by Lucy Ryder
With impatience he ripped the condom package with his teeth and fitted the latex to the bulging tip of his shaft with shaking hands.
She tried to help but he caught her hands and slid his fingers through hers. Then he crushed her mouth in a kiss that meant to consume…and thrust deep.
Surprise had Frankie jolting, her inner muscles tightening at the sudden invasion. Muttering a low curse, Nate stilled, his body hard and tense as though he was exercising enormous control. Through clenched teeth he bit out, “Francis? You okay?”
Shifting to relieve the slight discomfort—he was a big guy—Frankie bit her lip to keep from wincing. “It’s…it’s been a long time,” she managed weakly.
He was silent a long moment before huffing out a low laugh. “Yeah. Me too… But don’t worry,” he promised softly, thrusting home when he felt her inner muscles relax to accommodate his size, “I think I can remember what to do next.”
And then he proceeded to show her that he did indeed know what to do. In fact, when she came with him buried deep inside her body, it was so spectacular that she lost herself there for a moment…or five.
And she might even have heard herself cry out.
Maybe.
And when he crushed her close and followed her over, his breath escaping in a long low groan of completion, Frankie thought very briefly that this…this was what she’d been waiting for her entire life. But then her thoughts slid away and all she could do was feel the heat and strength that surrounded her.
*
Seconds, minutes or hours later, Nate finally stirred. Realizing that she was wrapped around him like cling wrap, Frankie loosened her grip and took her first breath. Wow…but that had been…wow. Words seemed inadequate to describe what had just happened and she needed a moment to gather herself because it had impacted her far more emotionally than a simple physical release was supposed to.
He’d touched something deep inside that was beginning to unfurl—and it scared her.
The trick here is to distance yourself, she lectured silently. Hide your emotions…before he sees how much it meant to you.
Fortunately, Frankie had had plenty of experience with that. Opening her eyes, she was a little unnerved to find him closer than was comfortable, studying her with an expression that had her belly instantly clenching.
The breath she’d just taken whooshed out. “Um, sorry.” Even before the words were out, her brow tightened. What the heck was she apologizing for?
Annoyed, more with herself than him, she shoved at him and sat up when he finally rolled aside. Turning away, she pushed her hair off her face and noticed that her hands were shaking. “I guess…” She hid a grimace and casually reached for the sheet, suddenly feeling more vulnerable and exposed than she liked to admit. “I guess I got a little carried away.”
Sprawled beside her and looking like he’d conquered the world—or maybe just hers—Nate folded his hands beneath his head, his mouth curving in a sensual smile as he continued to study her.
“I liked it.”
“You…um, did?” she asked, before she could censor herself. Since when did she get all girly and insecure after a bout of hot, spectacular sex?
Nate gave a rough laugh and sat up, thrusting his fingers through his tousled hair. Hair she remembered clutching as her world spun completely out of control. He dropped a quick kiss on her exposed shoulder and rose. “Give me a couple of minutes,” he growled in a sex-rough voice that had her inner muscles clenching. “And I’ll prove exactly how much.”
Struggling for nonchalance she was far from feeling, she picked at a loose thread, looking anywhere but at the sight of him disappearing into the bathroom.
Okay, so she totally watched his hard buns flex as he moved across the floor. Partly because he had a world-class ass…all high and tight with those little dents on the side, but mostly because she’d half expected him to dress and leave.
“Are you sure you can do that again, Nate?” she asked, sounding skeptical. There was a moment of silence before he reached out to curl one large tanned hand around the door frame. He slowly turned his head and Frankie could see by his stunned expression that no one had ever thought to question his stamina before.
“I mean, you’re, what, thirty-five?”
For a long moment Nate studied her with an unreadable expression before he turned and disappeared into the bathroom.
Stifling a giggle, Frankie rolled onto her back and allowed her eyes to drift closed. She could practically feel the waves of outraged masculinity coming from the bathroom.
There was absolute silence for a couple of beats then the air changed subtly and she opened her eyes to see a spectacularly naked Nate standing beside the bed, staring down at her with hungry heat and a wicked smile.
Trying for confidence she was far from feeling, Frankie let her gaze wander down his impressively sculpted chest and abdomen to another impressive feature.
“You were saying?” he taunted softly, looking so pleased with himself that Frankie pretended to yawn. “Big deal,” she murmured, closing her eyes. “Talk is cheap.”
In the next instant she was flipped over onto her belly as though she weighed nothing more than a pancake. She gave a startled yelp and before she could laugh or demand to know what he thought he was doing, Nate had given her backside a smart slap and hauled her up onto her knees before him.
“Never let it be said,” he murmured softly before giving her shoulder a punishing nip, “that a SEAL couldn’t rise to the challenge.”
Despite the stars exploding behind her eyes and the excitement gathering in the pit of her belly, Frankie laughed. “Actions,” she teased again breathlessly, “speak louder than words.”
His deep chuckle vibrated in his chest, sending tingles erupting across her sensitized flesh, and when he moved his lips from her shoulder to her ear, a shudder of excitement began as a deep humming in her core.
“It’s a good thing, then,” he murmured in a voice that made her body melt and her mind slip away, “that I’m a man of action, isn’t it?”
CHAPTER TEN
JUST BEFORE DAWN, Nate carefully rose from the bed and scooped his pants off the floor as he headed for the door. His intention was to leave before Frankie, sprawled facedown across the bed in careless naked splendor, awakened, but it took all his SEAL discipline not to slide back against that warm, curvy body for another bout of spectacular sex.
And it had been spectacular. In fact, he couldn’t ever remember sex being that good, but she needed her sleep and he needed a change of clothes as well as a shower before he headed off to work.
But it wasn’t just work that drove him from her room without a backward glance. It was a desperate need to get away before she wormed her way any deeper under his skin.
Oh, yeah. And then there was the promise he’d made to his best friend. He wasn’t sure “looking out for her” meant doing it up close and personal. During the past six hours, he’d conveniently forgotten that and hated what that said about him—that it was possible he was more like his father than he cared to admit.
Ignoring the pain in his side, Nate paused on the landing to pull on his still-damp uniform pants over his bed-warmed flesh. If the worst he suffered was a cold, wet ass, then he’d got off lightly because he’d spent the last thirty-five years trying to distance himself from his father’s legacy and had no intention of starting to act like the man now. He’d taken advantage of someone he’d known his whole life, someone who trusted him, someone who’d been like a sister.
And he couldn’t take it back.
That she’d taken advantage of him too—spectacularly—was beside the point. She didn’t know about The Promise and she didn’t know how much keeping that promise meant to him. Besides, he had enough responsibility in his life and should have known that coming here was a bad idea. But the sight of her standing on her front porch, looking like an Amazon princess on a war raid had floored him. He’d kind of lost his mind, ignored the little voice in
his head warning him that he would only find trouble here.
The kind of trouble he was facing now. The kind a man found himself in when he discovered that his wild night had been more than just sex. More than a release of tension. What that more was exactly wasn’t quite clear. What was clear, however, was the need for space.
But even as Nate scooped his damp bloodstained shirts off the entrance floor and quietly let himself out of the house, he knew he running. From the past few hours and from the fact that what he felt for Frankie might be more than he’d bargained for.
*
From the darkened window, Frankie watched a shirtless Nate pause and look up over his shoulder. And though there was no way he could see her, she froze, holding her breath, the hand clutching the sheet between her breasts tightening until her knuckles ached.
Light from the streetlamp poured over his tall, muscled frame, gilding half his body and face while leaving the other in total darkness. Even from this distance she could tell his expression was all hard lines and angular planes, unsoftened by any hint of a smile—by any hint of emotion—his posture all but screaming a remoteness, a distance she wished she could breach.
For some reason he wasn’t ever going to let her in. The realization left a pinch in the region of her heart and Frankie spun away to sink back against the wall. Squeezing her eyes shut, she told herself that she wouldn’t watch him leave. Not again.
Yet her ears strained for the sound of his truck and when it eventually came, the well-tuned purr competed with the rush of blood in her ears.
After it faded, she let out the breath she was still holding and pushed away from the wall. She absolutely did not care that he’d sneaked out without a Thanks or a See ya around as though she meant nothing to him but a couple of orgasms.
But that was fine, she told herself fiercely. At least he’d saved her from having to throw him out because she was done with him too. He’d given her exactly what she’d needed and had left before he could annoy her with his big body and bossy attitude. Great. Good. She hated sharing her space almost as much as she hated bossy alpha males.
Ignoring the little voice in the back of her mind calling her a liar, Frankie firmed her jaw and headed back to the bed, determined to get a couple more hours’ sleep even if it killed her. But when she approached the rumpled covers and spotted the foil packets scattered across the floor, the thought of sliding back between sheets that smelled of him was suddenly more than she could face.
Because what had been an impulse brought on by heightened emotions had become so much more.
With a growl that sounded suspiciously like a sob she dropped the sheet she was still clutching like a lifeline and reached for a clean oversize T-shirt.
Emotions locked firmly away, she pulled it over her still-tingling flesh and stripped the bed, ripping everything off before stomping downstairs to dump the whole lot in the washing machine.
She added washing powder, set the program to sterilization and then headed upstairs to sterilize her body and scrub away the memory of the past five hours.
It was still dark when she left the house and set off on foot, her wallet and car keys tucked into her pockets as she headed for the hospital five miles away where her car was still parked.
She needed to do something or else she would go insane, and after being cooped up the past week she had a desperate need to head up the coast—to get out of Port St. John’s.
She knew—from experience—that she couldn’t outrun herself. But, hey, she would give it a darn good try.
It felt good to be in the crisp predawn air and Frankie sucked in deep lungs full of cool air redolent with salt and hints of the dark nearby forests. Walking at a fast clip, she ignored her still tender feet and willed her mind blank because that was the only way she was going to handle this.
Yet even the full force of her will couldn’t lock away images of the past few hours. Images of Nate’s hot gaze holding hers as he drove her out of her mind with pleasure. Of the rough scrape of his jaw against her sensitized flesh…of the heavy weight of his body as he uttered a long low moan and collapsed over her, breathing roughly, heart thundering, muscles twitching in the aftermath.
You got me into this mess, she told her body furiously when her good parts tingled and melted. You should have let me kick his ass instead of exploring all those yummy muscles with my hands and mouth before licking him from head to toe.
Arrrgh. Pressing her fist against the pressure in her chest, Frankie told herself she didn’t need all the conflicting signals he constantly sent out and she certainly didn’t need his bossy, annoying attitude. She didn’t need anyone. Least of all a man who’d ignored her for the past twelve years, pretended she didn’t exist the months he’d been home, and then stormed back into her life, thinking he could order her around.
Nope, she didn’t need him.
Want, however, was something else entirely. Something her body was all too eager to remind her of. And her mind…well, it seemed just as rebellious as her stupid body.
Fine. She wanted him. Big deal. He was pretty to look at and he had some awesome skills in the bedroom. But it was over now and she—and her body—could just get over themselves. They’d had him and once had been enough.
More than enough.
But even as she thought it, a growing feeling of misery lodged like a hot ball of lead in her chest. As for her heart, well, its job was to pump blood around her body and that was all. It had no business yearning for things that would never be. She would never be the kind of woman Nate wanted.
*
A few days after the biggest mistake of his adult life, Nate caught sight of Frankie walking out of the ER ambulance bay looking like a warrior goddess in the dark blue EMT jumpsuit. She’d immediately caught his attention—along with that of just about every other guy in the car park, including the rookies he was escorting to get their routine shots because their medic hadn’t yet been replaced after his unexpected heart attack.
With her head thrown back as she laughed at something the young guy she was with said, she looked more carefree than he’d ever seen, but it was the overly familiar body language of the other man that roused some very dark, very alien emotions in Nate’s gut. Especially as Frankie seemed to be enjoying the closeness—a little too much for a woman who just a few days ago had been all over him like he was the frosting on a huge piece of chocolate cake and she was ravenous.
His mind instantly conjured up images of Frankie and the guy that had his teeth practically cracking under the strain of his clenched jaw. Oblivious to the tension humming through his body, the rookies had completely embarrassed themselves and the uniform by letting out a couple of wolf whistles.
Frankie had instantly turned her head and her eyes had locked with his for a couple of beats—no smile of recognition in their leafy-green depths. But even as he’d felt his heart rate speed up and his mouth begin to curl into an involuntary smile, she’d turned and walked away; without acknowledging him in any way other than that one brief unreadable glance. Without a sign that just a few nights ago he’d rocked her world.
Without even a Hey, keep your pets in check quip he’d half expected.
And as he watched her slender back and swaying hips disappear, he was tempted to follow and punch the guy before grabbing her and pushing her up against the nearest wall. He wanted to kiss her—remind her of the other night—until her eyes went soft with arousal and she made that little hitching noise in her throat that drove him wild.
The fact that he’d been at the hospital in his official capacity and that he was back on his promise wagon stopped him. Oh, yeah, and the fact that she’d think he’d lost his mind and have him committed.
And even if he’d felt as though he had, Nate Oliver was an ex-Navy SEAL. SEALs completed their mission—no matter what.
And his mission: to honor a promise to a dead man.
But although Nate had tried, going back to the way things had been was more difficult than he�
�d anticipated. He might have washed her scent from his skin but no amount of scrubbing could rid him of the feeling that he’d messed up. Watching her climax had been the hottest, most erotic experience of his life, and if he’d wondered why it had happened with Frankie of all people, he was going to ignore it because dealing with her had always been like negotiating a minefield. One misstep and everything could blow up in his face.
In one thing she was predictable, though, he mused wryly. She was unpredictable, and in the days that followed he found himself tensing every time his phone rang or chimed an incoming message. But Frankie never called or texted. In fact, she seemed completely unfazed by something that had rocked him to his emotional foundation: that their night had been more than a quick release after months of abstinence.
He’d heard that she’d been partying it up at the Seafarers and what he experienced could only be described as jealousy. It was an emotion he’d never once felt when it came to women. And he didn’t like it.
Not one little bit.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
IT WAS TOWARD the end of the following week that Nate admitted he was in serious trouble. First he zoned out during a meeting and then he nearly passed out on a routine swimming exercise, drawing a concerned reprimand from the base commander and orders to get himself checked out.
Since the base medic had still not been replaced, Nate was ordered to go to the ER for a checkup. He didn’t need a doctor to tell him that his wound was infected but since it would only be fixed by a course of antibiotics and expert wound care, he simply nodded and left the base. No way would he make the mistake of going to Frankie, though. Not after what had happened the last time.
Sighing, he drove to the hospital, hoping he wouldn’t see the redhead currently making his life a living hell.
Prepared for a long wait, he was surprised to find the ER relatively quiet as he headed for the admissions counter. The nurse who’d been on duty the night of the fire looked up as he approached.