Page 25 of Covert Temptation (SEAL Team Blackout Charlie #4)

D ante’s cock was still hard.

Even with the cold slap of reality that came in the form of a knock at the door and forty dollars of mid-rate Mexican food, his body hadn’t switched gears.

He could still feel Kennedy’s mouth on his, taste her lips, feel her thighs caging him in. Her perfume lingered on his shirt like a damn brand. Sweet, addictive…and entirely unhelpful.

But it was just as well that they were interrupted.

He had work to do. The hands on the clock were circling far too quickly. Time had started shrinking.

Everything was coming to a head faster than expected. The more they uncovered, the clearer it became that they weren’t chasing a lukewarm lead anymore. They were racing down a hot trail.

Dante sat at the desk, fingers flying across the keyboard of the CIA database accessed through the set of credentials he’d received. The deeper he dug, slipping past firewalls into the skeleton of the system—the more he realized just how wrong this setup was.

When he found it, he didn’t know what he was looking at upon first glance. Then he sat back in his seat, shock rippling up and down his spine like ice.

A back door. Into the CIA’s database.

One so buried in the software not even their top software architect ever found it.

Until now.

Dante keyed in a string of commands, and the interface shifted. The moment things snapped into place, his phone buzzed with another interruption, but this one more welcome than the one that took Kennedy out of his arms.

He stared at the name of his teammate, Hudson Steele, a beat longer than he should have.

Earlier, before Kennedy had climbed into his lap and torched every coherent thought he had, Steele had called to warn him that fresh intel was incoming.

Something that couldn’t be sent electronically. Something that needed context.

He answered. “Talk to me.”

His buddy’s voice was deep with a distinct drawl—Dante would pick out his unhurried manner of speaking anywhere.

“It’s about two guys from Echo.”

His rib cage felt like it flexed at the name of the team. A whole platoon of men wiped out in one horrific helicopter crash.

“What do you mean by two guys?” he asked Steele.

“Remember Chase told us that day that one of his teammates was on leave at the time of the chopper crash?”

“Yes.”

“There was another man on Echo who escaped.”

“Jesus Christ.”

Steele’s syrupy Southern drawl came faster now. “At the time of the crash, he was already out of Blackout—released on medical. But both men were in Syria guarding Alyssa during hostage negotiations.”

Dante pinched the bridge of his nose. “We know what happened to the first special operative—he was in a car accident while on leave. What happened to the other?”

Kennedy had stopped writing on the whiteboard, marker hovering. Her blonde hair swung forward, partially concealing her face, but Dante sensed her watching him.

Steele paused. “He was killed in a so-called hunting accident in Kentucky. Bullet to the back.”

“Jesus. What medical examiner ruled that an accident ?”

Kennedy dropped the marker and straightened to face him, her espresso eyes wide and fixed on Dante.

“Clearly it’s some sort of cover-up,” Steele responded.

Dante scrubbed a hand over his face. The pressure building in his chest wasn’t fear anymore. It was fury . For his brothers who died.

“So he was after all of Echo team, plus anyone who was there. Anyone who might remember something. Anyone who could have been the reason his mother died in the explosion.”

“Like Alyssa,” he confirmed.

Dante nodded slowly to himself. Now that he had this information, he knew what to do. “I’ll dig. Thanks, brother.”

“Stay sharp, Mainframe.”

Call ended, Dante sat in the throbbing silence, his jaw locked tight. He missed the noise of his team, the shared goals, the endless comms chatter that always made him feel like part of something unbreakable, even if he wasn’t in the thick of it with them.

Quickly, he hurried to close the back door so no other security breaches could take place.

He glanced up to meet Kennedy’s steady gaze.

Here, it was just him and the woman in the kitchen who had the power to turn him inside out with one look.

And he sure as hell wouldn’t trust her life in anyone else’s hands.

He felt himself rock with the force of the thought that landed harder than expected.

“Tell me what I can do.” Her soft tone stroked over him like a caress, a supportive touch he’d never had before.

Dante refocused. “Hand me the marker.”

She did, her fingers brushing his. He couldn’t help it—he leaned in close to her, breathing in the scent of her, and pressed a tender kiss between her puckered brows.

She seemed to relax and when they drew apart, they were both ready to work harder.

As he laid it all out on the whiteboard, drawing lines connecting the events to Echo team and adding to the timeline, he explained everything to Kennedy. She was silent as he talked, her face solemn and slightly paler than it had been an hour before.

When he finished writing it all down, he took out his phone, snapped a photo of the board and sent it to Con.

The phone rang again. This time, Con’s voice filled Dante’s ear.

“Nice timeline,” his commanding officer said dryly. “I see you had help.”

Dante grunted. “How do you know that?”

“The i’s are dotted with hearts, man.”

Dante looked harder at the board, then laughed despite himself. “What can I say? Kennedy’s organized as hell. I let her work her magic.”

Kennedy beamed at him, and he returned the smile, feeling that stirring low in his gut again.

“We were expecting this, you know.” Con’s statement redirected his attention.

“Expecting what?”

“You. Her. This. You felt strongly about her from the start. Anger like that doesn’t come from nothing. That kind of heat? It turns into something else if you’re not careful.”

Dante stared at Kennedy and— God help him —he saw the truth of Con’s words.

“Can’t help it.”

Con groaned. “And so it begins. Good thing she’s innocent.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“I wasn’t sure until now. You don’t trust anyone easily, Dante. If you trust Kennedy, then she’s innocent.”

The force of those words trickled over him like a soothing balm. It meant so much, hearing this from his commanding officer. It meant that he was just as much a point man making calls as anyone on the team. The guys trusted his word on this investigation.

“Do not pull a Denver on us. Charlie needs you too damn much,” Con said.

Dante smirked. “Denver left on medical. Don’t you mean pulling a Con ?

You got the girl. She stuck around. Same with Henner and May, and Chase and Alyssa.

Seems like it works for the team.” He gave Kennedy a slow, deliberate once-over, from her painted toes to her hair, still mussed from their brief and explosive make-out session.

A pink flush made her skin glow, and the soft smile she gave him in return told him everything he needed to know.

Tonight, she would be in his bed.

* * * * *

Dante backed Kennedy into the wall with a low growl, the sound rumbling through his chest and straight into her. His mouth was drawn to hers like it couldn’t get enough, and neither could hers.

Their lips collided with no hesitation, no patience. Just fire. Picking up where they left off before dinner arrived, he skimmed her sides, dragging her sweater up until his fingers found bare skin.

She shivered at the contact and moaned as his tongue swept into her mouth, demanding, tasting, claiming. Kennedy let herself melt against him, wrapping her arms tight around his shoulders as if she could anchor herself to the storm he stirred inside her.

With every passing second, more stripped away.

He kissed her like he was starving—like her mouth was his first breath of air after being underwater for too long.

She responded in kind, meeting his rhythm, gasping when he lifted her onto her toes, grinding her body to his like he couldn’t bear an inch between them.

One hand tangled in her hair, angling her lips to plunge deeper. The other hand gripped her hip with bruising intensity. Her moan vibrated against his mouth, and he swallowed it like it was the only sound he ever wanted to hear again.

When his teeth grazed her lower lip and he caught it in a soft bite, she whimpered and arched into him, clawing into his back through his shirt. His kisses grew messier, harder—plundering her mouth with so much desperation it left her dizzy.

Every stroke of his tongue sent her pulse soaring. The way he moved against her, the heat in his touch, the groan he let out when her leg hitched around his hip—it was all wild. Unstoppable.

He pressed into her, thigh between her legs, and kissed his way down her jaw to her throat.

His stubble scraped over sensitive skin and her head fell back with a shuddering breath.

Her fingers dug into his arms, holding on as he dragged his mouth back up to hers, stealing another kiss, then another.

His hands were everywhere—her waist, her back, skimming up her ribs, teasing at the edge of her bra. And God, she wanted more.

She wanted all of him.

Then she pulled back, breathless and flushed, her lips swollen from his kisses. She pressed her hands lightly to his chest—not to push him away, just to pause him.

“Wait.” Her breath caught. “I have something to show you.” Before he could drag her back or protest, she slipped from his arms and padded away down the hall, tossing a playful smile over her shoulder. “Don’t go anywhere. You’re gonna like this.”

As she closed her bedroom door, her heart pounded with excitement, and her hands tremored with nerves as she quickly opened the package she left at the foot of her bed.

When she pulled out the garment, satin and lace spilled into her fingers. The deep red hue was one of her favorites, and she had a few items in her wardrobe of this color…but nothing for the bedroom.