Saved by the SEAL (15 page)

I
t's difficult for me to think straight right now, but I'm pretty sure Grisham should have an award stowed away somewhere labeled “Orgasm-Giving Champion.” The things he did to me in that shower, with his tongue…I'm going to remember it every single time I'm in that room.

With ridiculous pleasure.

When I feel him sliding on top of me, I open my eyes, completely alert again. He hovers above me, supporting himself on his arms in a push-up position as he stares down at me. I'm trying to figure out the expression in his dark green eyes, but I can't quite place it.

Awe? Adoration?

Imagining that he could feel either one of those things for me is insane. But then he reaches and brushes my cheek with the back of his knuckles. The motion is so sweet, so tender, that an instant lump forms in my throat.

“Do you have any idea how fucking beautiful you are?” he whispers.

I can feel his erection prodding me, and I know he's ready to give himself over to me tonight. Physically. But is he ready to give himself to me in all the ways I want him?

I know it doesn't matter. I'm going to make love to Grisham tonight. I'm going to let him have me in any and every way he wants me, because I'm tired of waiting, too. I've wanted him since the second I laid eyes on him, and the fact that he wants me, too, makes risking my heart something I have to do.

I reach down, find his shaft hard and ready, and grip him tightly in my hand. He hisses, air escaping through his clenched teeth.

“Shit.” He gasps.

I watch him, his expression holding me captive as I slowly stroke him. His biceps are straining, the muscles bulging. I watch his eyes darken, and another curse falls from his lips when the pad of my thumb strokes the smooth head of his cock.

Biting my lip, I say what I'm thinking and to hell with the consequences. “I want you inside of me, Grisham. Right now.”

“Fuck, girl. You're gonna kill me.”

I smile to myself as he reaches over me and pulls open his bedside drawer. He pulls out a row of foil packets and tears one away from the rest with his teeth. I grab it from his mouth, ripping it open as we hold each other's stare. Not looking away from him, I reach between us and roll the condom on over him. Then I position him at my entrance.

Grisham hitches one of my legs up behind my knee, pushing my thigh into my chest. I feel the stretch in my body at the same time I feel the stretch of him filling me up as he pushes inside me with one firm thrust.

My eyes flutter closed and I moan, the feeling of having Grisham inside me exquisite and wonderful. He begins to move, and my body is awash in sensations
everywhere.
I feel it where we're connected; I feel it where his hand grips the back of my raised thigh. I feel it when he drops down and his chest pushes me into the bed, his forehead connecting with mine. I feel it where his knee beside mine digs into the bed, supporting his steady movements.

My hips rock with him, meeting him thrust for thrust, and a chorus of whimpers echoes around the room. When I realize that I'm the one making those sounds, I'm not even embarrassed. Being with Grisham like this has completely changed everything for me. I'm open to him, laid bare, and I don't give two shits.

I'm his.

Almost as if he can read my thoughts, he whispers, his lips brushing mine: “You're mine, Grits.”

I simply answer with the truth. “I'm yours.”

A possessive growl leaves him, and he thrusts harder, faster, which amps my sensations up to a dangerous level. Without any warning at all, I'm climbing high again, and my nails rake down his back. I'm falling over the edge with an intensity that scares me but that I know is right.

Grisham turns his head, whispering in my ear as his hips continue to piston into mine. “Listen to me, Grits. Making you come has just become the single most important goal in my life. I want another one.”

He slows down his rhythm, and our eyes both drift to the place where his flesh slides slowly in and out of mine. It's like a fantasy for me, watching a guy this hot watch me. And just like that, my intensity is ratcheting up again. My hands fly to the sheet, gathering up handfuls and squeezing. Grisham sits back, not allowing our bodies to disconnect, and reaches between us. As I feel his finger find my clit, stroking me once, twice, three times, I fly to pieces again right in front of him.

This time, I think a piece of my soul came apart with me.

Then Grisham leans forward again, and he's thrusting into me with reckless abandon. When his breath comes fast and hard, I know he's almost there. I allow my nails to drift up over his perfect ass, up the sides of him, and over his chest, and he trembles above me.

“Oh, my God,” he rasps as he comes, his body jerking wildly for a second before he collapses on top of me.

We lie there for minutes or maybe an hour, just breathing each other in. When Grisham rolls over, I miss him immediately, feeling cold and lonely. But he doesn't go far, merely removing the condom and throwing it in the trash can in the bathroom before walking back to the bed and climbing in beside me. He folds his arms around me, bringing my body to rest on top of his.

My hair creates a veil over us as we stare into each other's eyes.

“That was…” I trail off.

“Something we're going to repeat later,” he finishes with a slow and sexy grin.

I nod my head, a giggle escaping me. “Yeah.”

We lay silently, he on his back, cradling me into his side. I allow my fingers to trail lazy figure eights along his shoulders, chest, abdomen. Marveling at how he's made of steel.

“I really like these,” I admit, tracing the lines of his colorful ink.

“Yeah?” he murmurs, glancing down at me. “You don't have any, though.”

I shake my head, still eyeing him. “I've always thought about it, but never could decide on a design I wanted on my body forever. Tell me about yours?”

He's quiet for a moment, and my hand stills. I begin to wonder if maybe he doesn't want to discuss his tats.

“This one,” he says softly, pointing to the right side of his chest, “is a knight with his steed. It represents all the times I needed to be that for my mom, and that if I ever had the chance I would be.”

My heart swells. “You've done that.”

He nods slowly, tracing the thick, black, tribal markings in between the large, colorful images. “I hope so.”

He points to the opposite side of his chest. “This anchor, obviously, is for the navy. I thought the rope tied around it just made it look even more awesome. I thought I'd be tied to the navy for life. I was wrong.”

His voice gets lower, fuller of unshed emotion, and I brush my hand softly over the anchor. His muscles jump under my touch.

“What about this one?” I run my fingers over the reptilian scales covering the tops of both arms. They're green and gold, and blue and red, the colors shifting and blending perfectly together. “They're so awesome.”

“These signify me shedding my skin.” His voice is wry, one eyebrow quirking upward. “They were the first tattoos I got, when I chose to go my own way. After everything that happened with Berkeley, and my dad...I broke free from him for the first time in my life. I was finally doing what I wanted to do.” He chuckles lightly. “I knew it would piss him off. That just made it sweeter.”

I kiss the scales, and then I allow my lips to trail across his chest. My tongue darts out to lick first one nipple, and then the other. Grisham sucks in a breath, his hand tightening on my hip where it lay.

I glance up at him. “I think I'm ready for you to make good on that promise.”

I close my teeth around his skin and he hisses.

“Fuck.”

I kiss the sore spot and trail my tongue over it to soothe the sting.

“What promise?” He grinds out the words, all of his muscles going taut.

“The one you made about promising to make me feel like that again.”

His lips tip up in a smirk. “Oh, that promise.”

Those are the last words he says before he pushes himself up and hovers above me. His eyes sear me as he lets them travel slowly over my body.

“I'll make good on that one as many times as you want.”

J
ust before the sun was up this morning, I was awake, just like normal. Something that wasn't normal was the fact that a naked Greta lay next to me, tangled in my charcoal-gray sheets. I couldn't help what happened next, rolling her over onto her back and running my hands and my tongue over every inch of her gorgeous body.

The memory of it causes a smile to cross my face as I walk into work this morning at the base.

Knowing that my team will be deploying without me at the first of next year is still rough, but I'm dealing with it much better, now that Jacob has decided to hire me as part of the team at Night Eagle.

As the end of my naval career draws closer, I'm putting less time in at the base. I usually just go in for the mornings, and then I stop at Night Eagle after lunch to consult on assignments there.

Today goes exactly this way. After I grab a quick sandwich at a deli following four hours working at the base, I pull into the Night Eagle parking lot and lock the Jeep. The first face that greets me when I walk in the door is Greta's, and I'm pulled right back into the previous night spent holding her in my arms. My body reacts to the mere sight of her, and a big, goofy grin spreads across my face.

She looks up from the desk, smiling when she sees me, too. I walk straight to her desk, lean over the front of it, and brush my lips across hers.

When she pulls away, her face is flushed and her eyes shine up at me. “Hey, there.”

Her voice is a little breathless, which I like. It means I affect her the same way she affects me, and it's nice not to feel alone in this whole crazy thing that's happening between us. I can no longer deny or refute the fact that it's happening.

And even though the thought of my darkness swallowing up her light scares the shit out of me, I'm beginning to think her sunshine may be the only thing lighting my way.

And after last night, I damn sure want to make certain it's happening with me and only me.

Propping a hip on the side of her desk, I lean toward her.

“I haven't been able to get you outta my head this morning, Grits.”

A pretty pink tinge spreads across her cheeks, and she glances up at me through her long, black lashes. “Me, too. Last night…and this morning…were incredible.”

I nod. “It was that. So, this”—I gesture between the two of us—“it's happening. And I want it to be happening on repeat. And only between the two of us.”

A slow smile curls her lips upward. “Are you saying you want to make this official, Abbot?”

I only have to lean forward another inch to recapture her mouth. I let her know with my kiss that hell yes, I want to make this official.

When I pull away, she nods. “Okay, then. We're doing this.”

Elation fills me up like a helium balloon. “Yeah, girl. We're doing this.”

A throat clears behind me, and when I turn, Kyle is standing next to the office door. He looks uncomfortable, clearly not having meant to walk in on such an intimate moment.

“Oh, hey, man,” I greet him, rising from Greta's desk. “I was just heading in to see if Jacob needs me for anything today.”

Kyle nods, continuing his path toward the desk. As we pass each other, he doesn't glance at me. I shrug, throwing a wink back at Greta before closing myself inside Jacob's office.

He's alone in the room, poring over some documents at his desk. But he looks up when I come in, and nods briskly at me. It's rare for Jacob Owen to smile, so a nod is all I expect in greeting.

“Afternoon, son,” he says gruffly.

“Good afternoon, sir. Just checking in with you to see if you need me today. Where're the guys?”

Jacob points toward the brown leather couch, indicating that I take a seat. I do so, facing the row of windows overlooking the ocean while he sits opposite me.

“Teague is delivering a threat assessment system we developed for the state police. Should be a one-day job. Conners and Shaw are on a security detail over in Raleigh for the remainder of the week. They'll be back Saturday for the event.”

I rack my brain, certain I haven't been told about an event. “What event would that be?”

Jacob's lips twist in what could be a smile, although it could also be a grimace. The dude's face just doesn't give much away. He's super hard to read. “That's what I wanted to talk to you about today, Abbot. Do you own a nice suit?”

I nod solemnly. I own several nice suits. But what…

“Yes, sir.”

He nods. “Good. On Saturday, we're having an event for our current and potential clients. All of our local clients are expected, and several of our long-distance clients will likely be flying in. There will be shitloads of possible future clients, and we're putting our best foot forward on this. Greta's a huge part of the details, but Kyle has planned the whole thing from the ground up. We do these a few times a year. I fucking hate them. But I know the ass-kissing has to be done.”

I try to rein in my grin. Picturing Jacob Owen kissing anyone's ass is a stretch. But he runs a successful firm here, and I know he knows exactly what he's doing.

“And you want me to attend?”

Now Jacob throws me a rare smirk. “Shouldn't you already be attending? I don't expect Greta plans on going alone.”

Okay, so the man's not blind. Shit, was I supposed to ask his permission to date his daughter or something?

Clearing my throat uncomfortably, I look him in the eye. “Sir…”

He waves a hand dismissively. “Don't, Abbot. My daughter's a grown-up. She'd kick my ass from here to kingdom come if she thought I was interfering. But if you ever hurt her…” He lets the sentence die, but I catch his meaning in its entirety.

“I understand, sir. I would never hurt her.”

He nods, like that's enough for him. “I know you're not starting full-time at NE until January, but I'd like to introduce you as the newest member of the team, get clients used to seeing your face.”

“Wow. Yeah…okay. I'll be there.”

“With a suit on,” he reminds me.

“With a suit on.”

Kyle opens the office door then. Closing it behind him, he heads over to his desk and sits down.

“That's it for today, Abbot. Tomorrow you can work with Teague on drawing up a master security plan for Jettison Labs' corporate offices. They're opening sometime next year, a new branch of their multinational here in Wilmington.”

I stand. “I'll be there. Greta and I are going to train this afternoon, though. So I'll be around if you need anything.”

He nods, already absorbed again in whatever task he was working on before I arrived. I exit his office, looking for Greta.

I find her in the lounge. Sneaking up behind her, I wrap my arms around her waist and move her long braid to one side, revealing the slender perfection of her neck.

I put my lips there, sucking lightly as she tenses under my hands. Then she immediately relaxes.

“Hey,” I murmur. “How'd you know it was me? I could be some stranger, kissing on your neck. You just relaxed right into me.”

She sighs, her eyes closing. “I knew it was you.”

“How?” Curiosity gets the best of me, and I lift my head to look at her.

Her eyes remain closed. “Your smell. The feel of your hands. The way your lips mold to my skin. All distinctly Grisham.”

Pleasure rockets through me, accumulating in my chest. I pull her closer, allowing my hands to slide down the skirt she's wearing and pull up the material of her skirt just a little bit. My palms rest on her thighs. Her perfectly shaped, supple thighs.

“Ah,” I whisper. “So you always know when it's me?”

Her head falls back against my chest. “Always.”

“Good.” I bite her earlobe, and I'm not gentle. She moans, which causes my manhood to stand at attention. Her hips press back into me, and my fingers dig into her thighs.

Remembering where we are, I reluctantly release her, coming around to stand beside her. I grab a bottle of water out of the fridge. “You know your dad knows about us, right?”

She chokes, sputtering on the sip of coffee she'd just downed. I rub her back, smiling. “You okay?”

She nods, looking at me with an alarmed expression on her face. “Did he say something to you?”

I lean casually against the counter and sip my water. “Just that he'll kill me if I hurt you.”

“Oh, my God.”

Laughing, I kiss her cheek. She's fucking adorable. “It's to be expected.”

“You're okay with him knowing?”

I hold her gaze. “I told you earlier, remember? We're doing this. For real.”

She breathes an obvious sigh of relief. “Okay, then.”

Tapping her lightly on the nose, I frown at her. “Are we doing something important this weekend?”

She gazes at me blankly.

“Isn't there an important client event you forgot to tell me about?”

She jumps. “Oh, yeah! You're coming, right?”

Putting my water down on the counter, I put my hands on her waist and pull her toward me. “Oh, I'm coming. With you as my date.”

Her mouth tips up in a smile. “Okay.”

I grab my water and smack her ass. She yelps, scowling at me. “Now, go get that cute ass in some sweatpants. We've got training to do.”

“That's it. One, two, switch your feet. Knee up!” I grunt as her knee plants sharply into the pad at my midsection. With every training session she takes, she's growing more confident in her movements. She trusts her body more now than she did when we first started, throwing punches with smooth calculation. She never takes her eyes off her target, never leaves her face unprotected.

It's amazing.

She's
amazing.

She's strong, and she's confident.

And she's my girl. Which is the most inspiring part of all.

Smirking, she pulls off her gloves and wipes at her forehead. “I did good, right? That hurt, didn't it?”

I shake my head at her, smiling. “Yeah, Grits. You did good. You didn't hurt me, though.”

Quick as a flash, she brings her knee back up. But I'm quicker, catching her foot with one hand and letting the other wrap around her hips so she won't fall.

“Damn,” she curses through clenched teeth. “I thought I had you.”

I drop her leg and pull her in close until I can smell the heady mixture of flowers and sweat radiating from her skin. I nuzzle her neck, and she gasps. “I know you, Greta. So I anticipated what you were going to do. An attacker won't be so lucky. You're capable of kicking some serious ass. I swear.”

She winds her arms around my neck. In her tight, hot-pink pants and the black sports bra she's wearing, I can feel every curve in her body molding to every flat plane of mine. Fire races through my veins, and I wish like hell we weren't at Night Eagle where anyone could walk in on us at any moment.

I need her to myself.

“Come over tonight?” I ask, my voice like the rough slide of sandpaper.

“Count on it,” she says, just before her mouth sears to mine.