Page 10 of Honk if You Love Real Men (Tempting SEALs 1)

“Sex,” she said. And then bit her lip.

Jesse surged up out of the water like an erotic Neptune, his thighs and prodding erection the trident that cleaved her body. She was startled, but she opened to him. Her head flew back; her back arched. Her widespread thighs clasped at his hips. He pressed into her, hard and dripping wet, holding himself up out of the pool on arms that encased her like steel bars.

His mouth covered hers before she was able to draw breath. The slam of pure sensation was another shock. She responded instinctively, melting against the heat of his massive chest. He couldn’t use his hands, so every molecule of his dominating force went into the kiss. And she ignited. She burned.

“You mean fucking,” he said with a ferocity that curled her edges. His face was right there, strangely exciting, made of jutting bones and scraping skin. Eyes black as sin. Hot breath. Even his lips were hard as his tongue speared in and out of her mouth. “That’s all you want from me?”

He didn’t let her answer, only pressed deeper with his driving tongue. There was some fear, but for the most she was deeply, darkly aroused. Every inch of her body was alive with a gasping pleasure, but the hottest pinpoints of sensation were at her nipples and especially her clit, where the sensitive nerve endings had knotted into a hard little pearl that worked like a hair trigger, sending her senses reeling each time the ridge of his cock ground against it.

“Just a boy toy,” he said. “I should be insulted.”

“You want it as much as me.”

He put his head beneath her chin to push her head back, saying, “What gave you that idea?” as he opened his mouth on her throat.

She gripped his hair. Her jaw sawed, but the only sound that came out was an “uh, uh, uh,” as he bit small hard kisses over her neck and shoulder and along the slope of her chest. Her nipples were on fire, aching for the relief of his wet mouth. But he didn’t continue. His shoulders hunched and with a splash he dropped into the water.

The abandonment was sudden. She didn’t move for an instant. Then came the hot stab of awareness. Her hands plunged to her skirt, shoving the denim—patched with damp—between her open thighs because his hands were on her knees and, oh God, his face—

“Don’t be shy.” He inhaled. “I know you’re aroused. Your scent gives you away.”

She focused where she could without breaking into self-conscious giggles. “I am shy. Sometimes.”

“I might believe you—” One long arm snaked out, wrapping around her butt and pulling it to the very edge of the tiles. She heard the zip at the back. “—if you hadn’t gotten wet so fast.”

Gulp. “Shy girls want sex too.”

Don’t be passive. Take charge. She lifted her hips and dragged the waistband past them. He helped remove the skirt and she plopped her ass down, raising her legs and pushing the garment away, chill bumps popping up on her exposed thighs as the air met her slick skin. His hands worked easy strokes into her muscles, glidingly warm. The caress was about more than seduction.

“Besides, I learned to go after what I want,” she added. She met his eyes, saw the amused respect in the lift of his brows. Emboldened, she leaned down to rest her hands on his shoulders and launched herself into the pool with a gleeful shout.

In a swirl of waves, he caught her around the waist. She squirmed about, laughing, keeping her knees together so he had to put the other arm under her thighs to hold her high against his chest. She felt like the queen of the circus, riding aloft on th

e elephant’s trunk.

They bobbed together as Jesse propelled them deeper, keeping his face lifted to hers, his gaze searching. “Tell me what else you’ve gone after.”

“Freedom,” she said without thinking.

“From?”

She looked away, answering him only in her head. Fear. Her greatest relief after the divorce and her move West had been to know again what it was to live without fear.

Then why was she finding Jesse’s fierceness such a turn-on? She would not let herself be lured into an obsession. On either of their sides, she realized. Her craving was as powerful as his.

“Oh, you know. Freedom from—” She rolled her bottom lip, trying to keep her head while at the same time she was starkly aware of the vise of his arms around her, holding her wedged against his body. And the capacity in him—in all men—to turn their physical mastery to violence. “For. Freedom for an education.”

“Doesn’t every American have that?” His chin hitched. “Even if some of us waste it.”

“I had extenuating circumstances.”

“Huh. Big words. Showing off the education?”

There was a teasing gleam in his eye, leading her to suspect that he might be the rare blue-collar man who wasn’t intimidated by her intelligence or ambition. Or white collar, she amended, thinking of the night school advisor who’d tried to direct her to acquire an “easy” degree.

She was beginning to feel more than lust for Jesse. She slid against him like warm butter, dipping lower in the water. “I want to know about you. How long have you been on the road crew?”

“Since I—Not long. Eight months.” His nose pressed against her collarbone. He licked her skin. Hard, pressing fingertips moved across her bottom, stirring her hunger. “Are you asking me when I intend to move on?”

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