Protected by a SEAL: Hot SEALs (Volume 5) (17 page)

Ignoring a communication during a mission was so wrong it could have gotten him in deep shit when he’d been in the teams. Rick knew that, but he let the phone buzz on. He’d call back.

Without missing a stroke, Sierra reached out and grabbed the phone. Apparently, she was not as intent on ignoring the call as he was. She slid off his cock long enough to hit to answer the call and then tossed the phone onto his chest and went right back to what she’d been doing.

Shit. Now he had to talk. Trying to not sound as if he was doing what he was doing, Rick blew out a breath and then pressed the cell to his ear. “Yeah.”

“Hey.” Jon’s voice came through the earpiece.

Rick loved this man like a brother but the last thing he wanted to be doing right now is talking to him. “Hey.”

“You okay? Is everything good there?”

“Yeah, it’s all good here. Sorry. I was uh, just working out. I’m a little out of breath.” Rick felt Sierra’s chuckle vibrate straight through his cock. He needed to wrap up this call. “What’s up?”

“I got news.”

“Yeah?” Rick pulled the phone away from his face as she chose that moment to add both hands to the mix of what she was already doing to him with her mouth.

The combination of sensations was enough to have him squeezing his eyes closed as he clenched his teeth to stop from making a sound. That would be sure to tip off Jon that it wasn’t exercise that had him breathless.

“We turned those letters over to the cops. There’s no return address but all of them required additional postage because he was sending her homemade cards and pressed flowers and shit, so he actually had to go to the post office and have them weighed. They think because of that they’ve got enough to find an address on the guy. As soon as they do, they’re moving in. We might have you home again tomorrow.”

“Wow. Okay. Keep me informed.”

“You got it. I’ll call in the morning.”

“Yeah. Bye.” Rick cut off the call with the bare minimum of formalities and tossed the cell onto the mattress.

Holy shit, this woman had some crazy skills.

His willpower was no match for her or her probing fingers and apparent lack of a gag reflex. She seemed to double her efforts the moment he hung up with Jon.

There was no more need for Rick to remain quiet.

A shout he couldn’t have controlled even if he wanted to burst from him as Sierra never let up, riding out his orgasm like a champion.

Finally, she flopped onto her back next to him. “Who was on the phone?”

He laughed. He was barely able to breathe yet and she wanted to talk. “Jon.”

“What’s happening with the case?”

“He’s going to call with an update in the morning.” Rick swiveled his head toward her, trying not to feel guilty.

It wasn’t exactly a lie. Just a selection of the truth. That wasn’t so bad.

What was bad, however, was his secret hope that the police would take their time locating this guy, because the last thing he wanted to do was leave their humble love shack anytime soon.

The countdown clock to the end was now ticking.

With that in mind, Rick rolled over on top of Sierra. He scraped his teeth over the delicate flesh of one rosy nipple treating her to the same exquisite torture she’d employed on him. And just like him, she liked it—he felt the tremor run through her.

They were a good match, him and her, in the verbal sparring arena and in bed.

He moved down her body, again silently willing the police to take their time and give him at least a couple more days. But then, a month of this might not be enough time for him to have had his fill of Sierra.

Rick absorbed every nuance of her as he worked his way over her body with hands and mouth. The silky smooth warmth of her skin. The scent of her, part clean soap and part aroused woman. The sound of her gasp as he spread her legs and bowed his head to taste of her. The tremble in her thighs and eventually the sound of her cries as he pushed her over the edge.

But he wasn’t ready to ease off of her yet.

He pushed her further until she squirmed to get away from him, eventually giving in to his will as she let him drive her higher.

Finally, she writhed away from him.

Gasping she pushed at his head. “Too much.”

It was never too much, in his opinion, but he let her off easy and pulled himself up the bed, flopping onto his back next to her.

That’s when the damn phone buzzed again somewhere amid the rumpled and tangled sheets.

She wiggled, reached beneath her and emerged with his cell phone. He stuck his hand out for her to hand it over, but she didn’t. Instead, she squinted at the display.

“It’s from Jon.
Tango located. Moving in.
” Sierra spun her head to face him. “What’s that mean?”

Rick let out a sigh of resignation. The honeymoon was over. Or at least would be very soon. “It means the police found the guy sending you all those letters and they’re going to get him.”

Her eyes widened. “So it’s over? We can go home?”

“Not quite yet, but yeah, probably soon.”

“Like tomorrow?”

“Maybe.”

“Thank God. Roger and the studio will be very happy to hear that.”

Unfortunately, Rick was not equally as excited by Jon’s good news. He watched her roll toward the nightstand and reach for the pill bottle but before she could reach, he grabbed her by the hips and pulled her until her back pressed against his chest.

“Don’t take that yet.” He was counting their remaining time together in hours now instead of days and he wasn’t going to waste any of it.

Rick was more than ready. His cock only knew she was close, not how close he was to saying goodbye to her sweet body.

He didn’t wait for permission as he plunged into her wet heat.

CHAPTER 19

Sierra woke to the sound of the shower running. She hadn’t felt Rick get out of bed. She was usually a light sleeper, but last night at Rick’s urging she’d taken a sleeping pill.

Of course, he’d only let her take the pill after he’d already worn her out the old fashioned way.

She stretched and felt even more sore than she had last night.

Muscles she hadn’t worked in a long time protested, aching as she moved to get herself up and out of the bed.

She’d slept but the residual effect of the sleeping pill left her feeling groggy.

Typical sedative hangover. She needed coffee.

Uh, oh? Had Rick brought coffee?

Her brain was running a bit slow so she had to think. She’d only really seen him unloading the cooler, and she’d seen what he’d had out to cook dinner last night. She didn’t know everything else he might have brought.

God, she hoped there was a nice fresh pound of grinds down there. She didn’t even care what brand. She’d drink it and be happy.

If he hadn’t he’d just have to go out and get coffee, or else she’d go herself and she wouldn’t care who recognized her.

A memory hit her as her brain slowly woke. She recalled a text from Jon to Rick about moving in on the stalker.

Today could end her captivity.

That realization was almost as good as caffeine to wake her up and get her moving.

Smiling just at the thought of going back to work and feeling safe again, she grabbed the closest thing she could find. Rick’s T-shirt. She pulled it over her nakedness and didn’t bother with anything else.

She’d have to come up and shower as soon as he was done, so why get dressed? He’d rented the whole shack so they’d have privacy and she intended to take advantage of it.

Feeling lighter than she had in days, Sierra padded down the stairs in bare feet, turned the corner and got smacked with one hell of a view.

Inside the kitchen she paused in her pursuit of caffeine to take in the intense color of the sky and the water as the sun rose over the horizon. She knew the water was out there, but it wasn’t until now she’d taken the time to appreciate it.

She enjoyed the vista as she tried to think like Rick and figure out where he might have stashed the coffee.

If she were a food obsessed brute with an unhealthy controlling streak and surprising kitchen skills, where would she stash the coffee?

She glanced around the kitchen and added
neat freak
to her list of descriptions for Rick. Everything was clean and organized, put away in its proper place as if he hadn’t cooked a big meal just twelve hours before.

 
Her gaze hit on a coffeemaker plugged into the wall on the counter beneath a row of overhead cabinets. Holding her breath, Sierra hoped for the best and pulled open the door just above the coffeemaker.

She smiled wide. There it was, a bag of coffee grinds, just as she suspected it might be. Where else would Mr. Organized put the coffee but above the maker?

Okay, so he was both annoying and handy to have around. She had grown enough over the past few days to be able to admit that freely about her bodyguard.

There was a package of filters next to the bag of coffee. She didn’t know if Rick had brought them or if they came with the rental, but she was grateful the filters were there.

Luckily, the coffeemaker was one of the idiot-proof kinds. Water there. Filter and grinds there. One button to push. Done.

Nothing to do but wait and that wasn’t even for very long. The simple but hardworking maker chugged along and shortly announced its job complete with a pop and a hiss.

Opening the door of the fridge, Sierra found Rick had brought a small container of whole milk. Good enough. Beggars couldn’t be choosers. She’d save her soymilk lattes for when she was at Starbucks. Here, seaside in a surf shack rental, good old-fashioned whole milk seemed to fit.

Another pull of a door and Sierra found the glassware and dishes. She grabbed a mug and poured herself a steaming hot cup, then splashed some milk into the cup’s black depths.

After searching a couple of drawers, she found a spoon, gave the mug a stir and was done. He hadn’t brought artificial sweetener but that would have been too much to ask. She could do without.

She brought the mug to her lips, drew in the aroma of the brew and finally she was ready to take her first blessed sip.

Now that coffee had been acquired, she wanted to see the view without the salt spray coating the windows obscuring it.

It took having to put the mug down and her using two hands against the stuck door to loosen the swollen wood but after a second it released, sending her stumbling.
 
She reached for her mug on the table by the door and headed out into the sunshine.

Facing the water, she closed her eyes, tilted her head back and absorbed the incredible feel of the warmth of the sun on her face while breathing in the fresh air.

There was water in Miami, where she called home when she wasn’t on the road nine months out of the year, but Miami was a city.

This . . . this was almost deserted. There were houses, yes, but at this time of morning and in early March, it felt like she was the only person on the island.

Sierra moved forward, cradling the mug between her hands to absorb the warmth. The heat of the day had yet to take hold and there was a nip in the air. The little bit of a breeze off the water wrapped the bottom of Rick’s shirt tight to her thighs.

Taking another sip she stared out at the water and listened to the sound of the birds. It was a near perfect morning.

When was the last time she’d had one of those?

Hard to enjoy nature when she was in a hotel behind black out curtains. Or to enjoy the morning when she was rushing to get to the studio and into the makeup chair.

Maybe after this movie was done she should take a trip, if she could wedge it in before the start of the next movie, which would be followed by the press tour for this one.

Fame. Money. She had everything she always thought she’d wanted. Funny that once she had it all, it turned out what she really wanted was just a little bit of peace.

“Good morning.” Rick’s deep voice directly behind her had Sierra glancing over her shoulder to frown at him.

“Stop sneaking up on me.”