Bound By Seduction (A Red-Hot SEALs Novella Book 2) (14 page)

Demi bit back a shriek, her muscles drawing tight around him, her arms turning into a vice and refusing to let him go. Dimly, she heard him laugh, a rough, velvety sound full of male satisfaction. That thick tension had seized her again, was cinching tighter and tighter with each stroke of his fingers and suckle of his lips against her neck, until it exploded, hurling her into the abyss.

This time, when she returned to awareness and opened her eyes, she found Aiden staring down, watching her. She flushed, suddenly self-conscious. “What?”

Stroking the back of his knuckles down her cheek, he simply shook his head. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than you, when you come. You glow, and your eyes get so wide, bright, and liquid—” He broke off, flushing slightly. Apparently the self-consciousness was catching. Clearing his throat, he grinned. “You also come faster than any woman I’ve known.”

Known? As in the biblical sense? The two interested Barbies from the parking lot flashed through her mind, and jealousy stung. How many women had he known? She barely snatched the question back before it hit the air.

None of your business, Demi. Besides, do you really want to know?

She forced her mind past that particular road block and tried to resume the teasing tone they’d fallen into throughout the day. “These past five hours have been non-stop foreplay. Let’s just say the pump was primed.”

“Or I’m damn good.” To illustrate his point, his hand went to work between her legs again. Only this time he worked two fingers inside her.

She groaned, helplessly trembling beneath the dual caress of his thumb and fingers. Happy to give credit where it was due, she cleared her throat. “Let’s call it fifty-fifty.”

He chuckled, a dark chocolate rasp of a sound. “I don’t think so.”

Waves of tingling swept through her. Liquid fire pooled between her legs.

“You get so wet for me,” he said.

Well, that would have been an embarrassing revelation if he hadn’t sounded so full of wonder and satisfaction.

Kissing the side of her neck, he withdrew his hand and lifted her hips slightly, groaning as her legs rose to wrap around his hips. And then he was inside of her—the hot, thick length of him filling her to the core. She arched into his thrusts, riding him as much as he was riding her, faster and faster, while the heat built and pressure increased and the only thing left in the world was the man locked in her arms.

When she roused after her third trip to the sun, he was sound asleep beside her. At some point he’d pulled out and collapsed alongside her on the bed, although a heavy arm was draped over her waist, holding her in place. Which was a damn good thing, since she was crowded along the very edge of the mattress, and in danger of tumbling off without the support of his arm.

She sighed, the contentment so thick it had weight and volume, filling her completely. Lifting herself, she braced her elbow on the mattress and her head in her hand and stared at him. He was so big, he took up most the bed, even though she had a queen sized mattress.

“I can feel you thinking,” he said, his voice still rough around the edges, his eyes still closed.

A smile touched the corner of his mouth, which was—she peered intently—barely swollen at all anymore. Demi sighed, stroking a finger down his lips, grinning when he caught it gently with his teeth.

“We should send your sister a thank you gift,” she announced, “After all, none of this”—her hand slid down to his penis and stroked it back to attention—“would be possible without her healing.”

He grunted sleepily. She shifted her weight over her hip to ease the pressure on her elbow and almost fell off the bed. Would have fallen, if his arm hadn’t tightened around her and dragged her on top of his big body.

“I think I need a bigger bed.”

“Don’t bother.” He finally opened his eyes and pinned her with a glittering look. “You’ll be under me most of the time.”

She grinned down at him. “Or on top of you.”

He slid his fingers through hair and leaned up to kiss her nose. “I’m always open to compromise.”

That was good to hear. She hesitated, then shrugged. “I think that while we’re…” She chose her words with care, not wanting to give him the wrong impression or scare him off. “Sleeping together, we should be exclusive to each other.”

She drew a deep breath, ready to argue her case and explain why it didn’t really change the nature of their earlier agreement.

“I can live with that,” he said, with the strangest combination of satisfaction and amusement.

Frowning down at him, she studied his expression. The smugness was stamped across his face, too, like he’d just won some kind of battle or prize. She thought back, but couldn’t see any reason for that complacency. Regardless, she needed to deflate some of that self-satisfaction, and she knew exactly how to do it. Straightening, she climbed off him and slid from the bed.

“Hey.” He sat straight up in protest, pure sensual promise glittering in his heated gaze. “I wasn’t finished with you yet. I’m about to prove once and for all that a real SEAL in your bed is a thousand times more satisfying than those books you and my sister devour by the sacksful.”

She almost passed out from anticipation—but, first things first.

“I want to try an experiment,” she announced, glee bubbling inside her.

His gaze narrowed, and he looked suspicious. At least for a second, before he noticed that she was naked. The suspicion shifted to hunger and his gaze dropped to her breasts. “What experiment?”

“Oh, it’s just something I saw on the science channel the other night,” she told him with an airy wave of her hand. “About how men react to the color red.”

“So what’s the experiment?” he asked, back to looking suspicious.

“I’m going to put on something red, and see how you react.”

He swept her naked body with hot, hungry eyes. “Trust me, baby, nothing you wear is going to crank my engine like what you’re wearing right now.”

She grinned. They’d see about that. “Close your eyes. No peeking.”

He groaned, but fell back on the mattress with his eyes closed. She collected the fuck-me-now ensemble from the night before and headed for the bathroom. It seemed to take forever to struggle into the outfit, and force her feet back into those punishing four-inch stilettos—which she thought was due to anticipation, at least until he shouted at her from the other side of the door.

“How much longer you gonna be, sweetheart? I’ve got some experiments of my own we can try.”

She paused at the sultry promise in his voice before adjusting the neckline of her sweater for maximum boob spillage. “Almost done. Close your eyes.” She listened to an onslaught of grumbling and choked back a laugh. “Are your eyes closed?”

“Yes.” There was a definite bad tempered snap to his voice.

Apparently the man was used to instant obedience. She’d have to break him of that expectation. She opened the bathroom door and peeked around the edge to make sure his eyes were closed—then strode out in her, as Brett Taggert had put it, military grade weaponry.

“Okay, you can look.” She posed at the foot of the bed with one hip jutted out for impact.

Sighing loudly, with a long-suffering expression on his face, he opened his eyes and lifted his head. His gaze locked on her face, before he did one of those up and down sweeps from the night before. For a split second his eyes widened in pure shock, and then a blast of arousal swept the room. He jackknifed up and off the bed.

“What the hell?” A thundercloud closed over his face. “You wore that to the Bottoms Up?” Horrified disbelief lifted his voice into a shout. “Are you crazy?”

Okay, that wasn’t the reaction she’d been going for. Scowling, her hands dropped from her hips. “What’s wrong? You don’t like it?”

“Hell, yeah, I like it.” He stalked toward her, his naked body powerfully beautiful in the filtered sunlight streaming through the skylights ringing her bedroom’s A-framed ceiling. “As long as it’s a private show, in a private place where the clothes can come off.”

She stared at him, barely hearing the qualifications, mesmerized by the lean masculine grace of his stride and the play of muscles down his thick thighs and calves. To her disbelief, heat stirred again, a slow, languid slide through her belly and into her chest. The previous ravenous hunger had quieted, sated by their three—she did a double take as the number echoed through her mind.

Three times
?

She counted off the sessions. Yep, three. Apparently the legendary stamina of SEAL team members wasn’t an exaggeration.

He closed in on her, sweeping her up in his arms with no effort at all, and damned if that didn’t get the tingles and butterflies going. There was something so sexy about a man in prime physical condition.

Her fuck me now attire came off a thousand times faster than it had gone on—exactly as intended. There was no doubt about it, those brain scientists were onto something, red really did get the male motor cranking—as Aiden called it. She needed to download the rest of the series and see what other interesting tidbits their documentaries had to offer.

She grinned at the thought. Now that would be an interesting way to keep the sparks alive.

Smiling, she reached up, welcoming him to round four.

Dear Reader,

I hope you enjoyed Bound by Seduction, the first of the Red-Hot SEALs novellas.

If you’d like to read more books set in my Red-Hot SEALs world, please visit my website—
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I’ve included a brief description and excerpt of my Spirit Woods novella starting on the next page—I hope you’ll check it out.

As always, thanks for reading!

Best wishes,

Trish McCallan

About the Author

Trish McCallan was born in Eugene, Oregon, and grew up in Washington State, where she began crafting stories at an early age. Her first books were illustrated in crayon, bound with red yarn, and sold for a nickel at her lemonade stand.

Trish grew up to earn a bachelor’s degree in English literature with a concentration in creative writing from Western Washington University, taking jobs as a bookkeeper and human-resource specialist before finally quitting her day job to write full time.

Forged in Fire came about after a marathon reading session, and a bottle of Nyquil that sparked a vivid dream.

She lives today in eastern Washington.

An avid animal lover, she currently shares her home with three golden retrievers, a black lab mix and three cats.

Excerpt from

Spirit Woods

by Trish McCallan