To Dare a SEAL (Sin City SEALs) (11 page)

Chapter Sixteen

F
uck me.

And yeah, that was pretty much his only coherent thought as pleasure ripped through him. Once he was spent, he collapsed on the bed by her side.

Shit, maybe she did have the ultimate control, because instead of talking or sinking into her and making her come a second time, he’d exploded in her freaking hand.

“Ten minutes,” he murmured. “And then it is game on again.” He had to redeem himself after that little performance. “This time, we do it my way.”

“Hmm, well, your way didn’t get the job done,” she said.

“Is that another challenge?” he asked, turning on his side to look at her. He pressed his elbow into the mattress and allowed his head to rest against his hand. She’d dropped her hands to her sides, but he kept her legs straight and spread in a narrow V.

“Observation,” she murmured.

She turned her head toward him. The heat in her eyes sent a loud and clear message to his still recovering body—
You got yours, but I’m still primed and ready for my second big O
.

What if he pushed to do this his way? What if he demanded control? Would she run for the bathroom door?

With the questions rushing rapid-fire through his mind, he watched as she slid her hand over her breasts and traced a path down her taut stomach to her dark, wet curls. Her index finger slipped between her folds, and her back arched.

No, this woman wouldn’t run and hide. But she just might kick him out. And he wasn’t looking for a repeat of the motel room in the middle of nowhere California. He refused to settle for listening to her moan and cry out through another goddamn door, not when she’d already let him inside.

Speaking of…

Why did she let me in?

Her eyes fluttered closed as she drew her knees up, opening her body and granting her fingers access.

To torture me,
he thought, willing his dick to recover and get back in the game.

“Natalie, don’t even think about crossing the finish line without me,” he said. “I like watching you. Hell, I love it. But I don’t want to walk out of here until I’ve felt you fall apart while I’m buried deep inside you.”

She opened her eyes, granting him at least a part of her attention. Her fingers continued to move between her legs. And for a second, he swore he saw a hint of vulnerability—as though she’d opened herself up to more than his touch.

“I won’t,” she said. And instead of fighting him, pushing back and demanding to give the orders, she withdrew her wet fingers.

He froze and waited to see what she’d do next. But she simply let her hand fall to her side, leaving her body open and waiting for him. And his dick begged to accept the invitation.

He studied her face as he reached for a condom. Her big brown eyes, her full lips—he knew her. Shit, her face had haunted his dreams for so damn long. But right now, she didn’t look like the don’t-you-dare-give-me-any-shit woman who managed a bar full of sailors and soldiers. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“I won’t—”

“I’m not asking you to beg,” he said quickly. “But if you’re having second thoughts, please tell me.”

She pressed her lips together into a thin line. And Jack held his breath.

Please tell me you want this. I’ll walk away if you ask me to go. From the fantasy, from you. But—

“Are
you
having second thoughts?” she challenged, the fire returning to her brown eyes.

“No.” He tore open the condom and rolled it onto his very grateful dick. “How can I make you come? What will make you scream my name? That’s all I’m thinking about right now.”

Later, he’d worry about why she’d let him in, granting him a peek beneath her tough-girl exterior.

“Good,” she said, reaching her arms overhead.

And hell if that wasn’t an invitation to cover her body with his. He knelt between her splayed legs. Placing one hand on the mattress beside her, he used the other to position himself at her entrance. And then he pushed inside.

“Fuck,” he gasped, holding himself still and giving her time to adjust. She was so damn tight.

“Don’t stop,” she said, rocking her hips beneath him. “I haven’t done this in a while, so make it good. Okay?”

“Planning to.” He held back the question:
How long?
Because he knew she was close to begging. If he pushed her over that line, she’d never forgive him. And if he did anything to prematurely end this, he’d kick his own damn ass. He’d never been so grateful for a pre-game hand job.

Gentle.

The word flashed in his mind like a freaking neon sign. Leaning on one elbow, he ran his free hand over her jaw and down her throat. He kept his touch light, moving south to her breasts.

“Jack?” She moaned his name as she gripped his shoulders. Her fingers dug into his skin.

Fuck—someone missed the flashing gentle sign.

“Yeah?” he gasped. It was a miracle he managed that one word with her nails running over his back and down to his ass. Her touch rode the line between sweet, sweet pleasure and the bite of pain. He was about five seconds away from ignoring the neon warning.

“I’m not breakable,” she whispered.

He stared down into her brown eyes. She raised an eyebrow—an unspoken challenge. And hell, she knew he couldn’t turn away once she’d thrown down the gauntlet.

Abandoning her breasts, he reached down and guided her leg up until it wrapped around him. “Hold on tight, darlin’.”

And then he began to move. He thrust in and out, holding nothing back. Fucking missionary had never felt so good.

Next time, I’ll get creative. Doggie style. Reverse cowgirl. Next time—

“More!” She arched her back and lifted her hips up to meet him thrust for thrust. Her nails clawed at his back as if determined to leave marks. “More, for the love of…oh God, Jack!”

He went for it, pushing into her harder, faster, giving more until he’d left gentle so far behind he wasn’t sure he remembered the meaning of the word. And then—
fuck
. He closed his eyes against the explosion ripping through him.

“Jack!”

She was right there with him, her body convulsing around him as he came. As his orgasm ebbed, she placed her hands on his chest and pushed. He rolled onto his back and she went with him, her legs straddling his hips, their bodies still joined. He looked up at the beautiful woman riding him for damn near all he was worth.

Her long hair fell over her shoulders, teasing her perfect, perky tits. Her lips parted as she gasped and moaned.

Breathtaking. Fucking breathtaking.

He didn’t have much left to give, but damn if she didn’t take and take…

“Oh, wow,” she groaned as her head fell back and her body fell apart. She trembled around him. Then she released her grip on his pecs and collapsed on his chest, completely spent.

“You won,” she said, her head resting against his shoulder.

I won?

“The bet,” she added, her breathing still uneven as he ran his hands up and down her upper arms.

“Yeah,” he murmured. But why did victory suddenly feel like a swift punch to the gut?

“I should get up.” She pressed her hands against his chest like she was preparing to launch off of him.

“Stay.” He wrapped his arms around her, tightening his hold. “Please.”

“I should check on my dog.”

She pulled away from him, and this time he let her go, his arms falling to his sides. He sat up and watched as she gathered her clothes and headed for the hundred-plus-pound dog in the bathroom.

He’d won. But for the first time since he’d turned five, beating his brothers didn’t feel like a victory. Because the woman who up until today had fought this thing between them—this let’s get naked now pull—she’d left him wishing for another peek beneath the tough-girl exterior she wore like a shield.

Natalie looked back at him and offered a smile. “We can toast your victory at the rehearsal dinner tonight. With the other SEALs.”

“No,” he said. But he was talking to an empty room. She’d already joined her dog on the other side of the door.

“Because you’re the prize, Natalie,” he added, knowing that he needed to find a way to say those words to her. “I was too caught up in the past and my stupid need to win that I couldn’t see it. But it’s always been you.”

Chapter Seventeen

“I
t’s over.” Natalie pressed her back against the bathroom door. One more step inside the bathroom and she’d literally be standing on the dog sprawled across the floor. “It’s done. He won. Now I can…”

Take her two orgasms—three if she counted riding his thigh until the friction caused her to combust—and what? Hope they returned to the status quo? She would serve him beers and listen to his stupid one-liners pretending she didn’t want him to make her scream his name again?

She closed her eyes. She couldn’t want that. Him. She didn’t need—

Silk ties… Jack hovering over her… Taking her…

“It was just a bet,” she whispered. She was not adding Jack to the list of people who’d walked away from her. Which was why
she
had walked away this time. She didn’t need him in her life. She managed just fine without a charming SEAL trying to call the shots—and give her orgasms. Just fine.

Woof!

Natalie opened her eyes and focused on her dog. “I’d break you out of here, but there’s a naked SEAL on my bed.”

And I can’t leave this bathroom until I’m certain I won’t burst into tears.

She bit her lip and searched through the ball of clothing she’d carried into the bathroom, looking for her phone. If she couldn’t even say those words to her dog, chances were she’d fall apart in the hallway. Maybe she couldn’t control her desire to tumble into bed with Jack, but she could make sure security didn’t find her weeping beside the dog she’d snuck into their hotel.

She found her phone and dialed Cade.

“Natalie?” he answered after the first ring.

“I hate to interrupt. I know you’re having drinks with the guys.”
Minus Jack.
“But are you sober enough to smuggle your dog out of the hotel?”

“Yes,” Cade said. She heard footsteps, but otherwise the background sounded oddly quiet for a bar. “Most of the guys bailed on drinks. I’m heading to my room now. I’ll head your way instead. Be there in a minute.”

“Better make it five,” she said with a sigh. “Jack’s here. And I should give him a few minutes to find his clothes.”

The footsteps stopped. She waited for Cade to ask if she’d lost.

“Natalie?” he said. “Are you all right?”

“Fine,” she said firmly.

“You’re lying,” her best friend said. “But we don’t have to talk about it. If there’s anyone I trust to take care of herself, it’s you.”

But I don’t trust myself. Not around Jack.

She ended the call and set her phone by the bathroom sink.

Come on, Natalie. You can do this. Just steer clear of him until after the wedding.

And then this would all fade away. The memory of those orgasms, the feel of his arms wrapped around her, the sound of his voice murmuring naughty things through the bathroom door—

“Natalie? Are you all right?” the man she planned to wipe from her memory called through the door.

“Yes,” she said. Mufasa pushed himself off the ground, offering her a wide-eyed doggie version of the “oh really?” look.

“I’d like to talk to you,” he said. And oh God, he was right there on the other side of the door.

“I’ll see you at dinner tonight,” she said. By then she’d be ready to face him, laugh with his teammates about his victory, and focus on surviving her sister’s wedding day while wearing the world’s ugliest bridesmaid dress.

A tear ran down her cheek, chased by another, and then another.

The Terrible Tutu.

Now that was something to cry about.

“W
hat part of drinks in the bar with the groom during the bachelorette thing didn’t you understand?” Ronan said, his tone downright serious. As the only officer in a group of enlisted SEALs, he sounded a helluva lot like he was pulling rank. And that damn near never happened unless they were on base or deployed.

“Cade’s the reason we’re here, spending our down time in the desert,” Ronan added as he shifted his gaze from Dante and then back to Jack. The redheaded SEAL stood with his back to a floor to ceiling wine cooler lined with bottles turned on their sides.

“Give them a break,” Cade said as he joined the group. As a rule, his teammate, and the man of the hour, wore one of three uniforms—battle dress uniform, his Navy whites, or cargo pants and a T-shirt. Sometimes Cade switched the last one up, replacing the pants with board shorts. But a suit? Cade’s gray slacks and blazer screamed “special occasion,” which sure as shit translated into “no fights.” Not even friendly ones between teammates.

But Ronan ignored the suit-signal. “Where were you, Dante?”

“I had to watch a dancer fake an orgasm,” Dante said, looking past Ronan to the red wine, not that he gave a shit about the overpriced bottles.

Cade’s eyebrows shot up as if their recently divorced teammate had just revealed that he’d spent the afternoon painting his nails. And sure, maybe twelve months put the dramatic end of Dante’s marriage square in the past. But—

“I know you’re out of practice,” Cade said, the first one to recover. “But if you’re ready to get back in the game, you should keep your eye on the prize. Participating in the real deal.”

“Fuck you,” Dante said. “I met this girl and she invited me to her show.”

“A private show?” Ronan asked, folding his arms in front of his chest.

“Not yet,” Dante said. “But I bet I have a better chance of moving the show to my hotel room before Jack hits his deadline.”

His teammates turned to him. And shit, Cade looked like he might grind his teeth down to nothing. Jack looked past them, scanning the private room in the back of the new, hip Italian restaurant. He didn’t see Natalie. But he knew that if he had any hope of sitting down and talking to her, he needed to put an end to their current situation.

And yeah, he also wanted a repeat of this afternoon. Maybe a different position, or they could stick with straight up missionary. Though he wouldn’t mind a detour through her Yoga Poses for Blow Jobs playbook.

“Jack?” Cade said.

“He knows he can’t win this one,” Dante said.

“You’re right,” Jack said. “I’m not going to win. Natalie, well shit, she’s not into me.”

Dante laughed. “You knew that before you took the bet. She’s turned you down and tuned you out for years.”

No, she’s heard every word.

Jack shook his head. “I can’t win. I saw her this afternoon and she made it clear… I know when to call it. And this bet is off. I lose.”

“What happened?” Cade asked, his voice hard and challenging. “This afternoon—how did it go south?”

I fell for her.

“Nothing,” Jack said, looking his friend straight in the eyes. There was a chance Natalie had already talked to Cade. But he trusted his teammate to keep his mouth shut and let the others think Natalie had kicked him out before they’d lost their clothes.

“Your brothers are going to give you hell,” Ronan said mildly.

“Yeah,” Jack agreed. “And I’m sorry about your fifty bucks.”

Ronan shrugged. “I thought she liked you.”

“What is this? Grade school? The cold shoulder is really a ‘come chase me around the playground’ signal?” Dante said with a laugh.

Yes
.
But the grown-up version of the “playground” involved a bed.

“This is Vegas, Jack,” Dante continued, slapping him on the shoulder. “You’ll find someone else to keep you company while we’re on leave. That I’d bet money on.”

He could have sworn Cade let out a growl. But Jack kept his attention on Dante. “And what? Watch some chick fake it on stage?” Jack asked. “How the hell does that work? Was she naked?”

Dante’s smile faded. “She’s in this show. It’s part modern dance, part acrobats. No stripping, I swear. Summer—she’s not that kind of girl. She’s a physical therapist who danced in college. She tried out for the show hoping to find a way to pay off her school bills. I met her at the pool this morning. She offered me a ticket, and I went thinking it would be fun to see her move on stage. This woman. Her body. Man, I had to see her in action.”

“And then you found out modern dance meant fake orgasms?” Ronan asked.

“That’s what it looked like to me,” Dante said. “Between the sounds—”

Jack tuned his teammate out. He didn’t need to hear the details of a dancer’s erotic show. He’d witnessed the real thing earlier. They might have avoided the reasons for ending up in bed together, pretending it was all about the bet. But the end result was 100 percent authentic—times three.

P
rince Charming had forfeited.

Natalie pressed her hand against the wine cellar’s glass wall. She’d been a step away from turning the corner and entering the private dining area on the other side of the bottles when she’d heard Jack’s voice.

I can’t win this one. I saw her this afternoon and she made it clear… I know when to call it. And this bet is off. I lose.

She stared at the stack of pinot noir. Chief Jack Barnes, the Navy SEAL who never backed down from a challenge, who ran toward his attackers, not away, had said the word
lose
.

And it was a big fat lie.

He’d won.

She closed her eyes and her mind drifted back to her hotel room. Jack’s body hovering over hers…his thick, hard cock sliding inside her…his hips moving faster and faster…and the way he’d held her afterward. He’d wrapped his arms around her and asked her to stay.

She opened her eyes, and a waitress holding a tray lined with champagne flutes materialized in front of her.

“May I offer you—”

“Yes.” Natalie plucked a glass off her tray and raised it to her lips. The waitress’s eyes widened, but then she quickly disappeared around the corner to serve the rehearsal dinner guests.

Including Jack, the man who’d erased her excuse for following her desire straight into his arms. The bet had been her safety net. Without it…

Why had he lied?

She stared into her champagne flute. Did she want to know the answer?

Yes. I need to know. Even if the truth hurts, I have to find out why he threw the bet.

Maybe he’d had enough. One afternoon and he was ready to move on. Sure, he’d told his teammates—including Cade—he’d lost while they were in public. But Jack had probably called his brothers before the dinner and told them a very different story.

Maybe not. Maybe he wants me. Not the bet. Or the win. Just me.

And just like that, the hope she’d kept in hibernation for years peeked out and looked straight toward another night with her charming SEAL.

Not mine.

That hope was a double-edged sword. Because she didn’t want hope. She knew where that led. She’d open her heart to him, but eventually, he’d leave her. And she couldn’t—wouldn’t—let herself be abandoned ever again.

She downed the rest of her champagne. He couldn’t be hers. Not her lover or her boyfriend. She’d stopped relying on others so long ago. Sure, she had Cade. But their friendship worked because he never pushed for more than she could give. Cade understood that her trust had limits.

She lowered her empty glass. She’d had so much ripped away from her. Her parents. Her first two foster families—just as she was starting to let them in. And then Lucia. One bad decision on her part, an escape to hang out with the other teenagers in her new town, and Lucia ended up hurt. Then separated from Natalie as she was sent off to heal.

And Natalie had been left alone and struggling with guilt.

Never again.

She couldn’t return to that place where people could hurt her—leave her.

And Jack would leave. He had his career. She’d watched Cade deploy mission after mission, close to three hundred days spent God knew where last year.

Even if he stayed in Coronado, he’d walk away from her sooner or later. The things he wanted…the words he used to spell out his desires…

Black silk ties.

“Natalie?” Lucia peeked around the edge of the wine cellar divider. “Are you okay?”

Clutching her empty glass, she buried the dirty images in the back of her mind and smiled at her sister. “Fine. Just gathering my courage to face your friends knowing they spent the afternoon licking chocolate off the waiters.”

“It wasn’t that exciting,” Lucia said as she stepped around the corner and took Natalie’s free hand. “The manager came out and reminded us that no outside food was allowed. I think that was her nice way of saying the waiters are paid to flirt, but they draw the line at becoming human lollipops. I bet your afternoon was much more exciting.”

“It was fine,” she said.

Lucia raised a well-groomed eyebrow. Her sister’s makeup was perfect, drawing attention from the scars on her cheek. But the marks were still there. Not even the best makeup artist in Sin City could erase the past. It would follow them around forever.

But unlike her sister, Natalie wasn’t sure she could drag her baggage forward into a happily-ever-after future. Not that she planned to try. Because according to Jack, this afternoon never happened.