Page 39 of Honk if You Love Real Men (Tempting SEALs 1)

He looked like he might bend down and kiss her, but he must have seen the warning in her eyes because what he did instead was say good-bye before walking away.

“Trent?” she called out to him, shocked that he was so quick to leave.

He turned back to her.

“Thank you,” she said.

He gave her that look again, the one that made her breath catch.

“Don’t thank me yet,” he said gently.

Chapter Three

Five minutes later, Trent leaned his head against the steering wheel and groaned.

What the hell was that?

But as Trent turned on the ignition, he realized he would do anything to help her. Damn it. He still cared.

And so the next night, Trent showed up exactly at six. One look in her eyes as she said, “Hi,” and he realized he might care for her a lot more than he realized. Damn it, what was it about the woman that made him nuts?

“Hi, Bree,” he said, stopping in front of her, even though what he wanted to do was tip his head down and kiss her. In tight jeans and a peasant blouse, she looked hot. “You look great.”

“Thanks,” she said softly. “You look great, too.”

Did he? To be honest, he hated wearing dress shirts and slacks. Give him a pair of worn-out work jeans and an old T-shirt any day.

“Thanks,” he said, catching some guy looking at Bree, the man’s eyes sweeping her lithe body up and down.

Mine, Trent wanted to growl.

“What are we doing tonight?”

“We’re going to a dinner party at a friend’s house,” he explained, taking her arm and guiding her out of the hotel. She didn’t seem to have a problem with him touching her in public, but he’d seen the momentary flash of relief that’d crossed into her eyes when he’d told her they were going out, not up to her hotel room. “I thought it might help you to relax if you weren’t alone with me. After the party, we’ll do whatever you want.” He looked into her eyes. “Whatever you want.”

The gratitude he saw was unmistakable. “Thanks, Trent.”

“No problem.”

But he was having a problem because his body reacted to the sight and smell of her. As he opened his car door, he could have sworn he caught a whiff of her femininity, the salty-sweet scent unmistakable, especially after last night.

“Nice car,” she said, referring to his black, E class Mercedes.

“Thanks,” he said, having gone instantly erect, memories of how she’d looked last night with her legs spread, her cum juices glistening on the inside of her thighs—

Oh, man.

If she’d been any other woman, he would have dragged her upstairs right there. But this was Breanna, and no matter how much he wanted to spread her legs and taste her for himself, he couldn’t. Not yet.

“I feel kind of bad,” she said as she slid in next to him, “because I never even asked how you’ve been doing?”

“I’ve been good,” he said, a fantasy of what she’d looked like with her legs open making him want to moan.

Get control.

He was trying. Damn it, he was trying.

“What about you?” he asked. Too late he realized he shouldn’t be delving into her past. Obviously, it was pretty painful.

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