by Tawny Weber
“But you’re more than that,” she said, as if reading his thoughts. She reached across the table and lightly traced her fingers over the back of his hand. “You’re a SEAL.”
“You knew that already,” he reminded her.
“There’s knowing, like in my head. Facts. Then there’s knowing, like how it makes me feel in my body when I think about it.”
Phillip wasn’t the type to use his career to seduce women any more than he was the type to use his family name. But the look in Frankie’s eyes was addictive. What he saw there was hot admiration, respect and a whole lot of lust.
He’d promised himself that this evening wasn’t going to lead to anything. Yeah, he’d considered ending it in a kiss, but that was ingrained in his DNA. For most guys, a date equaled a kiss. But that was it for tonight. No sex.
He mentally repeated that vow.
No sex.
Then he looked at Frankie.
Yeah.
He emptied his glass of water.
That wasn’t going to happen.
8
OH, MY.
Frankie had no idea how she got through the meal.
She’d never remember a single thing she ate, and she wasn’t even sure if she’d had dessert or not.
She knew they must have driven home from the restaurant, but she didn’t recall a thing about the trip.
Between the moment they’d first sat down—when Phillip had pressed his mouth to her palm, sending shivers of desire through her—and the moment he’d unlocked the front door of the Banks house, it was all a blur.
But now, standing on his front porch as he pushed the door open and gestured her inside, everything around her came to life. She wondered if she closed her eyes if she’d see the colors speeding past as time caught up with them.
“Is this your contingency plan?” she asked, setting her purse on the small marble table in the entryway before giving him a smile. Her hands went to the buttons of her evening coat, the satin fabric icy cold in contrast to the fire raging inside her.
Phillip’s fingers covered hers, gently moving them aside and taking over the task of unbuttoning.
Frankie hoped her gulp wasn’t audible.
He was so commanding.
So sexy.
And so overwhelming when he focused on her like he was. His green eyes were like lasers, watching her every move.
“This is one of my contingency plans,” he acknowledged, his focus on her buttons now. With each one he released, his gaze became more intent. Frankie wouldn’t be surprised if she climaxed right there in the foyer, just from that look alone.
“You have more than one contingency plan?” That he’d put that much thought into kissing her was so sexy. What else had he planned? And how long would it take him to get her coat off so she could find out?
“I think the time for planning is finished,” he told her, his hands spreading her coat open. His gaze was as potent as a caress as it lingered on her breasts before sliding downward. He pushed the fabric off her shoulders, catching her coat before it hit the floor, and draped it over the chair next to her purse.
“It’s time for action now,” he said decisively.
Oh, baby.
Frankie knew firsthand how good he was at the action. And that had been when she’d done all the planning, leaving him in the role of spontaneously responding. She, on the other hand, had thought she was prepared for all the possibilities tonight might offer.
But she’d had no clue.
“What kind of action do you have in mind?” she asked, mentally wincing at the inanity of that question. All it’d needed was big boy tacked on the end to qualify as a cheesy pickup line.
Clearly she needed training in contingency planning.
“Would you like a drink?” he asked. He tucked his fingers under the bodice of her dress, just there where the neckline angled from her shoulders to her breasts.
“I’m not very thirsty,” she whispered.
Frankie’s breath caught and her stomach tightened. She didn’t know her next move here. Before, she’d just gone with the fantasy. But this time?
This time—tonight? This wasn’t a fantasy.
This was real.
She shivered.
Phillip hooked a finger in her dress, his knuckle sinking into her cleavage. His eyes locked on hers as he used his finger to pull her closer.
“Hungry?” he asked, his voice low.
“We just came from dinner,” she reminded him, her eyes on his mouth. His lips were so close.
“So we did,” he murmured before brushing those lips over hers.
Soft. So soft.
His tongue slid along the seam of her mouth, teasing one corner and then the other.
Delicious. So delicious.
His hands were warm on her back, his body hard against hers.
He leaned back, just enough to look into her eyes. He must have liked what he saw there, because he gave an infinitesimal nod.
“Upstairs.”
His quiet words weren’t a question. She wasn’t even sure they were a suggestion. To her body, they were a command.
One she couldn’t refuse.
“Take me,” she suggested, her smile naughty as she tilted her head toward the staircase.
“As soon as we get upstairs,” he promised. For now, he took her hand. Frankie focused on his butt as he led the way up the stairs. The man had such a nice ass.
At the top of the stairs, he angled right, then left again. How big was this place? Then he stopped. His hand on the knob, he gave her a questioning look.
As if she’d turn and run now.
Even if she wanted to, Frankie didn’t think she could find her way out.
Which meant she was here to stay.
At least for tonight.
She tilted her head toward the door in answer.
Phillip swung it open with a push of his hand.
“I’ve never seen your bedroom,” she said.
He didn’t give her a chance to see it now either.
Three steps inside, he had her back against the wall, his body pressed against her as his fingers tunneled into her hair. His hands cupping the back of her head, Phillip angled her face for his kiss.
His mouth was wild.
His tongue raced, as if he were in a contest to see how fast he could turn her on. Two seconds was all it took, Frankie decided.
He was voracious.
And so was she.
Needing to feel his warm, hard flesh, Frankie pulled at his shirt. She heard a ping. Button? She didn’t care, except that it gave her the access she’d been searching for.
She groaned against his mouth when her fingers found his chest. She scraped her fingers through the light dusting of hair, following the trail down to his belt.
“So good,” she panted against his mouth. “You make me feel so good.”
“I promise I’m going to make you feel so much better.”
“I like a man who has the confidence to make a promise like that.” She laughed, her head falling back against the wall while he scattered kisses across her jawline.
“I never fail,” he assured her, his hands wrapping around her waist before sliding up the tight leather to cup her breasts. “Especially not a woman as incredible as you.”
Oh.
Frankie melted. She couldn’t help it. She was pretty sure that was the sweetest thing a guy had ever said to her.
“I almost swallowed my tongue when you dropped your coat, standing there in this sexy leather getup,” he said, pushing her hair aside and kissing the sensitive flesh beneath her ear.
Heat coiled low in her belly.
He nipped at her earlobe, sending that heat surging through h
er body with the intensity of a small orgasm.
Frankie whimpered, then desperately grabbed on to control.
When she went over, she wanted him with her.
She needed to know she’d driven him as wild as he drove her.
Which meant a little teasing was in order.
“You like? And I was worried about wearing this dress,” she murmured as his lips meandered down her throat and over her shoulder.
“Afraid my blood pressure couldn’t take it?” he asked, his words vibrating against her skin, sending echoes of delight through her body.
Frankie slid her hand down his chest, over the delicious planes of his flat abs, then along his zipper. With a soft moan of approval, she cupped the hard length of his erection as it strained the fabric.
“I’d say your blood pressure is doing just fine.” She laughed breathlessly.
She felt the cool air, then the smooth wall against her bare back before she realized he’d found her zipper, too. Using his lips, he pulled one cap sleeve down to bare her shoulder.
“A testament to this dress,” he told her, pushing the other sleeve off, too. The weight of the leather sent the dress plummeting to her feet. “Oh, yeah, I love this dress.”
“I’m so glad.” Her laugh ended on a moan when Phillip’s hand cupped her breast, his fingers hot through the red lace of her bra. “I worried that you’d think it was too out there. It’s definitely not a country-club dress.”
“I’ve been out with women who wear country-club dresses. I like yours much better. I like you much better.”
His words broke through the sensual haze surrounding her, making Frankie smile. She combed her fingers through his short, silky hair, knees trembling when he knelt in front of her.
“Why?” she asked. But before the word left her lips, she’d totally forgotten what she was asking.
God, he felt so good. She stroked her palms over his shoulders, reveling in the muscles there. The man was incredible. She could spend hours, days even, exploring his body.
“You’re out of the ordinary. Different.” His lips left a hot, damp trail down her belly, his fingers hooking the elastic of her panties on either side and sliding them down her legs.
“You’re like nobody I’ve ever known,” he said, his breath warm on her thigh. “The perfect escape.”
Was that a good thing? Bells rang out a warning somewhere in the back of Frankie’s head. But then Phillip’s mouth reached its destination, his shoulders pressing her legs apart a little more, and she forgot everything.
Everything but how he made her feel.
* * *
GOD, SHE FELT GOOD.
Phillip looked up the length of Frankie’s lush body, blown away at the intensity of his reaction to her.
Wanting hers to be just as strong, he grazed his lips up her thigh, inching closer and closer to heaven with each kiss. Her fingers kneaded his shoulder. He could feel the tension in her body, the shaking of her knees.
His eyes locked on her face, he slid his tongue over her swollen folds. Circling, teasing, then sucking.
She gasped. Her face was tight, her legs trembling.
He pressed his hand against her butt for support. Then, unable to resist any longer, Phillip slipped his tongue inside, his free hand slipping between them to tease her bud.
She tasted so good.
His tongue swirled, plunged, savored.
Need pounded through him. Still holding her upright with one hand, he swept the other up her body to cup her breast, his fingers teasing her nipple through the lace.
She flew over.
“Ooh.” Her pleasured gasp rang out, her fingers gripping his hair as her body convulsed. His tongue slowed, prolonging her satisfaction. She shuddered twice more, each cry of delight sliding over his body like a caress.
He felt her knees give way.
Before she sank an inch, he was on his feet, sweeping her into his arms.
“Wow,” she breathed, her head falling against his shoulder, one arm around the back of his neck while the other pushed his shirt out of the way to tease its way over his chest.
He shoved the covers aside before laying her across his bed. Frankie angled herself onto one elbow. A luscious vision in nothing but a red lace bra, she gave him a languorous look.
His eyes locked on hers and he tore his clothes off, pausing only to grab a condom from the bedside table before joining her.
She lay back, her red hair spread over his pillowcase, her hands racing over his body, nails scraping down his chest, over his stomach. Then she grasped his erection with her fingers.
Phillip saw stars.
Control. He wasn’t going to lose control.
He reached between her breasts, unhooking the fabric of her bra, forcing her to release him so he could slide it off.
“Gorgeous,” he murmured, skimming his fingers over her silken shoulder and across the swell of her breast before rubbing her pebbled nipple.
She gasped.
The sound flipped his switch.
And blew his control all to hell.
Phillip’s hands roamed over her body. Cupping, grasping. He took her mouth in huge, ravenous bites. Her fingers dug into his chest. She wrapped one leg around his, her boot sliding over his thigh, the heel digging into his butt.
That she was still wearing her boots sent him over the edge.
Crazed with need, he barely remembered the condom before angling himself over her.
Frankie’s breath was labored, her hair wild and her eyes glazed. Poised over her body, arms rigid, Phillip reveled in the sight of her, watching her face as he sought entry in her welcoming heat.
He wasn’t a religious man, but he was sure this was what heaven felt like.
He sank into Frankie’s warmth, watching the delight and excitement dance over her face. She was so expressive. So alive.
His body clenched.
So wet. So tight. So damned good.
Her fingers clutched at him, heels digging into the small of his back as Frankie met each thrust with a whimper.
Phillip leaned down, sucking one cherry nipple into his mouth.
Frankie bucked, arching her back as she cried out.
The feel of her contractions, the sound of her pleasure, the sight of her gratification were too much.
Phillip plunged deeper.
Once.
Twice.
Then he exploded.
His breath labored, the power of his orgasm still echoing through his body, he shifted his weight off Frankie. He took a second to deal with the condom and her boots. He pulled the blankets over them, then wrapped his arms around her.
Still trembling, she pressed her body against his, her leg wrapping around his thigh and her fingers tight against his back.
Even as her breath evened out and her body grew heavy with sleep, she still clung to him.
Phillip had never had anyone want him so much.
She’d climaxed three times. He’d counted.
Yet she still acted as if she couldn’t get enough of him.
Depleted and a little emotionally overwhelmed, he willed himself to follow Frankie to sleep.
As he drifted off, he admitted to himself that for most of his life, his value had been as a Banks, then later as a SEAL. Those were his only identities.
With Frankie, he was just a man.
It was enough to blow his mind.
Burying his face in her hair, he breathed her in.
Just before sleep engulfed him, he realized that if he wasn’t careful he might actually start believing in that fairy tale called love.
* * *
FRANKIE WOKE SLOWLY, reluctantly, not wanting her delicious erotic dream to end. As long as her eyes we
re closed, she could convince herself that she hadn’t dreamed the night. She didn’t doubt the three orgasms her body assured her it had enjoyed. But she’d awoken many a time after dreams so hot, so intense, she was sure they were the real thing.
And every single time she’d found herself alone in bed.
She did appreciate her vivid imagination providing her with such delightful nighttime entertainment. But she was pretty sure she’d cry if she opened her eyes and discovered that her date with Phillip had been but a dream.
Appreciating the vast merits of avoidance, Frankie threw one arm over her eyes to block out any future sunlight, then snuggled deeper into the pillow, ready to drift off again.
Then she felt it.
Excitement stirred in her belly. She barely dared to breathe as she slowly slid her hand down along the side of her body to see what was brushing against her hip.
Was it...?
Her fingertip slid across hard velvet.
Yep.
That was a penis.
Her arm still thrown over her eyes, she slowly turned her head to peek. And saw a chest. A hard, sculpted, gorgeous chest.
Oh, yeah.
It was Phillip’s penis.
She spread her fingers and looked up.
Awake, Phillip Banks was gorgeous but a little intimidating.
Asleep, he looked like an angel—albeit, a warrior angel. One of those winged guardians, ever vigilant and ready to do battle even in his sleep.
Suddenly, his face tightened. As if her thoughts had trigged a battle only he could see, he drew back his lips in a ferocious grimace. She felt rather than heard his moan. As if whatever it was hurt too much for him to give it voice.
Frankie’s breath knotted in her chest. Wanting to comfort him but terrified of setting loose whatever he was fighting, she reached up to lightly graze the backs of her fingers over his chest.
His face relaxed instantly. The scowl faded and his breathing evened out.
Frankie frowned.
Had she imagined the pain?
As stealthily as she’d first reached out, she slid her hand back. Her heart still pounding, she turned her head away from Phillip.
What had he gone through that would torture him like that?
Until now, there had been no sign of the aching misery she’d seen in his eyes that night in Las Vegas. She’d actually convinced herself she’d imagined it. That she’d dreamed it up as an excuse to believe he might need her.