To Seduce a SEAL (Sin City SEALs) (11 page)

Chapter Fifteen

“How’s the knee?”

A few days ago, Dante would have answered that question with a pointed “fuck you.” But he wasn’t about to curse at the Navy’s top doctor. Plus, he had a better response.

“Getting there,” he said, his cell pressed against his ear. “The pain is fading. I was able to run six eight-minute miles on the treadmill today. The range of motion seems solid. And I…I trust it. I feel my leg is ready to listen and perform.”

Dante inhaled and waited. He hoped like hell the doctor believed him. Dante knew this guy worked with SEALs all the time. He’d probably heard men with bullet holes tell him they were A-OK for active duty.

“You’re ready to return to your team?” the doctor said. “You don’t think that you’ll slow them down?”

“No, sir.”

Damn, this doc was good. He knew that a team player wouldn’t risk his fellow SEALs lives for a chance at the action. Yeah, Dante wanted to get back to the job he loved. But part of his job was looking out for the guys serving alongside him. Some of them had been at his side since Hell Week. They supported one another. The team, the mission—it all came before ego. Or shit, they’d probably all die out there.

“I won’t let my team down,” Dante added.

“Good,” the doctor said. “Let’s set up a physical. It that goes well, I’ll consider clearing you for active duty.”

“Thank you, sir.”

He felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. A chance to go back to work, to use his training for something more than standing on the sidelines at a concert and looking scary…oh hell yeah—

Knock. Knock.

“Sir,” he said, rising from the bed. “I’m going to have to call you back.”

“Call my office tomorrow and set up the appointment,” the doctor said.

“Will do, sir.”

He ended the call and slipped his phone into his pocket. He was expecting a costumed visitor eager for another late-night “lesson,” but he’d dropped her off at her room less than fifteen minutes ago. He’d assumed she’d need more time to change into her disguise before heading down the hall to his door.

Peering through the peephole, he saw a head of blond hair. He pulled open the door and stepped aside for her to enter.

“Hi.” Chrissie walked into his room in fitted jeans and a white T-shirt. She looked like the Chrissie who showed up for sound checks or played cards with Melissa on the bus. She’d removed her public, country-princess persona, including the layers of makeup she wore onstage. And she’d changed out of her all-American clothes.

“Hey.” His brow furrowed as he continued to study her outfit. “I give up,” he said finally. “Who are you tonight?”

“Just me. No disguises tonight.”

She reached for the hem of her T-shirt, drew it up, and revealed her toned abdomen. There was a curve to her belly that suggested she worked out, dancing and singing every night, but she didn’t obsess over sit-ups. And yeah, he was noticing the exact line and shape of the skin he’d kissed and licked as if really seeing her for the first time.

No costumes. No disguises. Just Chrissie.

“And if someone saw you?” he challenged, his gaze following her hands as she drew the shirt up over her white lace bra.

“I checked the hall.” She tossed the shirt aside. “And it’s mostly backup singers and dancers on this floor anyway. They’re not going to stop me and demand an autograph.”

He nodded as her shirt hit the floor.

“I know you were expecting a hot librarian, or a French maid, but…” She released her bra and shrugged it off her shoulders. “But I didn’t want to pretend anymore.”

He nodded, and his gaze followed the movement of her full breasts. Yeah, he’d studied those before, but they still left him speechless.

“After getting up there tonight and pouring my heart out,” she continued, “after showing that crowd who I am and what I feel when I think about Joe, or love, or life, after being honest with them through my music, I couldn’t walk in here and pretend with you.”

He stepped forward, fully aware that he’d gone from zero to ready for action since she walked into his room. His hard-on pressed uncomfortably against his jeans, begging him to follow her lead and lose the clothes. “Chrissie—”

“Tonight, I want you to want
me
, not the kinky setup.” She released the button on her jeans.

Two steps and he closed the space between them. He grabbed her hands and held tight to her wrists.

“While we’re being honest,” he began as her gaze lifted to meet his. “I didn’t toss aside my plan to steer clear of meaningless rebound flings because I can’t resist a French maid costume. I didn’t say yes to bedding my boss, the woman signing my paychecks, because you showed up at my door looking like a male fantasy. I couldn’t resist
you
.”

“You don’t care what I wear?” she asked.

“The disguises were just icing on the cake, honey. I don’t give a damn about them. Not as long as I get to help you out of your creative clothes.” He drew her pants down her legs and guided her out of them. Then he stood up and faced her.

“And you don’t need the pretense of a SEAL training session?”

He laughed. “If a little PT, if the idea of physical training turned me on? I’d never hear the end of it from my teammates. And I probably wouldn’t have made it through Hell Week.”

She buried her fingers in the plain black shirt he’d worn for her show. He hadn’t bothered changing out of his blend-into-the-background bodyguard clothes.

“But.” He reached one hand behind him and drew his shirt over his head. “Maybe it’s time for you to give me a lesson.”

“You’d like to learn to sing?” She ran her hands down his bare chest to his abs. The muscles contracted beneath her touch. “Play the guitar?”

“No, I’m not a SEAL who secretly wishes he was a country star,” he murmured. He placed his hands on hers and guided them lower. “I want to know what turns you on. Tell me how you like to be touched.”

He wanted to turn the tables on their little BJ lesson from the other night. He’d never opened up to a lover before, and the end result had blown him away—literally. Now he wanted to do the same for her.

“I think you know by now,” she said. “Better than anyone.”

Oh hell yeah.
He wouldn’t hide from the fact that he liked knowing he’d taken her places, to new heights of pleasure. Logic dictated that it was impossible, but still, he wanted her to be his for tonight, tomorrow, and the day after that.

“I want to learn more,” he insisted. He had to memorize every detail about her while he still had the chance. Active duty loomed in the future, calling to him, and he was ready to go. But hell, he was going to miss her.

“And you’ll do the same,” she said, her fingers toying with the closure of his jeans. “You’ll share, too? And tell me what you like?”

“I like it all, honey. As long as it’s with you. But—” He placed his hands on her hips and spun her around. He ran one hand up over her lace-trimmed panties to her back and gently pressed. “I want you to tell me if you want me here. Like this. Bent over the bed—”

“Yes,” she hissed, and her hands reached for the mattress’s edge.

The movement thrust her ass up in the air, and Dante couldn’t resist. He drew her panties down her legs, lowering himself to the floor in the process. “Step out of them,” he ordered.

She obeyed, lifting one slim leg and then the other until her underwear lay abandoned on the floor.

“Now, spread your legs,” he said. And when she didn’t move, he added, “Please.”

She heel-toed her feet farther apart, providing space for him to slide his broad shoulders between her legs. With his ass planted on the carpet, he let his abs do the work and hold him up as his fingers ran up her inner thighs. He brushed the curls at her center before venturing farther.

“Tell me what you want,” he said, his lips inches from her core.

“Lick me,” she whispered.

He ran his hands up to her ass and pressed his tongue to her clit. He licked and sucked and adjusted the pressure as she moaned a series of “harder,” “no not there, higher,” followed by “lower,” and then his favorite ”o
h, Dante!
”

She left out God and every other higher power. This was just a man loving his girl like crazy.

Loving.

The word echoed in his mind. And yeah, he was pretty damn sure he felt it in his heart as he slid one hand around and slipped a finger inside her. He’d been telling himself the truth when he’d said no more flings. He wasn’t here for a quick fuck or fantasy sex. And he’d been honest with her. He didn’t give a damn about the costumes.

Because he’d gone and fallen in love with the woman beneath the short skirts and ugly wigs. He’d fallen hard for America’s country sweetheart. For the woman who put her family first. For the brave performer who took the stage and dared to share her heart with the world.

He was a fool to love her. He worked for her. He’d made a promise to keep her safe. Shit, he was leaving soon. He wanted to go. He wanted to fight and do the job he’d been trained to do. And he knew she wouldn’t be waiting when he returned. She’d be off to another city, charming another audience, and doing what she loved.

Even if he asked to join her, find her when he had downtime, he’d have to trust that she would still be his when he returned. And he’d have to force himself to lock the worry and what-ifs away while he served…

Impossible.

His tongue glided over her clit, and he focused on the feel of her bucking hips, the taste of her—

“Dante!” she screamed. “Dante,
please
.”

He kept his finger buried inside, but he pulled his mouth away from her clit. “You’re asking so nicely—”

“Dante, make me come!”

“Yes, ma’am,” he murmured. He repositioned his tongue on her and claimed her in earnest as he thrust his fingers in and out. This was only the first orgasm he planned to give the woman he loved tonight. But he wanted to set the bar high. If he could make her scream his name like that, so loud the whole damn floor had probably heard her, then just wait until he buried his cock inside her.

…

Ring! Ring!

The familiar, high-pitched sound was like an exclamation point at the end of her orgasm. Chrissie leaned forward and pressed her forearms into the mattress. She could feel Dante moving between her legs. He’d stopped the supposed “lesson,” the one she’d been leading with her loud, wild cries, and was pushing himself off the floor.

She lifted her head and saw him pick up the phone. Studying the lines of his bare chest, she was pretty sure she needed him more than the person on the other end of that call.

“Mason, what can I do for you?” Dante said into the phone. His brows drew together as he listened to her manager. Then he nodded. “I’ll bring her down. Right away.”

She stood and looked around for her T-shirt. “What did Mason want? Are my parents fighting again?”

“He wasn’t calling about your family this time,” he said, his gaze fixed on her. “According to your manager, your label was expecting another song by the end of the day. They’d set up a call to hear what you’d put together. Mason’s been looking for you and, well, he’s not stupid.”

“The call,” she murmured as she sank onto the bed. How could she have forgotten the deadline for the song or the scheduled conversation with her label?

Because you killed it out there on the stage. And you left wanting one thing…

Dante. She’d pushed aside everything but her desire to make love to this man.

He ran his hand over his face. “Do you want to go and call them? I told Mason I would bring you down to your trailer in the lot. He’s there waiting for you. He said the people in Nashville understood your crazy schedule. They’re waiting up for you.”

“I haven’t finished it yet,” she said, closing her eyes. She’d been too busy in bed with her bodyguard.

“Do you want me to stall?” Dante sat down beside her on the bed.

“No, I need to go and talk to them.” She had an idea for a song. It had been percolating for a while, but she’d pushed it away, knowing it might break her heart to set the words to music.

“You don’t have to, Chrissie,” he said firmly. “You’ve had a long day—”

She looked up at him. “This is my job. My career. I know it’s a far cry from saving lives, but this is what I do. It matters to me, to my family, and to my fans.”

He took her hands in his. “I get it, honey. I do. But if you’re not ready—”

“I have an idea.” She pulled free from his hold. “I’ll tell them about it tonight. Promise a special reveal. I can’t let them find out I’ve been distracted.”

“You’ve been working your ass off,” he said, following her to the door.

She glanced over her shoulder and offered him a smile. The pained look in his dark eyes suggested he could see past the forced grin. “No, I haven’t, Dante. I’ve been taking time for myself. And while it’s been fun, I need to get back to work.”

“Fun,” he repeated, his jaw tightening as if she’d threatened to come at him with one of his Navy SEAL tricks, maybe an open-handed slap across the face…

But the time for SEAL lessons, for games and costumes, was over.

She placed her hand on the knob. “Good thing I skipped the maid outfit tonight, huh? I wouldn’t want to rush out and meet Mason in that.”

“Yeah.” His hand covered hers, holding the door shut. “Before you go back to work, before you leave, I want to thank you for showing me the real Chrissie. Even if it was just for one night.”

I knew the man who gave me a back massage in the greenroom so I could relax wouldn’t slam the door on me if I forgot my maid costume.

Still, she hadn’t expected him to tell her how much he wanted
her,
not the fantasy. He’d said those words as if he thought they could find a way forward. As if he’d seen through her getups from the beginning.

Impossible.

Tonight was a wake-up call. She needed to stay focused on her career.

Chapter Sixteen

Dante wanted to go out there and tell her manager, her label, and even her mother, to go to hell. But he couldn’t ignore the fact that telling them off would throw a roadblock in Chrissie’s path to success. Her future was focused on her career.

And he was nothing more than a distraction.

He got it. She’d told him the truth, which was a helluva lot more than he could say for his ex. And yeah, he understood what she’d meant, probably better than anyone else. Because, if he went back to work, his heart and mind wondering about the woman he freaking loved, he’d be distracted, too. And he couldn’t afford to let his personal life interfere with his job.

He scanned the parking lot as they exited the hotel and headed for her trailer. The door swung open and Mason appeared, a cell phone pressed to his ear. Her manager waved to them, and Chrissie picked up the pace. He followed, matching her stride for stride, still surveying the dark lot.

“Would have been better to meet inside,” he said.

“Next time,” she muttered as they reached the steps. “My notes are in here.”

Yeah, like he’d still be around for her next major call. “That’s what I’d recommend,” he said. “For you safety.”

She spared him a parting glance over her shoulder. “Would you mind waiting out here while I take the call?”

He nodded, thrusting aside the feeling of having a door slammed in his face. “After I check the trailer.”

“But Mason’s been in there,” she said. “And I need—”

“I need to do the job you hired me to do,” he said. He stopped himself before he added a sarcastic “Ms. Tate.” None of this was her fault.

Fuck, it was his. He’d gone and fallen in love with a woman who talked to him, who communicated her needs, fulfilled his fantasies, and who put her career first—always. So much for listening to freaking logic and keeping a hold on his heart. He’d gone from a wild rebound fling with a Vegas dancer to loving a woman who drew the line at wanting him for sex.

And self-defense training. He couldn’t forget their damn lessons.

He quickly scanned the trailer, and he ignored Mason’s panic as he checked behind doors. The manager wanted Chrissie on the phone now, but her safety came first.

When he’d completed his search, he stepped out of the trailer and closed the door. He assumed a parade rest position and forced himself to tune out his feelings, his wants, his desires—everything but the parking lot and his mission. He was here to keep Chrissie Tate safe.

Nothing more.

Their future wasn’t a problem he could solve. Hell, it was like ripping up his knee all over again. He could get in and reach the girl, but he couldn’t find a safe exit strategy. But at least this time, instead of a knee injury, he’d leave with a broken heart. He didn’t need that particular organ fully functional to be cleared for active duty.

Still, heartache sucked. And knowing he’d spend the next few days traveling with her, always at her side, keeping her safe but not touching her? Talk about hell.

…

Chrissie glanced over at her bodyguard. He’d maintained a professional presence, always nearby, checking rooms before she entered, and leading the way when they approached a crowd. But he hadn’t crossed the line since Denver.

Of course, her panic had been for nothing. Her label loved the idea for her new song and the way she planned to present her future hit.

But her late arrival to the call had thrust Mason into hyper-focused mode. Her manager worked around the clock now to ensure her success, talking to the publicity team, and assuring her label that more new songs would be ready soon. He’d even stepped in to help with her family woes—by purchasing a one-way ticket back to Florida for her father.

“Sweetheart, I’d stay longer if I could,” her dad said. “But your mother wants me home when the twins get back. And I think we both know I’m not much help here.”

“I’m glad you came, Daddy.”

He gave her a woeful smile. “I never did see you sing. I’m sorry about that.”

She shrugged. “There’s always next time. I’m sure Mom will make you come back.”

“She might,” he said, his smile fading. “I hope she does.”

She wrapped her arms around her father. What could she say? Mom still loves you? She wasn’t sure if that were true anymore. She didn’t know how to judge love. Dante had opened her eyes to a world of want and desire. But the kind of bone-deep need “to have and to hold till death do us part”? She didn’t have a clue about that.

“Have a safe flight, Dad,” she murmured, pulling him in for another hug.

“Be careful out there. Listen to your mother, your manager, and your bodyguard over there.” Her dad nodded toward Dante. “I don’t want to hear about any more run-ins with stalkers.”

“I will, Daddy.”

They said their final good-byes and I-love-yous before her father turned and disappeared through the Albuquerque airport security.

Dante was at her side a moment later. “I need to get you back before the bus leaves for California. Mason gave me strict orders.”

She glanced up at him. “I know my manager’s upset that I decided to take my dad to the airport myself. Though it’s his fault that he booked a flight out of an airport an hour from Santa Fe. But I still sign your paychecks, you know that, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He turned and headed for the automatic doors. “But we also have to return the car to the hotel. And I was told you still need to finish your next number one album.”

“Don’t jinx it,” she muttered, following him to the short-term parking area. She’d been working on lyrics since she’d pitched her ideas in Denver. She’d always known he would be returning to the SEALs once his knee healed. But when she’d started writing, her feelings poured out.

She glanced at Dante as she climbed into the passenger seat of the car borrowed from the hotel. She didn’t want him to leave. But the idea of him staying was worse. What he did out there, with the other SEALs and sailors, it was important. If it wasn’t…then her brother had given his life for a career that could be set aside on a whim.

He turned onto the service road leading away from the airport. She waited for him to say something.

Tell me you miss our lessons. Tell me that you miss talking to me, or guarding me while I nap
.

Nothing…

I miss you. Your touch. Your kisses.

But what was the point in telling him? He would be leaving soon. And while she wanted to tear a hole through the distance that had erupted since she’d been forced to face the truth—she couldn’t handle the distraction of a relationship without dropping the ball on something else—she knew she would miss him more when he was on the other side of the world and walking into harm’s way.

But he hasn’t left yet…

She should keep her distance. Breaking it down now would only make the end harder. And she had to walk away. She couldn’t get tangled up in love and miss another call, or show up tired to another show. Not that this was love. She wanted him. Knowing he was leaving soon only spurred her lust forward.

He’s still here…

“Can you take the back roads?” she asked, pointing to a sign marked
Turquoise Trail
. “I’ve never been to this part of New Mexico.”

“I don’t think we have time for sightseeing today.” He headed for the highway entrance ramp. “We’d better stick to I-25, or I’ll get an earful from Mason.”

“Afraid of my manager now?” she said.

“No,” he said, merging onto the road. “But I like the way he looks out for you.”

“I don’t think Mason would stand his ground and hit hard if needed,” she murmured. “But he might haul ass.”

“Not all battles are physical. He does his part to keep you safe and further your career. I thought that was important to you, too.”

She stared at him, studying his profile as he returned his attention to the road. His jaw was taut. He was waiting for her answer. She knew what she should say:
yes.

But right now, she didn’t want to be Chrissie Tate, the country star. She wished she could keep that world locked away in the trailer that had her name written across the side in big pink letters. For an hour, maybe two, she wanted to lose herself in her SEAL’s arms again.

“It is important,” she said softly. “But…”

“Honey, I know your music means a lot to you.” His grip tightened on the wheel. “But I want you like crazy and, I’ll be honest, the fact that I’m leaving and you’re moving on doesn’t change that.”

She turned and looked out the window. Wide-open desert stretched for what looked like miles, leading to mountains. Part of her wanted to toss aside reason and embrace the SEAL sitting beside her. Tomorrow night, in San Diego, she could take the stage and tell the world she’d fallen for her bodyguard. She could offer him love and ask him to open his heart to her in return.

But did she love him? She wasn’t sure. She didn’t know. She could trust in the facts. He was leaving. Her career dictated how and where she spent her time. Even if she handed over her heart to him, there was no guarantee love would be enough.

For Chrissie Tate the country star. But for the girl who poured her heart and soul into her lyrics during her breaks from her job at the grocery store? That girl wanted to use what little time they had left and take advantage of the fact that they were alone. She wanted to live on the edge, allowing herself to feel without worrying about the consequences.

The landscape was stunning, but she wasn’t looking at the distant mountains anymore. “There’s a parking area up ahead,” she said pointing to the sign.

“It says ‘no facilities’,” he said.

“I know. But I want you to stop anyway,” she said. “And don’t you dare say Mason wouldn’t like it. This isn’t about him or my job or your commitment to the Navy. I need to…I need to finish what we started the other night. I owe you that much.”

“You don’t owe me a damn thing,” he said. But he did as she asked and veered off the highway.

She waited until he put the car in park. The rest area was deserted apart from a semi in the corner. Someone could pull up and peer through the window. She could be recognized. Or, if she went through with her plan, arrested. Still, she couldn’t let him leave thinking, believing that she didn’t want him enough to risk it.

She reached over and ran her hand along the firm ridge beneath his jeans. With her other hand, she released her seatbelt. She adjusted her position in the passenger seat, drawing her legs up until she was kneeling with her torso over the center console.

“Chrissie, what the hell?”

She undid the button and then drew his zipper down before reaching inside his briefs. With her hand wrapped around his cock, she lowered her mouth. “I owe you this. I refuse to let you leave until I hear you come screaming my name.”