Sexy SEAL Box Set: A SEAL's Seduction / A SEAL's Surrender / A SEAL's Salvation / A SEAL's Kiss. Tawny Weber
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her thighs, preparing, readying herself for the delight she knew he’d give.
“Mine,” he protested, one of his hands sliding down to cover hers, twining their fingers together so they worked the aching swollen nub in concert.
Alexia moaned, heat swirling, passion building tight in her belly. Before she could climb too high, too fast, Blake bent her low over the table.
Her face nestled in her arms, she let him position her, lifting her hips for his entry. Even with proof so many times over of how big, strong and fabulous he felt inside, she still gasped with shock when, his hands braced on her hips, he plunged deep.
Her fingers dug into the tabletop, the wood cool and unyielding under her. Her hips shifted. Back, forth and back again, meeting his thrusts.
One hand still guiding her hips, he slid the other between her thighs, flicking his finger over the quivering bud there.
She cried out with pleasure.
He thrust again. Flicked once more.
Two strokes, then three. Her body exploded. Stars danced a wild boogie behind her closed eyelids as she gasped, moaning his name over and over. The orgasm rocked her, her body pressing tighter to the table, to his hips, as if she could somehow wring even more pleasure from the climax.
Her moves were all the encouragement he needed. Blake’s fingers dug into her hips, holding her still for his body. With a guttural moan, he plunged again, then once more. Then he groaned, loud and long. His thighs, so hard and strong, quivered against the back of hers.
Spent, totally empty, her body lay across the table as she tried to catch her breath. To find her thoughts. To remember her name.
“I have to go,” Blake murmured, his lips brushing her shoulder, making her shudder as yet another tiny orgasm rocked her body.
“No,” she protested. She wanted to lift her head, to roll over and grab on to him. But she didn’t have the strength. There was nothing left, he’d drained her dry.
She heard him move away but still couldn’t open her eyes.
“Look, I’ve got a thing tonight,” he told her. His voice was distant, as if he was trying to put space between them. A hint of panic flamed in her stomach. Before it could grow, he continued, “But I should be done by eleven, midnight at the latest. I’ll come back.”
Alexia’s lashes fluttered. She forced her head to turn so she could see him. She wanted to protest. To tell him to ask instead of inform.
She might even have plans.
Her brow furrowed.
Wait.
She did have plans.
“I’m busy tonight,” she realized, not sure which she wanted more. To exert herself, proving that this was a two-way street and she’d be calling just as many shots as he would. Or to grab on to an excuse to ditch the admiral’s retirement party and have another bout of mind-blowing sex.
“How busy?”
She sighed. She’d promised Michael she’d be there. And she’d promised herself that if she moved back, she’d make her best effort to get along with her parents.
“Very busy.” Pulling a face at having to climb off the cloud of sexual nirvana, she rolled to her side. Blake’s eyes heated to blue flames. “I’ve got a family thing going on.”
She only hesitated a second before adding, “But I can be back by midnight.”
He zipped his jeans, tucking his T-shirt in and giving her a long, contemplative look. As if he knew exactly what she was offering. Not just sex. Trust. A chance to see where this went. And, she admitted to herself with a sigh, rolling off the table, a boatload of expectations.
She could see the hesitation in his blue eyes. Knew he was weighing all that, probably against how fast he could hit the door. He stepped forward, sliding between her legs again and resting his hands on her bare waist.
Eyes open, staring into hers, he leaned down to meet her lips. Whisper soft, it was a promise, an acceptance. For the first time, his kiss didn’t make her think, Let’s get naked. It made her think, Wow, there goes my heart.
“Midnight, then,” he said, kissing her one more time before striding to the door.
And just like that, she felt committed. She didn’t know anything about him other than his name, that he was incredible in bed and that she’d trust him with her life.
Trust. That was the biggie.
Other than Michael, had she ever trusted another man in her life? Growing up with an emotionally—and often physically—absent father who ruled everything on a need-to-know basis, and a mother who didn’t bother sharing important things like when or where they’d be moving next because she hadn’t wanted to hear the whining, Alexia tended to demand a lot of information from people. Maybe it made her a little bit of a control freak, but she liked to know everything she could, before she made decisions.
And here she was, with a man who hadn’t told her anything.
Alexia pressed her fingers to her lips, still sticky with plum jelly. The front door shut behind Blake.
“It’s a date,” she whispered to the empty room.
“CHEERS, BUDDY,” Cade said, tilting his beer—in a glass, no tacky bottles at the admiral’s retirement party—against Blake’s. The sound was lost in the sea of well-modulated voices, yawn-worthy chamber music and the almost silent white noise of the air conditioner. “Gotta admit, the old guy has style.”
Blake shrugged. He’d grown up poor enough to appreciate that using a glass instead of the bottle gave the guy doing dishes a chance to earn a living. But other than that, opulence confused more than impressed him. What was the point? Rich people were more worried about showing off their fancy than guys were showing off the size of their...muscles.
He didn’t bother saying that to Cade, though. Compared to the Sullivans, Cade’s family, Admiral Pierce might as well move into the trailer park Blake had grown up in.
“What do you think he’s gonna do now that he’s retired?” Cade asked idly, his mellow tone at odds with the sharp intensity of his gaze as he scanned the crowd. “Put on one of those flowered shirts and putter in the garden?”
“I hope someone takes pictures,” Blake snorted. Then, after another drink, he shrugged. “He’s mentioned doing consults in D.C., maybe put together some programs here on the base.”
That was the great thing about Cade. No pissiness over Blake having an inside track with the admiral. Then again, Cade’s uncle was a senator and his father owned half of northern California. So he had plenty of inside tracks of his own.
“Why bother to retire, then?” Cade asked. “Retirement is supposed to be relaxing, isn’t it? Like R&R every day?”
Blake grimaced. That was way too much relaxing for him. Like this party, that kind of deal just wasn’t in his cards. He scanned the crowd again, looking for a waiter and another beer.
Unlike the poor civilian saps in tuxes, he and Cade, along with a bunch of bright shiny brass, got to wear their dress whites. It wasn’t fatigues, but close enough to keep him comfortable.
“Sir,” the waiter said with a little bow as he exchanged Blake’s empty glass for a full one.
He shifted his shoulders against the constricting fabric. At least he used to be comfortable. For the first time since he’d put it on, it felt as if his uniform didn’t fit right.
“What’s up?” Cade asked after exchanging his own glass. “You’ve been antsy as hell all night.”
“Just want to get out of here. This