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Authors: Tawny Weber

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BOOK: A SEAL's Pleasure
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“Not really.” Tessa leaned forward to set her plate on the table, her eyes sliding to Gabriel for the first time since he'd walked into the room. “It's more a testament to my determination to stay in control. Alcohol has a way of making people do stupid things they end up regretting later.”

“Or it gets rid of those inhibitions that keep them from doing the things they really want,” Gabriel suggested.

“If someone wants to do something, they do it,” she argued, her tone still friendly. “It'd be a sad way to go through life if one needed excuses in order to let themselves have a good time, don't you think?”

“Well, what I really want is coffee,” Livi declared in a cheery tone. Whether she was seriously needing a caffeine fix or if she just wanted to get out of the line of fire, Gabriel didn't know. But she gathered the plates and headed for the kitchen with Irish in tow pretty damned fast.

Never able to ignore a challenge, Gabriel set his plan aside and offered Tessa a slow smile that said he knew exactly what she was doing, but was more than willing to play.

“What's worse?” he asked in a musing tone as he gave in to the need and looked her over from head to foot. He'd never known a more beautiful woman. Or one he craved so desperately. Figuring a little honesty would impress her more than games, he tilted his head. “Excuses in order to have a good time? Or excuses to run from one?”

* * *

“I
SUPPOSED
IT
'
S
all perspective,” Tessa said with a slow, meandering inspection of her own. Damn, the man was gorgeous. From the tip of his closely shorn black hair to the toes of his impressively large boots, he was a study in, well, studliness. The little black cloud that'd been hovering over Tessa's mood didn't stand a chance against Romeo's appeal. “One person's excuse is another person's reality after all.”

“Nicely put,” he said with an impressed nod. “Philosophical, fair and completely reasonable.”

Tessa gave a regal inclination of her head.

“And totally bullshit,” he added, making her burst into laughter.

“You're calling bullshit on my reasonable philosophy?”

“I think I am. You see, we're a lot alike, you and me.” He waited a beat, as if giving her an opening to object. But Tessa didn't see any point arguing with the truth. His dark eyes glinted at her silence, then he continued. “You and I, angel, we're damned good at doing what we're good at.”

“Oh, now, there's a philosophical statement,” she teased.

“We're good at taking a challenge and making it our own,” he said quietly, his tone reflective. And so nonthreatening that she found herself nodding.

“We live on our own terms. We embrace what feels right. And we ignore what doesn't.”

Not sure why she felt so at ease with him sitting there reading her as if she was a book, Tessa found herself nodding again. Maybe she was comfortable with it because they were both on the same page. All he was doing was stating simple facts, and those facts would work just fine when she turned them around on him to support her refusing to play his little pay-for-sex-with-romance game.

“I'm still not hearing anything that makes my philosophy bullshit,” she pointed out with a sweet smile. Then, as much to get more comfortable as to tease him a little, she shifted her legs up onto the couch and slid her bare feet under her butt, the pleats of her leather skirt fanning out over her thighs.

Romeo's eyes darkened, his gaze a hot caress as it trailed over her legs before giving her an appreciative smile.

“We're experts at what we do,” he continued, his voice a half decibel lower. “So good, in fact, that we tend to be so used to our skills that we take them for granted.”

Tessa's brow creased a little. Did she take things for granted? Maybe she'd gotten so used to having life just the way she wanted it that she had.

“The problem with taking things for granted is we don't appreciate them the way they should be,” he said, as if reading her mind. He leaned forward. Tessa barely stopped herself from leaning in to meet him.

“Since I'm an expert, I know better than to tell you that you're the sexiest woman I've ever known. I know you're so used to men falling all over you that you wouldn't appreciate my telling you that I'm so fascinated by your lips that I can't forget their taste. The feel of them beneath mine is stuck in my memory, and even if I could dislodge it, I wouldn't.”

Remembering their kisses, Tessa had to swallow twice before she could wet those lips.

“But if I told you that, you'd pull out one of those excuses of yours. Probably something about the predictability of men, how I had my chance and blew it. Then you'd saunter away, wondering why men were so stuck on your looks that they never saw you as a person,” he said with a shrug.

Tessa shifted, all of that discomfort she'd wondered about hitting her like a brick wall. Just a lucky guess, she told herself. It wasn't as if he knew her that well.

“So I definitely wouldn't tell you what I'd like to do the next time I get my lips on you. How I'd like to spend at least an hour with those lips before I slide my mouth over the delicate length of your throat. How I'd breathe in your scent, letting it wrap around me like an aphrodisiac.”

Tessa took a deep breath through her nose. She was too used to her own perfume to smell it, but she could breathe in the scent of Romeo. Like the ocean, it was light and clean with undertones of something dangerous. Yeah. She could imagine some women—more gullible than she—thinking it was an aphrodisiac. There was something sexy about his scent that reached deep into her belly and stirred her desires.

“But when I breathe you in, I forget things like excuses and expertise. All I can think of is finding your pleasure zones.”

How'd he do that? One second he'd been talking philosophy, the next he was verbally seducing her. Tessa's pulse raced, her body humming with awareness. A few words and one look and he had her so close to the edge.

Worried she was losing control—of the conversation, of the relationship and of her own body's reaction—Tessa grasped for some of that expertise he'd mentioned and shot him a look. She was going for arch disdain, but was afraid it was closer to eager curiosity.

“Pleasure zones?” she said, tapping her fingers on her knee as if she were bored. Or, in this case, trying to subtly shake off some of the sexual overload. “So, what? Your expertise extends to discovering new erogenous zones? Aren't you clever.”

He flashed a grin, fast and appreciative, before he shook his head.

“I have to admit, I'm not one of those guys who thinks that women are interchangeable,” he said in the tone of a man confessing a horrible fault. “I figure every woman's pleasure zone is as unique as she is.”

“Mmm, I'll bet you score big-time with that pickup line.” Tessa arched one brow, pretending she hadn't had to swallow a couple of times to push her words past her tight throat.

“Please. Do you think I need pickup lines?” He gave her a look that would have been arrogance on any other man's face. But on Romeo it simply bespoke a confidence based on experience.

She shifted uncomfortably, disturbed at how alike they really were.

“I don't need gimmicks any more than I need a generic map of a woman's erogenous zones,” he continued, his voice a little lower, whether because he didn't want to be overheard, or because he wanted her to lean in closer to hear him, she wasn't sure.

Tessa stubbornly leaned back.

“Pleasure zones rely on combinations. For instance, I already know you like your kisses hard and long. You are all about the thrust of my tongue over yours, our lips sliding together.”

She pressed her lips together tightly.

“But what I don't know is where you'd like to be touched while I kiss you,” he mused. “Do you want me to grab your butt, squeezing as I pull you tight against my body? Or do you prefer something softer, a gentle graze of my fingers over your breasts while we kiss?”

Her nipples peaked, hard and stiff. Tessa took a deep breath, the thick satin of her bra rubbing erotically against the tender flesh.

“Or maybe you'd rather I grab your wrists, holding them overhead with one hand while I kiss your neck, just there, where it meets the curve of your shoulder. With my free hand I'd squeeze your breast, my thumb working your nipple into a stiff peak.”

Holy mother of pleasure. Tessa swallowed hard to keep from moaning. His words were hypnotic, as powerful as if he were really touching her. Need coiled, low and tight in her belly. Her pulse jumped and her mouth went dry at the look on his face. That was how he'd look if he were poised over her, his powerful body thrusting into her welcoming heat.

“Or maybe we'd go a little slower,” he said, his voice more intense, more demanding. “I might try grazing your nipples with my lips while my palms skim over your skin, teasing and tempting along your waist, down to your thighs. I'd slip my fingers into your heat.”

As if he'd done just that, her heat trembled. She clenched her thighs tight, struggling not to wiggle or squirm. She'd always heard counting backward or reciting the Gettysburg Address worked to delay an orgasm. She didn't know that it'd delay it long enough for her to get home to the privacy of her bedroom. But she'd take a minute or two, enough time for her to either derail this little verbal seduction, for the coffee fairies to interrupt it or for a miracle to happen and Romeo say the wrong thing.

“I'd want to start slow, just rubbing your bud between my fingers while I suck your nipple into my mouth,” he said, his words so quiet now they were almost a growl. “But as soon as I knew how you liked it, I'd intensify my focus. I'd plunge my finger inside you, work you with my thumb, tease you with my tongue.”

Tessa didn't get past the forefathers bringing forth the nation before she felt it. That tiny ping of passion's coil springing free. Her orgasm was fast and sweet, a quick pop of pleasure that burst through her system. Her gasp was barely an inhalation, but she knew Romeo was as aware of her climax as she was.

For the first time in her life, she felt a little embarrassed by her sexual response. All he'd done was talk. And not even dirty talk. And poof, she'd come in a burst of pleasure. She'd never gone up so easily.

It took a couple of seconds for her to level out her system. Her thighs stopped trembling, but her nipples still ached, and her pulse was bouncing around like a rubber ball.

“That's why all of your philosophy, any of your excuses won't matter.” Romeo's eyes were molten with satisfaction, as if he'd taken as much pleasure from her orgasm as she had. “They won't stop the inevitable.”

“And what's the inevitable?” she breathed, even though she was pretty sure of the answer.

“Us, together. Sex, wild and uncontrolled. Passion, hot and intense. Sooner or later, it'll happen,” he promised. “It's inevitable.”

“There's more to the decision to have sex than the simple pursuit of pleasure,” she insisted. A little voice in the back of her head taunted her for being a hypocrite, but she ignored it. “But seeing as you're such an expert, I'm sure you already know that.”

It was a lousy comeback, but with her body still trembling and her brain on meltdown, it was the best she could do.

Desperate for control, wishing she could grab a little of her pride back, Tessa gave him a dismissive look. Then, taking her time, she gracefully slid to her feet and headed for the kitchen to hurry up the coffee.

It was that or prove herself a liar and jump him.

7

T
ESSA
PACED
THE
length of her bedroom, the lush carpet sinking beneath her bare toes with every step. The room was an ode to sensuality, from the satin headboard to the velvet pillows, from the bleeding hues of reds and purples to the art deco nudes gracing the walls. Roses poured out of an ice pick of a vase, the scent rich and seductive.

Usually, the bedroom was Tessa's haven. Just stepping through the door brought her relaxation.

Except tonight.

She blamed Romeo.

It'd been two days. Two whole, entire days, and she still couldn't believe he'd gotten her off so quickly, so easily. Under five minutes, with words alone. While their friends were in the other room making coffee, no less.

Tessa shoved her hands into her hair, grabbed a couple of fistfuls and tugged. But that didn't change the facts.

It'd been good.

Damned good.

The heady warmth of remembered pleasure trickled through her body, assuring her that yes, indeed, that'd been one hell of an orgasm.

And then what had he done? Had he tried to convince her to take him home afterward? Had he flirted through coffee or make any sexual innuendos?

No.

He'd made a few minutes of friendly conversation, offered some lame excuse and left.

All he'd said to her was that he'd be in touch.

What the hell was wrong with him?

And what had he meant when he'd said he'd be in touch?

Did he plan to stop by her place?

She stopped in the doorway, resisting the urge to hurry out and make sure the apartment was tidy. And, more important, that there was nothing emotionally incriminating for him to see.

Like the stuffed bunny she'd kept since childhood, or any of the notes to herself she usually stuck on the refrigerator door with reminders like “cheer up” or “buy yourself flowers, you deserve it.” Or worse, the graduation photo of her and her mom—one of the few shots Tessa had with her mother that didn't feature any of her men of the month.

Biting her lip, she almost hurried out to hide them away. Then she stopped herself.

He wasn't coming here.

She was sure he was off somewhere, doing military things like marching or maybe swimming, since he was a SEAL. He'd only said he'd be in touch because he wanted to make her nervous. It was a game. A lame attempt to make sure she kept thinking about him.

As if she needed any reminders of what he'd done. Or of the way his lips curved into a wicked smile to match the angle of those razor-sharp cheekbones. Lips like that were unforgettable. Sexy and tempting all by themselves, but even more memorable when they were attached to that body.

Tessa puffed out a breath, her heart dancing a little faster as images of that body flashed through her mind.

And, oh, what a body it was.

Between her job, her work with Livi in the fitness field and her extensive personal experience with men, Tessa had seen plenty of sexy men. But none seemed to have the perfect combination that Romeo had.

From the muscled breadth of his shoulders down to those rock-hard biceps. Oh, the biceps. Tessa paused the mental journey for a second to give a deep sigh of appreciation for the glory that was Romeo's biceps.

The man was seriously built. The only thing better than his biceps was his ass. Such a sweet ass. The kind that'd fit just right in her hands, waiting to be squeezed, or gripped by her fingers while he thrust into the waiting heat of her body.

Or maybe his smile. She'd bet he flashed women that same wicked smile when he was stripping his clothes off that sexy body. Did he smile when he slid his body over a woman's? Or did he get that intense, serious look she'd seen in his eyes every once in a while? That was the look that made him so dangerous.

When he turned it her way, she knew he could see all the way into her most secret desires, that he knew her deepest, darkest needs. Needs that she'd never had fulfilled, never trusted a man enough to share. Would Romeo know how to do her right?

She'd bet he would.

She skimmed her palm over her breast, the tip pebbled with need and tingling at her touch. Heat coiled, wet and needy in her belly. Lips pursed, she glanced at her bedside table with its drawer full of satisfaction.

All it'd take was a quick spin with one of her battery-operated toy friends and she'd be loose with pleasure.

But as much as she wanted the satisfaction, she resisted. Her body was so tight it probably wouldn't even take batteries to send her over the edge. But if she came because she was all hot for Romeo, it'd be as though she was dedicating her orgasm to him.

Tessa shook her head at the ridiculousness of that idea. But after another yearning glance at the drawer, she decided to take her pacing to the living room.

Not bothering with a robe, she side tripped into the kitchen wearing just a ruffled nighty, the soft white linen floating around her as she poured herself a glass of wine.

She just needed sex.

A fast, hot roll between the sheets, a few orgasms for two, maybe a bone-melting body slam against a wall.

Easy enough. All it'd take was a guy.

Tessa sighed, then took a medicinal gulp of wine.

The problem was, she only wanted one guy.

She couldn't have sex with some other guy while she was fantasizing about Romeo. That'd just be wrong.

Not just because she had a policy against having sex with a man if he wasn't good enough to put all fantasies out of her mind for the duration.

Nor because she didn't think it was fair to use a guy as a sex substitute. Not that most guys would care, but that wasn't the point.

She couldn't do it because she was pretty sure that all it would do was make her want Romeo more. It would be like craving an ice cream sundae and settling for a sugar-free Popsicle.

She knew most people thought that because she was so sexually confident, she slept with anyone, anytime. That she was having sex five nights a week, juggling partners as if they were circus tricks or that she had to change partners like other people changed sheets because she was so jaded.

Wouldn't they be shocked to find out she hadn't had sex in six months.

Tapping her fingers on the black granite countertop, Tessa frowned at her wine. Had it really been six months without sex?

Who was she?

She felt as though she didn't even know anymore.

Feeling a little sick to her stomach, Tessa drained the rest of her wine. She deliberately set the glass on the kitchen counter and walked out of the kitchen before she was tempted to go for a refill.

Because if a sexless six months weren't enough to make a girl want to drink, all of these stupid self-doubts definitely were.

She started pacing again, feeling lost in her own living room as she tried to sort through the weltering mess of emotions knotted in her stomach.

She'd never been so grateful to hear a telephone ring.

It was either Livi or Maeve. Nobody else ever called her this late. She grabbed the phone midpace and answered without checking the display.

“Distract me,” she said instead of offering a greeting. She'd take any distraction—even if it was techno-babble. Or worse, another endless debate over the merits of roses versus lilies in a bridal bouquet.

“Hello, angel. That's a difficult offer to resist.”

“Romeo?”

Talk about a distraction.
Her lips curved before she could stop them, heat curling low in her belly at the sound of his voice. How long was she supposed to resist a man who could get her wet and ready with just a few well-chosen words?

Tessa's smile gave way to a sigh.

Was that why he was calling? To pick up where he'd left off two days ago? A little phone sex?

“It's a little late to be calling,” she said, suspicion adding a chill to her tone.

“It's barely ten in your time zone,” he said, his shrug coming through clearly, even over the phone line.

“My time zone? Does that mean they've booted you out of Coronado already?” She should be glad. If he didn't live nearby, those little dessert treats at Livi and Mitch's would be few and far between. But the feeling in her stomach felt more like disappointment than happiness.

“Nah, they love me in California.” His words were light, the tone easy and fun, but there was an edge there. “I'm doing some training somewhere else, though.”

Training for a mission?

Tessa sank onto her couch, pulling a pillow close to hug to her chest. She wanted to ask if it was dangerous, but she was pretty sure most everything the SEALs did was probably dangerous.

“Why are you calling?” she asked, both to distract her sudden worries and because she was genuinely curious.

“I told you I'd be in touch. Consider this me, touching...” His pause was so loaded with sexual power that Tessa wouldn't be surprised if the phone melted. Then he continued in his usual tone, “Base.”

“Touching base?”

“You know, talk. Have a conversation. See what's going on and what you've been up to.”

She'd just bet that was what this was about.

“You're calling to chat,” she repeated, disguising her surprise with a heavy coating of sarcasm. “As if we're, what? Girlfriends?”

He laughed.

“Did you want to be my girlfriend?”

“You might not have noticed, but I'm a woman,” she proclaimed in an arch tone, ignoring the fact that she'd used the word
girl
first.

“Believe me, I noticed. A man would have to be dead a year to not notice.” Before she could make a clever comeback, he asked, “Have you seen Livi since the éclairs the other night?”

“Livi?” Surprised, Tessa sat on the leather arm of the couch, frowning in the dark. “I had lunch with her yesterday. Why? Is something wrong?”

“Nope, just wondering if you'd seen that picture the doctor sent home with her and Irish.”

“The sonogram?” Tessa slid from the arm of the couch onto the cushion. Livi had said everything was fine.

“Yeah, that's what Irish called it. Something to do with an ultrasound.”

“What about it?” Hurt and worry tangled together as Tessa wondered what Livi hadn't told her. She understood that Mitch would know; he was the baby daddy. But why would Livi keep news from her? Especially bad news. Weren't they best friends?

“Did you understand it?”

Tessa blinked a couple of times as she tried to process that question.

“Did I understand what? The picture?” Not quite past the anxiety attack he'd inspired, Tessa frowned. “I think it's made with sound waves or something.”

“Angel, I spend a lot of my time on a submarine. I'm trained in sonar. And I still couldn't find the baby in that picture.” He sounded so frustrated.

She bit her lip to keep from laughing.

“I think it's sort of like those
Magic Eye
picture books. Did you ever look at those when you were a kid? You have to relax your eyes and let the page blur to see the actual image.”

“I wasn't much into reading as a kid,” he admitted. “But if training in sonar didn't help, I doubt a picture book would.”

He sounded so frustrated. Since nobody was there to see her, Tessa grinned. Snuggling deeper into the couch, she pulled the cashmere throw from the back and tucked it around herself.

“So what did you say if you couldn't see the baby?” she asked.

“I asked if it had a penis, of course.”

With a burst of laughter, she accused, “You did not.”

“Hey, that's what guys want to know. We're all about the equipment.”

Pretty sure that talking about his equipment while sitting in the dark was not a good idea, Tessa just hummed.

“Okay, I didn't put it quite like that. I gave him a thumbs-up, asked if Livi and the blur were healthy, then suggested we finish cleaning the Ma Deuce. That's a big gun, by the way.”

“More equipment?” she murmured before adding, “That's about how I handled it. With a few oohs and aahs thrown in, of course.”

“But you didn't see anything?”

“Nope. Just a bunch of wavy lines,” she admitted with a sigh. Then she frowned into the dark. “This is why you called me? To ask about Livi and Mitch's sonogram?”

“Nope, that was to break the ice. You know, to bypass your suspicious nature and get you to talk to me.”

Tessa had to pry her chin off her chest before she could respond.

“You admit it?”

“Why not. You're smart, you'd have figured it out. This way, I'm honest and upfront, but I'm still on the other side of your defenses.”

She wanted to declare it a fail, but, dammit, he was right.

“Aren't you clever,” she declared, impressed despite herself.

“Yeah,” he said, sounding satisfied. “So what'd you do today?”

And just like that, they slid into the conversation he'd been calling for.

Her earlier unasked question popped into her mind, and before she could stop, it meandered right off Tessa's tongue.

“How long have you been a SEAL?” She waited to be told that was top-secret information.

“Five years with the SEALs, twelve in the Navy,” he said easily.

“You joined right out of high school?”

“I joined as soon as I turned eighteen,” he clarified. “I wasn't much into school, so I took the GED when I was sixteen.”

“Your parents were okay with that?”

“Nobody voiced any objections.” His words were smooth and easy, but Tessa could hear the undercurrent there. She wanted to ask questions, to delve deeper. But she knew he'd sidestep her curiosity. After all, that was what she'd do.

“So you didn't have to have a college degree to be a SEAL?” she asked instead, figuring that was safe ground.

“Only to be an officer.”

“And that's not something you wanted?”

BOOK: A SEAL's Pleasure
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