SEALed With a Kiss: Even a Hero Needs Help Sometimes... (30 page)

"The hell you're not. Something has hurt you bad."

"Not you."

"Okay." Jax whispered and pressed her face into the hollow of his neck. "Okay."

Like many men Jax was uncomfortable with tears, his own or anyone else's. A part of him wondered what the hell he was doing here, holding this sobbing woman. Another, a much more important part, knew that if she had to cry, he wanted her doing it here, in his arms. Where he could protect her.

Whoa! Where had that come from?

He didn't need anyone else to complicate his life right now. His head already reeled with the complexities of figuring out how to balance the demands of a career with Tyler's needs. So why did being here feel so right?

He had pushed past her wariness again and again, when he knew damned well he had other choices, but he had done it anyway. But dammit, he didn't like it when she seemed to hold him away He wanted ... sex, but he'd had sex. His body stirred as he remembered the delicate greed with which she'd tasted him. It was great. And it wasn't enough.

He stroked the damp silky curls back from her face. The sobs had been replaced by long, shuddering sighs, then silence. He had some more questions, but when he turned toward her to ask them, her hand flopped against his chest. She had fallen asleep, worn out by the weeping and all that had passed before.

He felt his lips curve in a smile. He liked that almost childlike directness and honesty with which she responded when she lost her wariness. She had approached sex the same way. He wanted her again, but he should let her sleep.

He pulled a pillow into place for her head and turned them both on their sides, her bottom tucked into his groin. His hand found a soft breast and cupped it, marveling again at how perfectly it fit his hand. Absently, he captured the silky nipple between two fingers while his other fingers stroked the underside. He'd already discovered she liked that. His mind drifted. His unruly member, already stirred by the closeness of that enticing cleft, hardened.

Had she ever done it this way? Probably not. Would she be shocked?

Soft buttocks rubbed against him, then rocked with slow experimentation.

"Are you awake?" he asked softly, not wanting to wake her if she was still asleep.

"If I'm not," she sounded half-sleepy, half-amused, "this is a very good dream."

"Would you like to try it this way?"

"You'd have to show me how."

Jax had always looked for experienced bedmates who knew the score and were looking for the same raunchy, no-strings-attached, no-holds-barred sex he was. Who knew Pickett's combination of enthusiasm and innocence would be such a turn-on? Or maybe it was just the novelty of it all. Maybe once that wore off, he would be no more interested in sticking around than he ever was.

For now the simple trust and generosity with which she gave herself blew him away, and made the fumbling oddly sweet.

"Put your leg here." He lifted her upper leg to rest it on the outside of his thigh, then slid one hand into the already dampening curls.

"Um. I like that, but I thought we were going to do it this way."

"We are."

"So do it."

Until this minute, Jax hadn't known you could feel a smile all over your body. "Patience, little one. We have to get you ready."

"I'm ready."

"There's not as much stimulation for a woman in this position. You need to be very, very ready."

Jax could almost hear the wheels turning in her active brain as she considered his reply.

"Is there enough stimulation for a man then? I can't touch you very much."

Jax almost groaned with the effort he was making to hold back, not to plunge himself into her warmth.

"Trust me. I am stimulated plenty." He kissed the nape of her neck, then ran his tongue in the shallow groove there. He felt an almost ridiculous satisfaction when she shivered and pushed closer, making one of her soft sounds. "That's it," he encouraged. "Enjoy this just for what it is."

"You're enjoying it, aren't you?"

Jax almost gave a sarcastic 'duh,' but he'd caught the wonder in her voice. "I mean," she added, "you're not just going through the steps. You really like it."

Jax swept his hands over her in wordless reply, making evident the pleasure he derived from touching her, feeling her, pleasuring her.

The knowledge set something free in Pickett. Suddenly the sensation gathering between her legs seemed to burst over her entire body in a wave of heat, sensitizing every nerve ending. Sounds, unbidden and unchecked, spilled from her throat with every swirling touch of his magic fingers. Her hips made their own demands, pushing her mound against his hand.

Pickett felt Jax reach across her to the night-stand for one of the foil packets then pull away for a second while he readied himself. When he reached under her buttocks to open the swollen petals there, she could not control a fine trembling that swept over her.

Jax paused just at her entrance. "Are you all right? You're not scared, are you?"

"Now." Pickett pushed her hips at him. "I need you now."

He filled her with a slowness that made her want to scream. And then an intensity of pure pleasure jolted through her.
"Oh my God!"

Jax stilled abruptly. "Have I hurt you?"

"No.
It's so good. It's—um—when you move like that, yes, just like that, it is so good."

"Like that?" he repeated the movement.

"Yes. I've never ..."

"This must be a good position for your G-spot. You know about them, don't you?"

Pickett couldn't help but laugh, an amazingly sultry sound even to her own ears. "I know about G-spots in theory. This is my first acquaintance with my own."

Jax's answering laugh was full of masculine triumph. "Now we know another thing you like."

You are going to do
what?"
Pickett's body, seconds before so sweetly nestled into the curve of his, stiffened.

Jax rapidly reviewed what he had just been saying. They had been lying in bed, talking over their plans for the day in sleepy, relaxed murmurs. He'd been idly wondering if the slow stroking of Pickett's breasts would give her the same idea he was getting. With her bare bottom pressed against his arousal, she'd have to know what was on his mind.

Jax liked sex in the morning, and it wasn't something he got much of. If his schedule didn't make it impossible to linger in bed, the twenty-four-hour rule did. What the hell had he said? Whatever it was, they didn't have to talk about it right now.

Jax pulled her back against him, stroking her soft belly. "It's not important, sweetheart. Just a phone call to my lawyer. I can do it later."

"You said you were going to change the custody agreement to make sure you got more visitation with Tyler." Her tone was accusatory. What was the matter with her? She ought to think that was a
good
thing.

He smoothed a circle around the velvety areola of one plump breast. She really liked that last night. It might work.

Pickett pushed his hand away. "Do you mean Lauren, your mother-in-law—the one that treated me to a diatribe about
your
deficiencies—
that
Lauren is going to have
custody
of Tyler?"

He could try a kiss behind her ear. He moved his lips over the velvety skin. He liked the way she smelled there. Shampoo and soap and warm, sleepy smell.

Pickett shoved a remarkably sharp elbow into his midriff and squirmed away.

No morning sex
this
morning. Jax flopped onto his back. He covered his eyes with his arm. "This isn't news, Pickett." He sounded a lot more patient than he felt. "She's had custody since his mother died. You know that."

Pickett sat up and swung her legs over the side, grabbing the first article of clothing that her hand came across. Her back to him, she pulled on the blue knit shirt Jax had worn last night, then stood up.

"I knew he was staying with her until you could come for him. It never occurred to me you would give her permanent custody."

"Did you think I would keep him?"

"Yes!"

Jax blinked at her vehemence. "Why are you so offended?"

"I'm not offended. I'm appalled!"

"Pay attention, Pickett. I am a
SEAL.
I'm away two hundred or more days a year. Even when I'm at the base, most of our training takes place at night. I'm gone twelve to fourteen hours at a time. That's reality. Tyler's too young to stay by himself. How am I supposed to take care of him?"

"Two hundred days a year?"

"Yes. Lauren isn't perfect, but she does care about Tyler and I trust her more than hired help I wouldn't be present to supervise. So I'm doing what's best for Tyler, okay?"

After a long pause Pickett spoke. "Have you asked yourself what being deserted by you again is going to do to Tyler?" she asked quietly.

The question burned him. SEALs
never
abandoned one of their own. "I'm not deserting him," he said through clenched teeth. "I just told you. I'm going to change the visitation agreement. I'm going to make sure I see more of him, and I want him to visit me as often as possible."

Pickett was silent. She picked up a brush and began to pull it through the tossed golden curls. The motion pulled up the shirt, revealing creamy expanse of thigh.

She seemed to live to show him things that were just outside his reach. To hell with trying to defend himself. Jax stood up, disregarding his nudity and half-aroused state. He caught Pickett watching him in the mirror.

"I'm already on notice that I will have to justify every arrangement I make to Commander Kohn, but frankly, I don't see how it's any of your business."

Pickett's eyes prickled but she found if she breathed shallowly she could bear the blow he'd dealt to her heart. She met his crystal gray gaze in the mirror. His dark brows were low across his eyes and absolutely straight. This was the man, the warrior, she'd warned herself about repeatedly. Just one of those implacable looks, and no man under him would ever forget his position in the scheme of things again.
Nor would she.

It was ironic. Making recommendations about custody washer business. Her job, at any rate. Not many times, thank God, but she had been called as an expert witness in custody trials. But he hadn't asked for her opinion.

She was not his therapist.

She wasn't his anything.

She felt her face grow hot. She knew—she
knew—
that an invitation to a man's bed was not an invitation to his life, and yet at the first opportunity, it seemed, she had stepped over the line. It was a good thing—eventually, it would be a good thing—he was so willing to set her straight.

She set the brush on the dresser with great care and slowly turned to face him. "You're right, of course, it isn't my business," she said, and she was very proud of how cool and steady her voice sounded. "I apologize." She turned back to the dresser to extract lingerie and clean clothes. "If you want to use the shower in the master bath, I'll use the one off my office."