering his ass. His breathing had deepened, and she was going for him already being asleep. One lean foot stuck out from the covers, exposing a well-muscled calf. Her fingers itched for her camera. She bit her lower lip. Butterflies in her stomach began to dance madly. With a grin, she decided why not—she’d show him the photos before she did anything with them. And she wouldn’t take anything that could compromise him by identifying him.

Slipping into her closet, she pulled out her Cannon. It was a digital—it would do everything automatically, or she could change the settings if she chose. She already had a lens on for close shots, so she just started shooting.

In the light, his skin looked almost golden. She took a shot of just his back—the sculpted lines, the curve, the muscles, just the hint of his ass under the covers. Moving she took a shot of his foot—she loved feet. His were like his hands—long, narrow, tapering.

She moved closer and caught a whiff of his scent—something warm and faintly smelling of the ocean. Closing her eyes, she remembered him with his arms around her on the couch. She shivered—that was a good memory.

A hand snaked out, caught her wrist. Her eyes popped open, and Gage dragged her into the bed. He rolled with her and she ended up caught in his arms. He stared at her, eyebrows lifted, and she smiled back. “Want to see? If I was artistic enough, I’d paint you, but I’ll have to settle for photos.”

“Naked pictures?” he asked, as his voice deepened. “Didn’t know you were that kinky.”

She trailed her fingers over his chest. “You look good naked.”

He pulled the camera out of her hands and put it on the nightstand. “I look better with you wrapped around me.”

She turned in his arms, wiggled up and out, and straddled his lap. Giving him her best seductive smile, she leaned in to kiss him. Groaning, he wrapped his arms tightly around her. He pulled at her shirt, “This needs to come off.”

She put her hands over his. “I…I have scars.”

“Yeah, who doesn’t.” He pointed to a puckered set of lines low on his hip. “Appendix out—didn’t help that a knife went in there next.” Tugging at her shirt, he lifted the hem and slid his hands up underneath. “Off. Now, please.”

Slowly, she unbuttoned the shirt, her insides dancing. She got it opened, revealed the lines of white scars. Gage pulled her down and started kissing each one. He palmed her breasts and her nipples strained against her bra, begging for his touch. She heard her bra snap open. She slipped it off and pressed her chest against his—he was all heat. Fire under his skin and in his touch.

Rubbing her cheek against his, she snaked her tongue out to lick his earlobe before nibbling on it. There was so much she wanted to do and feel. She wanted more of him—all of him. She worked her hands down his body—stroking, exploring. She managed to slide one hand between them to stroke his erection.

With a groan, he pulled Anna against him. He grabbed her ponytail and held her captive against an onslaught of kisses.

Panting, she pulled away and sat up. She trailed a hand over his chest, then put his fingers on her chest. “What do they feel like? My skin. What do the scars feel like to you? I mean, I touch them all the time and I just…I don’t know. Are they weird?”

Taking her hand, he brought it to his right ear. “What does that feel like?”

Shifting her position, she touched his earlobe. “It’s textured. And soft.”

Wrapping his arms around her, he rolled to his side. He kept one arm around her and lifted one leg over his hips. Lightly, he traced the cobweb of scars across the top of her chest. “They remind me of a board game I played as a kid. I don’t remember what it was called, but the board itself was textured to depict different terrains.” Leaning down, he licked at the scars. Anna gasped. “Hmmm, they feel the same on my tongue as they do on my finger.”

“Now these…” he continued as he shifted his finger over to the top of her breasts. “They’re incredibly soft to the touch and the skin is so smooth.” Kissing the top of her breast, he licked his way over her scars. “They’re a bit salty.” He licked and nuzzled his way around her breasts, making her pant.

Lifting her arm out of the way, Gage rested on his elbow as he studied the scars on the side of her body. “This bunch isn’t nearly as smooth as the ones on your breasts, but they make interesting patterns. They remind me of crosshatching and they don’t feel like you would expect them to.” He kissed one, then licked it. Giving her a predatory look, he said, “Shall I keep going? Because I’m thinking that I
really
want to taste the ones on your stomach.”

He flipped her onto her back and began licking and kissing his way down her stomach.

Anna gave a soft moan. This was torture—delicious torture.

He pressed a kiss to her mound, and she told him, her voice sounding breathy, “I don’t have any scars there.”

Picking his head up, he rested his cheek against her leg. “Need a control group for comparison purposes.”

“Oh, this is for science. And if you’re taking notes.”

“Lots of notes.” He found her clit and began licking and sucking her tight nub again. She gave into the building pressure inside her. He slipped two fingers inside, and she twisted and said, “Oh. Yes. Please.”

She was trembling now, shaking. Heat flashed through her. Reaching down, she tugged at his shoulder. “I want you, Gage. Now.”

With a grin, he covered her body with his. “Anything you want, Anna.” He started to slowly push his way into her.

Impatient, Anna bucked and grabbed his hips. She wanted more—so much more. Head thrown back, she gave herself up to the heat, the need. He gave a soft grunt and pressed deeper. “That’s it, sweetheart. Show me what you want,” he told her.

Anna tensed, and Gage whispered, his voice rough and low, “Come for me, Anna.”

She cried out and the world fell apart. Gage thrust into her one last time, shuddered and held still. Sweat slicked the skin between them and her breath came in short gasps.

Gage rolled off her and pulled her into his arms. “I think I need more data before I can really tell you what your scars feel like.”

She huffed out a breath. “Well, anything for science.” She started to slip out of bed, but Gage grabbed her wrist. She glanced at him. “Relax. Just headed to the bathroom. You’re staying, right?”

He nodded and let go. She slid out of bed, she wobbled into the bathroom on legs that felt like wet noodles.

She cleaned up—he hadn’t used a condom that second time, but she was on the pill. She brushed her teeth and her hair—her nightly tradition. Heading back to the bedroom, she found Gage sprawled out again. She crawled back under the covers and touched a hand to his face. Dark eyelashes touched by a hint of gold brushed his high cheekbones. She traced his eyebrow.

He didn’t open his eyes, but he grabbed her hand, turning it and pressing a kiss into her palm. She could feel the stubble on his chin.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, his voice thick with sleep.

She wiggled closer to him, close enough that his scent wrapped around her. “That I don’t know if this was such a great idea.”

He smiled. “Oh, as ideas go, this rates a ten. Maybe an eleven.” His eyes opened a fraction and she caught a flash of silver. “We’re not picking out china yet, you know. And I don’t plan to vanish out of your life. I’m thinking dinner out a few times. A little more talking maybe. A lot more of this, I hope.”

Anna ran a hand over his hair. Short as it was, it was surprisingly soft. “I know a place that has great homemade desserts. And my favorite pub is just down the street. Hey, do you like Chinese?”

His mouth curved. “For the near future, wherever you want to go is good by me.”

Anna frowned. What an odd thing to say. But she was already half-asleep herself. She reached out and flicked the light off. She was under no illusions about Gage. He was a SEAL—meaning he and his team were sent off at a moment’s notice to places they never talked about.

They did things they couldn’t talk about, too. His life was entirely different from hers—but for a short time, well, she liked him. She liked him in her bed. It wasn’t like her to just jump into bed with a guy, but Gage—well, he was something special. She knew that. The only question was just how long she’d have him in her life.