Protected by a SEAL (Alpha SEALs, Book 6) (7 page)

Ella eyed him skeptically. She looked
fucking gorgeous in the moonlight, all smooth, ivory skin with that
dark hair swirling around her bare shoulders. Like a dessert he
desperately wanted to sample.

“I owe you a ride,” he insisted.

“How do you figure that?”

“You gave us a ride back to our hotel in
Pensacola. I’m returning the favor.”

She shook her head. “That’s hardly the same
thing. You guys walked me to my car that night. Anyway, I don’t
really have the extra cash.”

“It’s on me,” he insisted, placing his hand
at the small of her back as he guided her away from the others.
“Catch you tomorrow, Gator,” he said, glancing back at Matthew.
“Brianna,” he added with a nod. Ella said goodbye to her friend and
shivered slightly in the cooler night air. Feeling chivalrous,
Brent shucked off his black leather jacket, draping it over her
slender shoulders. She glanced up at him in surprise, and he met
her gaze. “You looked cold,” he said, his voice gruff.

Brent ignored Matthew and Brianna gawking
behind them.

Hell.

Had he bought a woman dinner…ever? Probably
not. Drinks? Check. Condoms? Double check. But an actual meal? Not
fucking likely. Then again, did a late-night pizza actually count
as dinner? He didn’t like the fact that he hadn’t seen Ella eat a
damn thing all night. Brianna hadn’t seemed too worried, but hell.
She and Matthew were so wrapped up in each other they wouldn’t
notice a meteor crashing through the ceiling. And he wasn’t about
to ask her about Ella’s eating habits or financial situation.

He pulled open the door, feeling his skin
prickle with awareness as she slid by him. She stiffened slightly,
evidently feeling the chemistry between them, too.

Shit.

Staying away from her by taking her out for
pizza was already starting to seem like a bad idea. As was driving
her home on his Harley, when she’d have no choice but to wrap her
slender frame around his body. Her breasts would be pressed against
his back. Her legs snug against his. The heat from her core would
be right against him.

He muttered a curse.

Remaining a few steps behind her, he let
Ella lead the way in. The curve of her ass in those jeans was damn
near perfection, and he tried not to imagine what type of panties
she was wearing. Bikini? Thong? She’d look gorgeous in anything.
Everything. Nothing at all.

“Order whatever you want,” he said, coming
to a stop beside her.

Her silky hair inadvertently brushed against
his bicep as she glanced up at the menu, and his jaw tightened. Why
did that innocent little touch arouse him more than all the women
who’d been hitting on him earlier at Anchors? Ella fully clothed
managed to be sexier than all those other women combined.

“I got it,” he insisted after she ordered a
cheese pizza. “How much?” he asked the young cashier.

Ella huffed out a chagrined laugh. “Look,
you really don’t have to buy me dinner. I’m perfectly capable of
paying for it.”

“You’re in college; I get hazard duty pay
for all the shit places the Navy sends me. It’s one pizza.”

“You don’t need—”

“I’m hungry, and I’m not letting a woman pay
for my food.”

“Whatever,” she finally agreed, stuffing her
wallet back into her bag.

Brent smirked but didn’t say anything.
Although he didn’t exactly expect her to profess her undying
gratitude, a simple ‘thank you’ would’ve sufficed. Hell, most of
the women he spent time with would probably be dropping their
panties for him by now. Ripping his clothes right off. And he was
ushering Ella into a pizzeria like they were on a fucking date or
something.

Unable to resist touching her, Brent rested
his hand on the small of her back again, guiding her toward a booth
in the back. He shot a glare at some young college guys staring at
her, and they looked away quickly. A strange sort of masculine
pride filled his chest at Ella wearing his leather jacket. Hell if
he wouldn’t love to see her in that and nothing else.

Scratch that.

Maybe his jacket over some sexy little
lingerie. Strutting around his living room.

Nothing wrong with a little leather and
lace.

Not that Ella seemed to be the type to do
what anyone asked. If a man gave her lingerie, she’d probably laugh
and toss it aside. She was young and independent. She didn’t fawn
over him like the types of women he usually spent time with. Didn’t
beg him to take her home. And who was he kidding? He sure as hell
wouldn’t ever be seeing what she had on under that little tank top
and jeans.

Fucking shame, really.

His hands rose to the jacket collar, and he
allowed his fingers to slide across her silky skin as he helped her
out of it. His cock strained against his jeans as she shivered at
his touch. He had a damn perfect view as he looked down at the
swell of her cleavage as he stood behind her. That little pendant
still dangled tantalizingly between her breasts. The barest hint of
a lacy bra edged out. He lightly touched her back again, just
because he could, and heard her intake of breath.

“Why’d you come here with me?” he asked, his
voice low.

Hell, if they weren’t in the middle of the
restaurant, he’d want to trace his fingers down the column of her
neck. Lightly caress her bare shoulder. Graze his fingertips across
her collarbone, and then down lower, between her breasts. Just to
watch her shiver.

Ella let out a small laugh. “You didn’t
really give me a choice, did you?”

“No, I sure the hell didn’t.”

He ducked lower, so that his lips
practically grazed her ear. His arm snaked around her waist,
pulling her closer. She’d been too damn tempting all night. Despite
his assertions to stay away, he wasn’t sure how much longer he
could resist. Didn’t think that he wanted to.

“I love holding you close,” he said, his
voice gruff. “Seeing that hint of pink wash over your skin. It
makes me wonder if that’s what you’d look like in bed. Crying out
my name.”

“Brent,” she murmured, shifting against
him.

“Just like that,” he agreed. “I wish we
weren’t in this damn pizzeria. I’d slowly strip off your clothes.
Kiss my way down your gorgeous body. Lick you for hours. Have you
moaning and begging beneath me.”

She gasped, arching back just like he’d
wanted, and he released her, reluctantly stepping away.

“Matthew said he’d bust my balls for
touching you. Just might be worth it though.”

Ella shifted in her seat as she tried to
figure out Brent’s game. He’d ignored all of them at Anchors
earlier, not even glancing her way. Just drinking alone at the bar
until some of the other guys had joined him. Then at the pool hall?
He’d flirted with her. Relentlessly. Maybe no one else noticed how
he stood too close, crowded her space, or lightly touched her
whenever he had the chance. Maybe no one else saw the blistering
gazes he’d shot her way.

But at the moment? She was about to go up in
flames.

Holy hell.

The man certainly knew what he wanted. And
wasn’t afraid to spell it out. In full detail. But she wasn’t about
to become another woman who simply fell into his bed. No matter how
freaking gorgeous he was. Or how he’d made her feel safe back in
Florida when no one else could.

“You’re thinking too much,” he said,
stretching his arm across the back of the booth. Those taut muscles
bunched, creating interesting dips and curves along the line of his
arm. Her eyes were drawn to his thick fingers drumming on the back
of the seat.

“What makes you say that?”

“Because you’re there,” he said, pointing
across the booth, “and I’m here.”

Ella laughed. “I suppose you usually have
women crawling all over you? I didn’t see you talk to another woman
all night.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Didn’t realize you
were keeping score.”

She flushed, realizing what she’d admitted.
That she’d been watching him. All. Night.

His icy blue gaze flickered with amusement.
“Just for the record? I’ve never taken a woman out to dinner
before. Ever.”

A feeling of satisfaction moved through her.
So what if he was a relentless flirt? Maybe he liked the challenge,
the thrill of the chase.

But maybe she’d love to be caught.

Her phone buzzed in her purse, and Ella
regretted that she’d turned it back on. She frowned, expecting
another nastygram from Frank. That man had been harassing her all
evening, ruining what should have been an otherwise fun night. A
smile tugged at the corner of her mouth when she read the text from
Brianna.

Let us know if we need to come get you.

“Let me guess. Another text from your
mystery man.”

Ella raised her eyebrows. “Sorry to
disappoint, but there’s no secret boyfriend. Just Brianna asking if
they needed to come rescue me.”

“From?”

“You, apparently.”

Brent chuckled. “Brianna’s smart enough to
know you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want to be. I can be
forward, but I’d never do anything you don’t want. Say the word and
we’ll go. Besides, like I said, Matthew told me to stay away from
you.”

“So you thought you’d buy me pizza?”

“There’s nothing wrong with pizza.”

“Uh-huh.”

“So I’m attracted to you,” he said, his eyes
sparking. “Doesn’t mean I can’t keep my hands to myself.”

“Is that what you were doing earlier?”

His icy blue gaze flicked to hers, heat
filling them. “You didn’t seem to mind, sweetheart. And I didn’t
even get to the good part yet.”

“Brent,” she said, flushing.

“Hell. I fucking love the way my name sounds
on your lips. It’s a damn shame you live down in Florida, because
one night with you would never be enough.”

“I’m not sleeping with you.”

“I know. Like I said—one night wouldn’t be
enough. For either of us.”

Ella laughed. “You seem awfully sure of
yourself.”

“That’s a good thing, sweetheart.”

***

Brent’s eyes roamed over Ella again. He had
to get his brain back on track before he dragged her out of the
restaurant right now. Kissed her on the sidewalk. Backed her
against the brick wall of the building. Made her cry out his name
right there in the dark.

“When do you fly back to Florida?” he
finally asked.

“Tomorrow.”

Brent raised his eyebrows.

“I need a job. I still have a year of
college left to pay tuition for,” she said, taking a sip of her
soda. He nodded, trying not to watch the way her pink lips pursed
around the straw as she took another sip of her drink. The subtle,
innocent action was driving him crazy as he imaged all the ways
that mouth could move over him. He wanted Ella’s mouth everywhere.
His lips. His chest. His dick.

Hell. Just the thought of her wrapping that
mouth around his cock could fuel his fantasies all night.

Brent cleared his throat, trying to pay
attention to the conversation at hand. Trying to think of anything
else.

Ella shrugged, and Brent realized he’d
missed half of what she’d said.

“What are you majoring in?”

“Finance. Ironic, right? But you need money
to make money.”

Brent’s gaze softened. Hell. Lots of women
her age would be out partying on their time off from school,
chasing after the frat boys or something. Doing shots and dancing
on bars. Having fun with friends. He had to respect the fact that
she wanted to support herself. That she was paying her way through
school. Not that he approved of her last job choice. Brianna had
told Matthew the cocktail lounge paid well, but their safety
should’ve been their first priority. Nothing was worth putting
yourself in jeopardy like that.

“Your parents can’t help you out?”

A shadow crossed her face. “They’re not
alive anymore,” she said softly. A loud group walked in, and she
briefly glanced over to the door, blinking back the wetness in her
eyes. Brent’s chest clenched as she swallowed.

Shit. Way to make him feel like the biggest
jerk on Earth. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. Hell. There wasn’t
much else to say to a bombshell like that.

“Car accident.” She didn’t elaborate on what
had happened, but Brent respected that. The last thing he wanted to
do was explain the circumstances of his sister’s death when the
subject came up. That shit was just too damn sad.

“There’s got to be other jobs down there,”
he said, realization suddenly dawning on him that she really was
all alone. “What about something on campus?”

“There’s jobs,” she agreed. “They just don’t
pay as well. That was sort of the reason I ended up serving drinks
in the first place.”

His gaze darkened. “You haven’t been back
there, have you?”

Innocent blue eyes flicked over to him, and
a hint of a blush spread across her cheeks. “To the cocktail
lounge? Just to get my paycheck. Frank didn’t want to pay me for
not giving him any notice.”

“Damn it, you shouldn’t go there alone. Not
after what happened.” Images of Brianna crying in the back hallway
flashed through his mind. Matthew had looked ready to murder that
asshole who’d attacked her, and Brent had a feeling he would’ve if
he hadn’t been trying to console Brianna. And if the other guys
hadn’t been there to deal with him.

Ella shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “I
needed the money, and Frank didn’t want to give me my last
paycheck. Brianna and I worked there for a while without any
problems.”

“Hell, I wish I’d known. I’d have gone there
myself,” Brent muttered. “Given that prick a piece of my mind.”

“You can’t fly down to Florida every time I
need help,” Ella said.

“I would’ve. That guy was a jackass.”

Ella looked somewhat taken aback. “You know
what? You’re different than everyone thinks.”

“Everyone being who?” he asked, raising an
eyebrow.