Contract with a SEAL (Special Ops: Homefront Book 3) (10 page)

His rhythm was gentle at first, his hands
skimming her breasts, out to her shoulders, her arms, and then to her hands. “Violet,”
he said, his voice barely a whisper. “Not Vi. It’s too harsh, too brief, too
simple.”

Her eyelids half shut, she savored the
feel of him inside of her. “Right now, I’ll answer to whatever you want to call
me.”

“Mine then. I’ll call you mine for
tonight.” Grasping her hands tightly now, rendering her immobile, he quickened
the thrusts.

She found it erotic to watch his chest
above her, and the ripples of his abs all the way down to where they were
joined together. Momentarily, she was convinced she was having some wild dream—as
if the real world couldn’t possibly include a man who looked like this, felt
like this, and made her feel such exploding passion.

His eyes were intense, and his gaze
turned every square inch of her skin into an erogenous zone. Thrusting harder
now, her sweat-soaked body shivered with need beneath him. Climbing and
climbing, her heart slammed in her chest as her breaths quickened, making her
lightheaded, yet still wanting more.

Exploding, she cried out his name,
arching her back and neck against the soft pillow. Like powerful waves on the
ocean in a tropical storm, the spasms rocked her body over and over, as her
hands finally broke free from his grasp.

Yet still it wasn’t enough.

She wanted more.

Demanded
more, digging her fingers into his firm shoulders,
her wet folds tight around his cock, wanting him deeper still. She pressed on
his chest, trying to push him onto his back, a useless gesture against his
strength. But he followed her lead and pulled her on top of him, letting her
straddle him. Riding his full length, savoring the slick feeling as she took him
in, then feeling the pressure against her womb, she moaned low, deep, and
desperate.

Slowly, oh-so-slowly, she pulled herself
up from him and, already feeling empty, fell harder down on him this time, causing
her to gasp from the pressure. He was hard as steel, and she wondered how he
could keep the control for so long. Too long, she thought, aching to feel that
power and control over him—to know that he felt the need to give in to
this passion as deeply as she did.

He moved her to her side, pulling her leg
high up on his hip and thrusting so, so tenderly now. “Don’t rush it, Violet. We’ve
got all night,” he assured her as he took a breast in his mouth, sucking and
nipping till she nearly expired from desire. Overcome with need, she toyed with
herself as he slid deeply in and out of her.

“That’s it, Violet,” his voice, barely a
murmur, encouraged her. “That’s it.”

Letting another climax unfold inside of
her, it crackled like shafts of lightning, radiating from her center.

“You are so beautiful when you come,” he
said, moving her onto her back again.

“Let me see you do the same, then. Let
me, Joe.” Letting her hips rise and fall instinctively, she took him deeper as
he thrust.

“Not without you,” he said, his voice low
and husky.

She shook her head slowly, thoroughly,
from side to side on the pillow. “Don’t think—” she paused, breathless.
“Don’t think I can.”

But just as the words escaped her, she
felt him deep inside her, pounding, pulsating, and firing off every nerve
ending in her body. Heat pooled inside of her again, as he thrust. Deeper.
Harder. Faster. A rhythm that seemed to flow from the intensity she saw in his
eyes.

Raw need edged out her exhaustion. Instinct
took over, and desperation coiled her body into a tight helix.

“Oh…” she moaned, the heat searing
her—too much, too intense—yet so dangerously addictive that she
knew she’d never be the same after this night with this man.

This man, she thought, her eyes wide open
this time, taking him in, memorizing how he looked as the force of his need
grew inside of him.

Higher and higher, her own passion
ascended and she succumbed, feeling her soul leap, free-fall, just as she felt
him finally shatter inside of her.

No headache.

It might be an odd first realization as
Vi sprung into semi-consciousness nestled into the hotel bed with the feel of a
SEAL’s body pressed up behind her.

But it was the first thought she had.

No headache.

No hangover.

So if she couldn’t blame alcohol for her
lapse in judgment, what could she blame?

Her eyes opened to the sight of Joe’s
muscular forearm draped over her side, and resting possessively in front of
her.

Oh, yeah. Who could have good judgment
around a man who looks like this?

But what now? Vi wasn’t familiar with the
norms that needed to be played out the morning after a so-called fling. Was she
supposed to gather her things quietly and sneak out of the room? Beat her chest
proudly and scratch another notch in her metaphorical bedpost? Text her friends
that she had the bragging rights that came with doing a SEAL CO?

The first option seemed to fit best into
her personality.

Gently lifting his arm and resting it on
his side, she glanced briefly at his closed eyes. He looked almost harmless
when she looked at him this way, neck-up and sound asleep. But from the neck
down, the man had the body of a warrior. And when those eyes opened, they radiated
dominance.

She blushed, remembering how thoroughly
dominated she had felt last night.

Skulking across the room to the bathroom,
she fled to the shower. Stepping in, the steam struck her first, warming the
muscles she had stretched into positions she never dreamed possible the night
before. The water pounded against her skin, and she imagined it washing away her
multitude of her sins, sending them down the drain along with the soap bubbles.

Thoroughly scrubbed and ready for the
day, Vi donned the robe she found hanging in the closet and shifted back to the
bedroom where she was greeted by the tempting smell of coffee brewing in the
hotel room’s coffeemaker.

“Good morning.” Smiling, he stood at the
other side of the room, looking like he stepped from a Hanes ad in his briefs. “Thought
you might need a cup of coffee.”

Vi forced herself to smile, trying to
wipe away any of the embarrassment that was still gnawing at her insides.
“Morning. Yeah, thanks. That’s just what I need.” She spotted her overnight bag
next to the bed and wondered what was expected in this situation. She had to
get dressed, and seeing as he had surveyed every inch of her body last night,
she shouldn’t feel so awkward dropping her robe in front of him now, in the
morning light.

Yet she did feel awkward. Painfully so.

When he turned his back to her to pour the
coffee, she made a beeline for the bag and dressed as quickly as she could. He
seemed to loiter at the coffeemaker, back still toward her, for a while longer
than necessary, and she knew instinctively he was giving her a little more time
to get dressed.

God, this man could read her like a book.
Either that, or she wasn’t as good at concealing the fact that this was her
first one-night-stand in her life.

And her last, she resolved then and
there. A woman like her wasn’t built for this sort of thing. She couldn’t
exactly regret last night—how could she when it would fuel her dreams for
the next decade?—but she hadn’t expected the stab of hurt in knowing she
couldn’t have it again.

And again. And again till the last of her
days.

Finally turning, holding two cups in his
hands, he extended one to her. “Want to grab breakfast downstairs?”

“No,” Vi responded quickly. “I—I
have a lot of things I need to do today back home. Big week at work coming up. I
should probably… get back home… right away.” She fumbled nearly every other
word.

He stepped toward her, and brushed his
hand against her cheek. “You’re not feeling regret over last night, are you?”

Vi’s laugh was forced. “No! No, not at
all. And thanks, you know, for… everything. I really… needed it.”
Ugh!
Could
she sound any lamer?

She paused, wincing as she gulped down
the acidic coffee. Where did hotels buy this stuff, anyway? As he stepped
closer toward her, she pressed her hand against his chest, and tried to ignore
how it felt, feeling his warmth against her hand. She could get used to that
feeling. Oh, God, she could get used to it.

Her eyes widened in horror. This was not
part of the deal. No emotion afterward. Hadn’t she promised something like that
to him the night before?

No clinging. That was it.

And don’t be pathetic.

She patted his chest a couple times
quickly and then stepped backward to the bed, gathering up her belongings as
quickly as she could.

“Are you sure? I’m in town anyway. We
could spend a little time this morning playing tourist if you’d like.”

“No. Thanks, though. It’s nice of you to
offer.” She slipped into the bathroom and grabbed her hairbrush, toothbrush,
and toiletry bag. She still needed to brush her teeth, she realized, but opted
that a quick bolt to her car right now was the best thing she could possibly
do. “You’re so sweet to try to make me feel, you know, less awkward about this
with the offer. But I’m really happy with the deal we struck. And I don’t want
to hold you here longer than I already have.”

He sat on the bed. “All right. Whatever
you’re comfortable with, Vi.”

She listened closely to his words to
listen for any hint of rejection or annoyance in his voice. But there was none.
None, of course, because he was Joe, a man who, unlike her, was impossible to
read in a moment like this.

No wonder he did well in war. The enemy
never knew what the hell he was thinking.

She slipped on her shoes and dared to sit
on the bed beside him. “Joe, thanks again for what you did last night. I mean,
at the gala. It really helped me in more ways than you know.”

He turned to her, taking her hand. “I
know, Vi. You did the same for me last weekend.”

Vi laughed, hoping he couldn’t hear her
heart cracking slightly with each passing minute. “Oh, I don’t think you were
quite as desperate for help as I was. But you’re welcome, just the same. I
really had fun meeting everyone there, and getting to know… you.”

So much fun. So damn much fun.
Her mind wandered to sitting in front of
his fireplace with him till the wee hours, walking around Williamsburg in the
chilly morning, meandering through the ballroom last night with him at her
side. And the hours after that—she doubted she’d ever be able to erase
them from her memory.

“Me, too.”

Vi felt a sudden ache lodged in her
chest. She hated that she had feelings for this man, and suddenly the idea of
him disappearing on her—going off to the other side of the planet and
being in danger on missions…

Sick suddenly, sick with worry, sick with
regret that she had promised she’d disappear from his life after this, she
stepped back from him.

To hell with not being able to be a part
of his future. Right now she’d settle for simply knowing he was still alive in
the coming months. Would it be too much to ask for a text from time to time?

But no, that wasn’t the plan.

Her eyes feasted on him, one last time,
memorizing the blue in his eyes, the hard edges of his patrician features, the curves
of his muscular form.

No, she’d make no demands on him. There
had to be plenty of women like Vi in his past. If every one of them demanded
status reports each time he went on a mission, he may as well forget individual
texting and just open up a Twitter account.

Leaning over, she pressed her lips
lightly to his cheek. It took every ounce of control she had to not prolong the
kiss, but she managed, and stood up, touching the coarse stubble on his chin, a
rarity for him. She’d add this one to the collection of images she had stowed
away in her mind. Joe Shey, minus the smooth-shaven skin of a SEAL CO.

Trying to ignore the feel of her heart
splitting in two, she forced a smile. “You have a nice life, Joe.”

A nice, safe, long life.

“You too, Violet.” She heard him say the
name he called her last night as she turned from him, grabbing her bag and
ducking out the door. Quickly, so quickly, her feet raced to the elevator,
needing desperately to put as much space between him and her.
Don’t turn
back. Don’t turn back.

Yet still as she stood in the silent hall
waiting for the chime of the elevator’s arrival, she longed to hear a door open
down the hall, and his voice call her back.

Already, she was aching to be near him
again. The elevator doors opened, and with a quick glance down the hall, she
entered it, noticing how she could still feel the warmth of his cheek on her
lips as she pressed the “lobby” button. She felt the low vibration as the
elevator moved, taking her further from him, closer to the fresh air she
desperately needed to fill her lungs.

Closer to home.

Stepping outside, she handed her ticket
to the valet.

As she waited, she felt a blush creeping
up her cheeks, remembering the indescribable feel of him inside of her. Or was
that blush just from the cold? After all, she was standing on Massachusetts
Avenue in the winter with wet hair. She should feel some measure of
embarrassment, escaping the luxury hotel with no makeup and wet hair pulled
back in a ponytail. But no one would recognize her without cake makeup, a
stylish suit, and perfect hair.

Right now, she was just Vi Owens. Not the
financial correspondent always in control of an interview, cool and calm under
pressure, with her quick and easy smile each time the market showed promise. Instead,
she was Vi Owens, the woman who just had a fling that will make every future
lover look scrawny and unskilled in the bedroom by comparison.

Nope, it was definitely the memory of
last night that was turning her cheeks the color of canned beets, she decided
after climbing into her warm car and seeing the blush remain in her reflection
in the rear view mirror.

She’d had no idea a man’s body could
perform like that. What the hell had she been missing all these years?

Her first serious boyfriend was in
college, a guy her college roommate nicknamed “Two-Pump Paul” after Vi had let
it slip how long he lasted.

Her second one was just after she
graduated. He was a step in the right direction. At least he seemed to
understand female anatomy to some extent. But when he’d leave the bed to clean
up and throw the condom in the trash, she too frequently found she had to
finish herself off on her own.

Then there was Joshua. Sex with him was
more like a business transaction. And with her limited experience, it seemed
par for the course. But even in the heights of their relationship, she always
wondered why he looked more excited when he saw the Dow Jones Industrial
Average creep upward on a good day than when he stripped her bare on the bed.

It must have been her, had always been
her general conclusion.

Till last night.

Joe had made her feel like she lacked
nothing. She had luxuriated in her passion, letting him take her to new heights
again and again, till they finally collapsed in each other’s arms at four in
the morning. She glanced at her clock on the dashboard. Just a few hours ago.

A tear dropped onto her cheek as she
merged onto Highway 50 headed back to Annapolis.

Tears? Really?
How pathetic was she to have tears over
a fling—something so many women do without a shred of shame about it?

But it wasn’t shame that was drenching
her cheeks right now, she realized. It was worry. Worry for Joe and what might
happen to him on his next mission. And the one after that. And the one after
that. She could imagine that fear gnawing away at her every time she heard
reports of a death of a SEAL in action in the news.

She could probably manage to get some
updates through Mick and Jack. They’d at least be informed if he were injured
or killed, right?

One night stand or not, Joe Shey had
crept into her heart and wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon.

Turning up the music to clear her head of
thoughts, she sailed down the highway, grateful that there was no traffic. She
was exhausted, and longed to drop her damp head down onto her pillow and go to
sleep.

Trouble was, she had two housemates who
would be waiting at the kitchen table hoping for details about her night. She
could imagine them right now, sipping their coffee and watching the door. With
any luck, Abby would be sitting with them and she would have to postpone giving
any details till after Vi had caught up on some sleep.

No such luck, she thought as she opened
the door of the house a half hour later.

Vi’s eyes darted around the kitchen. “Where’s
Abby?”

Bess brightened when she saw Vi step
through the door. “Hey, you! Edith took her to the Navy Chapel this morning. They
have something going on for the kids after the service. I think they’re making
Advent wreaths or something like that.”