Wet N Wild Navy SEALs

by Tawny Weber

  Unfortunately, Perry’s attitude was nothing new, but for some stupid reason she hadn’t expected it from him. Perhaps he was guilty of the same thing she’d done, seeing what he wanted to see—and he’d wanted to see a woman who was too dim-witted to realize she was a token hire.

  That so was not her. On so many levels.

  She turned to leave. She was done talking to him.

  He grabbed her arm. “Wait, Trina. Are you mad? I didn’t mean to cause offense. If I did, I’m sorry.”

  “You’re only sorry if you caused offense? Because if my feeble woman’s brain can’t grasp how sexist you are, then you don’t have to feel bad?” She wanted to add for being a pig but refrained. She was classy that way.

  Perry’s grip on her arm was firm. She tried to pull away but couldn’t break the hold. “Hey, I’m sorry if you didn’t know—”

  “Is everything okay, Trina?” Keith asked, stepping up beside her.

  Trina closed her eyes, trying to decide if she was mortified or thankful Keith had witnessed Perry’s douchebaggery. The last thing she needed was to be rescued, but at the same time, Perry did have her arm in his tight fist, and she had no clue how to get him to let go without causing an embarrassing scene. The mermaid’s breasts could only hide so much.

  Plus, if Perry claimed she was a token one more time, she might just slug him.

  “This is between Trina and I,” Perry said. “Go away.”

  “Trina and me,” Keith corrected, then he leaned in close and dropped his voice so only Trina and Perry could hear. “And you need to let go of Trina right now, or it will be between you and me.”

  Perry released her and she rubbed her arm. His grip had slowly tightened, and she wondered if she’d have a bruise tomorrow.

  Perry glared at Keith. “Who are you?”

  “I’m the guy who’s taking her home.” Keith turned to Trina. “Dollface, you ready to go?”

  She’d say yes to almost anything to get away from Perry Carlson, so much that she wasn’t even ticked off by the implication she was going from here to Keith’s bed. “Sure.”

  “He calls you dollface, yet I’m the sexist one?” Perry asked.

  Trina frowned. He had a point, sort of. Both men had been condescending to her at one time or another today. But Keith—he’d apologized. A real apology, taking the onus of his behavior on himself. Whereas Perry’s apology had been conditional—he was only sorry if she’d taken offense.

  Plus, she had a feeling Keith only called her dollface when he was playing the role of cocky SEAL. That wasn’t all there was to Keith. At least she didn’t think so.

  Hell, what did she know? If someone had asked her this morning which man would bore, insult, and offend her, and which one would apologize, rescue, and intrigue her, she’d have guessed wrong.

  She shrugged and took a step toward Keith. Perry caught her by the other arm. “Wait, Trina. After last time… I thought…maybe there was something between us. Admit it, you wore that dress for me. Not this asshole.”

  She hated that he was right about the dress, but he’d never hear that from her. She tried to jerk her arm from his grasp and failed. “Sorry, Perry. Not interested.”

  Keith stepped closer to Perry. “Don’t do this, man. This isn’t the time or place.”

  “You think I’m afraid of you?”

  “I don’t give a shit if you’re afraid of me. I’m not the one with something to lose here.”

  Perry released her arm. She rubbed her bicep, certain she’d have matching bruises tomorrow. “Let’s go,” she said to Keith.

  “Uptight, dippy bitch. Hell, you aren’t my type anyway. I prefer women with curves.”

  Keith stopped and closed his eyes as if seeking patience. He opened them and said, “Trina, can I hit him? Please?”

  “He’s drunk. And an ass. Not really worth the trouble it would cause.”

  Keith nodded and took a step toward the game room.

  “Pussy,” Perry said.

  They’d given the man every opportunity, and he’d squandered each one. Somehow, insulting Keith crested her breaking point. She twisted on her heel and took a swing, only to be stopped by Keith’s quick grasp. His hand curled around her wrist and gently pulled her back. “As you said, he’s not worth it.”

  Chapter 3

  Keith was stunned Trina had taken a swing at the prick. He’d managed to stop her on instinct alone. He shifted his hold on her forearm—far more gently than the guy she’d tried to deck—and led her through the garden to the house and out through the front door.

  She shook her head as if just realizing her surroundings. “We can’t leave.”

  “You sure as hell aren’t staying.”

  “My friends—”

  “Saw that you’re with me when we passed through the house.”

  She glanced back at the front door. Nothing was going as planned today. “I can’t leave with you.”

  He couldn’t let her go back. She was riding adrenaline, and he’d bet good money she wasn’t used to it, didn’t realize a crash was coming. Plus the last thing she needed was to explain the bullshit she’d put up with from whoever that prick was to her friends, especially since one of those friends was her boss.

  She turned to head back into the house.

  “If you come with me, you can ask me three questions about Somalia,” he blurted. It was the only thing he could think of to stop her.

  She paused. “You have a car?”

  He nodded and darted down the steps to the valet stand. “Black Toyota Land Cruiser. No top.”

  The boy took off to get his rig, and moments later, Keith was behind the wheel with Trina in the passenger seat. He maneuvered down the twisting drive and pulled out onto the rural road on the outskirts of Annapolis. The late-afternoon summer sun shone down, he had the top off his Cruiser, and there was a beautiful woman in his passenger seat. He felt more anticipation for…life…than he had in months. Certainly since leaving the Navy.

  She flopped back in the seat, turning her face toward the sun. Her half smile lit an unfamiliar fire in his belly.

  “Have you ever punched someone before?” he asked.

  She glanced at him through the corner of her eye. Her mouth curved another fraction of an inch. “Yes.”

  He did a double take. Trina was full of surprises.

  “I was impressed with how you tried to defuse him,” she said. “That you didn’t rise to his bait. Sorry I blew it.”

  He shrugged. “Better men than him have baited me. And I held back for you. I figured you didn’t want a scene. Not with your boss there.”

  She lost the content smile and sat up straighter. “Yeah. I didn’t.”

  “Odds are, no one saw you take the swing. There was a gigantic mermaid in the way. And the guy sure as hell won’t mention it.”

  “I’m screwed if Dr. Hill saw us. He consults with the Navy a lot, and Erica was trying to convince him to share some important mapping data. Perry is his golden-boy assistant. I may have to lay low in the history department for a while.”

  “So what’s the deal? Were you into that guy?”

  “I thought I was, until he drank too much. Good lord, he was so full of himself. I’ve written dozens of articles and a book on military history. Which I know he has a copy of because I gave it to him when he visited my office. Yet he thinks I’m a token. I may not be Doris Kearns Goodwin, but I’m no slouch in my field. As if the Navy would pay me to sit in my cubicle and do nothing just because I have ovaries.”

  Keith took his eyes off the road. Warm color lit her cheeks. Moral outrage looked good on her.

  Everything looked good on her.

  “Crap!” She bolted upright. “We have to go back.”

  “Why?”

  “I left my purse in Erica’s car. My ID, phone, keys, money. I don’t have anything.”

  He pulled his cell out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Call Erica. Ask her if you can pick it up later tonight from her place.”<
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  “What do I do until then?”

  “I’m taking you out to dinner.”

  “I suppose she could give it to Cressida—my roommate. After Cressida gets home, I could get into the apartment.”

  “Perfect.”

  Trina made the call and was grateful to leave a message on Erica’s cell. The last thing she wanted was to answer questions right then. She set the phone on the console and said, “We have one problem. I don’t have ID. I always get carded, and frankly, I would really like a stiff drink right now.”

  Keith grinned. “Well then, you’ve just given me the perfect excuse to take you back to my place.” An image of her splayed out in his bed flashed in his mind. His fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “If that’s okay with you.”

  She looked at him speculatively. “Can you cook?”

  “Babe, I’m the youngest of four boys. It was learn to cook, or starve.”

  “Good, because I can’t. Your place it is.”

  He pulled a U-turn in the middle of the empty country road. The sun was shining, the top was off, he had a job offer on the table from Rav, and a beautiful woman had just agreed to go back to his place. Not a bad result from a party he hadn’t even wanted to attend.

  Trina couldn’t believe she was back in Keith’s town house only nine hours after she’d fled this morning. It was a dangerous place to be, considering she’d come down from a slight adrenaline rush, and all she wanted to do was drag the man up to his bedroom and take advantage of him.

  It didn’t help that his living room contained her ultimate aphrodisiac—one entire wall was loaded floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. She studied the feast, running her hands along the spines, realizing with a jolt that the nonfiction books were organized according to Dewey. She shifted to the fiction section and noted those books were organized by genre and author.

  What kind of man did that?

  The same man with a mudroom that lacked mud and a kitchen without crumbs.

  She plucked a paperback copy of one of her favorite Truman biographies from the shelf and admired the gently worn spine. Either he’d bought it used or he’d read it.

  She opened to the title page and felt a strange flutter to see the author had signed the book with an inscription to Keith. The soft thud of footsteps on the carpet told her he had entered the room. She turned to face him. Damn if he didn’t look even more appealing now that she knew he not only read biographies, he went to signings to meet the authors. Was there anything sexier than that?

  He handed her a glass of red wine. “That’s a great book, but have you read this one?” He set down his own wineglass and plucked a history of the battle of Peleliu from the shelves.

  She nodded. “It’s heartbreaking. Sledge’s account is the definitive story, but I appreciate that one for the historical perspective, which you can’t get from a first-person account.” She slid the biography back into its slot and sipped the wine. Heat infused her, and she felt a slight buzz that couldn’t have anything to do with wine she’d only just sipped, but had everything to do with Keith.

  “Sledge puts you in the battle, no doubt about that, but sometimes I find the first-person account too narrow.”

  She waved her hand to indicate his library. “You read a lot of history.”

  “I went from high school straight to the Navy.” He cleared his throat as if embarrassed. “Reading makes up for my lack of education.”

  “You served in the Navy for nearly thirteen years and completed multiple deployments to Iraq and Afghanistan. Your life experience is worth ten times my PhD.”

  He glanced down, making her wonder if he felt self-conscious and if she’d just said the worst thing possible. He could think she was being condescending, but she’d meant it. She had absolute respect for every man and woman who donned a uniform and served.

  “Is pasta with mushroom sauce okay?” he asked in an obvious change of subject. “Everything else is frozen.”

  “Sounds perfect.” If she was botching this with words, she’d stop talking. She set her wineglass on the shelf next to his and took a step closer.

  He flashed a sexy smile. “Careful, Trina. I might forget about dinner.”

  She felt a little reckless and leaned into him, breathed in his scent. He wore some awesome aftershave that practically caused a nose orgasm. She placed her hands flat on his pecs and slid upward, loving the feel of his firm body through his shirt. She surprised herself with her forwardness. She was usually the type to wait for the guy to make a move. But she felt strangely impatient, and from Keith’s heated gaze, she knew he’d didn’t mind being on the receiving end of her advances.

  He dropped the book on the floor and slid both hands around her waist, pulling her snug against him. “Screw it. I’ll order a pizza.”

  She laughed and rose up on her toes. He leaned down to meet her halfway, and his lips found hers. Heat unfurled with the first invasion of his tongue. Her mouth moved under his, his tongue slid along hers, and she wanted to purr with the warm, wonderful sensation. She stroked his cheek, so sexy smooth; he must have shaved right before the party.

  She opened her mouth wider, and he delved deeper. It was a good thing his arms circled her waist, because her legs turned to jelly, or maybe she just forgot how to stand. He caught her as she started to drop and plucked her up, carrying her to the sofa without breaking the kiss.

  He sat so she straddled him. Her short dress rode up, allowing her center to press directly against his erection with only her insignificant thong and his slacks between them. The pressure felt insanely good. She lifted her head and wiggled her hips, increasing the friction. “I’m really glad you came to the party, Senior Chief.”

  He dropped nipping kisses along her collarbone, then his lips trailed lower, into the V of her cleavage. “Me too,” he said against her skin.

  “And leaving was a good idea too. This is way better than making small talk with stuffy politicos.”

  He unzipped the back of her dress. “This is way better than just about anything. Ever.”

  She chuckled and found the top button of his shirt. “So you don’t think I’m fooling around with you just to get information, I suppose I should ask my three questions now.”

  She felt his body tense between her thighs. Dammit. She’d said that wrong. She stroked his cheek and said, “I like you, Keith. That’s why I kissed you. It has nothing to do with my research into Somalia. I wouldn’t do that.”

  His gaze didn’t leave hers. “I know.”

  She leaned down and kissed him again, but his lips were stiff. He kissed her back, but without the heat of a moment before. She slid from his lap and stood. “Let’s just get the questions over with, then.” She dropped back onto the sofa, leaving two feet between them. “Was your team able to infiltrate the al Qaeda leader’s stronghold?”

  Keith closed his eyes and rubbed a hand across his face. “I can’t answer that.”

  “You promised. And I have the necessary clearance. You can tell me everything.”

  “I didn’t promise anything. I only said you could ask three questions. I never said I’d answer them.”

  His words snapped the hazy spell that had enveloped her from the moment she took in his bookshelves. She jumped to her feet. “You sonofabitch!”

  “Trina. I can’t talk about my ops. I swore an oath.”

  She clenched her jaw. “I. Have. Clearance. You can tell me.”

  “I’ve been debriefed. I don’t have to tell you anything.”

  How could she be so stupid? She’d been eager to escape the mess she’d made of the party, and had glommed on to his promise. She felt like a fool.

  “Trina, I like you. I want to spend time with you. Date you. Make love to you. But you need to understand, I will never tell you about any of the ops I was involved in with the SEALs. Period.”

  “I’m such an idiot.” She was stuck in Falls Church without so much as a Metro farecard to get her home. “I need five dollars.”

 
“What?”

  “Five dollars. So I can take the Metro home.”

  “I thought this”—he indicated his open shirt, her gaping dress—“had nothing to do with your research into Somalia. There’s no reason for you to leave.”

  She zipped the back of her dress. “And I thought you didn’t play games. I lost my libido when I realized you misled me. I no longer find you attractive.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “You’ve got an impressive ego, Senior Chief. You may be hot, but no amount of muscle can make up for being manipulative. Now, I need five dollars or a farecard.”

  “I’ll give you a ride. After dinner. If we leave now, your roommate won’t be home yet. You’re locked out.”

  “I don’t give a damn. Give me five dollars, or I’ll walk.”

  “Trina—”

  “You’re no better than Perry. In fact, you’re worse. He was a sexist pig and condescending, but at least he was upfront about it.” She grabbed Keith’s landline and started to dial.

  “Who are you calling?”

  She twisted, turning her back to him. “Cressida. I’m letting her know I’m on my way home.”

  “It’s getting dark. Where do you live? You can’t walk home from a Metro station alone. At least let me take you home.” His voice was low, his tone regretful.

  She gripped the phone tighter, afraid he’d try to take it from her. “Do you really think I’d get in a car with you again? Not just no, but hell, no.”

  He didn’t say a word as she spoke to Cressida, and in the end, he gave her the five dollars. She hadn’t counted on him following her out the door and down the street. Or riding the Metro with her. He sat at the opposite end of the train car and exited when she exited, switching to the Red Line when she switched. He followed her down the busy streets near DuPont Circle, maintaining a discreet distance, and waited a block away as she sat on her front stoop and waited for Cressida.

  His presence was strangely comforting; she hated walking the last two blocks to her place alone at night. Forty-five minutes passed as darkness deepened, and still, Keith didn’t take a step closer, nor did he take a step away. Finally, Cressida and Todd arrived and jumped out of Lee’s SUV. Trina waved as he and Erica drove off, then she stood and climbed the stairs to her apartment. She could only assume Keith turned and headed back to the Metro. She didn’t bother to look his way as she entered her apartment building.