Page 43 of Under Pressure

Squaring himself to her, his tone changed. “You’re stubborn as hell, aren’t you?”

“So what if I am?”

“You should watch your back. Your boss is into you. I wouldn’t trust him. He could be out here, waiting for his moment.” Delta nodded around to the dark bushes lining the top of the beach.

“And what about you?” The accusation in her voice was clear.

He stood still, that hunter impulse driving his focus towards one thing only.

“You are used to people taking orders from you, huh?” she continued, holding her position. “You don’t know Hunter. He’s harmless…unlike you.”

“Unlike me?” Delta stood back on his heels, staring her down. “Looks like you’ve got my type all figured out. Now, I know your type. You’re the type that always goes it alone and never asks for help.”

She fidgeted in the sand, unwilling to answer him, which was when he knew he’d got her. Even in the moonlight, he didn’t miss the fire in her eyes—a fire she no doubt stoked to survive.

He continued, trying to get her to open up, “I bet it was a big deal for you that you accepted my help on the ropes today. You don’t like being rescued, right?”

She gaped up at him, concession in her eyes. He’d hit the nail on the head. Why couldn’t he have seen it earlier?

“I bet you never let anyone help you.”

“I’ve managed on my own this far, haven’t I?” She shrugged, nonchalant yet revealing all the same. She dropped her hands, fidgeting with the pockets on her jeans, averting her gaze.

She was too alluring, and Delta found himself edging in closer to her, drawn to the fact that he was the one who’d cracked her—no one else. The waves crashing in the background made the perfect backdrop for what was about to happen. Her scent filled the air between them—that rosy musk of sweetness. It was damn intoxicating. Maybe a little scared, she flashed her eyes back up to him, parting her lips in the obvious awareness that they’d lost the comfortable distance between them. With a look like that, he well and truly couldn’t help himself. He knew he shouldn’t do it, but he was unable to stop.

Losing control, he reached out, roughly gripping her hourglass waist, pulling her up and into him. Growing breathless, she yielded to his touch, giving in—showing him that she wanted it, wanted him.

“We’re looking for different things,” she whispered as he slowly dropped his head.

He hovered his mouth above hers. “Maybe.”

“Don’t kiss me unless you mean it,” she pleaded, vulnerable. “Don’t—”

He didn’t let her finish her thought, closing the remaining gap between their mouths. He took her lips with his, kissing her well and thoroughly. At first, she pouted as if to refute him, but her gaze lowered, her eyelids growing heavy. She welcomed his tongue, and he tasted her for the first time, the flavor exactly as he imagined. Erotic, sensual, he started slow, but passion drove him to quicken the kiss, a sense of urgency lingering. Her flawless body sank into his and warmth permeated through her into his damn cold chest, which was starting to remember what it was like to be that near someone.

With every sensation, she softened a little more, until it felt like she was completely his to do with as he wished. Like he’d finally won his prize, he tightened his hold on her, drawing her flat against him, feeling her breathe as he let his tongue tango with hers. Her mouth was just as sweet as could be, both wet and delicious. It was becoming a little too clear that he couldn’t get enough as he kissed her, adored her, consumed her—forgetting that what he knew would keep them apart.

“Delta, you’re too much.” She moaned, tilting her head back as he kissed down her neck, feeling her running her hands up his biceps, toward his chest.

“Matteo,” he corrected, surprising himself, aroused as hell from her exploration. “My name’s Matteo.”

Raising his eyebrow, he grazed his teeth along her delicate neck, realizing that he’d never told anyone his real name except her. He wanted her like he’d never wanted a woman before and he was making it damn clear with his frenzied hunger.

To her intensifying breathing, he added, grinning, “My mother had to fight my entire Italian family to name me that and not Michael.”

She groaned his real name in response, something he knew he’d never get enough of. Running his hands down her back, feeling her hot, tight ass through those damn jeans, his cock pulsed in need, like it was ready to explode. Goddamn, she was something. They don’t make girls like her anymore, he thought, determined to feel every inch of her skin before the night was through. Logic had flown out of the window, along with any sense of care. He’d lost control—the only thing that mattered anymore was her body intertwined with his.

Chapter Sixteen

Present day

Delta flipped the invitation to his Medal of Honor ceremony back and forth in his bloodied fingers as he sat in the shadows on the couch in his living room, watching the street in front of his house. It was past midnight, but he couldn’t sleep.

He couldn’t blame the aching feeling in his fists for keeping him awake, despite how hard he’d pummeled Hunter at the bar. Hell, he should have done something a lot worse. Watching the sniveling coward wrap his arms around Kendra had burned so deeply, almost as much as seeing the hate on Kendra’s face as she’d accused him of fucking around. Familiar tension coiled through Delta’s body as he tried to push the thought away.

Why the fuck were they there?

Running through scenarios, letting his exhausted, hurting body sink into the couch that he never sat on, he wished for sleep. He’d been burning the candle at both ends for too long. Enviously, he watched his dog, Timber, curled up at his feet and snoring. Her warm body immobilized him.

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