HOT SEAL Lover (HOT SEAL Team - Book 2) (4 page)

C
hristina didn’t quite know
what she was saying, but she knew she couldn’t let him go. Not tonight. Not when it was vitally important somehow that she climb back on that horse and remember what it was like to be wanted.

She unlocked the door with trembling fingers, the big man behind her making her shiver. Not from fear.

From need. From want. From anticipation.

She got the door open and stepped inside. Remy was right behind her, closing the door and locking it before he turned to face her again. She stood in the foyer with her heart pounding and her knees shaking, wondering if she’d bitten off more than she could chew.

It wasn’t too late to tell him she’d changed her mind, that she couldn’t do this.

But, oh, how could she say no to this man?

She let her gaze run over him, looking her fill. He was tall, broad, his heather-gray henley stretching over muscles that were glorious to look at. He was clean-shaven with a strong jawline. His hair was dark, cropped short because he was in the military, and his eyes were a piercing blue as he watched her.

He didn’t look safe at all—but he looked like someone who would keep
her
safe. Someone who wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her.

Looks were deceiving. Ben hadn’t looked like the kind of man who would cheat and lie and stomp on her heart. He hadn’t looked like he’d steal all her money and make a mockery of her love.

He’d done all those things. No, you couldn’t tell a damned thing about someone just by looking at them.

Or by touching them. Hell, you couldn’t tell anything at all. You just took your chances every day and hoped you weren’t wrong.

And when you were wrong? Well, you got your guts ripped out and stomped on.

“Second thoughts,
cher?
”

Her pulse kicked at the evidence he could read her so easily. What was it about him? What was it that drew her even while she should be running in the opposite direction?

“These days, always.”

And that was the other thing about him. She couldn’t help but tell him the truth. She always said what was on her mind, though she was typically the sort of person who considered all the angles before speaking. Not with Remy. With him, she just kind of laid it out there.

One corner of his mouth lifted in a grin. He was so sexy it hurt. Really, truly sexy. And he wanted her, which was thrilling and frightening all at once.

“I love that you’re so blunt with me. Tell it like it is, Christina. Always tell it like it is.”

“I’m not usually this direct,” she admitted. “But for some reason, I can’t seem to be anything but honest with you.”

“Good. Let’s keep it that way, all right?”

She nodded.

“Now, how about you tell me if you want me to get in my truck and go home or stay here? Either way, I’m calling you tomorrow.”

Christina’s heart thudded. Yes, she was scared, dammit. And yet the idea of him leaving made her chest tighten. The only way she was getting through this was by forging ahead and doing it. She closed the distance between them and slipped her palms over his chest, thrilling at the hard peaks of muscle.

“I don’t want you to go, Remy. I want you to stay right here and make me feel good about myself again.”

His arms went around her, but he held her loosely. “I want to do that for you, baby. But you’ve got nothing to feel bad about, okay? Your soon-to-be ex lied to you about his sexuality. His inability to be faithful to you has nothing to do with you and everything to do with him. You got that?”

His words made warmth flare in her chest. “Yes.”

He tipped her chin up with his fingers, stepped in closer. “One more thing, baby, and this one is important.”

“What?”

“If you’re doing this to get back at him, don’t do it. He won’t care and you will, so think about that for a minute.”

Oh God, if her heart wasn’t so bruised and battered, if she weren’t completely convinced that she was never trusting a man again, she might just fall in love with Remy Marchand.

Except that was impossible because she’d known him for barely over a week. Nobody fell in love in a week. And definitely not when they were still reeling from the last relationship they’d been in.

That was called rebounding, and she wasn’t going to rebound.

“I won’t say that getting back at him never occurred to me,” she said softly. “It did, precisely three seconds after I met you the first time. But you’re right, Ben wouldn’t care even if he knew. The only thing he cares about is himself. If I offered to take him back tomorrow, he
might
come running—but only because it might salvage his political career, no other reason.”

“Damn, baby.”

She loved the quiet condemnation in his voice, the way she could hear everything he didn’t say just by his tone. She’d always been careful what she said to people who knew her and Ben, including her brother and Evie. But with Remy she could say whatever she wanted. He didn’t know Ben, and he didn’t care about him. Not that Matt and Evie cared about him either, but they cared about her in a way that meant they got really angry whenever the subject of Ben came up.

She took Remy’s hand and led him up the stairs to her bedroom. When he reached the threshold, he stopped. She turned and watched him looking at her bedroom.

It was utterly feminine, with soft white and pink flowers on the coverlet, frilly shams, and white furniture mixed with antiques. The floors were wood overlaid with Oriental carpets. There was a television on a dresser, and the remnants of her frantic wardrobe search earlier lay across the bed.

She went over and scooped up the clothes, dropping them on a soft pink Queen Anne chair. Remy still hadn’t moved.

“Too girly for you?” she asked, arching one eyebrow as she did so. Yes, she was nervous—and yes, this situation was funny considering the way he looked at her room like someone had set off a Strawberry Shortcake explosion.

His gaze met hers then and her heart skipped. God, he was pretty. So masculine and beautiful. Definitely not the kind of man who belonged in a Laura Ashley/shabby chic boudoir.

“It’s pretty girly, yeah. But it suits you.”

She ran her hand over the coverlet automatically, smoothing out wrinkles. Ridiculous considering he was here to mess the bed up as much as possible.

“In case you’re wondering, Ben never slept in this bed. It was our guest bed. When we split up, I moved out and took this furniture with me.”

“Yeah, I was wondering.” He stepped into the room then, his dark form at odds with the frilly decor. His hands were shoved into his jeans pockets, and a little thrill ran over her at the idea of undressing him.

She realized she’d picked up a pillow and held it to her middle. She set it down carefully, fluffing it as she did so, her throat suddenly dry. Remy was too smart to think she’d been straightening it in the first place. She didn’t know why she even tried to make him think the action was deliberate when they both knew it wasn’t.

“Come here, Christina.”

She swallowed—and then she walked over to him. He reached for her, curled a hand around her waist, and tugged her in close. Oh, she loved the strength of him. The way he took charge of the situation.

“This is what’s going to happen,” he said, his voice a growly rumble. “First, I’m going to kiss you until you melt. Then I’m going to undress you and lay you down on that pretty bed where I plan to explore every inch of you with my fingers and tongue. Sound like something you’d enjoy?”

Christina’s belly tightened with need. “Yes,” she whispered.

“Good, because that’s not all. I’m going to lick you, baby, thoroughly and deeply, until you come hard on my tongue. Then you’re going to ride my cock until neither one of us knows our name anymore. I plan to be here for hours, you understand? In you, on you, under you—
cher
, I want it all before I’m through. If this doesn’t work for you, you need to tell me now.”

Oh God. Her heart thundered and her ears burned, but yeah, she needed every bit of that right now. Every bit of Remy.

“It works for me.”

He smiled a slow, wicked smile. “Glad to hear it,
ma petite
.”

R
emy knew she was nervous
. But she wanted this, that much was clear. Her pretty eyes dilated, her bottom lip dropped, and her tongue darted out to lick it. He practically groaned.

Yeah, there was something special about this girl. Something that made the need hammering through him practically hurt. He wanted her, and he wanted to make her happy. He didn’t want her to regret a moment of this.

His gaze lifted and slid over the room. Goddamn, it was so frilly and girly it ought to make his skull ache, but it fit her. Christina Girard was a lady. A soft, gentle lady who didn’t deserve the shit being heaped on her by her asshole of an almost-ex-husband.

It was a wonder her brother hadn’t pounded the guy into the dirt yet. Then again, it was probably a good thing considering what he was capable of—what all the HOT guys were capable of.

Remy had planned to start kissing her right here, but he bent and put an arm behind her knees, sweeping her up and into his arms as easily if she were a feather. She gasped softly, her arms winding around his neck as he carried her the few steps to the bed. It was totally unnecessary to pick her up considering how close the bed was, but there was something about doing so that felt right.

He put a knee on the bed and laid her back on it, coming down on top of her. He could feel her heart hammering in her chest in the moment before he lifted himself up and put a little bit of space between them.

He kissed her gently, softly, but she didn’t seem to want soft. She lifted her head and kissed him harder, her tongue demanding where it stroked against his.

All right, he could change the pace if that’s what she wanted. He held himself up on his elbows, his hands cupping her face as he devoured her mouth.

She moaned as she met him eagerly, their tongues tangling and bodies straining to rub against each other.

Shit, he was hard. So fucking hard that every shimmy of her hips sent an ache arrowing into his balls and up to the base of his spine.

Her hands glided down his sides, around to cup his ass. She pulled him harder to her, and he began to get the idea about how this was really going to go. No leisurely kisses while he stoked the fire. No working up to undressing her. No slow burn for Christina.

She wanted to go up in flames right away. Well, hell, he could do that.

He got to his knees, reached for the belt at her waist, and unbuckled it. Christina sat up and he found the zipper at her back, slid it down until she could slip her arms free of the dress. Another few seconds and he lifted it over her head and tossed it aside.

Her bra and panties were white and lacy. Sensible, but still sexy. And fuck him, she was still wearing those pearls.

She must have followed his gaze because she reached for the clasp. He put a hand over hers, stopping her.

“Leave them on,
cher.
”

She blinked, but then she smiled. “All right.”

He’d have never guessed it, but there was something about the idea of being cock-deep in a woman wearing pearls that turned him on.

He reached behind his head and grabbed a handful of the henley, pulling it off and dropping it. Then he pressed Christina back into the bed and attacked her mouth again. She moaned as she wrapped her arms around him, arching her body up to his.

And oh, he so got it. Because they were skin to skin for the first time. Yeah, she still had her bra on, but he could fix that. He reached beneath her and unsnapped it, lifting it off before lowering himself again.

This time there was nothing between their torsos but hot, silky skin. He glided a hand to her breast, cupped the small roundness in his palm. Her nipple was a tight peak that he rubbed back and forth beneath his thumb while she gasped into his mouth.

When he couldn’t take it a moment longer, he tore his mouth from hers and sucked her nipple, flicking it with his tongue as he drew her deep.

Her fingers curled into his shoulders. “Oh, Remy. Damn, that feels good…”

He feathered his fingers down her body, over her soft skin, before sliding beneath the waistband of her panties and into the slick heat of her sex. She bowed beneath him as he found her clitoris and stroked it.

“Oh my God…”

She made a choked sound, her body stiffening, and then she cried out. He was so surprised he had to push himself up and look at her. Her cheek was turned into the pillow, her eyes were closed tight, and her skin flushed a pretty pink.

“You came,” he said. “Jesus.”

“It’s been a long time,” she whispered. “What can I say?”

A hot, possessive feeling flooded him then. He wanted to cherish her, make her feel as good as possible for as long as he could.

“I need to taste you,” he said hoarsely, slipping her panties from her hips and down her slim legs.

She was looking at him again as he knelt over her, her eyes glittering, and he knew she was close to crying. It made him hesitate.

“Do you want me to leave?”

She shook her head.

“Are you gonna be okay, baby?”

She nodded.

“You need me to give you some time?”

He didn’t know what she needed, but he knew that the look on her face was breaking his heart. Like she was shocked she could still feel pleasure or that anyone would want to give it to her.

Jesus, what a mind fuck it had to be when the person you married turned out not to be the person you thought they were.

“Take your pants off, Remy. I’d feel better if you were as naked as I am.”

“Honey, that’s not a problem at all, trust me.” He started to undo his belt, but she suddenly sat up, folding her knees under her, and reached for the strap.

“Let me.”

“All right.”

She flicked the belt open and then went for his button fly. It was sweet torture to have her hands brushing his hard cock through his underwear, but he managed to survive. When she got the last button undone, she leaned in and pressed her mouth to his pec while shoving his jeans down his hips.

Remy hissed at the touch of her tongue on his skin. He threaded the fingers of his right hand into her hair and cupped her skull as she explored him.

“You’re so beautiful, Remy,” she said, her voice vibrating against muscle and bone. “So big and beautiful.”

She swirled her tongue around his nipple at the same time she wrapped a hand around his cock, and he hissed in a breath once more.

“Christina, dammit…”

“Fair’s fair.”

Before she could do any more damage to his control, he put his hands under her arms and picked her up, tossing her back on the bed and pouncing on her.

He caught her arms, ringing her wrists with one hand and pushing them above her head. If she’d shown the slightest ounce of hesitation or fear, he’d have let her go.

Instead, she hooked her toes in his jeans where they were lying around his knees and pushed them farther down. He kicked them off, and they disappeared over the side of the bed.

“I pray like fucking hell you have a condom in this place,” he growled as she arched her hips upward and his cock glided along the wet seam of her sex. He’d deliberately not put any in his pockets because he hadn’t been intending to do this with her yet.

Her eyelashes lowered a moment. “I bought a box the other day.”

Relief coursed through him. “That’s good,
cher
. Real good. But we’re not going to need them for a little while yet.”

He released her wrists and slipped down her body. She let her legs fall open as he settled between them. He studied the pretty folds of her pussy—the slick pink inner lips, the plump outer lips, the tight dark curls she’d trimmed into a triangle.

When he met her gaze, she was watching him with the tip of one index finger in her mouth. The pearls gleamed against her milky skin, and her breasts rose and fell a little quicker than usual.

Remy gave her a wicked grin. And then he did what he’d been trained to do—he stormed the gates and attacked with everything he had in his arsenal.