Hot SEAL, Taking the Plunge Page 5

  “Do you like what you do?”

  “Yeah, I do. I work with a great group of guys, and every day is different.”

  “I understand. You have to have a calling to stick with it, though. My father has been on the job for thirty years.”

  “That’s a long time. Is he going to retire anytime soon?”

  “I don’t know. I hope not. As long as he stays busy, he has less time to tell me what I need to do.”

  Eric laughed. “What about your mom?”

  “She died when I was six.”

  He caught her hand in his. “Mine died when I was seven.”

  “Eric—” She gripped his arm and rested her cheek against it. “I’m sorry.”

  “I am for both of us. But we both survived it and seem to be reasonably well-balanced people,” he said.

  “Most of the time.” She tried to lighten the moment. “When I’m not running over motorcycles. How long will it take for them to fix your bike?”

  “A week at least. But she’ll come back to me as good as new. Todd’s a magician.”

  She hoped so, because she could tell Eric was crazy about his motorcycle.

  “I love it here,” she commented as her attention moved back to the water to watch light reflecting off the waves.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. My dad used to bring me here to fish off the pier.”

  He grinned. “Did you bait your own hook?”

  “Of course, and took my own fish off. If you’re going to catch fish, it’s your responsibility to do it all. I even had to clean my catch.”

  “I can tell by your expression, you didn’t like that one bit. Did your dad try to turn you into a tomboy?”

  “No, he just wanted me to be responsible and controlled. Looking back at it, I see he has taught me a lot of important things, but my grandmother had to take care of the girly things.” And provide a softer, more comforting type of love. And remind her father she was his daughter and not enlisted in the Navy.

  “And what was important to you?” Eric asked dragging her away from painful memories.

  He’d cut to the heart of it all with one question. Her whole life she’d struggled against the unrelenting control her father imposed on her.

  He loved her in his way, but it was hard for him. And harder for her to look for the love in every hard-edged moment. Like last night.

  Where was the love in what he said?

  There wasn’t any.

  “I wanted a home. A real home. Not just a roof over my head. I guess that’s why I love to remodel and rebuild homes for other people, so they can enjoy their family and not have to worry about the inconvenience of the house being a project. Most of the homes I help renovate are for families with young children. Most of the apartments I do are designed for young couples looking to build a life together.”

  Eric remained silent for a long moment. Home had been just out of reach for him everywhere he went. She had a father, and a grandmother she spoke of with love. And yet she searched for the same thing. “You seem to have designed your own space at home to tell your story. Everything in there says something about you.”

  “We tend to fill our spaces with things that have an emotional meaning for us, don’t we?”

  All he had to do was look at the books on her shelves and the things she displayed there to know she was interested in traveling and learning about the places she visited. And she loved her job. He wasn’t so sure about the books about weapons, though. What would she learn from the way he decorated his space?

  “The only thing you’ll think looking at my space is ‘What the hell is this fool going for?’”

  Rylie laughed. “I bet you have things to do with motorcycles, scuba gear, and your naval paraphernalia.”

  “Yeah, I do.” And not much else. He was used to traveling light, a habit he picked up going from foster home to foster home. No, it had started before that. How many times had they moved when his mother was alive? She had done the best she could… He flinched away from the memory.

  Even after joining the Navy and making it into the teams…he still carried it all with him.

  He caught Rylie’s gaze on him and took the opportunity to draw her in close. Her hands were still cold through his knit shirt as they ran up his back. He pulled his leather jacket around her to share his body heat and was rewarded when she cuddled close. He was hot and hard for her instantly. He ran his fingers through her thick dark hair to caress the back of her neck and felt her shiver.

  He soaked in the feel of her slender body against his, and his voice was husky as he said, “We’d better head back before the rain starts.” When they were remounting the bike he added, “Now you’re warmed up a little, we’ll stop for ice cream along the way. I know just the place.”

  CHAPTER 7

  It seemed Eric did know a place for every kind of food. The Baked Bear was just the place for ice cream with a wonderful twist. Ice cream sandwiches of every flavor. They were so huge she suggested sharing one.

  She groaned as she savored the first bite of white Chocolate macadamia nut cookie and the rich, sweet chocolate ice cream. Perfect. And she hummed in appreciation. “This might be better than…” She started to say sex and substituted, “the fried ice cream. “Do you eat out a lot?”

  Eric’s wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Not really. You know that cookbook, A Man, A Can, and a Plan?”

  She smiled. “I believe I’ve heard of it.”

  “There’s more than one, and I have them all.”

  She laughed. “Well, you look very healthy so they must be pretty good.”

  “Do you cook?” he asked.

  “I can boil water and scramble eggs.” She’d surprise him sometime with a good meal.

  “You’re probably one of those closet chiefs. I didn’t go into your kitchen, but I bet you grow your own herbs.”

  “Not a chance. All I have to do is look at a plant and it curls up its little leaves and croaks.”

  Eric chuckled.

  “I don’t do it intentionally. I work a lot. I just forget I have them, and by the time I remember…they’re toast.”

  “I can help you with that. It’s called a watering spike. You just have to remember to fill the reservoir now and then.”

  She studied his masculine features, the shadow of beard along his jaw and that miniscule shift in the bridge of his nose. For all his humor, there was something lonely about him that made her want to hold him. Every time he looked at her, she felt a tug of attraction that made her want to go around the table and sit in his lap and kiss him.

  When he rose to toss the trash into the bin, she stood. Their date had to end sometime, and it was getting late and she had to work tomorrow.

  Though she had mentioned her family, he had avoided saying anything about his.

  Just as she had avoided telling him who her father was.

  Guilt burrowed deep, but she didn’t want this connection they were forging to end prematurely, and it would without a doubt if she mentioned Black Jack. Eric would run like the hounds of hell were on his heels because her father was an admiral and could end his career.

  When Eric turned the motorcycle into the apartment complex parking lot and blew by the main entrance, nerves tap-danced in her stomach.

  He cut off the engine. She slipped off the back of the motorcycle with as much grace as she could. He parked the bike and dismounted.

  He caught her hand and they walked toward the apartment.

  She was so drawn to him. His sense of humor. The way he smiled. All right, she wanted to sleep with him. Every time he touched her every nerve in her body was electrified.

  It didn’t have to be something permanent. Did it?

  But she’d only slept with two men in her life, and both were long-term relationships. Three years in college and three after. Would this attraction lead to something permanent, and how would her father react?

  In the elevator she leaned against Eric for a moment and felt the solidne
ss of his body, the firm, steady way he held her. He smelled of leather, detergent, and him. A scent totally masculine, totally sexy.

  He bent his head and his mouth took hers in a kiss that parted her lips. His tongue touched hers, tempting her. She cupped the back of his neck as their lips and tongues enticing each other to go deeper. He pulled her in, molding her against his long, lean body.

  Desire reigned for several moments, and her mind shut down to everything but him and how he made her feel. She raked her fingers through the longer hair at the back of his head.

  He pulled back to look down at her, his pale blue eyes dark with arousal.

  With her heart still pounding and the rest of her ripe for the feel of his hands on her body, she led the way down the hall.

  They reached her apartment door, she unlocked it, and turned to face Eric, reaching for the dangling pull on his jacket zipper and tugging him into the apartment before locking the door.

  When she unzipped his leather jacket, and he shucked it in a hurry while she shook free of hers. His hands ran down over her hips and he dragged her in close while his mouth caught hers.

  Rylie embraced the onslaught while his hand snaked up under her blouse and cupped her breast. Her nipple peaked beneath his touch and currents of sensation trickled downward to the intimate heart of her. She dragged in a ragged breath as his mouth left hers to find the crook of her neck.

  She tugged his shirt up and pressed her bare belly against his. Eric hummed, the sound masculine and sexy. The muscular tautness of his abs against hers tempted her touch, and she tucked her fingers in behind the waistline of his jeans while his abdomen contracted.

  Eric straightened, his blue eyes dark, his cheeks flushed. His hands moved restlessly beneath her blouse. “Bedroom?”

  She grabbed his hand and led him down the hall. Within the few moments it took them to walk those few steps, the mood changed. Eric urged her to sit down. He knelt to remove her shoes and socks.

  Without standing, he stripped off his shirt with one quick, easy, upward tug and tossed it in the small chair in the corner of the room.

  Her mouth dried at the beauty of him. His long torso, lean with muscle, was surely sculpted by an angel.

  He unbuttoned her blouse, eased it off her shoulders, and tossed it over the arm of the chair.

  She ran her hands over his shoulders, pressed an open-mouthed kiss on the mounded muscle between his neck and shoulder, and felt him shiver.

  He unhooked her bra and eased it down her arms, cupping her breasts in his hands until her nipples peaked and grew hypersensitive to his touch. “Scoot back on the bed.”

  Offering herself up to his control was difficult, but the way he was touching her, caring for her, bowled over her resistance. She slid back and lay down.

  Eric unzipped her jeans and bent over her to press a kiss on the bare skin between her navel and her panties. He eased both her jeans and panties down while he tempted and teased her with lips, teeth, and tongue, until she was breathless and aching for him.

  He eased off the end of the bed to shuck his pants and briefs. His hips were narrow, his legs corded with muscle. His erection, long and thick, thrust out from his body, and her longing quickened in response. “Condoms?” he asked.

  Rylie swallowed to moisten a mouth gone dry with anticipation and reached for her nightstand drawer. She took out an unopened box, broke the plastic seal with shaking hands, pulled out a condom package, and waited until he joined her on the bed before she tore open the wrapper, positioned the condom, and rolled it down over him. He did run hot, he felt so warm in her hand. She looked up to see Eric’s pale blue irises had nearly disappeared as his pupils expanded.

  She cupped the back of his neck and drew his mouth to hers. He eased down until he was skin to skin with her. When he slipped inside her, she sighed in relief. Never in her life had she wanted a man this much.

  Her hands moved restlessly over his back as she moved beneath him, countering his slow, steady thrusts. The pleasure grew until it was almost unbearable. He drove her up and over the edge, pausing only long enough to let her catch her breath before thrusting harder, faster, and building her pleasure up again. Rylie cried out as she climaxed the second time, the powerful sensation barreling through her, leaving her fingers and toes tingling.

  The harsh beat of Eric’s heart matched the pulse of his climax echoing inside her. His hot breath fanned her shoulder as she caressed the back of his neck and found a spot to press an open-mouthed kiss against his shoulder.

  Never had she experienced such perfect lovemaking. She wanted to do it all over again.

  Eric balanced on his arms and knees above her while his heart continued to pound. He must have been starved for sex to have experienced such a powerful release.

  “I’ll be right back.” He eased away from her and paused to brush a kiss along her cheek before rising to deal with the condom.

  In the bathroom he ditched the condom and took care of cleanup. He washed his hands and splashed water on his face.

  He liked the way she wasn’t ashamed or embarrassed about wanting him. Feminine without being a clinging vine. And totally comfortable with her body. And his.

  Her laugh, husky, sexy, drove him crazy.

  What the hell was he doing, allowing her to get under his skin?

  He shook his head. It was already too late.

  She’d eventually tire of him dodging questions or heading them off before she could ask them. He made that mistake before and it hadn’t ended well.

  He came out of the bathroom to find she’d pulled the sheets up. Her dark blue eyes looked violet as they settled on his face. She offered him a sweet smile.

  He slipped into bed beneath the sheet and gathered her close. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

  Uncertainty leapt into her gaze. “What is it?”

  “I’m a Navy SEAL.”

  She remained silent for a moment. “I thought you might be. McP’s is known as a SEAL hangout, and the friends you were with last night all seemed to have that certain something about them.”

  He chuckled. “I’ll tell them you said that. It isn’t something any of us go around bragging about. We try to keep a low profile.”

  “I didn’t go out with you because I thought you were a SEAL. I’m not a groupie.”

  He chuckled. “Rylie, you have too much class to be a groupie.” His hand brushed up and down her back. “The reason I brought it up…we sometimes deploy at a moment’s notice. If that happens, I’ll try to call or text you so you won’t think I’ve blown you off.”

  She gave a big sigh and cuddled up to him. “Thanks.”

  “What did you think I was going to say?”

  “Something more like, ‘I’ve got a long-term girlfriend and she’s just out of town.’ Or ‘I’m just looking for a one-night stand.’”

  “I gave up one-night stands a long time ago.” After the first few encounters, he lost his taste for them. Meaningless sex wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. “And I guess I’ve been unlucky with long-term girlfriends.” Which was the truth, because he hadn’t been able to keep one. Every time he left himself open to possibilities he’d been shut down. Because of his job.

  But giving up on the job would be like giving up on his family. He couldn’t do that either.

  “I haven’t been lucky with long-term boyfriends either. I could understand my college boyfriend ending things. We’d both been so busy making it through our classes we were more roommates than lovers by the time we graduated. And I was too work-driven to suit Blake, my boyfriend after college. We were on again/off again so many times the drama just wasn’t worth it. So I ended it.”

  “You’re not a diva, Rylie, so it must have been him.”

  “His family has money, and he was spoiled to having anything he wanted. He couldn’t stand the competition my job represented.”

  “That doesn’t sound like someone you’d hook up with.”

  “He wasn’t. I think
we just kept finding each other again and again because we were lonely.”

  He could understand that, because he’d experienced the same kind of relationship. He turned on his side to face her, letting her feel his instant response to their closeness. “You’re not lonely right now, are you?” He caressed the curve along the small of her back to her ass.

  “No, not lonely.” Her eyes, almost black with something he couldn’t read, settled on his face. She ran a hand along his forehead, temple, and jaw. She…rose up to kiss him with a tenderness he wasn’t used to. She pushed against his shoulder and he rolled onto his back. She straddled his hips. The weight of her breasts rested on his chest as she swooped down to kiss him, and he hummed his appreciation beneath her lips while he cupped her breasts. They were perfectly shaped, soft, full, the nipples pale and instantly responsive to his touch.

  Then her fingers ran down the center of his stomach, then lower, to cup his erection. She stroked him slowly, while she nibbled his ear, then blew inside it.

  His dick went steel hard and he hissed, “Jesus.”

  “Something I can do for you?” she asked.

  “You can wrap me up in a condom and have your way with me. I promise to make it worth your while.”

  She laughed. “I believe you.”

  She reached across, got a condom, and covered him. She took him inside. “You feel so good to me.”

  “I don’t need any encouragement, Rylie. I’m hanging on here by a thread.” He gripped her waist and urged her to move. When she did, he lost himself in the building pleasure, in how their bodies moved together, the scent of her skin, the feel of her under his hands. When he climaxed, the power of it swept through him like a storm.

  CHAPTER 8

  Rylie tied the belt of her robe, eased out of bedroom, and carefully closed the door, needing caffeine. It would get her through the morning at least.

  She didn’t want to compare men and their techniques when making love, but Eric had a gift. He was a generous lover. More so than the other two men she’d been with. A smile lingered as she filled the coffee maker with water and grounds, hit the button switching on the machine, and turned to return to the bedroom.