Tempting SEALs 03: Hidden Agendas

by Lora Leigh

  He was left-handed, she realized. That shouldn't have been sexy.

  "And we're flying to Annapolis before going to D.C." She nodded.

  "I want you to give me an extra change of clothes. Jeans, T-shirt, and a long-sleeved shirt as well as underthings. I want them packed in my emergency pack in case anything goes wrong."

  She stared at him in surprise as he continued to make notations.

  "Why?"

  His head lifted, his green eyes intent. Not cool, but focused.

  "I just told you, in case anything goes wrong."

  "Are you expecting anything to go wrong?" She didn't feel fear. His gaze didn't allow for it.

  "I always expect something to go wrong," he told her before returning to the notepad. "It's called preparation."

  "It's just a party. What could go wrong?"

  "Snipers. Assassins in hiding or posing as friends. A million things could go wrong, Emily. The key to surviving it is in being prepared for it."

  "Daddy said security was flush around the mansion," she pointed out. "How could they get past James Dunmore's guards? They're good men."

  His head lifted again; this time his gaze was piercing.

  "Do you know all those men personally? Well enough to know to the bottom of your soul that they won't blink or take a bribe?"

  "No," she answered slowly.

  "Then you don't trust your security to them. You trust it to me."

  "And when you're gone?" she asked mockingly. All her bodyguards left at some point.

  "Then you use the example I'm giving you and the training you'll receive from me." His head was lowered, missing her look of surprise. "Always be prepared, Emily. Always question others' arrangements for your safety and always, always, trust your instincts." His head lifted again, his gaze probing, before he lowered it and made another note.

  "Why are you willing to tell me this?"

  She watched his lips quirk though his eyes didn't lift again.

  "Consider it my small contribution to your research."

  Her eyes narrowed at the answer.

  "That's not good enough."

  "It's going to have to be." He rose to his feet, snapped the notebook closed, then hauled her from the chair before she could do more than gasp.

  She didn't have time to struggle, even if she wanted to, before his arm latched around her hips, jerked her up against his erection, and his lips stole the kiss he so obviously wanted.

  She melted. Why fight it? She had accepted the night before that she was going to end up in his bed. She was panting to get in his bed, dying for more of the pleasure she had only found in his arms.

  She was in his arms now. Hers twined around his neck, her fingers threading into his hair as he did the same with one hand in hers before tugging her head back farther.

  Whimpers left her throat as colorful bursts of sensation exploded behind her closed eyelids. The arm around her hips lifted her closer as he bent his knees enough to notch

  the hard ridge of his erection between her thighs. And she was lost from there.

  His lips slanted over hers and her lips parted further for him. Her tongue stroked against his aggressively, not content to allow him to set the pace of this first acceptance, this preliminary introduction to the decision she had made late in the night.

  He wasn't tameable. He would probably end up walking away long before she was ready to consider letting him go. But for as long as she could hold him, he would be hers.

  "Jesus, you taste good," he growled as he nipped at her lips before pulling back to stare down at her.

  "You taste better." She licked her tongue over the lower curve of his lips, watching as his eyes flared and lust filled them.

  "You would pick this morning to go all sweet and soft in my arms," he griped, before releasing her with a sigh. "Grab your things, I'll put our dishes in the sink. We have to head out of here."

  "We should take the Harley," she suggested.

  There could be advantages, she thought suddenly, to letting him into her bed. Her life could get more exciting.

  "Not on your life." He disabused her of that idea quickly. "We'll take the Bronco. It's secure."

  "Can't outmaneuver the bad guys on your bike then? I understand."

  "No, I can't outmaneuver bullets when I don't know which direction they could come from," he informed her. "The Harley is for times when it's safe enough to forgo protection. You're not there yet."

  Emily paused and stared back at him in surprise.

  "I'm not going to argue with you, Emily. I always have a reason for saying no. Realize that now. Because the day could come when I won't have time for explanations." A grin tugged at his lips as she watched him closely.

  "I'll try to do that." She finally nodded as she wondered who the hell Kell Kreiger was, and why he was so different from the bodyguards her father usually managed to acquire.

  "Do more than try. Find enough control to make it happen. I have to be able to trust you when things go from sugar to shit, darlin'. Let's make an effort to ensure I have that trust if that time comes."

  She watched him closely then. Seeing more than the man she wanted to sleep with, seeing more than the hired muscle her father had brought in to protect her. She saw a man. She saw shadows in his eyes and realized how often she had caught the flash of hidden demons lurking beneath the surface.

  What had made him a man strong enough to realize that she didn't want to be patted on the head and put on a shelf?

  "I'll do that," she finally answered. "I'll make the effort."

  He nodded abruptly. "That's all I ask. Now grab your gear and let's get on the road. The pilot flying us into Annapolis has his own schedule that he can't deviate from. So we need to accommodate him."

  She was already moving, heading to the bedroom for the large overnight bag she had packed with a change of clothing. While she was there she grabbed the other change of clothes he had requested before pulling her purse from the dresser and heading back into the living room.

  He was waiting for her. He took the change of clothes, stuffed them into a plastic bag then secured it with waterproof tape before shoving it into the black pack he carried along with a regular-sized duffel bag.

  "Your neighbor, Ian Richards, is riding in with us," he announced as he led the way to the door.

  "My neighbor Ian?" She stopped and stared at him in confusion. "The blond in the back condo? The one who likes to flash his hard abs at Kira? Let me guess. He's your partner?"

  "That's the one." His voice rasped with a hint of male displeasure. "You're not supposed to notice my partner's hard abs."

  "They were hard to miss."

  His eyes darkened, his brows lowering, as he deactivated the alarm and unlocked the door. He looked... jealous. Emily felt a surge of excitement at the prospect. She hadn't anticipated that.

  "So, was your partner Daddy's idea too? And was it Daddy's idea not to tell me he was there?"

  "He's additional protection, nothing more." He shrugged.

  Emily sighed. "At least he's nice looking. If I have to have trained escorts it helps if they're good eye candy."

  "Eye candy, huh?" he muttered as he motioned her out. "I'll have to smash his face a little and fix that."

  Emily looked at the face in question, attached to the hard body dressed in jeans and a cotton shirt, and turned to smirk back at Kell.

  "Shame on you," she said, pitching her voice low enough that only he could hear. "I promise I won't molest him. You don't get the same promise."

  "Vixen," he accused her roughly as he reset the alarm and closed the door as he stepped out. Locking it quickly, he turned back to her, let his hot gaze rake over her. "I might have to spank you for being so insolent."

  She grinned as she tucked the handle of her overnight bag over her shoulder and winked back at him suggestively.

  "Spankings only make me worse."

  "That's what I was hoping." He grinned smugly. "That just makes it a hell of a lot mor
e pleasurable to give it, sweetheart. Didn't you know that?"

  "Pervert." She laughed, feeling something lighten inside her as she headed for the Bronco where the other SEAL waited.

  "Wench."

  This was going to be fun.

  But hours later, she wondered if it would be nearly as much fun as the flight from Atlanta to Annapolis had been. She had ridden in a Black Hawk. Not just any Black Hawk, but the newest model, which her father had informed her was supposed to be radically more efficient and militarily progressive.

  She was still flying when they landed and the pilot gave her the thumbs-up.

  "Ma'am, thank you for providing support." He flashed her a bright smile as she sat in the copilot's seat, and she had to keep herself from bouncing. "I'll give you back to Lieutenant Kreiger now."

  The door beside her opened, and Kell stared up at her with that almost hidden smile of his, his expression rueful as he gripped her waist and lifted her to the tarmac.

  "Did you see me?" She squealed, bouncing, certain she was still flying as her hands gripped his shoulders and she laughed with a vibrance she hadn't felt in years. "That is so incredibly cool, Kell. He even answered all my questions about the instruments and everything. Can you believe he let me sit there?"

  She hugged him. She couldn't help it. But his arms returned the embrace, strong, powerful arms that surrounded her with warmth and approval.

  "I saw, little fly girl," he said, laughing back. "Come on, the limo is waiting and Lieutenant Greary has places to go."

  He saluted the pilot before closing the copilot's door and maneuvered her so that he and Ian seemed to surround her clear to the limo.

  Ian moved into the front with the chauffer as Kell opened the back door and helped her in, staring around the Navy yard with narrowed eyes.

  Getting into the limo, he closed the door, raised the partition between the driver and the back, and watched Emily with a hunger that immediately had her breath tightening in her chest.

  She was exhilarated from the flight but the look in Kell's eyes drove that excitement from her and replaced it with a sudden, overwhelming hunger nearly impossible to resist.

  "We have approximately forty-five minutes before I have to explain to your father what you were doing in the cockpit of the Navy's newest baby instead of the transport he ordered," he growled. "I want payment before I take the ass-chewing that's coming."

  As he spoke, he moved close to her, crowding her, forcing her to lie back on the leather seat as he came over her like a hungry predator determined to devour a meal.

  And he was in a devouring mood. A hungry mood. His lips didn't catch her lips first as she expected though. Instead, his teeth raked over her neck as he parted her thighs and pressed the thick bulge of his cock between them.

  Her hips jerked as pleasure swamped her. Determined to keep her unruly hunger under control—after all, her father was waiting for her at the town house—her fingers dug into his hard biceps and she turned her head to the side.

  But the pleasure only grew. His lips, teeth, and tongue built a fire that began to whip through her bloodstream. Rough velvet and heated sharp tingles resulted from the stinging kisses, until she was desperate to feel it at her lips. To consume him. To taste him.

  "Oh God, Kell, I can't stand that," she whimpered as he locked his fingers in her hair and held her in place, his lips trailing from her neck to her collarbone as the fingers of his other hand tugged at the loose neckline of her summer top.

  The light weave of the stretchy threads gave easily, revealing one swollen mound, and the lace of her sexy half bra.

  "God, I love your breasts," he rasped as his lips followed his fingers.

  Emily would have shrieked with the incredible pleasure of his tongue swiping over her nipple if she'd had the breath. Instead, she gasped, going completely still beneath him to make sense of the incredible sensations whipping through her.

  His tongue ringed her nipple slowly before licking over it. That made her hot. Incredibly hot. Then, his lips surrounded the peak, drew it into his mouth, and began to suck.

  Her hips jerked from the powerful punch of pleasure that sang from her nipple to her womb. Her pussy drove into the hard ridge of his cock, then she paused to writhe. Not that she could help writhing. The pressure on her clit was incredible, almost enough. If she could just move into the right position, if she could just find the right rhythm—

  "Here you go, sweetheart." His hand clamped on her hip, and as his lips returned to her nipple, his hips began to move.

  It was incredible. It was a shock of driving heat each time he thrust against her, but it was never enough. Her clit became a hard, swollen knot of sensation. Her nipples began to burn and she couldn't touch him enough.

  Tugging at the shirt he wore, she struggled to reach bare skin, then gave up and jerked at the neckline instead, dragging it aside so her lips could move to his neck. Once there, she proved what an apt pupil she could be.

  She ate at his flesh, nibbled, and drew her tongue over the tough flesh throbbing with life before she let her teeth rake over the pounding vein. The caresses were instinctive. Because the firm, heated draw of his mouth on her nipple was too good, too good to think. She could only feel. And burn.

  "Kell. It's so good," she moaned against his neck as he drew the material of her blouse back into place before revealing her other breast.

  "Damned good," he muttered against the flushed mound. "So good I should be shot for starting this here."

  Her head tipped back on a cry as his teeth raked over her nipple and his hands drew her shirt up, pushing the material past both breasts as he stared down at her with wicked, knowing eyes.

  "Tell me what you want," he groaned.

  Her lips parted on a gasp. "What?"

  "Where do you want my mouth? Tell me, Emily."

  'Tell you? I want your mouth everywhere, Kell," she cried out fiercely. "I don't care where you put it. Just put it someplace."

  She couldn't get enough of his wild kisses, his caresses, or his cock rubbing between her thighs, his goal hampered by the jeans they both wore.

  "Tell me where, Emily," he commanded then, his voice darker with passion now. "Tell me what you want."

  What she wanted. Her tongue touched her lips as she tried to drag in enough air. She couldn't seem to get enough oxygen to her brain. Just enough to clear the fog of hunger.

  "I want you to take me," she whispered.

  His eyes flared as a grimace twisted his features.

  "Not in a fucking limo," he groaned. "Hell, I need more time than I have for that."

  His head dropped between her breasts, his lips moving between them, his tongue caressing her with little laps that had her holding his head to her, needing more.

  "Kell?" She felt the loosening of her jeans, his fingers parting the material.

  "I have to feel you." His fingers slid inside. "Just for a minute."

  Callused flesh rasped over her, slid beneath the band of her panties, and before she could prepare herself, touched the naked folds of her pussy.

  "God, I love your pretty naked pussy." He nipped delicately at the side of her breast as she arched and cried out his name again.

  His fingers slid through the heavily saturated flesh, sliding erotically around her clit as she arched and cried out breathlessly.

  The shock of pleasure stole what breath remained in her lungs. Then his fingers slid lower, found the entrance to the desperately aching flesh below as his thumb found her clit again, and rocketing sensations began to explode along her nerve endings.

  She could only hang on for the ride. His lips moved past her breasts, licking and kissing her stomach, her abdomen, then moving to the parted material of her jeans as his hand drove her insane.

  She wanted to touch him, but she couldn't pull her senses together enough to figure out how. She needed to scream, but she couldn't drag enough air into her lungs.

  All she could do was writhe beneath the fingers gently pro
bing, pressing against the entrance and sending a shock of heat and pleasure exploding through her system.

  When they slid inside, stretching her, filling the entrance, her womb spasmed with an impending orgasm.

  "Kell." She twisted beneath him desperately. "Oh God. More."

  "More," he muttered against the flesh above her mound. "God yes, more. The scent of your pussy is making me crazy. Emily."

  He was jerking, tugging at her jeans, his thumb sliding from her clit only to be replaced by his suckling mouth and licking tongue.