Jagger's Moves (2 page)

"Tyler?" A soft husky feminine voice disrupted his mental smack down of her unworthy suitor. "Tyler Jaggerstein?"

His head jerked up at the sound of his name on such luscious lips and all the moisture evaporated in his mouth. The goddess was talking to him? "Um...yeah? I mean…yes ma'am."

Oh, and wasn't he brilliant. Couldn't tell the Navy spent over a million dollars educating and training him. Sure, the majority of it was learning to blow shit up, shoot people, jump out of planes and other fun things, but they did make his BUD/S class learn the proper etiquette in case of formal events.

The muffled snort coming from slightly behind him had a flush of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. And he thanked his higher power for the desert tan he'd received as a side bennie from their last mission.

"Ty!" A smile worthy of poems, songs, and sonnet's curved her plush glossy lips even as she moved to untangle herself from her persistent suitor. In a move almost to fast for him to follow, the goddess hip checked the German dude, then in a move worthy of her title, sank her four inch heel into the older man's soft leather shoe.

The next thing Jagger knew, he had a goddess dashing into his arms and pressing her soft moist lips to his.

Softly she whispered against his mouth, "I'm so glad it's you. Missed you like crazy."

Then all thoughts of words, explanations, the German, even Trip disappeared as his mouth opened beneath the pressure of her tongue, and Jagger lost himself in the taste of goddess.

Chapter Two

Alexa Westlake knew she was taking advantage of Tyler, but hello, a chance to make a fantasy come true. What woman in her right hetero mind would turn away from the chance to live out a teenage fantasy? Shocked to see the man of her dreams, literally, looking hotter than any mortal should, changed her plans in an instant. Screw the typical tourist plans she'd made. Time with Tyler put any sunset ocean dinner cruise to shame.

The loose kaki cargo shorts, baggy white cotton T-shirt and beat up tennis shoes shouldn’t have her hands clenching to get him naked, but Lexa wanted in nothing but his sun kissed skin.

To have some quality time in bed with the man of her dreams, to hopefully finally put the happily ever after fantasies out of her mind meant she could get on with the rest of her life. She desperately needed to get on with her life and find a real guy to settle down with. A man who didn't think blowing things up or jumping out of airplanes into war zones was a good time.

Thanks to fate, the military, or even karma, Lexa finally had the chance to exorcise this man out of her system.

Reality shamed even her dirtiest dreams. Tyler tasted like a man. No breath mints, no lingering taste of martinis or lip-gloss to complete with his natural taste. Breathing through her nose, Lexa pressed deeper into his embrace, hoping he would get the unspoken message. And God Bless soldiers everywhere because her man followed orders perfectly as his strong arms slid around her waist to pull her tightly against his bulging arousal.

Shit, the pressure stroked her swollen clit perfectly. A few more hard rubs and she'd leave more than an impression on Tyler. His pants would hold a wet spot from her juices. Instead of stumbling back in shame or embarrassment, Lexa moved closer. Damn, the man was built and knew how to use every inch to bring her pleasure.

As Tyler teased her with his tongue, nibbled on her lips, and in general, did everything to make her knees shake and her pussy clench, Lexa was ready to rip this man's baggy clothes off and put herself on…him.

Just as she reached the waist of his shorts, Tyler pulled back, his breath heaving as his muscle-ripped chest rose and fell at a fast rate. He pressed his damp lips to her forehead while his rough palms stroked up and down her spine in a soothing rhythm.

"Shit, goddess…" His voice wasn't even as his breath tickled the tip of her ear. "We're in an airport." He gave a whole body shudder before slowly releasing his hold on her and stepping back.

"No shit, Jagger," the other man who'd been standing with him spoke up. "Get your mind out of your pants and focus. You do have other plans,
remember
?"

The emphasis the cowboy put on the last word let Lexa know another woman had to be involved. Only when two or more women came into the equation did men get that nervous
oh shit
look.

The edgy happiness barely formed fizzled at the words. And her plans to keep Tyler busy in bed died just as quickly. Sure, it had seemed like one of her story plots come to life when she spied Tyler just as she needed a quick rescue. What were the chances of seeing her childhood buddy and teenage pen pal in an airport so far from home?

Drawing on years of experience dealing and speaking in public, Lexa curved her lips in a vacuous smile. Taking a few steps back, she lifted her right arm and gave both men a casual wave. "It's been great seeing you again, Ty. Thanks for the rescue."

A quick look around assured her
Herr
Asshole had disappeared into the crowd while she'd been busy with Ty. She gave a quick prayer of thanks, shot Tyler and his buddy another smile, then turned on her heels.

Really, it was for the best, she tried to convince herself as she attempted to blend in with the other passengers, but since the airport was so small, Lexa stood out among the floral print, camera-draped tourists. What did she have in common with a gorgeous war hero decorated for his valor and courage? It looked like her investment in batteries would remain. Heaven knew she would be putting her favorite vibe through the paces tonight, thanks to Tyler and his amazing lips.

"Hey!"

Lexa ignored the irritated male growl and quickened her pace. Four inch heels were not made for airport dashing, especially not when being chased by two hunks in T-shirts, cargo shorts, and combat boots.

Spotting a women's restroom up ahead, Lexa put on a burst of speed and ducked through to the small four-room stall. Leaning against the wall by the sinks, she closed her eyes and tried to catch her breath. How the hell had her day turned out like this?

"Goddess, it's going to take more than a cartoon lady in a dress to scare us off." The seductive voice stroked her sensitive nerves even as she jumped and squeaked like a timid mouse.

"You can't be in here," she whispered as she pressed a hand over her heart. The organ raced beneath her palm and she prayed her doctor was honest at her last physical. He'd promised her good health and that included a warranty on her heart. Or at least, that's the way Lexa chose to interpret his clean bill of health speech.

And what the hell was she doing standing here like a brain-damaged debutante while two very big and overwhelming males towered over her in a small-enclosed space?

The cowboy friend looked around carefully. "Looks like we can." He punched Tyler in the arm before pointing to the far side of the room. "Hey, Jagger, they've got a vending machine in here. I knew chicks did more than drop trou in here. Why else would they always go in pairs and take so long?" He looked around the relatively clean room, complete with loveseat, floor lamp, and wicker wastebasket. "Shit, Jagger, it's like a little salon in here."

Tyler—she couldn’t think of him by his military nickname, not after knowing him as Tyler all her life—turned back to her, arms crossed over his wide chest. "Are all girls' bathrooms like this?" Ugh, she wanted to slam her head against the pretty pastel colored walls. Tyler or Jagger or whatever name he went by drove her nuts.

"Why? You have a bathroom fetish? The tidy-bowl man turn you on?" The words slipped out faster than her hand could move to cover her mouth.

Cowboy snickered then used two fingers to push the brim of his straw hat up. Husky blue eyes stared straight back at her and made the breath catch in her lungs. Holy snow cones in hell, this man was gorgeous with a capital G. No wonder he wore the hat tipped down. If hetero women caught sight of his angel/sinner face, the man would be mobbed and molested anytime he set foot in public. Sadly, while she could and did appreciate his stunning good looks, only one man made her panties damp and it wasn’t the hottie cowboy.

"Excuse me, gentlemen, but is there a reason you're in a ladies' restroom when neither one of you clearly are?" The strong yet elderly voice cut through the swamp of hormones currently drowning her.

Without missing a beat or turning his unnerving gaze away from Lexa's eyes, Cowboy spoke to the petite gray-haired woman who'd addressed them both. "Ma'am." He tipped his hat in the other woman's direction before dropping both arms to hang out at his side. "I'm confused." He said the last part as a whispered confession.

The little lady scooted closer to the big man, one hand patting his thick arm. "Confused, dear?"

"Yep, seems to me I just may be a lesbian stuck in a man's body."

How Cowboy kept a straight face while telling the grandmotherly woman one of the oldest and tackiest jokes on the planet, Lexa would never know.

****

Jagger wanted to smack the back of his buddy's head hard. Maybe with a baseball bat? Instead of looking guilty for feeding the nice old lady a line, Trip had simply charmed his way into the woman's good graces. Even earning the number for the local gay therapist before they'd both been firmly shoved outside the ladies' room.

"What crawled up your ass an' died?" Trip questioned in a low tone as he lounged against the brightly colored wall, his hat now firmly lowered to once again hide the top half of his face.

"You did," Jagger answered without thinking from his position next to his friend.

Without missing a beat, Trip replied, "Never been in your ass, Jagger, not really interested, but thanks for the offer. And you might want to try talking a bit more to your girl instead of me, maybe even toss in a smile or compliment. Ya know to throw her off balance."

Instead of punching the shit out of his closest friend, Jagger ran his hands through his hair and tugged. Nothing about this day was making any sense. First his mother set him up on a fool's errand to pick up a childhood friend. Then he meets a woman straight out of his most erotic fantasy and feels her up in the middle of a crowded airport. To top it all off, he stalks her into a women's public restroom like some kind of demented loser with no life.

"I'm thinking I should have stayed in bed this morning." If he had then none of these embarrassing things would have happened. But his hard as a pike cock reminded him he never would have met or kissed such an amazing woman.

"Kind of hard to rearrange time and space just 'cause you got your thong in a twist over a woman." Trip's voice carried low so only Jagger would be able to hear his remarks.

"You're an asshole," was Jagger only mature reply.

"Might be an asshole," Trip replied, a smile warming his voice. "But I at least figured out the identity of our mystery lady."

The words had Jagger launching himself off the wall and into his friend's personal space. A heartbeat away from grabbing Trip's shirt and pounding the answers out of his friend, Jagger took a careful step back. He made sure to take long even breaths, unclenching his fists in the process.

"What do you know?" he finally found calm long enough to ask.

"Well," Trip drawled out, his Texas accent more pronounced than ever. "Seems to me like the lady knew you. Knew you pretty well too considering she had her tongue down your throat, all nice and friendly like."

"So?" Jagger wasn't an ego driven guy, at least not when it came to women. Sure he looked good, his body needed to be in perfect shape in order to do what needed. The guys on the team relied on each other, had to or no mission would succeed.

The Navy ensured he had confidence in every other aspect of his life. There were multiple ways to kill a man engrained in his psyche, along with pretty much anything else the military felt necessary. So yeah, confidence in his job was one thing, but having strange gorgeous women throw themselves in his arms wasn't a normal every day occurrence.

There were always the women who hung around bars near the base, known to cater to military men and especially the SEALs. Fucking one the bunnies left him wishing he'd just jacked off. At least then he'd be more satisfied and wouldn't stink of perfume from a woman who only slept with him for bragging rights.

"So she's A—"

"She's standing right here, wondering what the hell is the matter with the two of you."

Both men jerked to attention, their gazes immediately landing on the goddess standing impatiently before them, arms crossed under her generous breasts and one heel tapping impatiently on the floor. Her stance shoved those lovely tits up enough to make Jagger's mouth water, and he couldn't drag his gaze away from the soft looking flesh. He wondered if her nipples were cherry red, soft pink, or that all too allusive dusky rose.

"My face is up here, boys." The arms supporting man's favorite body part, at least this man’s, dropped.

Reluctantly Jagger dragged his gaze away and up only to find furious deep green eyes sparking fire in his direction. And recognition slammed him in the gut.

"Fuck…Lexie?" The words wheezed out of his suddenly deflated lungs as the truth settled uncomfortably around him. When she gave a nod, her brow wrinkled slightly between her sleek brows, Jagger wanted to smack the shit out of himself and his best friend.

Damn it, they'd been ogling a woman he'd once thought of as the little sister he never had. Groaning, Jagger strode to a wooden bench nearby and sank into the hard seat before his legs gave out. Dropping his head into his hands, he wondered what the hell he was supposed to do now? Shit, his mother would ream his ass but good if she found out about this little stunt.

"Ty, please tell me you knew it was me. I mean when we were kissing."

He looked up enough to watch color flood her smooth cheeks before dropping his head again. Talk about rock and hard place. The Navy never trained him for situations this explosive. "Shit, Alexa," was all he could manage.

"Eloquent as always, buddy." Trip tossed his two cents in regardless of the death glare Jagger shot him. Why Trip always felt the need to fan a roaring fire Jagger didn't understand.