Page 34 of Stranded with the SEAL

She hit the shower curtain. “You know what I mean.”

“Yes, I do.”

She sighed. “Move your feet. I don’t want to burn you.” She dumped the water in, the most delicious warmth spreading through the tub, and he moaned with pleasure.

“You could join me,” he said, his voice husky.

He could see her hand trail down the curtain, feel it as if it were touching his skin, then she turned and left the room, closing the door behind her.

So much for getting rid of his hard-on.

His hand closed around his shaft and he squeezed his cock tightly, then stroked it up and down. What would she feel like, her wet heat surrounding him?

A hell of a lot better than this, loser.

He sat up abruptly and splashed water on his face, then cleaned his body with punishing strokes. She had him acting like a horny teenager, and he wasn’t enjoying the transition back in time. He hoisted himself up and out of the tub, pulled a towel around his waist and limped to the bedroom to get dressed.

When he made his way back to the living room, he froze. She was sleeping on one sofa, and the other had been made up for him. His disappointment was acute. He moved closer, all but certain she was pretending, but her breathing was deep and she really appeared to be sleeping.

He couldn’t help but smile when he realized she was wearing several layers of clothing, including a trench coat.

Maybe it was for the best.

He tugged on a pair of boots and put on a coat, then grabbed his knife and headed out the door to do one last patrol before sleeping. The moon was shining brightly behind light cloud cover, enabling him to see quite well as he made his way around the property.

Back inside, he sat on the couch she’d readied for him, staring at her sleeping form. She had so many layers on, while he wore only a pair of sweat pants from the drawer. Of course, he knew he had no reason to be cold when Olivia was here, separate beds be damned.

He stood and moved to her, climbing over her legs and squeezing between her back and the sofa cushions, then spread his blanket over them both and tucked his arm around her middle possessively.

He could tell the moment she woke up, her lax muscles tightening with apprehension, but she didn’t speak for several minutes.

“Is there something wrong with your bed?” she asked.

“You aren’t in it.”

The rhythm of her breathing quickened beneath his arm.

Olivia’s arm snaked out from under the covers and she laced her fingers with his, pulling his arm more tightly around her as she shifted and placing her bottom snugly against him, driving him wild.

His face was in her hair and he nuzzled her neck before he could stop himself, his lips gently grazing her shoulder. She moaned, and he pulled her tightly to him.

“I’m sorry I made you angry,” he whispered.

“Me, too.”

He could make love to her just like that, let his hand that was already pressed against her chest wander to her breast, strip her of all those ridiculous clothes like he was unwrapping a present. Already she was pressing against his erection, her gentle motion a clear invitation.

Or was it? Did she know what she was doing to him?

He kissed her warm neck, the soft skin there that smelled so much like her, and she turned back to meet his kisses.

There it was, the quick and heavy chemistry, one touch of their mouths together proving what he suspected since the first time his eyes met hers. They would be good together. Perfectly matched to drive the other one crazy.

Any second now, she was going to stop him, tell him what a jerk he was for doing this to her, but he could tell she wanted him just as badly. He settled on top of her body. “Tell me we can’t do this,” he said. “Tell me you want me to stop.”

He moved to the tie on her trench coat. She covered his hand with hers.

His voice was strained. “You’re not going to let me undress you?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.