Hotter Than Ever (Out of Uniform) (13 page)

“She kissed me,” he grumbled. “And I didn’t mention it because it wasn’t a big deal, nor was it ever going to happen again.”

“Can you at least admit that you want her?”

“Christ. Fine. I want her. You happy now? But guess what, man, I want a lot of things. Wanting something doesn’t automatically mean it’s a good idea to go out and get it. So yeah, I think she’s hot, and yeah, she gets me hard, but I’m not going to act on it.” He let out a frustrated breath. “If you want to sleep with her, go ahead. You have my blessing, okay? But me, I have no intention of ever sleeping with the woman, so for fuck’s sake, leave me out of it.”

Aidan didn’t know whether to curse or laugh as he left Dylan in the living room to cool off. Last time he’d seen Dylan this worked up over being attracted to someone, it had been toward Aidan himself. Dylan had been so freaked out about desiring a man out of the context of a threesome, and it had taken him a while to realize that sometimes you couldn’t help who you felt an attraction for.

And now Dylan was fighting the way he felt about Claire. A blind person could see how much he wanted the woman, and Aidan didn’t blame him one damn bit. He’d known Claire for only two days and he could honestly say he’d never been more drawn to a woman.

Not only that, but he found her presence strangely soothing. He was still reeling over the fact that he’d told her and Dylan about his mother’s death—that was something he never spoke of, yet when Claire had asked about his parents, the confession had slipped out without warning. And afterwards, he hadn’t felt exposed or embarrassed, the way he usually did when he revealed personal details about himself.

Why did he feel so comfortable opening up to Claire when he’d been denying Dylan the same privilege for months now? He had no answer for that, but there was one thing he did know—he didn’t want Claire to go yet.

Which was why he wasted no time in heading for Dylan’s bedroom so he could hopefully convince one very pissed-off redhead not to skip town.

He rapped his knuckles on the door. “Claire, it’s Aidan. Can I come in?”

A gloomy “Sure” came from the other side of the door.

He stepped into the bedroom and found her on the bed with her MacBook in her lap. Her striped shirt had fallen off one shoulder, revealing smooth lily-white skin and making his fingers tingle with the urge to stroke all that softness.

“Did you book a flight yet?” he asked.

“No.” She met his eyes. “You here to talk me out of it?”

“Yes.”

Irritation flashed on her face. “Don’t bother. I’m not staying.”

He smiled. “We both know you don’t want to go, sweetheart.”

“Oh, really? Now you’re an expert on what I want?”

Ignoring her squeaky protest, Aidan swiped the computer from her lap and walked over to set it on the dresser. He strode back to the bed and sat beside her. There was a foot of space between them, but he could feel the heat radiating from her body, smell her addictive lavender scent and see her pulse throbbing in her throat.

“I know you don’t want to be in San Francisco right now,” he said with a shrug. “Your parents will drive you nuts by fussing over you, you’ll be sleeping in the apartment you shared with Chris—who at the moment is enjoying your honeymoon without you. And you’ve got three weeks off, so you’re just going to sit around bored and stuck in your own head.”

Claire scowled at him. “At least that’s better than being accused of inviting a sexual assault.”

“He didn’t mean that and you know it. Dylan’s just in a shitty mood and he decided to take it out on you.”

“And that makes it right?” she challenged.

“Not at all. Look, I’m not going to make excuses for him or apologize on his behalf, but you need to know that you’re wrong about him.” Aidan’s heart squeezed. “He’s a good guy, Claire. And he cares about people, sometimes a helluva lot more than he should. For some reason, you just rub him the wrong way.”

“Well, the feeling is mutual.”

“What about me?” he asked impulsively.

Her forehead creased. “What do you mean?”

“Do I rub you the wrong way?”

Surprise flickered in her eyes. “Of course not.”

Smiling again, he angled his body so they were face-to-face instead of side by side. “You’ve enjoyed hanging out with me today, right?”

That appealing blush rose in her cheeks. “Yes. I’ve had fun.”

“Then keep having fun with me. Stay.”

Claire bit her plump bottom lip, and for a second he experienced a pang of envy that Dylan had had the pleasure of feeling those sexy lips pressed against his. Shit, he wanted this woman bad. Like trembling-hands-and-dry-mouth kind of bad.

“So what, I stick around for a few more days and just hang out with you? Don’t you have to work?” She paused. “Come to think of it, I don’t even know what you do. Are you in the navy too?”

“Yep, but I deal in naval intelligence. I work a boring eight-to-four out of the base, but I’ve got a bunch of personal days saved up that I can use if we want to take any day trips.”

“Day trips?” She laughed, and the sweet sound tickled his heart. “What kind of stuff are you planning to drag me into?”

“Anything you want. Might as well treat this like a vacation, no? We can check out the sights, drive up the coast, hit Malibu, Catalina, spend a day in LA if you want. So yeah, sightseeing, exploring. I’m even willing to let you drag me to every department store in the state if it means you’ll stay.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you want me to stay so badly? You don’t even know me.”

She was doing that cute nibbling thing to her lip again, and he couldn’t stop himself—he reached out, grasped her chin, and swept his thumb over that pouty lower lip.

Claire’s breath caught. Her brown eyes widened before going heavy-lidded with desire.

Oh yeah, this woman wanted him. He hadn’t missed the way her gaze had gobbled him up when they’d first met, and today he’d seen her checking him out more than once when she thought he wasn’t looking.

“I want you to stay because you fascinate me.” His voice was so hoarse he had to clear his throat before continuing. “I want to get to know you.”

He traced her cupid’s-bow mouth with his finger, enjoying the way her breathing quickened.

“Why do I fascinate you?” she murmured, making no move to wiggle out of his touch.

“I don’t know. You just do,” he said simply. “I guess it’s because…well, truthfully, I don’t spend time with many women like you.”

“Women like me?”

He smiled sheepishly and dropped his hand from her face. “You know, the non-airhead type. The women I’ve dated, or the ones Dylan and I bring home, they’re usually all about living in the moment, having a good time for a night and then moving on. That’s not to say they’re ditzy or dumb, but they certainly aren’t serious, you know what I mean?”

“And you think I’m serious?”

“I think you’re…pretty fucking amazing, actually. You’re smart, ambitious, funny, sexy—”

“You think I’m sexy?” Her face took on that pinkish hue again.

“So sexy.” He met her eyes. “And look, I ain’t gonna lie—I’m attracted to you. But I also know you’re in a vulnerable place right now and I promise I won’t take advantage of that. I really just want to spend more time with you. I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun with a woman.”

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. “What about Dylan?”

“What about him? He’s the one who asked you to come here in the first place, and I just spoke to him and he said he doesn’t mind if you stay.”

Fine, so maybe Dylan’s exact words had been
leave me out of it
but Aidan was going to take that as the green light for Claire to stick around.

When Claire shifted in visible reluctance, he gave her the impish grin he’d perfected over the years. “Come on, you know you want to.”

She scowled again, but her lips were twitching with amusement. “Jeez, I bet those dimples got you everything you wanted when you were growing up.”

“Yep, and they still do.” The grin widened. “So what do you say? Will you stay?”

Her indecision hung in the air between them. He could see her brain working, feel her resolve crumbling.

“Okay, you win,” she grumbled. “I’ll stay. But just for another day or two.”

Triumph coursed through him, though he knew it would take more than a day or two to get Claire where he wanted her—naked, moaning and sandwiched between him and Dylan while they drove her to new heights of arousal.

Of course, he would need to work on Dylan too, but that wouldn’t be difficult, considering the hunger on the guy’s face whenever Claire was in the room.

Still, it was going to take more than his dimples to make this happen. He’d definitely have to up his game, but fortunately, he’d always been very, very good at games. And this was one he had every intention of winning.

Chapter Seven

It took three days for Aidan to reach a conclusion: he was sharing space with the two most stubborn people on the planet. Although Claire had indeed stuck around, getting her and Dylan in the same room proved to be impossible. They went out of their way not to spend more than five minutes together, and Aidan was growing frustrated with their childish antics.

To make matters worse, Dylan was going to bed early and waking up before dawn because his SEAL team was running training missions all week. He’d been crashing on the pullout couch in the office so he wouldn’t disturb Aidan with his comings and goings, and the grueling demos left him beaten and exhausted when he got home, so even if they had been sharing a bed, Aidan knew sex wouldn’t be on the table.

As a result, he was so sexually frustrated he felt like a teenager with blue balls after his girlfriend refused to do more than neck. Being around Claire was pure torture. Not being with Dylan was even worse.

Needless to say, it was time to shake things up.

“Hey, guys? Can you come in here for a sec?” he called from the master bedroom.

Since Claire was right across the hall, she popped her head in the doorway within seconds, looking cute as hell in denim shorts and a red tank top, with her hair tied in a low, side ponytail. The two of them had spent the morning at the pier having lunch at a bistro that overlooked the water, then gotten ice cream at Aidan’s favorite place in San Diego. Cash McCoy’s girlfriend had turned him on to the place, and Claire had absolutely loved it, demanding a taste of every unique flavor in the store.

The more time he spent with her, the more Aidan liked her.

And the more he wanted to get her naked.

Soon,
he reassured himself.

Claire stepped into the room. “What’s up?”

“Hold on. Dylan, I’m serious, get in here,” Aidan called. “I’ve got something to show you guys.”

Dylan had been napping on the living room couch, having gotten home an hour ago in an exhaustion coma, so it took a few more seconds before his footsteps finally sounded in the hall.

“This better be good.” Dylan strode into the bedroom, covering his mouth as a yawn overtook him. “What is it?”

Aidan stalked toward the walk-in closet as if he was going to get something, then stopped. “Oh shit, I forgot, I left it in the office. Give me a sec.”

Nonchalant, he slid out the door, making sure to close it behind him. The second he was in the hall, he sprang into action. He might ride a desk at the base, but he’d gone through basic training the same way Dylan had, and he was quicker than most people gave him credit for.

In no time, he grabbed the dining-room chair he’d stashed in the office and had the sturdy wooden back pressed up beneath the doorknob of his bedroom. The second the chair locked into place, he heard a muffled curse.

“What the hell, bro?” Dylan shouted. “Did you just barricade us in here?”

“Sure did,” Aidan replied.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, open the goddamn door.”

“Seriously, Aidan.” Claire’s voice now, laced with annoyance. “Let us out.”

“No can do, sweetheart. See, I’m tired as fuck of watching you two tiptoe around each other, or listening to you argue like a pair of preteens. It’s time you straightened your shit out.”

“
We’re
the preteens?” Dylan said incredulously. “You’re the one who locked us in here!”

He fought a grin. “It’s for your own good. And I suggest you use the time allotted to sit down and have a real talk, instead of bitching at one another the way you’re so fucking good at.”

Another muted curse, this one feminine and so vulgar his eyebrows shot up.

“Ah, sweetheart, such language,” he chided. “You’re better than that.”

“Fuck you, Aidan.”

“Yeah, fuck you, Aidan,” Dylan echoed.

Chuckling, he reached for the other item he’d liberated from the office, the cardboard box he’d set down on the hardwood.

As he opened the box, he heard Dylan murmur something to Claire, and not even the barrier between them could disguise the determination in the SEAL’s voice. But even without that telltale tone of voice, Aidan had known exactly what Dylan’s next move would be.