Hot SEAL, Rusty Nail (SEALs In Paradise)

by Teresa J. Reasor

  He cleared his throat. “In your job, there’s always pressure, always risk, always danger. For twenty years, you’ve sacrificed everything for this job. You don’t have to anymore.”

  Surprised by his vehemence, Connor straightened. “I didn’t know you were concerned about my being in the teams.”

  “I’ve always been proud of what you do. Proud you felt called to serve your country.” He paused for several moments. “But you haven’t given yourself permission to have a life outside the teams, Connor. I know part of it is because of your grief, but I don’t want you to go through the rest of your life alone. Everyone needs someone to come home to.”

  At Connor’s silence, he continued.

  “Have you told Sloane about any of it?”

  “Just about Kate. We just met.” And she was still recovering from a broken engagement and everything else that went along with it. “We’re just getting to know each other.”

  “She doesn’t strike me as the type for a casual relationship, Connor.”

  She wasn’t. That thought gave him a moment’s pause. “We don’t know where this might go, Dad. But I enjoy her company.”

  “She’s beautiful and funny, just as you said. I’d hate to see her hurt.”

  “That isn’t my intention. But I’ll be on one coast while she’s on the other. I still have four months left of my enlistment. And I still haven’t made a firm decision about whether I’ll stay in or not. I’ve been doing things as though I’m going to muster out, I just haven’t sent in the final paperwork.”

  “You have a few weeks to make up your mind.”

  He’d had enough of this heart-to-heart. What the hell was going on with his dad? “I’m going for my run, I’ll be back in time to take you to work, and I’ll bring Sloane over to the nursery before we hit the pool with the tanks.”

  “Okay.”

  He bounded down the stairs and cut across the drive to the road. He knew the route well. He kept his pace steady, warming his muscles, watching his breathing.

  But concentrating on the run didn’t keep his thoughts from running back through what his father had said. Sloane wasn’t the kind to jump into bed indiscriminately. If she was, they’d have already tangled the sheets. She’d have been putting the move on him instead of talking about employment opportunities he might explore after the SEALs and watching movies with him. She was tempted. More than tempted. Her cheeks had reddened when he rested his palm on her thigh. When he kissed her it was like nothing he’d ever experienced before.

  Her ex had treated her like shit, and Connor had no intention of following in his footsteps.

  But he wanted her with a passion he’d never experienced before. Physically, mentally, emotionally—they clicked. And if he didn’t get to experience making love with her, he’d regret it for a long, long time.

  But he didn’t have tomorrows to promise her. Not yet. And there would be twenty-five hundred miles between them when he left to go back to San Diego.

  And why the hell was he thinking like this? They just met. They’d spent five days snorkeling, hiking, swimming together. And he found it impossible to keep his hands off her.

  He needed to think about something else. Because he couldn’t do a damn thing about any of the negative things standing in the way of…anything permanent.

  He needed to deal with the feelings he’d crammed inside the box that kept leaking out at unexpected moments. The dreams that haunted him. The child in El Salvador who seemed to have gotten all tangled up with his Livy. Just thinking her name landed a boulder on his chest.

  He couldn’t go there. He wasn’t ready.

  Sloane put the finishing touches on the lasagna and put it in the refrigerator to bake later. She made the red sauce from scratch the night before, added the Italian sausage and ground chuck to it this morning, let it simmer, then built the lasagna with the cheeses and sauce.

  She bought crusty Italian bread at her favorite bakery on the Island, but made the cannoli from scratch. A mixed green salad with carrots, cucumbers, black olives, green peppers, and crumbled feta cheese would go nicely with her special homemade raspberry vinaigrette dressing. Deciding to fix the salad when she returned from her scuba diving lesson, she set the bottle of vinaigrette in the refrigerator.

  She told herself cooking for Connor would help relieve her nervousness about their upcoming evening, but it didn’t. If she thought too long about it, she grew breathless. She hadn’t felt this way about anyone, not even Reed—ever.

  She had to maintain her cool. She would not embarrass herself. When it was time for her to go back to work in eleven days, she’d have to accept that this was just a short-term fling.

  Connor had some big decisions to make, and whether or not to pursue a relationship wasn’t one of them.

  With those cautions ringing in her ears, she went into the bedroom to dress. If the undies she chose was some of her prettiest, she told herself it was because they were comfortable as well. She chose a wraparound skirt because she could wear it over her bathing suit later if she needed to. And while the cream-colored, short-sleeved shirt dipped a little lower in the front than normal, it was just as modest as her one-piece bathing suit.

  She was standing at the door ready to walk out when the phone rang. Seeing that it was Bernie, she set aside her bags and swiped the screen.

  “How are you doing?” Bernie asked as soon as she answered.

  “Good.” She took a seat on the stairs to the second floor. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m still sore, but I’m already healing. But I’m not telling Paul or the kids. I’m milking this for all it’s worth. The kids are waiting on me hand and foot. Which is a real reversal. I could get used to this.” She chuckled. “How is Mr. Hunk?”

  “He’s fine. Really fine. And his name is Connor.”

  “I remember. But he is a hunk. Wide shoulders, narrow hips, great biceps, beautiful brown eyes, and if I wasn’t crazy about my own hunky hubby… How did things go the other day at his father’s house?”

  “We all three had dinner together. His father is a real sweetheart. Connor and I have spent the day together every day, and so far I’ve had two days of scuba, we went on a hike, and then watched movies. Connor’s coming here for dinner tonight.”

  “What’s for dessert?”

  “Cannoli.”

  “I thought you might have him for dessert to break your dry spell and get a good look at his rusty nail.”

  “You have a one-track mind, Bernie. And I believe his nail will be as big and perfect as the rest of him. Not rusty at all.” She fanned her hot face.

  Bernie’s whoop of laughter had her smiling.

  “I want you to have a good rest while you’re there, Sloane. Come back energized and ready to kick some butt. Let Connor relax you. Sex will do that for you.”

  “I can’t jump into bed with a man on the forth date, Bernie.” A big load of Catholic guilt kept interfering with those plans…or was it because she was chicken?

  “You won’t have a month to sit on the fence and let the good times pass you by, either.”

  She already knew that, but she’d never been casual about sex. She waited eight weeks before sleeping with Reed. Even longer with her college sweetheart. It was a big deal. She had to be sure.

  “I’m going to practice more scuba diving today.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Connor is challenging me to do things I’ve never done before.”

  “Wise man. That’s just what you need. I’ll overnight a copy of the Kama Sutra so you two can work on the positions together.”

  She was relentless. Sloane laughed. “You never give up.”

  “Neither do you. It’s what makes us irresistible.” Her tone changed. “You know I’m just teasing, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “Don’t do anything that doesn’t feel right to you, Sloane. But my take on Connor is he’s one of the good guys. He’d have to be really committed to stay in
the Navy for twenty years.”

  Guilt gave her a pinch. She wished she could tell Bernie about him. “I’m sure he is, too.”

  “And be careful, okay?”

  “I will. Connor knows what he’s doing. I feel comfortable because I know he’ll keep me safe underwater.”

  “Good. Call me. I’m about to pull my poor pitiful mom thing and get someone to fix me some coffee.”

  Sloane laughed. “Enjoy that while it lasts.”

  “I’m going to.”

  What would she do without Bernie? Her mother had been too busy blaming her for the breakup without realizing the cause was something she had no control over. She’d been too raw, too devastated to share the real reason with anyone. Without Bernie by her side…she’d have had no one.

  And what was she going to do when she returned to work? Winning the case had taken the pressure off for a short while, but the partners’ attitude toward her had damaged her trust in them as well as the relationships she used to have with some of the other lawyers in the firm. She would no longer stand for being their whipping girl. Life was too short to live like that.

  She needed to do some thinking of her own.

  The phone rang and, thinking it was Bernie again, she swiped the screen. “Did you forget something?”

  “Sloane?”

  Hearing Reed’s voice at the other end of the line shot adrenaline through her system and stole her breath. How had he gotten through? Connor had blocked his number.

  “Don’t hang—.”

  She cut the call off. She didn’t want or need to think about Reed. She was certain of that.

  She went to recent calls and wrote down the number on a pad on the entrance table, then went to settings and blocked his number as Connor had done yesterday. After several deep breaths, she left the condo.

  She concentrated on finding the house in Beaufort, but her mind was racing a mile a minute. She was over Reed. Had been for months now. She’d found a handsome, fantastic guy who could make her toes curl when he kissed her, and she was going to enjoy him. And she wasn’t going to feel guilty for sleeping with him.

  When she arrived at the house, Connor was sitting on the front porch steps. While she parked, he got to his feet. His long legs, muscular and tanned, snagged her attention when he came to greet her.

  She gathered the bag of food she set aside for Toby and her swim gear from the back seat. He reached to take the bags from her.

  “It’s nice out here this early. That paper bag is for your father. It’s dinner.”

  He opened the bag and breathed in the aroma. “Smells good. Thanks for thinking of him.” He rested a hand against her waist as they climbed the steps. “He was thinking of you, too. He told me to bring you out to the nursery before we get started in the pool. He wants me to give you a tour.”

  They passed through the large living room, cozy and warm, and moved into the kitchen. She envied Toby the large island and six-burner gas stove. What she could do on that baby. “You can just put all that in the refrigerator. I’ve written directions on the top on a post-it.”

  Unloading the bag, he shoved everything in the refrigerator, and then turned to face her. He took her beach bag, set it on the counter and eased in close. With a bent index finger, he tipped her chin up so he could brush his lips against first one cheek, then the other, taking his time. When he finally reached her lips, her knees went jelly weak.

  “I like this.” He toyed with the tie at her waist that held the skirt in place.

  Tingling heat settled low. No other man had made her wet by just kissing her.

  “I have some errands I have to run, but I’d like to take some time for us first,” he said, his tone husky.

  If he took any more time she was going to die of sexual frustration. She leaned in against him and encountered solid evidence that he was suffering from something similar. Every word she’d preached to herself all the way here was drowned out by the hum that escaped her, sounding suspiciously like a purr. She toyed with the top button of his cotton shirt until she unfastened it, then the next.

  Connor cupped her hips and pulled her tighter against him, his lips finding hers. Their tongues mated in a kiss that scorched away any lingering reservations.

  “I know we’ve only known each other for a few days…” he murmured, his voice smoky.

  When she pressed a kiss against the V of bare skin she had exposed, his voice fell away and he sucked in a breath.

  “This will be another first for me,” she said.

  His eyes darkened as she unbuttoned another button.

  She gave a squeak of surprise when he scooped her up, and she gripped his shirt. “You’ll hurt your back.”

  “Not going to happen. You’re not that heavy.”

  That was the first time he’d ever lied to her, but she decided not to hold it against him, because he was pulling a Rhett Butler—and didn’t seem to be struggling while he was doing it, either.

  He shoved the second door on the right open with his foot and stepped into a large bedroom decorated in sage green. He lowered her to the center of a queen-sized bed and took a step back to hastily finish unbuttoning his shirt. He started to peel it off his shoulders, and she sat up and threw out a hand. “Wait.”

  Dear God, he was beautiful. He’d worn dark T-shirts in the pool both days, and it had clung to every masculine line of his torso. But with his shoulders and chest broad, muscular, and bare, and his skin smooth and tanned from being in the pool, she found it hard to drag her gaze away from him. His beard darkened the lower half of his face, giving him a dangerously seductive masculinity.

  Before the hawk-like intensity in his dark eyes could dim, she said, “I just want to look at you for a second.”

  He grinned, slipped off the shirt and tossed it onto the dresser. “You’re about to get a good look at the whole package, up close and personal. No pun intended.”

  She laughed, then toed off her slip-on canvas shoes and pushed them over the side of the bed.

  He reached for the button at the waistband of his khaki shorts, and she tugged her T-shirt up and off and offered it to him. His eyes lasered in on the lacy white bra cupping her breasts as he tossed her shirt toward the dresser. She peeled the straps down her arms, reached behind to unfasten it, and dropped it over the side of the bed.

  When he dropped his shorts and boxer briefs, she got a good look at how much she affected him, and her mouth went dry with anticipation and need.

  She pulled the tie on her skirt.

  Connor said, “Let me.”

  He unfolded the cotton fabric, spreading it open on either side of her. His attention settled on the tiny scrap of lace that matched the bra. His dark eyes seemed to look right through the garment as he ran the backs of his fingers from her navel down over that thin barrier, then slipped his fingers between her legs to caress the inside of one thigh.

  The throb of need that erupted inside her took her breath. She bit her lip to hold back the whimper of need, and gripped the bedspread to help her resist the urgent need to move against his touch.

  Connor braced a knee and hand on the bed and bent to press an openmouthed kiss with a bit of tongue just beneath her belly button while he worked her panties down. She was trembling as he drew them free of her feet and tossed them to the floor with the rest of their clothes.

  He climbed up, covering her with his body, and when the firm heat of his erection rested against her intimately she caught her breath. Despite the raw sexuality of his caresses, his mouth took hers with a tenderness she wasn’t expecting. She raised her hands to cup his face, the springy softness of his beard a texture in contrast to the softness of his lips.

  The drugging sweetness of his kisses left her breathless and aching with need. His large hand cupped her breast while his lips trailed across the soft slope, then covered the nipple. She released a small sigh at the sensation he triggered as his tongue stroked and feathered the underside. Then he sucked, the pressure flatting her nipped a
gainst the roof of his mouth triggering delightful tendrils of sensation deep inside her.

  It had been so long since she’d been touched, had wanted to be touched. Connor knew just where to stroke, kiss, and nibble. With every brush of his hand, every kiss, and the careful pressure of his fingertips, he built a wild, unfettered passion in her.

  She loved the brush of his beard against her skin as his lips followed the shallow dip between her ribs, the curve of her belly, the inside of her thighs, tempting her, teasing her and driving her pleasure and anticipation higher.

  She sat up to cup his face and draw his lips back to hers, the movement of his muscles tensing and releasing when she stroked his broad back, his muscular ribs, his washboard abs. He pressed a condom in her palm, and she quickly sheathed him, for a moment cupping his erection, gripping the hard heat of him. The husky tone of his deep voice as he urged her to guide him home was as physical as a kiss.

  Then he was inside her, thrusting deep, hitting the spot that drove her need higher with every movement. Her orgasm rushed up and over her like a runaway locomotive, and her hips jerked with the intensity of the contractions.

  Connor had never seen anything as beautiful as Sloane tipping over the edge.

  He paused a moment to let her recover, then began to move again. Her body gripped him like a velvet glove, beckoning his own release closer and closer. Each time her hips rose to accept him, he had to fight against his release while he waited for her to find hers again. He reached between their bodies and found her with his fingers, and her body bowed, clamping around him, wrecking the tenuous hold he had on his control. He lost his rhythm, his thrusts turning choppy and quick. He groaned aloud as eight months of celibacy reached critical mass, and he pitched over into bliss.

  Sloane’s heart hammered against him and her breath was warm against his neck. He turned his head to kiss her, then rolled to one side and gathered her close against him. When he looped a long strand of hair behind her ear, she smiled.