Sexy SEAL Box Set: A SEAL's Seduction\A SEAL's Surrender\A SEAL's Salvation\A SEAL's Kiss (50 page)

“Why am I here?” she repeated, clearly buying time as she wet her lips and took a nervous breath. The move sent the ruffles of her halter fluttering in a way Brody had no business noticing. “I’m here because of a dare.”

Figured
. Brody crossed his arms over his chest.

“You’re here to use me?”

Her lower lip dropped, then jutted out in a pout. He didn’t figure she had the experience to realize just how freaking sexy that move was.

He did, though.

His rapidly hardening dick echoed its agreement.

“I wouldn’t use you.”

“No? So you came in here to talk to the bad boy of Bedford because you were craving my scintillating conversation?”

She started to giggle, then pressed her lips together, her face so amused she looked as if she were going to burst at any second.

“What?” he prodded with a growl.

“You said scintillating.”

“Yeah? So? I know how to read, too.” Damn, he hated this town. Everyone—even the sexy wannabe seductress in front of him—thought they had him so figured out. Labeled and dismissed, they never looked past his last name.

Hell, Genna’s own brother, Joe, was way worse than Brody when it came to trouble. But people looked at his Harley, a brand-new, off-the-showroom-floor graduation gift, and smiled. They looked at Brody’s, bought after years of scrubbing dishes in the back of the bar, pumping gas and wrenching at Lou’s Garage, and saw trouble.

“I didn’t mean to suggest you were stupid,” Genna said with honest bluntness, her expression somewhere between indignant and horrified. “I just think it’s a funny word.”

“Right.”

“I do. Like grandiose.” Brody grinned at the way she seemed to relish the word, drawing it out in a tone worthy of a royal princess.

“You like things really big?” he mused before he could stop himself.

Her eyes lit, the worry leaving her face and her smile returning like a ray of sunlight. It made him want to smile back. Almost.

“Participle?” She offered the word like a hostess offering a drink. As if inviting him to indulge.

“Does it dangle?”

Her laugh gurgled out, about the lightest, happiest sound 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

G
ENNA
’
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 Stanford combined, Genna took a deep breath to calm the dragons dancing in her stomach and leaned back a little. Not enough to put any real distance between her and Brody. Definitely not enough to give him the silly idea that they might be done here. But enough for her to reach up, sliding her hands under the heavy curtain of her hair. Her fingers quickly picked apart the bow tying her halter behind her neck.

His eyes wide and worried, Brody shook his head as if he could deny what she was about to do. But he didn’t stop her. Instead, his gaze dropped, watching first her hands, and then the fabric of her blouse, drop to her waist.

Genna bit her lip to stop their trembling.

And waited.

His eyes weren’t worried now. They were hot. Hot and intense and greedy.

His lids lowered, but didn’t hide the sensual gleam. She could see the pulse beating, fast and furious, in his throat. He looked as if he could eat her up in one big, juicy bite.

So why didn’t he?

She’d heard that sexual frustration was a bad thing, but she didn’t think it was supposed to come with a big fat dose of anger.

Wasn’t he supposed to do
something?
Be so overcome by lust that he grabbed her and took all the choices and moves and decisions out of her hands? That’s how it happened in all the books. Clearly, he needed to read more.

“If you don’t do something, I’m gonna kick you,” she told him through gritted teeth.

“Baby, this is wrong.”

Genna melted. The way he said baby, sort of low and growly, was so sexy and sweet.

“Then show me how to do it right.”

He gave a laughing sort of groan. It was the first time she’d seen him laugh, she realized. The first time she’d been close enough to watch how it made his eyes light, his face look younger. Softer.

Sweeter.

“Don’t you want to touch me?” Taking his hand in hers, she lifted it to her bare breast. His palm was like fire on her skin. Her nipple tightened to an aching point, shooting a swirling shaft of desire straight down to settle between her thighs.

His pupils were so big, they made his eyes look pitch-black. His face was sharp in the shadows. She swallowed hard, wanting to ask if it felt as good to him as it did to her, but afraid to say a word.

Then he stepped closer. His body, hot and damp in the sultry night air, heated hers. A bead of sweat trickled down Genna’s spine.

Eyes huge, nervous, she watched and waited.

As if he was moving in slow motion, Brody leaned forward, his hair sweeping down to curtain his face in black silk. It was so soft as it slid against her skin. Then he took her nipple into his mouth.

Hot and wet.

His lips brushed, his tongue swirled. Then he scraped the edge of his teeth over the aching bud.

Genna cried out, her fingers clutching his shoulders.

Brody sucked harder, his long, sure fingers pressed against the seam of her jeans. Need unlike anything she’d ever felt, more than anything she’d ever imagined, gripped her. Not sure what she was doing, how to quench the tightening demand of her body, Genna swiveled her hips in slow circles against his hand. Her fingers dug into the waistband of his jeans. Then, desperate to feel him, even as she hoped he’d take it as a hint to do the same, she unsnapped his jeans.

Lightning fast, Brody’s hand grabbed hers and his head shot up.

It was like being speared by gold light, his eyes were so fierce. Nerves joined desire to swirl in an uncomfortable dance in her belly.

Genna bit her lip, waiting.

Was he going to stop?

Did she want him to?

Before she could decide, before she could even identify all the feelings bombarding her, he swept her into his arms.

Oh, God. Genna melted, body, heart and all, as he carried her three steps to an old bench-style car seat leaning against the wall.

It was so romantic.

They fell together onto the ratty black surface, with her on Brody’s lap. He immediately rolled so she was underneath him. His mouth took hers again. This time it was harder. More demanding. He wouldn’t let her play passive. He wanted everything she had to offer.

As soon as her tongue ventured out, sliding into his mouth, he rewarded her by cupping his hand over her bare breast again.

She flew higher. His fingers plucked at her nipple. She swirled, stars crowding the edges of her vision. She mewed in protest when his hand left her breast, then purred as it cruised down to her jeans. Her heart stopped, waiting for him to unsnap the denim.

He slipped right past the zipper though, again, pressing tight against her aching core through her pants. The heel of his hand rotated and his nails scraped.

Breath ragged, Genna tried to figure out what was happening to her body. It kept getting tighter and tighter, curling around and around, spinning out of control.