Sighing, she leaned her head against the arm of the sofa. When her shirt slid off her shoulder, she blushed, hoping Seth wouldn’t comment on the fact that she still wore his flannel shirt and track pants even though her clothing had come out of the dryer hours ago. Call her pathetic, but the clothes smelled like him and she liked being surrounded by his heady scent.
But when he walked back into the room a few minutes later, the scent she loved so much held the unmistakable hint of smoke.
“Sorry for taking so long,” he apologized, crossing the hardwood floor with an unopened beer in his hand. “I needed a nicotine fix.”
She raised her eyebrows. “You went outside in the storm?”
“Nah, just opened the sliding door and stood in the kitchen. The rain’s letting up, by the way. And it’s not as windy as it was earlier.”
Rather than sit at the other end of the couch, he plopped his big body on the center cushion, his muscular thigh mere inches from Miranda’s socked feet.
Her heart skipped a beat. Crap. Why the heck did he have to sit so close?
She decided to focus on the one thing guaranteed not to turn her on—his smoking habit.
“So, how long have you been trying to give yourself cancer?” she asked politely.
Seth laughed, the husky sound sending a shiver up her spine. “Oh no, gee, please don’t hold back.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He shrugged. “You’re right. It’s a terrible habit. And to answer your question—since I was fourteen.”
“Ah, you rebelled young.” She slanted her head. “I’m surprised Missy let you get away with it.”
“The one thing my mom hates to be called is a hypocrite. Seeing as she’s a chain-smoker herself, she’s not one to lecture her son for doing the same. After she caught me with a cigarette that first time, she yelled at me for all of two minutes, then bummed a smoke off me and lit up.”
He grinned, and Miranda’s heart did a juvenile little flip. He was so much more attractive when he smiled, so much…safer. Those angular features of his softened, the dangerous glint in his eyes dimmed, and he lost that predatory air.
But she wasn’t foolish enough to believe that beneath Seth’s menacing exterior was a man with an endless supply of smiles and good cheer. Make no mistake—Seth Masterson was not a teddy bear. He was the big bad wolf, and damned if she was going to let him make her his next meal.
“What about you?” Seth asked. “Did you do any rebelling of your own?”
“I got pregnant at eighteen—what do you think?”
He chuckled. “So how did it go down? Strict parents, curfew, a million rules that you eventually decided to break?”
“Not exactly. I lived with my father and grandmother. Neither was strict. Neither acknowledged my existence.” Even so many years later, she couldn’t control the bitterness that rushed to the surface.
He furrowed his brows. “What about your mother?”
“She died three months after giving birth to me. Drunk-driving accident—she was the drunk driver, by the way, and the only casualty in the huge pileup she caused.” Miranda offered a grim smile. “Dad got stuck raising a baby. I have no idea why he didn’t just put me up for adoption.”
“Maybe because he loved you?” Seth said in a surprisingly gentle voice.
“He doesn’t love anyone but himself,” she retorted. “He was hardly home during my entire childhood. Sometimes I wouldn’t see him for weeks.”
Seth frowned. “What does he do for a living?”
“Gamble.” She barked out a laugh. “I have no idea what he does now—I haven’t seen him since I left home—but back then he worked odd jobs, manual labor, landscaping, whatever he could find. Then he’d take his paycheck and cash it at the casino. And then he’d lose every penny, come crawling home and beg my grandmother for money.”
“Is your grandmother still alive?”
“She died a year after the twins were born. Stroke.”
“Shit. I’m sorry. What was she like?” The cushions shifted as he leaned forward to put his beer on the simple pine coffee table.
After a second, Miranda did the same, then brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “She was…tired. She worked as a cleaning lady up until the day she died. She made sure I had clothes on my back and food in my belly, but she didn’t show me much affection. My dad was a huge disappointment to her, and I’m the spitting image of him.” Sorrow rippled in her belly. “I think she gave up on me without ever even giving me a chance.”
“I’m sorry,” Seth said gruffly.
“The one thing she did do was pay for my dance lessons. To this day, I’m still baffled by it. Maybe she wanted me out of her hair four evenings a week. And she left me some money when she died, which I also don’t understand.”
“Maybe she cared about you and that was the only way she knew how to show it,” he countered.
“Maybe.”
“Is it that hard to believe that the woman who fed and clothed you and paid for your dance lessons might have actually loved you?” he teased, reaching out to tweak one of her knees.
Miranda jumped the moment he made contact. “Sorry,” she murmured. “I’m just…”
“Determined to keep me at arm’s length,” he finished darkly.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m committing some horrendous crime by not agreeing to sleep with you. You’re a good-looking guy, Seth. You can have any woman you want—so go pick one and let this go.”
As usual, he didn’t acknowledge her latest rejection. “Why was it a huge deal?”
She ran a frustrated hand through her hair, tucking the long strands behind her ear. “What are you talking about?”
“That’s what you said after I kissed you, that the kiss was a huge deal.” His eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“I don’t know why I said that,” she answered, starting to feel flustered. “It wasn’t really a big deal at all. I mean…I guess…whatever. Can we not talk about this anymore?”
Ha, fat chance. Like Seth would ever drop the subject now. That stupid stammering fest would only succeed in heightening his curiosity, not eliminating it.
Sure enough, his expression took on that familiar mocking light. “So are you going to tell me or should I start guessing?”
She gritted her teeth.
“Guessing, it is. All right…the kiss was a big thing because…you’re in love with me?”
Her jaw dropped. “What? No.”
“Huh. Not sure if I should be insulted by how fast you shot that down.” He shrugged. “Okay, then it must be ’cause you’ve never been kissed like that before. It was that amazing, huh?”
Aggravation climbed up her throat. “You’re really not going to drop this, are you?”
“Nope.”
She leaned forward and grabbed her beer. A few sips later, she didn’t feel any less embarrassed about the conversation or the confession sitting on the tip of her tongue.
“Come on, baby, spit it out.”
She met his inquisitive gaze. “It was a big thing because it’s the first time I’ve kissed a man since the twins were born.”
Silence.
And then some more silence.
Seth was staring at her like she’d grown horns and a tail, as if the fact that she hadn’t been making out with men left and right was truly astounding. The longer he stayed quiet, the more uncomfortable she became, and the discomfort only skyrocketed when understanding dawned on his face and she saw him grasp what she hadn’t said.
“Shit, you haven’t had sex in six years?” he blurted out, each word dripping with incredulity.
She managed a quick nod. Her cheeks were so hot she knew she must look like a tomato.
“Six years.”
She finally found her voice. “Seven, if we’re going for accuracy here.”
“Seven years?”
“Yes, and stop looking at me like that.”
“Seven years!”
She heaved a sigh, wishing he would quit acting like her admission was incomprehensible. Lots of people went without sex.
Right?
“Wow. Just…wow.” Seth shook his head in amazement. “I guess parenthood does equal celibacy.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” He took the beer from her hand and promptly dropped it back on the coffee table, his movements quick and decisive. “You just blew my mind, you know that?”
She clenched her jaw, a little tempted to clock him one. An impulse that deepened when he opened that smart mouth of his and said, “Oh, baby, you need this just as much as I do, don’t you?”
“Need what?” she grumbled.
“Me. You. Naked.” His smile was beyond cocky. “You need to be fucked. And badly, from the sound of it.”
Even while her skin prickled with offense, her lower body tingled and pulsated in response to his lewd assessment of her situation. “I don’t need anything from you.”
“You haven’t been with a man in seven years.” He still sounded downright flabbergasted. “How have you not gone insane yet? What happens when you’re struck with that basic carnal urge to come?”
“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of my own urges,” she said stiffly.
“So you get yourself off?”
A fresh dose of humiliation heated her face. “Yes, Seth, I get myself off. Happy?”
“Not in the slightest.” His silvery gaze burned molten hot. “I won’t be happy until I’m the one getting you off.”
As her thighs quivered and her clit throbbed like she’d just placed a vibrator on it, Miranda averted her eyes and tried to compose herself. She suddenly wished she’d gone somewhere else for refuge, anywhere else. Why had she thought coming to Seth’s house could possibly be a good idea? Why had she willingly placed herself in the path of temptation?
“Miranda.”
Ugh. Why did he have such a sexy voice? Why did he have such a sexy everything? She kept her gaze on anything but Seth, but that didn’t deter him from sliding closer.
She squeaked out a protest when he lifted her legs into his lap. “What are…”
Her voice died. So did her common sense, because when she shifted her head and saw that Seth’s lips were closing in on hers, she made no effort to stop him.
The kiss was as hot and explosive as the one in his bedroom. Flames licked at her skin, spreading to every erogenous zone in her body. Her breasts. Her nipples. The hollow of her throat. Behind her ear. Between her legs. When he nipped her bottom lip with his teeth, her core clenched, the pressure becoming unbearable.
God, he knew how to kiss. She would have expected him to be rougher, greedier, but he took his time, stoking the fire building inside her with the fleeting brushes of his mouth and teasing exploration of his tongue.
She was helpless to resist. She sank into him, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders and clinging to him as if she were hanging off the edge of a cliff and he was her lifeline. Except a lifeline was supposed to make you feel safe, and Seth…he made her feel anything but.
As he thrust his tongue inside her mouth and deepened the kiss to an even hotter, even more terrifying level, Miranda experienced something akin to free-falling. Her sense of equilibrium was gone, her heart pounding, her breath lodging in her lungs.
And that was before he touched her chest. Once his large, warm hand covered one aching breast, all bets were off. Her body went haywire on her—nerve endings crackled, head fogged, pulse raced. Not even the hint of smoke on his tongue could spoil the mood. If anything, the evidence of his bad habit only reminded her of how dangerous he was, and though she wasn’t proud of it, a thrill shot through her. Why did bad boys excite her so much, dammit?
“You’re not wearing anything beneath that shirt,” he muttered against her lips.
“No.” Her voice was a shaky whisper.
Seth cupped both her breasts possessively, growling as he gave them a not-so-gentle squeeze. When he lightly pinched her nipples through the shirt, she felt it between her legs and whimpered. With no bra acting as a barrier, the flannel abraded her nipples, and they puckered and tingled and pleaded for more attention.
Dipping his head, he nuzzled the crook of her neck. “You smell like heaven.” He nibbled on her feverish flesh. “Taste like heaven too.”
His facial scruff scratched her in the most delicious way, but there was nothing more delicious than the way he continued to fondle her boobs. Squeezing, pushing them together, teasing her nipples into two hard peaks.
“See, you need this,” he rasped, his breath hot on her neck. “You want this.”
Arousal had tightened her throat and rendered her vocal cords useless. He had her at a complete disadvantage—here he was, sure of himself, confident that his touch was having the desired effect, and here she was, struck mute, hardly able to remember what sex even felt like, so desperate for release she couldn’t even make her hands work so she could touch him in return.
“Ahem.”
At the sound of someone clearing his throat, Miranda flew off Seth’s lap as if her life depended on it. She swiveled her gaze and found Dylan in the doorway, his short blond hair damp from the shower, lime-green eyes twinkling with amusement.
“Am I interrupting?” he asked casually.
“Yes,” Seth grumbled, at the same time Miranda blurted out, “No, not at all.”
Dylan smiled faintly. “Uh-huh. I see. Anyway,” he glanced at Seth “Cash called. He spoke to the LT, who says everything’s a go for tomorrow, rain or shine.”
“Shit. They’re gonna drop us in the middle of the ocean for that training op even if the storm’s still raging?” Seth sounded anything but excited.
“Yesiree.”
“Well, ain’t that gonna suck.”
As the men hammered out a few more details, Miranda was grateful for the opportunity to collect herself. She discreetly fixed the neckline of her shirt, then ran her fingers through her hair. Were her lips red and swollen from those blistering kisses? And could Dylan see how hard her nipples were?
Oh God. This had been a much-needed interruption. If Dylan hadn’t walked in…shit, what would have happened?
You would have let Seth Masterson fuck you.
She gulped. Wow. That matter-of-fact voice didn’t hold back any punches, did it?
But the voice was wrong. She wouldn’t have slept with Seth just now. Her good judgment would have reared its head and stopped her before she did something so stupid, right?
“I’m turning in,” she burst out, cutting Dylan off midsentence.
Seth was off the couch in a nanosecond, his expression darkening. “It’s only nine thirty.”
“And I have to be up at six. Besides, I’m super exhausted,” she lied.
“Miranda…” She heard the note of warning.
“You two keep chatting,” she said in an overly cheerful voice. She edged toward the doorway. “And thanks again for letting us stay here tonight. I really appreciate it.” Two more steps and she reached the door. “So, um, yeah, g’nite, guys.”
She darted out of the living room before either man could respond. A moment later, she walked into the dark guest room and released a breath of relief. Disaster averted. She’d gotten out of there, and now there was no chance she’d be having sex with Seth tonight.
Her gazed moved to the double bed, the only piece of furniture in the room other than the tall chest of drawers against the adjacent wall. Seth and Dylan took the word minimalist to new extremes, though she suspected it had a lot to do with their military status. She didn’t imagine there to be much clutter or waste in the navy.
Sophie and Jason were sleeping soundly beneath the patterned comforter, lying on their sides on opposite ends of the bed. She smiled in the darkness, then undid the drawstring of the pants Seth had lent her and let the material pool at her feet. Seth’s shir
t hung all the way down to her knees so technically she didn’t need to worry about modesty, but she still went to the dresser to rummage through the neatly folded pile of clothes Dylan had left there. She found her black bikini panties and slipped them on, then climbed onto the bed, doing her best not to wake the twins.
Sophie stirred in her sleep and made a soft sniffling sound, prompting Miranda to lie still. She needed both her kids to get a good night’s sleep.
Because at this point, who knew what chaos tomorrow would bring.
6
Oh, this was bad. It was so very bad Miranda actually felt like throwing up. Choking back the rising nausea, she met the sympathetic eyes of her landlord and said, “How long will the cleanup take?”
“To pump it all out and remove the floors, two days,” he replied in perfect, albeit heavily accented, English. “The crew will discard any contaminated items. Everything will be documented for the purposes of insurance.”
“What about all our personal belongings? When can I come in and catalog everything?”
Marco didn’t answer for a moment, signaling to a passing member of the cleanup crew and calling out something in Italian. The men moving to and from the vans parked at the curb wore an array of protective gear—green hip waders, rubber boots, gloves, masks. You’d think there was a hazardous waste spill in there instead of a few feet of rainwater.
Then again, even one foot of water would have been an utter disaster. Miranda’s heart had dropped to the pit of her stomach when she’d followed Marco into the apartment to survey the damage. Most of the water had been drained, so she’d been able to walk around in her yellow rain boots with no trouble.
No, the real trouble was the fact that anything with the misfortune of touching the floor was soaking wet and most likely unsalvageable. Luckily, most of her clothing was dry—everything in the top dresser drawers had escaped the flood, as did the hanging items in the closet. Even better—her important documents had come out unscathed, since she stored them all in a portable file folder at the top of her closet. And the twins’ room had barely been affected, which was the biggest miracle of all because now she wouldn’t have to replace any of their gazillion toys.
Out of Uniform Box Set: Books 4-6 plus 2 Bonus Novellas Page 7