A SEAL's Salvation. Tawny Weber
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to ever ring through this murky garage.
Brody couldn’t help himself. He grinned. He just had to.
“You’re cute,” she decided, still smiling.
“Yeah?” He’d never been called cute before. Any number of other four-letter words, but not that one.
“Yeah,” she said, stepping closer. Too close. Her scent wrapped around him, light and tasty, like the daiquiris he mixed in the bar on nights his old man passed out before closing.
Brody’s smile disappeared.
Shit. She thought they were having a conversation.
He should have stuck to grumpy and silent.
“You need to leave.”
Please.
“I don’t think so,” she murmured, her words so quiet they were a whisper on the heavy night air.
He could actually feel his brains start to slip away. Bad news, since he needed them. They were there to remind him to stay away from her. To caution him to keep his hands to himself. To warn him about those male relatives of hers. The ones he was supposed to watch out for. Whatever the hell their names were.
But she was close enough now for him to see the band of midnight encircling her pupils, all the more vivid against the pale blue of her irises.
“You really need to go.” Desperate, he reached out to move her aside. Because if she wasn’t leaving, he was.
But the minute he touched her, all thought of either one of them leaving fled. His fingers curled over the smooth, deliciously soft skin of her upper arms. She was so slender, but he could feel the muscles there. She was so warm, he felt like a tiny piece of him, forever frozen, was melting in his chest.
It was terrifying.
Those fascinating eyes huge and locked on his, she reached out to trail her fingers over his chest. Her touch was so soft and tentative, as if she were petting a wild animal. Or a rabid dog.
Brody wondered if he bared his teeth and growled, would she run?
He should try it.
But those fingers had shorted out his ability to think.
It was as if she’d reached in and flipped the last switch.
Brain, off.
Dick, on.
When she leaned closer, he realized she was the perfect height.
She fit perfectly against his body, her slender curves hitting all his favorite spots.
Her mouth was right there. Waiting.
He dropped his gaze, noting the slight quiver in the full, red cushion of her lower lip. He met her eyes again. No nerves there. Just heat. Pure, hot, intense.
Insistent.
“Kiss me.”
“It’s a bad idea.”
“Sure it is,” she agreed, her gaze not leaving his as she leaned in, closing those last few infinitesimal inches between them. Her breath warmed his mouth just before she brushed the slightest whisper of a kiss against his lips.
“So be bad.”
2
GENNA’S ENTIRE BODY was quivering. Nerves. Excitement. Desire. She couldn’t tell which was which. Just knew they were all there.
She stared up at Brody, her entire being engulfed by his presence. Everything was brighter. Stronger. Bigger.
The overhead light glinted blue in the vivid black of his hair as it fell over his forehead, stick-straight strands hanging in his golden-brown eyes.
Her heart beat so hard against her chest she was surprised it didn’t jump right out and glom on to him. She wanted him so much. Breathing deeply, she filled her lungs with his scent. Clean like soap, but earthy. All male. All man.
Her lips trembled so much, she wanted to bite down to keep them still. But she was afraid that might discourage him from taking her be bad suggestion.
She really wanted him to be bad.
She needed him to take over. Because that kiss, that tiny little brush of her lips, that was about the extent of her experience.
“Please,” she whispered.
Ah, there it was. The magic word. Brody closed his eyes as if in prayer. When he opened them, the caution was gone. Instead, he was looking at her as though he was starving. As though he was the big bad wolf, and she was a delicious treat.
His gaze locked on hers, demanding that she watch him kiss her.
His lips were so soft. Tension she hadn’t allowed herself to acknowledge seeped away as they rubbed over hers. Angling this way, shaping her mouth that way. So wonderful.
Then his tongue slid over the seam of her lips. Wet heat.
Oops, there came that tension again. And it’d brought a whole slew of wickedly enticing feelings with it. They whipped through her body, making her knees weak. Her heart race. And her panties damp.
His lips were just a whisper against hers. Still soft as he seemed to be memorizing the shape of her mouth with his tongue. He was touching only her shoulders, his hands so light she could barely feel them.
But the look in his eyes was so intense, so demanding, that she shivered. It was as if he were promising that she’d have to strip naked and share her every naughty secret. That she do all sorts of things she’d only heard in whispers, read in her favorite romance novels and sneaked peeks at on the internet.
She’d never realized that fear had a sexy edge. That the aching physical lure of it could beckon, even as her mind cautioned her that this kiss, this man, and whatever was coming next, were way, way out of her league.
Then, as if he couldn’t stand the teasing any longer, his tongue swept into her mouth and, thankfully, his eyes closed. Releasing her.
He tasted so good. His tongue was pure power as it slid along hers, teaching her how he wanted her to respond.
Genna moaned, her stomach feeling as if she’d just taken a dive on a roller coaster.
Relieved, she closed her own eyes, concentrating instead on the clamoring of sensations spinning through her body. It was easier this way. It felt safer. As though she could just let go and not worry about what might happen next.
Her hands trailed, whisper-soft, over his chest. He was so hard, muscled but not bulky. Her fingers found a scar, long and rigid. As she wrapped her arms low around his back, she discovered a few more. She wanted to kiss them, every single one. To wish away the hurts she knew he’d suffered. She wanted to make him happy. To make him feel so good, he’d forget about all the bad he’d ever felt.
As if hearing her wish, her fingers—and she swore it was of their own volition—skimmed the waistband of his jeans. The fabric was soft. Worn. And so easy to slip her hand beneath.
His breath caught, the action pressing his hard chest against her aching nipples. He groaned, a low rumble against her mouth, before pulling away.
She wasn’t sure, since her blood was pounding too hard for her to hear, but she thought she whimpered.
“No.”
“Yes,” she whispered back. She wanted to smile, to marshal together a clever argument that’d convince him that this was a good idea. But deep inside, beneath the crush that was driving her past reason, she knew it really wasn’t. Just as she knew he wasn’t going to listen to a thing she said.
Which left only one option for getting her way.
And that was physical.
More nervous than before her driving test, her SATs and opening her letter from