Page 59 of Rescue Me (Tempting SEALs 6.10)

“I don’t play games, Seth.”

No, she didn’t. He understood. Silent seconds ticked by before he answered, knowing he was speaking the truth and a little rattled by it. “Like I said. I’m not sure this is one.”

He saw the answering spark in her eyes. Felt a sudden electricity in the moment that compelled him to close the distance between them.

He searched her face, back-shadowed by the night and the canyon rim. Touched a hand to her hair. Gently fisted his fingers in the thick, luxurious weight of it and drew her toward him.

“I’m not sure what is happening here, Elena, but whatever it is … it damn sure isn’t a game.”

Then he kissed her. Open mouth, seeking tongue, and a suddenly desperate need. Hadn’t realized how much need until he’d been within touching distance. Hadn’t realized how much desire until she responded to his deep, throaty groan with an answering sigh and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Holy God. The woman could kiss. The woman could reduce him to a puddle if he wasn’t careful. But careful wasn’t in him at the moment. He felt reckless and hungry and the way she responded to the demands of his mouth told him she felt exactly the same way.

He deepened the kiss, tasting, exploring, welcoming her lush responses and inviting more. He filled his hands with her hair, tilting her head to change the alignment of their mouths and experience another amazing angle of Elena.

With a groan, he let his hands wander down her slim back, cupped her hips with splayed fingers and drew her against him. She gasped when she felt his erection pressing against her belly, did an amazing little shiver thing that ground her even closer and forked her fingers into his short hair.

He could have stood there kissing her like that forever. Feeling all of her pressed against all of him. Learning her curves, the satin feel of her skin as he tunneled a hand up under her shirt. Fire. She was on fire and he wanted to bring her from a blaze to a raging inferno.

He cupped her breast and she moaned. Flicked his thumb over the peak of her erect nipple and she cried out. Then stiffened. Broke the kiss.

He didn’t fight her. Hell. He had to catch his breath. Clear his head.

“Wow.” Breathless, he cupped her head in his hands and pressed his forehead to hers.

She pushed out a tight laugh, gripped his biceps and hung on like she needed his strength to steady her. “In a word.”

He struggled for a deep breath, still holding her that way, forehead to forehead, his hands in her hair, her fingers wrapped around his biceps—like she couldn’t decide whether to push him away or pull him back against her.

“That was … um … that was intense,” he whispered, both of them struggling for a steady breath.

She pushed out a tense laugh. “There’s another word.”

He grinned then pulled back so he could see her face. Her eyes were heavy-lidded; her lips plump and pink from his mouth plundering hers.

“One word that doesn’t fit is game. No question in my mind, Elena. That was definitely no game. I don’t honestly know how long I’ve been wanting to do that, but from the way my knees feel, it must have been a helluva long time.”

She looked sober and stunned and confused. “I … I, ah, guess I didn’t know it was what I wanted either.”

His heart slammed like a brick against his ribs at her admission. “So. What do we do about it?”

She shook her head. Breathed deep. “Taking a step back and thinking it over might be the wisest move.”

“Yeah,” he agreed with a slow, reluctant nod. “You’re probably right. Is that what you want to do?”

She finally met his eyes, sighed in defeat and moved into him again. “Hell, no.”

Then she kissed him. On the attack this time, nothing tentative, nothing shy and nothing held back. It damn near knocked him on his ass.

“Elena,” he whispered, hearing the urgency in his voice as her busy, busy mouth drove him out of his mind. “If we don’t take this horizontal soon, one of us is going to get hurt.”

“Oh, you’re gonna get hurt all right, lovebirds,” a gruff voice growled behind them.

Reflexes honed by muscle memory and practice, triggered by threat, had Seth shoving Elena behind him, automatically reach for his S & W. Which, of course, wasn’t there.

Ten feet away, two hard-faced men stood in the darkening night. One pointed a Glock dead center at Seth’s chest. The other aimed the silver barrel of a Ruger revolver at his head.

“You’re gonna get hurt real bad.”

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