A SEAL's Pleasure (5 page)

Make her scream with pleasure, whimper with need.

He'd be the best she ever had. He was sure of it.

He wanted to.

Damned if he didn't.

But he had a plan. A mission.

And a man never walked away from his mission until it was complete.

Still, it took all of his willpower to ease back on the kiss. Like a man about to go on a weeklong fast, he drew in the taste of Tessa as if he could live off her flavor until he got his mouth on her again.

He'd made a living out of tempting fate, doing the impossible. He was trained to take risks and prevent explosions.

But pulling away from Tessa was just about the hardest thing Gabriel had ever done.

Like working with any volatile situation, he eased back slowly. He kept his expression neutral, friendly even. His eyes watchful, senses on full alert, he took a careful breath to settle his pulse. Another to ensure he was focused and steady.

Then, and only then, he offered her a charming smile.

“You're amazing,” he said truthfully. “But we can't have sex tonight.”

Tessa's lush lashes fluttered as she blinked, her sharply arched brows drawing together before she shook her head as if clearing her ears.

“I'm sorry?” she said as she looked askance.

Gabriel barely managed to keep from laughing aloud at the expression on her face.

God, he loved confusing her.

Not quite as much as he enjoyed pleasuring her, of course. But enough that it was easy to shift from one to the other if it'd guarantee an extension of the pleasure until he was ready.

“I said—”

“Is this some sort of SEAL superstition?” she asked, peering at him through narrowed eyes. “Like if you step on a crack you'll break your partner's back? Or that if you change your socks before a mission you'll endanger the entire team?”

His lips twitched. He was pretty sure that not changing his socks would be more danger to the team.

“Because if it's a matter of endangering one of your missions—or at least, endangering it in your mind—I totally understand.”

At his surprised look, Tessa shrugged. “Hey, I can be patriotic. Call it my way of supporting our troops...or in this case, you.”

If she'd whipped an AK-47 out from beneath her tiny little dress and knocked him upside the head with it, Gabriel couldn't have been more floored. Had anyone outside of the team itself ever been so unquestionably supportive of what he did? His mind was blank, so he took that as a no.

“You're so damned sweet,” he said, frowning a little. Sweet, patriotic, sexy and funny. Something in his chest tightened as he stared at the beauty that was Tessa's face and realized that he'd barely scratched the surface of this gorgeous woman. And now, more than anything, he was determined to delve deep until he'd learned every single thing about her that he could.

He didn't know what that feeling was going on in his gut right now since he'd never felt anything like it before. But it demanded to be acknowledged. So he did just that in the only way he knew how.

He kissed her again. But before it could get too hot, even heavier, he made himself stop. Slowly, reluctantly, he pulled back with a heavy sigh.

“I want to take you out,” he said after clearing his throat. “Dinner, dancing, maybe a moonlight walk on the beach.”

“Out?”

“A date.”

“Mmm,” she breathed as she leaned closer again. Her tongue slid along his bottom lip before she gave it a gentle nip. “Why don't we skip to another type of moonlight dance? A naked one that includes a myriad of hip thrusts and slow grinds.”

“Because as much as I really, really want to get naked together and worship each other's bodies, I want to romance you first. I'm going to show you what it feels like to build the anticipation and layer the needs,” he promised. “You're going to want me so badly by the time I'm through that all it'll take is a touch to send you flying over the edge of screaming pleasure.”

“And you're going to make me wait for this? Not for the good of your team or because you're superstitious?”

“Yep. Because I'm going to romance you first.”

Tessa was looking at him as if he'd lost his mind.

All things considered, Gabriel wasn't so sure that he hadn't.

Especially when he watched her turn from hot to cold with just a sweep of those lashes.

“Let me get this straight,” she said, stepping back to give him a chilly look. “You are turning me down? Walking away from your only shot because you want, what was it? Romance?”

Well, when she put it that way, he sounded like an idiot. Unable to stop himself, Gabriel frowned. He was pretty sure he'd never had anyone question his intelligence before. His taste, his decisions, his ability to make anything worthwhile out of his life, sure.

But never his expertise.

His expertise let him see the signs.

Tessa's dilated pupils, her still-labored breath and the slight trembling of her limbs made it clear that she was operating under a high level of sexual need.

For him.

His ego took those signs as confirmation that his plan was working.

He had her attention.

With just a taste, he'd started the addiction.

If he fed it too fast, it'd detonate. It'd feel great. But like any one-shot explosion, it'd be done. They'd be done.

Now he just had to tease it out, feed the hunger until she was starving for more and finesse the spark into a conflagration. And, of course, enjoy the results.

Gabriel's frown slowly shifted into a wicked smile, making Tessa's frown deepen.

Good.

That meant she was confused.

His smile widened as he skimmed his knuckles over the silky warmth of her cheek before sliding his hand into her hair.

Confusion was the point of this particular mission. And as much as he hated leaving a lady disappointed, he was all about the bigger picture here.

He was out to win the war, not just one battle.

No matter how satisfying, how delicious, how carnally incredible that one battle might be.

“You'll love it,” he promised in a husky whisper as he skimmed the knuckles of his other hand over her breast, her nipple rock hard and tempting against his skin.

He watched her eyes narrow, the frown edging dangerously close to a scowl. She pulled back, forcing him to release her. She didn't take her eyes off his face as she stepped around him so he had to turn to follow her movements. Tessa leaned sideways to grab one shoe. Without looking, she slipped it onto her foot, then with perfect balance reached down to the other one, too. Gabriel's brows arched, impressed that she'd done all that without even checking left from right. Gotta love a woman who had a knack for doing things by feel alone.

Her delicate feet strapped in those skyscrapers once again, Tessa mounted the first step so they were eye to eye. Hers were about as cold as the ocean behind him, but beneath the irritation there he could still see the heat.

“What d'ya say, angel?” he asked in his most charming tone, fanning those flames. As added incentive, he leaned forward to give her a soft kiss. Given that she was baring her teeth, he considered himself lucky she didn't try to snap his lips off. But hey, he was a SEAL. Never let it be said that he didn't take risks to complete his mission. “Let's go on a date. It'll be fun. We'll move on from a first-name basis and see where it goes.”

“Move beyond?” She laughed, shaking her head so that gloriously long mane of hair waved over her breasts, making his mouth water. “Romeo, we're not on a first-name basis now.”

“Well, then, we'll change that.”

Tessa gave him an assessing look, then stepped to the edge of the stairs. She tucked her finger into his freshly rebuttoned shirt and gave a light tug to pull him closer. Not needing any encouragement, he settled his hands on her hips with a smile.

“There's nothing to change,” she told him in a chiding tone, her finger tapping on his chest in time with her words. “Do you know why we refer to each other by nicknames?”

“Everyone refers to me by my nickname,” Gabriel said with a laugh.

“You and I, we're a lot alike, Romeo,” she pointed out. “We use nicknames to keep people where they belong. At a safe distance so they don't get in our way.”

“You're too pretty to be such a cynic,” he said with a laugh, pretending her words hadn't hit home.

“I'm a realist, not a cynic,” she argued.

“And you're as hot for me as I am for you,” he noted, his eyes skimming the rigid peaks of her breasts standing in stark relief against her silk dress. His fingers burned to follow up the look with a caress, but he knew that'd undermine the progress he'd already made. Progress that had come at great physical distress, he admitted, shifting a little to ease the painful pressure of his zipper against his aching erection.

“So?” Tessa challenged with a dismissive shrug. “What's hot got to do with it?”

Appreciating her nod to Tina Turner, he grinned, reaching out to rub her hair between his fingers.

“Now that you've had a taste, you're not going to walk away from this heat between us,” he told her confidently. “You might want to. But you won't.”

Her eyes flashed, fury so intense he was surprised she wasn't shooting lightning from those blue depths. He could see her jaw clench, but her amused smile didn't shift. God, that control of hers was a turn-on.

“Actually, that's exactly what I am going to do.” She tapped her finger against his lips this time before giving him a dismissive smile. “Watch and learn, Romeo. This is what happens when you push a good thing too far.”

Those brilliant eyes locked on his for one second longer before Tessa spun on her skyscraper heels and offered him an up-close and not personal enough view of her back, before she sashayed away.

Watching her climb the stairs as if she were out for a casual stroll instead of storming off after a heated rejection, Tessa proved once again that she was in a class by herself.

A very sexy, very tempting class. The silky fabric of her dress swayed in time with those lush hips, cupping her ass with each step. Gabriel had to force himself not to go after her.

He'd see her again, he reminded himself. Their two best friends were not just a couple now, they were a couple hell-bent on nesting. Nesting people did social things that included their friends. And then there was all of the wedding crap Irish had going on.

Yeah. They'd be seeing a lot of each other over the next little while. He wouldn't have to wait long to see if his gamble had paid off.

Gabriel shoved his hands in his pockets, not an easy feat considering the erection Tessa had left him with. Rocking back on his heels in the sand, he mused that this was the first time in his life that he'd bet against his own talents.

It'd be interesting over the next few weeks to see how many times he'd have to put those talents to the test before being declared the winner.

That he'd win was a sure thing.

Gabriel Thorne never lost.

Especially when it came to the games between the sexes.

5

“I
T
'
S
A
GAME
. It has to be. I mean, what kind of idiot says no to great sex because they're holding out for romance?” Tessa asked, spitting the last word out as if it tasted nasty.

“Me.” The response was accompanied by a heavily ringed hand waving absently over a frizz of orange hair, which was all that could be seen of the speaker.

“You actually believe in romance?” Tessa asked, her surprise not slowing her stomp from one end of the office that housed the heart and soul of
Flirtatious
to the other. “Given everything we write about? The relationship statistics? The long-shot odds? Heck, the men you've dated? With all of that data, you're holding out for moonlit lies and sand-castle dreams?”

“It only takes one Mr. Right to beat the odds,” Maeve Bannion said absently, her attention still zeroed in on her computer screen. “And I don't put out if he don't put out.”

Tessa snorted.

“So you're saying you think guys pay for sex with romance?”

“No more than I think women pay for candlelight dinners, expensive flowers or dancing under the stars with sex.”

Tessa frowned, her laughter fading as she thought of the many, many men who figured she'd show her appreciation sexually for being taken to a fancy restaurant or sent lavish gifts. It always seemed so fake to her. She couldn't remember the last romantic date she'd had that wasn't a sad, sad cliché.

She'd written articles on that very theme. Romance by the Numbers: Ten Steps That Work On Every Woman. Or her series called Developing a Signature Style, based on tried and true textbook romantic gestures.

It all came down to bullshit. To spinning the pitch just the right way to achieve the goal. For most men, that was sex. Which brought her back to the question of why waste time with romance?

Tessa's shoulders drooped, her body suddenly feeling as if it weighed a ton.

God, she was jaded. Was that why she shunned romance?

Because she didn't like being disappointed? Because no man had ever moved beyond the textbook steps?

Well, there ya go.

One more thing she didn't want to know about herself.

Tessa sighed, then resumed pacing the room.

She'd spent the entire weekend, ever since Saturday night's engagement party, fuming. She'd tried to work her sexual frustrations off at the gym, and then to bury them in a double-caramel-fudge sundae delight.

Nothing had helped.

She couldn't rant to Livi. Under normal circumstances, her best friend would have been gratifyingly sympathetic, appropriately outraged and completely supportive. But where Romeo was concerned, nothing was normal.

So Tessa had done the next best thing.

She'd hit the office first thing this morning, knowing that her partner would be holed up here obsessing over the specs for the next issue's publication.

“There, in the middle of hot and heavy, the guy turned me down,” Tessa grumbled, as irritated at the fact that she, with her excellent verbal skills, had now repeated that same sentence at least nine times as she was with the sentence itself. “Can you believe the arrogant ass?”

“Why?” was all that Maeve muttered, her lanky body hunched over her computer like a gnome over its treasure. A brilliant tech, she'd been wooed by Silicon Valley numerous times. Tessa knew she stayed as much out of loyalty to the company the two women had built with Jared Welch right out of college as it was that Maeve was a woman with strong opinions and strict working-condition requirements.

Which included calling her own hours, insisting on being able to lock her door and ignore everyone until she wanted to talk to them and working barefoot year-round.

Tessa glanced at Maeve's feet, crossed yoga-style on her lap, noting that today's polish was virulent violet with hot pink polka dots.

“
Why?
What do you mean by
why
?” Tessa asked, hoping that somewhere in this conversation, some of Maeve's brilliance would translate into usable advice. Or at least something comprehensible.

“Why is the guy an arrogant ass if he turns down sex? I mean, a woman turns down sex and she's justified. So why is it different for a guy?”

Because no guy had ever turned her down. Tessa kept that fact to herself, settling for sending a scowl at the back of Maeve's head.

“By that logic, he's a tease, then,” she said, stabbing her finger in the air as if poking an imaginary Romeo in his very hard, very sculpted chest. “And teases suck.”

Maeve sighed. “You ever get going with a guy, thinking it's going to end in hot sex, then for whatever random reason, change your mind?”

Dammit. Tessa growled low in her throat, but couldn't lie.

“Of course I have.”

Once, she'd walked out on one with his boxers around his ankles. Not because he had a pair of elephant ears tattooed to his upper thighs. But because his
trunk
had been the size of a peanut, he claimed because it was scared of her mouse. Talk about a turnoff.

Wait...

Had she turned off Romeo?

“Do you think there's something wrong with me?” Tessa asked in shock. Feet glued to the floor, she gaped at the back of Maeve's head.

Oh, God. Had Romeo found something wrong with her? The way she kissed? She'd thought he'd been totally into it. His mouth had been wild. Hot and, well, focused. He'd been totally into their kiss, dammit.

So was it her body?

Her knees turned to water at the thought. Her stomach pitched into the toes that were stuck to the floor, before bouncing up into her throat so fast Tessa felt as if she was going to throw up.

It wasn't as if she thought she was God's gift to men, or that she was so conceited to believe herself irresistible. But she'd had enough success with the opposite sex over the years to know that she did hold a certain amount of appeal. Added to that, she made her living writing about the games between the sexes, and statistics supported her belief that men were, generally speaking and given the right circumstances, horndogs who'd do it with anyone who offered.

And their circumstances had been right, dammit.

He'd been into the kiss and hot for her body.

Hadn't he?

Tessa bit her lip, thinking back to Saturday night. Heat swirled through her at the memory, assuring her that any and all of those kisses had been freaking awesome. She had enough experience to know if a guy was faking his reaction, and she knew damned well that her record of no man ever faking with her still stood strong.

“He's playing games,” she insisted, as much because she believed it, but also because she really
needed
to believe it. “He has no idea who he's messing with.”

Maeve's cackle echoed off her computer monitor. “He's got you good and hooked, so I'd say he knows exactly what he's doing and who he's doing it with.”

Her feet finally free again, Tessa resumed pacing.

“That's ridiculous,” she railed with a wave of her hand. “I'm not hooked. I'm pissed. There's a difference.”

“You walked away from sex,” Maeve pointed out, finally turning in her office chair, the cracked black leather creaking in protest as she arched her back and stretched her long arms overhead, bangles clanging together as she did.

Pursing her lips, Tessa debated nitpicking the fact that Romeo was the one who'd turned down sex. But she knew Maeve well enough to know that the minute she did, her friend would point out that he hadn't turned down sex so much as put parameters on what she had to do to get it.

That was the problem bitching to someone as brilliant as Maeve. She was so damned picky about the particulars.

“I walked away from a cliché that was being dangled as a hook to get sex,” Tessa explained, ignoring the little voice in the back of her head snickering that it was more as if she'd run away from an emotional temptation with so much weight that if she tried it, it'd sink her.

“Riiight,” Maeve drawled. “A cliché. Because that's your deal breaker.”

“You've said it yourself a million times,” Tessa said, trying to keep the defensive edge out of her tone. “Clichés are lazy.”

“In writing. But the cliché of wanting to use romance as foreplay? That takes an effort. Focus and forethought. Nothin' lazy about that.”

What's with all the
F
words? Tessa wanted to add
foreplay
and
fornicate
to the list, but resisted since she knew exactly which word Maeve would shoot back.

“So what's your point?” Tessa asked instead.

“My point is that games can add spice to sex.” Maeve arched one slender brow as she uncurled herself from her chair. On her feet she stretched again, her misshapen mustard-colored sweater bagging at the hips of her purple acid-washed jeans. She crossed the office with her mile-eating stride, filled a gallon-size coffee mug with juice from the minifridge. “If you wanted that hot sex, you'd have played it out until you got what you wanted. You always do. Since you ran instead, you might want to ask yourself why.”

“I only went for it with the guy to prove something,” Tessa muttered. “Why would I prolong that with silly games?”

“That's the end of my advice for the day. Which is why I said ask yourself, not ask me.” Maeve curled back into a pretzel in her chair, spinning it to face the computer and resuming her hunched-over position.

And that was that. Maeve was finished humoring her with conversation.

But Tessa wasn't through talking. That was how she figured things out. With words, said out loud, to other people. Except she'd clearly chosen the wrong person to say them to today.

But there was nobody else.

Unable to stand her tangled welter of thoughts but hoping it'd help keep her mouth shut, she started pacing again.

Guys weren't supposed to confuse her.

Since she'd donned her first training bra, she'd had a firm grip on the male psyche. She'd always seemed to understand what made them tick, why they thought the way they did, what motivated them and where their thoughts were.

Even in those handful of times that their thoughts weren't on sex.

Not that she was a cynic, per se.

Nor was she afraid of the emotional intimacy something like romance could inspire.

Was she?

She'd gone after Romeo because she'd wanted to prove she still had her edge. To show herself that she could handle whatever drama came her way.

And now look at her.

Tessa groaned—actually groaned out loud—as her thoughts tangled together, tripping over themselves in confusion.

Maeve's sigh, dripping with irritation, was a work of art as it echoed through the room.

“Have you told Livi how you feel about this guy?” the other woman asked, her focus on the magazine's layout again instead of Tessa's trek from one end of her office to the other.

“Livi? Are you kidding? She's got stars in her eyes and her ears are filled with cooing doves and giggling cupids,” Tessa said with a wave of her hand. “Besides, she likes him. If I tell her what an egotistical creepazoid he is, she might get upset.”

“Right.” Maeve actually looked up, peering at Tessa over the rim of the funky glasses she'd donned for the close-up work she was doing. Blowing one bright orange corkscrew curl off her nose, she nodded. “Because Livi's not used to you being all forthright and outspoken.”

Tessa rolled her eyes at her partner.

“She's pregnant. She never thought she could get pregnant and now she is. Added to that she's all goofy over the baby daddy, she believes that love lasts and she's, you know—” Tessa threw her hands in the air “—Livi.”

“Right. Your best friend, the woman you spent last year touring the country with while teaching fitness freaks how to bump and grind their way to weight loss.” Maeve made a few more clicks of her mouse without looking at Tessa, then glared at her thirty-inch computer screen before clicking some more. “Weren't you college roommates, too?”

Tessa stopped in front of the floor-length gilt mirror, checking the tuck of her sheer black blouse in the waistband of her pleated leather skirt. She ran her hand over her hair, slicked into its elegant ponytail, before giving Maeve a bland look.

“So?” she asked.

“So I'm pretty sure Livi knows that you're opinionated, hardheaded, sexually aggressive and pleasure oriented.”

Well.

Tessa blinked a couple of times, then strolled over to perch her hip on the only clear spot on Maeve's desk. She lifted the stack of cover mock-up boards and tapped them against her knee while giving the other woman a narrow look.

“What?” Maeve asked, when she finally noticed the hard-eyed stare.

“Do I have any other traits you'd like to add to that list?” Tessa asked in her most sardonic tone. “Like maybe that I don't kick puppies or that I'm diligent with my dental care?”

Maeve reached into her high-piled stack of carrot curls and pulled out a pencil, made a note on the ever-present pad of paper at her elbow before sticking the number two back in her hair and giving Tessa a grin. The smile made her look less like grumpy gnome and more like a sexy siren.

“Well, you're also savvy, sophisticated, talented and loyal. But that's not the point. The point is, Livi isn't going to go into shock when she finds out you're hot, horny and hooked on the idea of doing the mattress mambo with her best man.”

The only thing that kept Tessa from sliding off the desk in shock was her leather skirt.

“I called the man arrogant and egotistical before listing the many and varied ways he irritates me,” she said, trying to ignore the heat in her belly as she imagined doing the mattress mambo—or any other horizontal dance form—with Romeo. “From that you got hot, horny and hooked?”