by S. M. Butler
Shane glanced at the rearview mirror, snapping into action when he noticed the long line of cars waiting for him to drive. He stepped on the gas and breezed through the intersection, shocked to realize he’d lost all awareness of his surroundings. He was a SEAL, for fuck’s sake. Awareness was his middle name.
“You okay?” His forehead creased when he saw Jill wringing her hands.
“I’m fine.” She let out a breath. “The honking just startled me.”
He didn’t buy it. She looked more upset than startled. “Your face is whiter than snow, sweetheart.”
“Is it?” Another breath slipped out. “Fine, I guess I was more than startled. I…was in a bad accident when I was younger, and I never really got over it. Cars still scare me.”
Shane nodded. He’d seen too many soldiers battle PTSD, and knew that some traumas stuck with you no matter how hard you tried to put them behind you. “I take it you don’t drive, then?”
She went even paler. “God, no.” Her bottom lip stuck out glumly. “But I promised my therapist I’d work on it.”
He offered a dry smile. “Yeah, shrinks like to weasel a shit-ton of promises out of you.”
“You see a shrink, too?” she said curiously.
“The military requires we go through regular psych evaluations. It sucks, but it comes with the job.”
“Ah.” Jill suddenly gestured toward a cluster of skinny townhouses to their right. “I’m the last one in that row. The house with the red shutters.”
Somehow it didn’t surprise him that her house was the only one in the cookie-cutter bunch to display a splash of color. He’d only spent a short amount of time with the woman, but he got the feeling Jill Marshall didn’t like to play by the rules.
And he also suspected she wouldn’t let the impulsive kiss they’d shared pass without mention.
He was right.
The moment he stopped at the curb, Jill turned to him again. Her cheeks were no longer ashen, but a light pink, and her voice came out husky as she uttered two enticing words.
“Come inside.”
Jill held her breath as she waited for Shane to answer. Or blink. Or do anything other than stare at the windshield with his jaw clenched. Jeez, the way he was acting, you’d think she’d just asked him to murder a cat with her instead of merely inviting him inside.
And after that mind-blowing kiss, how could he even think about saying no? Her body was still tingling from the feel of his firm lips pressed against hers, and even the spark of panic she’d experienced from all that scary honking had faded, replaced by the deep burn of desire in her core.
“Shane?” she prompted when he didn’t answer.
He turned to face her, and the flicker of regret in his eyes spoke volumes. “I’m sorry. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Bullshit. It’s a great idea.” She cocked her head in defiance. “You said it wasn’t just me. You said you were feeling the same attraction.”
“I know what I said.”
“Were you lying then?”
He groaned softly. “Are you kidding me? Sweetheart, you don’t even want to know all the dirty things I’ve been imagining doing to you.”
Oh God. Yes, she did want to know. In explicit detail. Preferably while he was buck naked.
But the blasted man didn’t divulge a single dirty detail. “I won’t act on it, though. I’m leaving tomorrow.”
“So? You’re here tonight. And next week I’ll be in Norfolk,” she reminded him, “so it’s not like we’re going to start anything we can’t finish.”
His features grew as strained as his voice. “I’m not looking to get involved.”
She’d already checked his ring finger several times tonight to make sure she wasn’t making the moves on a married man, and she snuck another peek now, confirming that his finger was indeed bare. But despite that, and despite Holly whispering to her during dessert that she thought Shane was single, Jill still needed confirmation before she made a total fool of herself.
“Are you with anyone?” she asked bluntly.
He shook his head, and she thought she sensed a wave of sadness emanating from him, but it vanished before she could be certain.
“Then live a little,” she teased. “If it helps, the only involvement I’m interested in right now is the one that has you inside me.”
A growl rumbled out of his mouth. “Goddamn it. Don’t say things like that.”
“Why not? We both know you want it, too.” Her gaze traveled to his groin, and yup, it boasted the unmistakable bulge of arousal.
In fact, that thick ridge beneath his zipper looked so damn tempting she couldn’t help herself—she reached over and touched it.
His breath hissed out. “Jill…”
It was a warning, and one she wholly ignored, despite her own surprise at her actions. She was bold, but not this bold. And yet it was impossible to remove her hand when the most impressive masculine package was pulsing against her palm. Her hand moved of its own volition, stroking him until she summoned another growl from his lips.
“I want it, okay?” Anger colored his tone, but his hand was gentle as it covered her knuckles to still her movements. “God help me, I want it bad. But I won’t take it.”
With a frustrated grumble, Jill withdrew her hand. “Jeez. I’m throwing myself at you here. You could at least have the decency to fuck me.”
He choked out a laugh. “I’m tempted. So fucking tempted. But you’ve gotta trust me when I say it’s a bad idea.”
“You’re no fun at all, Shane.”
“Yeah? Well, I get the feeling you’re too fun for me.”
“No such thing.” Her frustration turned to amusement, mingling with a hefty dose of determination that surged through her. “Fine. Challenge accepted.”
His features narrowed in suspicion. “What challenge?”
“You’re playing hard to get, and if I’m being honest, it’s kind of a turn-on.” She flashed an impish look. “So I accept the challenge. We’ll both be in Norfolk next week. I’ll call you when I’m settled.”
He released another breath, this one thick with exasperation. But she could see the twinkle of humor in his eyes, which was a promising sign.
His response, however…not so promising.
“I won’t change my mind. I’m not looking for a relationship.”
The admission might have deterred some women, but considering she’d just come out of the most suffocating relationship on the planet, Jill had zero problems with it. One clingy boyfriend had spoiled her for the rest, which meant she was totally on board for a casual affair—as long as it was with this man. Shane Heron had jolted her libido out of its five-month hibernation period, and damned if she was going to let him get away that easily.
She wasn’t sure what it was about him that fascinated her so much. He was gorgeous, yes. An amazing kisser—holy moly, yes. And he was currently rocking an imposing erection that told her he’d have no problem satisfying her in the bedroom. But it was more than a physical pull that drew her to him. She wanted to get to know him, knock down his defenses and discover who he was behind that somber mask he wore.
“Not even a casual one?” she countered.
“Not even that.”
She stifled her disappointment. “Here’s the thing, Shane,” she said matter-of-factly. “I probably would have accepted that this wasn’t going to happen. I would have let you drive off without a single complaint…if you hadn’t kissed me. But you did, and now all I want is for you to do it again.”
He sighed. “And let me guess—you always get what you want.”
“Damn straight.” She stuck out her tongue. “Want to know why?”
“Nope.”
“Tough. I’m going to tell you anyway. Because I’m the most headstrong, persistent woman you’ll ever meet, dude. Other women might stand by and wait for good things to come to them, but not me. If I want something, I take it.” She leaned across the seat and brought her mouth c
lose to his ear. “And right now, I want you.”
He shivered, and she loved it. Loved seeing such a big, strong man tremble because of her.
Unable to fight the urge, she brushed her mouth over his neck in a soft kiss. She breathed in the lemony scent of his aftershave, felt his pulse throbbing beneath her lips.
“Teasing me ain’t gonna get you what you want, sweetheart,” he said in a silky voice.
“You think this is teasing?” Her lips grazed the edge of his jaw. “You have no idea.”
When she lifted her head, Shane’s gaze locked on to her mouth, and her pulse promptly sped up. He was going to kiss her again. She could see it in his eyes.
“Do it,” she murmured. “Please.”
After an agonizing beat, he forcibly broke eye contact. “Go inside, Jill.”
His hands moved back to the steering wheel, fingers curling around it as if he needed to hold on to something or else he’d give in and touch her.
Damn it, she wanted him to touch her.
“Why are you being so stubborn?” she demanded.
It was a few seconds before he muttered a reply. “Because I like you, okay?”
She couldn’t help but snicker. “So, what, you only sleep with women you don’t like?”
“No, that’s not it.”
It looked like he was gritting his teeth, which just made her laugh again. “Are you a monk then? Have you taken a vow of celibacy?”
A frustrated noise left his mouth. “No, I’m a man. I fuck, okay?”
The response sent a thrill racing up her spine. I fuck. Straightforward, honest, sexy.
“But it never goes beyond one night with me,” he admitted. “One night is all I’m capable of. Hell, not even the whole night, either—I don’t do the staying-over thing. And look, I know I only met you tonight, but I can already tell you’re a pretty amazing person. You deserve more than a couple hours in the sack with a man who’ll walk away the second we’re done. Trust me, I’m doing you a favor by walking away now.”
She gawked at him. “Uh-huh, sure. I feel so honored.”
“You’ll thank me for it later,” he said quietly. “Seriously, when you get to Norfolk, I know you’ll meet someone who’s a million times less fucked up than I am. A nice man who’s going to worship the ground you walk on.”
“Maybe, but that’s not what I want.” She arched one eyebrow. “And we’ve already established that I always get what I want.”
She could tell he was doing that adorable teeth-clenching thing again. “It’s getting late,” he mumbled. “You should head inside.”
Jill nodded and reached for the door handle. She wasn’t going to beg him to go to bed with her, for Pete’s sake.
But she wasn’t giving up either.
He’d already admitted to liking her. To wanting her. And yeah, a roll in the hay might not be in the cards for them tonight, but she had every intention of changing that the next opportunity she got.
“I guess I have my work cut out for me then,” she said cheerfully.
“Jill…” Another warning, low and husky.
She unbuckled her seatbelt and slid closer to plant a loud kiss on his cheek. “Thanks for the ride, Shane. Don’t worry about giving me your number. I’ll just grab it from Carson.”
“Jill…” He looked like he was debating whether to strangle her.
She didn’t give him the chance. She simply got out of the car, then poked her head in the open window. “Drive safe. I’ll see you soon.”
With that, she gave a little wave and sauntered off. His exasperated laughter tickled her back, but she strode toward the house without once looking over her shoulder. She didn’t hear him drive away, though. The black sedan stayed by the curb as she walked up to her front stoop, but it didn’t surprise her that he was waiting. He seemed like the kind of man who always stuck around to make sure a woman got in safe.
Only when she opened the door did she hear the sound of an engine, but again, she didn’t turn to watch him drive off. She was that confident she hadn’t seen the last of Shane Heron.
God knew he hadn’t seen the last of her.
Chapter Three
‡
It was usually a quiet affair each time Team Eight boarded a Chinook chopper, so when Shane found himself surrounded by boisterous chatter the next morning, it was more than a little jarring. He got it, though. There was no reason for the men to be silent. No mission to focus on, no mental strategy to review, no need to prepare for the fact that they might not come home to their loved ones. After a month-long training stint in Coronado, Team Eight was going home, and spirits were high.
Shane sat next to Lieutenant Junior Grade Max Foster, who was five years Shane’s junior but considered his superior by rank. Most of the Eighters were around Max’s age, and although Shane couldn’t deny that his boys were wilder than a lot of the other soldiers on base, he didn’t mind their antics. All that mattered to him was that they could be counted on in the field—and they could. Every last one of them added something to the team, and during an op, the boys exemplified single-minded focus and deadly precision.
At the moment, however, their heads were most certainly not on fieldwork.
“So we go back to her place, and we’re both a little tipsy,” Ensign Hunter Clark was saying.
“Tipsy? Ha. Try wasted,” Duke Donovan piped up. A petty officer, Duke was joined at the hip with Hunter, so much so that the two hound dogs even finished each other’s sentences.
Hunter was quick to deny the allegation. “I was still walking in a—”
“Straight line?” Duke supplied, his blue eyes gleaming. “Bull-fucking-shit, brother. I saw you leave the bar. Swaying and rocking like a seesaw.”
“Fine. I was wasted.” Hunter glared at his best friend. “But still functional enough to rock that chick’s world.”
“Mmm-hmmm. Why don’t you tell everyone how you rocked it?” Duke taunted. “I dare you.”
Sighing, Hunter turned to address the others. “Fine. It didn’t go exactly as planned.”
Shane hid a smile. Hunter and Duke’s stories were notoriously raunchy, and even though he hadn’t heard this particular one before, Shane suspected it wouldn’t end with roses and rainbows and happily ever after.
Next to him, Max chuckled. “What, did you hurl on her while you were doing the nasty?”
“I wish,” Hunter mumbled.
“Oh no, it’s even better than that,” Duke crowed. He jabbed a finger at his buddy. “Please, good sir. Do go on.”
Hunter flipped his middle finger, but kept talking. “So we’re fooling around on her bed—which, by the way, is covered with stuffed animals.”
Everyone snickered.
“For real?” their Southern lothario, who’d been dubbed Lancelot, said with a horrified look.
“For real. Pink bunnies and teddy bears and a ton of other creepy stuffed things that were staring at me the whole time. Freaked me right out.”
“Dude, and you were still able to get it up?” Drew Olsen, the rookie of the team, sounded highly impressed.
“She was smoking hot,” Hunter replied with a shrug. “Besides, if I closed my eyes, I didn’t have to see ’em. Anyway, it’s getting hot and heavy, and I know it’s time to unleash my God-given talents—”
Grumbles rang out all around him.
“—and blow her mind with some Hunter-grade oral,” he finished.
More groaning ensued. Someone threw a rolled-up magazine at him.
Grinning, Shane glanced at the seat across from him and found their sniper extraordinaire, Wyatt Connor, blinking innocently at him.
“So I’m doing my thing, getting her close to the best orgasm of her life, and—” Hunter stopped abruptly, his expression going glum.
“Don’t stop now,” Duke ordered. He looked around the chopper, wiggling his eyebrows. “This is the good part, guys.”
“Just let me skip to the end,” Hunter objected. “That’s the good part.”
Shane felt an elbow poke into his side. “Make him talk, Senior,” Max begged.
“And kick his ass if he leaves anything out,” Lancelot chimed in.
It didn’t surprise him that the boys turned to him to solve the problem. He wasn’t an officer, but Shane had been around longer than most of the men, and they relied on him for guidance and leadership…or to whip others into shape. Max might be the XO on record—and he excelled in that post during ops—but Shane had always been the unofficial leader of the team thanks to all his years of service. And although it still freaked him out a bit that he was a father figure to men who weren’t that much younger than him, he’d accepted the role.
Nevertheless, he caught his commanding officer’s eye to gauge what the man thought of the vulgar discussion, but Nathan Walsh didn’t seem concerned by it. The CO was a hard-ass in the field, but he had a soft spot for his younger charges. He let them get away with almost anything—including locker room talk in the chopper, judging by the barely restrained grin on his face.
Shane leaned forward to shoot Hunter a severe glower. “Keep talking, Ensign.”
The younger man hesitated.
“And then what happened?” Shane said sternly.
After a long pause, Hunter’s response flew out in a turbo-speed rush. “She-called-out-someone-else’s-name.”
The confession set off a series of chuckles from the other men.
“Oh no, you don’t,” Duke said in delight. “Story’s not over, bro. Tell them the name she called out.”
Shane fought a laugh as Hunter closed his eyes like he was mentally picturing Donovan’s grisly death. The boys were nothing if not entertaining, no denying that.
“Come on, what was the name?” Max coaxed.
When Hunter’s mouth stayed shut, Shane intervened once more, utilizing his sharpest authority voice. “What was the name, Ensign?”
There was a beat.
Then, “It was Caitlin.”
Silence crashed over the chopper, Hunter squirming in his seat as every pair of eyes focused on him.