Bound By Seduction (A Red-Hot SEALs Novella Book 2) (9 page)

How much longer was he going to sleep? While the taxi she’d summoned earlier was probably long gone, she could call for another one and run over to San Diego to pick her car up. He might not even awaken before she returned. There was no sense in just sitting here and staring at him while he slept.

Decision made, she pushed herself to her feet.

“Where you headed?” Aiden mumbled, before she’d even taken that first step away from the chair.

He hadn’t bothered to lift the makeshift icepack from his mouth, but the question was clearly audible anyway.

“I thought I’d take care of some chores while you slept.”

“I’m not asleep,” he said, reaching up to rescue the icepack that was slipping off his mouth.

She shrugged. “Then while you rest.”

He opened the eye that wasn’t covered by the vegetable pack he’d slapped across his cheek and pinned her with an intense black gaze. “I told you I’d take you to pick up your car.”

“Yes, you did.” Demi cocked her head and stared at him with determination. “However, you obviously need the rest and more time with the ice.”

He plucked the white plastic bags off his face, and gingerly sat up before swinging his legs over the side of the couch. “These need to go back in the freezer anyway. The vegetables are melting.” He grunted softly as he stood up. “Look, just point me to the shower, give me ten minutes to soak, and I’ll run you over to get your car.”

She frowned as she studied him. His face actually looked worse after the icing. The cold had turned patches of his skin an angry red, but beneath the crimson she could see the mottled shadow of early bruising. And from the care with which he’d sat and then stood, his torso was also feeling the effect of being mistaken for a punching bag.

“Shouldn’t you ice the bruising on your torso and abdomen rather than soaking in hot water? Won’t the heat make the bruises worse?” She stepped closer, and inched aside the ripped shirt to get a look at his chest and abdomen.

The bruises there were much more pronounced than the ones on his face. Maybe the icing had helped after all…or maybe there was more going on with his torso than simple bruising. “Are you sure you didn’t crack a rib or something? Maybe you should see a doctor?”

“This is nothing compared to a cracked rib.” His dark eyes softened as they stared steadily back at her. “Trust me; I’ve survived much worse.”

Demi swallowed hard. She didn’t doubt that for a moment. He was in a pretty high-risk profession. Not just high-risk for injuries, but high-risk for death. That risk was one of the reasons she needed to keep her libido separate from her emotions when it came to him.

A no strings, no emotions, lots-of-sex relationship…that’s what she was looking for.

She flashed back to his earlier hint of possessiveness in the elevator. And the anger he’d displayed at the thought of Brett taking her home. They needed to have a discussion about where things were headed before they let this progress any further.

“You could join me in the shower,” he said, a wicked gleam sliding through his eyes. “I’ll even let you wash my…” He lifted and waggled his eyebrows at her. “…back. I promise to return the favor.”

Except his gaze dropped to her chest, a silent admission of where he was imagining washing.

With a roll of her eyes, Demi stepped away. Somehow, showering with a man always ended with squeaky clean boobs.

“And here I thought you’d be more imaginative,” she said dryly. “I can wash my breasts myself, thank you very much.”

“I didn’t say I was going to stop there.” Aiden’s voice was equally dry as he slowly slid his gaze down her body, the glitter in his eyes growing more pronounced by the second. He stopped when he reached her hips and a hungry expression touched his face.

To Demi’s surprise, a tingle swept her spine and damp warmth pooled between her thighs. She snorted in disbelief. Her libido was beyond desperate, if that slow perusal had turned it on.

“I’m betting you’re no more up for shower games than below the belt games,” Demi retorted, but she couldn’t stop the smile from escaping. The man was certainly determined, she’d give him that.

“Trust me,” he said with a slow, suggestive grin. “I’m completely
up
for either.”

Well, you certainly walked into that one
.

She swallowed a smirk. Of course he’d made it impossible not to check out his self-proclaimed state of
“upness”.
She didn’t even bother fighting the impulse to drop her gaze. Instead, she narrowed her eyes, tilted her head, and pasted an assessing expression on her face as she zeroed in on his crotch.

Oh my…

She barely caught herself from fanning her face with her fingers. “That’s some pretty aggressive swelling you got going on…” She raised her head, keeping her face as deadpan as possible. “Perhaps some ice might be helpful down there?”

His laugh caught on a wince and he touched a finger to his bottom lip.

“I doubt ice will do a damn thing. The little bastard has no common sense.” With an exaggerated sigh, he dropped his arm. “Fine, if you won’t
help
me in the shower, could you at least help me get undressed?” He held up his right hand, with its swollen, scrapped knuckles. “I can barely bend my fingers.”

Impressive…
Demi bit back a laugh. He’d actually managed to make himself look pathetic and helpless—or at least as helpless as a six-foot-plus combat warrior in prime physical condition could look.

“You have
two
hands,” she reminded him, chewing on the inside of her lip to stop the giggle from escaping.

She’d forgotten how much fun it was to engage in sexual repartee. Donnie, bless him, used to get so flustered and red-faced, she’d given up on such banter. It had felt cruel to toss sexual innuendoes at him when they made him so uncomfortable.

“But I’m right handed,” he told her with a totally straight face.

She knew for a fact the man was ambidextrous. Kait had told her he’d trained as stringently with his left hand as his right, and could wield a knife or a gun with equal accuracy no matter which hand he used. He was perfectly capable of undressing right or left handed. Not that she was going to let on that she knew his little secret…

“Oh…well…in that case.” She deliberately licked her lips and sidled toward him, her hand rising toward his pelvis.

She trailed her fingers lightly up the bulge in his crotch—which was increasing by the second—on her way to his belt.

It had been a long time since she’d flirted so aggressively with a man. But the circumstances were perfect for it. Regardless of how sexually suggestive the teasing got, he wasn’t in any condition to actually act on it. And even if he could perform as promised, he wouldn’t push past her comfort zone. She was absolutely certain of that. He may have tossed the first innuendo out there, but he’d waited for her reaction before continuing with the verbal foreplay. With every step deeper into intimacy, he assessed her reaction, and waited for her to accept his overtures.

She could get her feet wet in this new and exciting territory and give her confidence a boost without fearing she’d be dragged into a situation she wasn’t ready for. The freedom to say what she wanted without worry was a heady rush.

“We should take this to your bedroom,” he said, the hungry glitter from earlier exploding full force in his eyes. “That’s where your shower is, right?”

Like he was actually thinking about the shower, rather than her bed.

“There’s a guest shower right through that door.” She nodded to the left.

She shuffled closer to him, so close she could feel the heat his big body shed, and the hot, musky scent of arousal surrounded her. Her fingers trembled slightly as they fumbled with his belt buckle.

The first time her fingers brushed his bare belly was unintentional. His muscles bunched at the accidental caress and a groan broke from him. He sounded as though he were in pain, except there were no bruises that low on his torso. She glanced at his face and caught an expression of such sensuality there was no doubt that what he was experiencing had nothing to do with his injuries, and everything to do with her touch.

Delighted with that discovery, she deliberately feathered the tips of her fingers across the hard plane of his belly as she slipped the strap out of the buckle and released the steel pin holding it in place. His big body quivered with each brush of her hand.

The fact that she could make such a gorgeous specimen of manhood quiver and quake with the mere brush of her fingertips may have gone to her head. Okay, it definitely went to her head. So did his hot, musky scent and the feel of his smooth, taut skin beneath her hands—so warm and tight and responsive.

She hadn’t intended to continue the teasing past unbuckling his belt, but found herself caught in the web of sensuality right alongside him. Lord, if he felt this good right here, right now, with just the brush of bare skin on bare skin, what would it feel like to have him completely naked, on top of her? Inside her? She wanted to find out.

Continuing the slow, teasing glide of her fingers across his lower belly, she unbuttoned the top button of his jeans. He caught his breath and froze as she reached for the zipper.

The room was quiet, broken only by their increasingly thick breathing and the hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. The silence seemed to cinch in around them, drawing them closer, amplifying the sensual heat and the building anticipation.

Until her doorbell pealed.

She jumped at the interruption, and the spell shattered.

“Son of a bitch.” His voice was both guttural and clipped. “Ignore it.”

She stepped back to give herself some breathing room, space that wasn’t steeped in his scent and the heat from his big body. Slowly her head cleared.

“It’s probably Kait,” he said, swearing beneath his breath as the buzzer sounded again. “She’s always had the most God-awful timing.” He sounded disgusted.

She took a deep breath and some of the sexual urgency faded. “I won’t tell her you’re here, but I am not going to hide from her, either.”

He scowled, but held his tongue as Demi headed for the door.

Before unlocking the deadbolt she checked the peep hole. A long thin face with a sandy thatch of sparse hair blinked back at her.

Slowly she pulled away. “Well, the good news is it isn’t Kait.”

“The bad news?” Aiden asked from directly behind her.

She started and spun around. Good God, the man moved like a cat.

“No bad news. It’s just Chester. The guy you blocked from getting in the elevator.”

An irritated look flickered across his face. “He can’t take a hint?”

Demi snorted and shook her head with a tsk-tsk. “You mean telling him the elevator was occupied and shutting the door in his face? That’s not a hint, that’s bad manners.” She turned back to the door and reached for the deadbolt. “Besides, he’s probably just checking up on me, making sure I’m okay.” She shot him a pointed glance from over her shoulder. “That’s what good neighbors do.”

Aiden muttered something behind her, but she couldn’t make out what it was. Which was undoubtedly a good thing. It hadn’t sounded complimentary.

“Chester,” she said, smiling brightly as she opened the door. “What a nice surprise.” Aiden muttered something beneath his breath again and Demi smiled even brighter. “You remember Aiden from the elevator.”

Chester craned his neck to look over her shoulder and blinked a couple of times. His Adam’s apple wobbled as he cleared his throat. “Sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to make sure you were all right. It looked like the elevator got stuck between floors for a while.” His voice trailed off as he glared at the man behind her. “I called building maintenance. I’m sure they’ll rectify the problem.”

Unlikely, since the
problem
was standing directly behind her, bristling with impatience.

“That’s so kind of you,” Demi said, ignoring the derisive snort rising behind her. “And yes, that elevator incident was disconcerting.”

Apparently, that was all the chit chat Aiden could tolerate, because he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and deliberately drew her flush against his torso.

“As you can see, she’s
fine,
” Aiden said, his voice both flat and cold. “She’s also busy, so you’ll have to excuse us.”

Before Demi could prevent him, he grabbed the edge of the door and swung it shut.

“Aiden!” Demi drove an elbow into his abdomen.

A choked groan sounded behind her and she had an instant of regret. She must have hit one of those ugly bruises. But then irritation swelled again—served him right. That uncalled for display of possessiveness was exactly why she needed to sit him down and have a talk with him before these fireworks zipping between them drove them into the bedroom.

“Okay, mister,” she snapped, swinging around. She jabbed her forefinger into an unbruised spot on his chest for emphasis. “We need to have a talk before this goes any further.”

Chapter Six

We need to have a talk.

With Demi’s threat ringing in his ears, Aiden took a cautious step back and regrouped. Any male past puberty knew that those were fighting words, the forerunner to an argument. The smart man tread carefully. Or evaded completely, if possible.