Tempting SEALs 03: Hidden Agendas

by Lora Leigh

  Emily's fingers locked in Kell's hair. Her hips arched and as she felt his tongue moving slowly, too damned slowly, around her clit, she began to beg.

  "I need to come, Kell."

  He lapped at her clit with a slow, long lick.

  "Oh God. More. Harder."

  His lips puckered and he kissed it gently, almost pushing her over the edge.

  "Please don't tease—please."

  He licked around it, causing it to tighten further, to throb in need. The blood was racing through her veins now, perspiration slickening her body as she writhed beneath him. She was dying for more, reaching, pressing again?: his mouth as her hands tightened in his hair to drag him closer.

  She wanted to be rid of the jeans. She wanted to be naked in his arms and covered by his weight. Instead, the denim material around her thighs held her in place as his mouth tormented her. Tortured her. As his fingers stroked, stretched the opening, and had her lifting, trying to force them deeper.

  She needed them deeper. Agonizing hunger resonated from the depths of her pussy, tightening the muscles, spasming through them with a force that had her flying higher. faster, than she had in the Black Hawk.

  "Kell, please," she tried to scream his name. "Please. I'm dying—I need—more."

  The wail that left her throat was one of exquisite agony. Pleasure too sharp, too fierce to be endured. Yet she endured it. Ecstasy ruptured through her, piercing her bloodstream and burning through her body with a force that tightened her body and left her shuddering in the aftermath.

  Chapter Twelve

  Once he got his dick inside her, he was going to kill them both before he managed to satisfy the hunger clawing at his balls.

  Kell fixed her clothes quickly, drew her into a sitting position, and breathed out a shaky breath as he moved into the opposite seat and stared back at her.

  At least the panel between the driver and the seats was soundproof. Damn, that cry that had come from her had nearly had him coming in his jeans. Long, drawn out, aching with pleasure and need combined.

  Looking through the windows, he quickly estimated how much time was left before they arrived at the house then ran his fingers through his hair, attempting to restore some kind of order to it as Emily pulled a comb from her purse and quickly straightened hers.

  "Want me to do yours?" She flashed him a saucy grin as she held the comb out.

  "Go for it." He loved daring her.

  The smile that curled her lips had his thighs tightening and his fingers digging into the seat beneath him as she moved across the short distance and straddled his legs before sitting on his lap.

  "Brave girl," he growled playfully. "It's all I can do not to tear those jeans off you and show you just how tenuous my control is right now."

  "Hmm." She drew the teeth of the comb through his hair, using her free hand to smooth over the strands as she worked. "Just imagine the surprise Daddy's butler would get when he opened the door for us."

  Kell grimaced. He knew that butler. Seaman Rogers had been with the senator's SEAL team at the time the senator had been wounded. Several years later Rogers had been taken captive. Before his team could rescue him both legs had been broken, several ribs cracked, and the fingers of one hand nearly pulverized.

  Once he healed and took a discharge, Stanton had hired him. The other man had been with the senator ever since. Nearly twelve years now. His wife kept the town house ready for occupancy and both of them adored the senator and his daughter.

  "There, you're all nice and tidy. If it weren't for that hickey on your neck, Daddy would never know I'd been molesting you in the limo."

  His gaze caught hers. There was a hint of fear in her eyes.

  "I didn't mean to do it," she whispered as she moved back to her own seat and rubbed her hands nervously on her jean-clad thighs. "Maybe he won't notice."

  "Probably not." Bullshit. Kell knew that was the first thing her father would notice. "But that's not as much a problem as the one on your neck. And I did mean to put it there."

  Her hand flew to her neck then she dug into her purse, pulled her mirror free, and stared at it in shock.

  It wasn't blatantly obvious. It was small, the slightest marring of her creamy flesh from the bite of his teeth. It would be gone within hours. But they didn't have hours.

  "We're dead." She swallowed tightly. "This is bad, Kell. Very bad."

  "Yep, we've broken several laws," he agreed mockingly. Look at it this way, at least he can't tell I had my mouth buried in your pussy."

  "Stop trying to shock me." She snapped the mirror closed and shoved it back into her purse. "What is your deal? Why are you so insistent that he know we have anything between us? This is insane."

  "Why would I want to hide it?" He crossed his arms over his chest and stared back at her thoughtfully.

  Her head dropped back against the seat as she stared at the upholstered ceiling.

  "We are so screwed. He's going to demand you marry me, I'll refuse, and he'll have you demoted to ship's barnacle remover or something."

  His lips twitched. "I hardly think so. He's a senator, not an admiral."

  Her head lifted slowly. "You forget, my godfather is an admiral, Kell," she whispered in horror. "And he'll be at the town house."

  "Admiral Holloran." He nodded. "Don't worry, he likes my brash sense of humor."

  "You should really be more worried about this."

  "I'm not worried, Emily." Because he had every intention of marrying her, just as soon as she came around to the fact that it was going to happen.

  A man didn't force a woman like Emily, he gently led her. Like the vixen she was, she'd dig her heels in and stubbornly refuse to breathe if someone were to try to make her do it.

  There was no doubt that he and the senator, and most likely the admiral, would be having a hell of a conversation later though.

  "I'm not marrying you!" she snapped. "I don't know you. I don't even know if I like you."

  "But you'll go to bed with me?" He arched his brow mockingly.

  The question had her pausing. "Well, I like you fine when you're kissing me rather than playing games with me. Don't think you have me fooled, Kell. Whatever your agenda is, I'll figure it out. I always do."

  He had no doubt she wouldn't.

  "No agenda, sweet pea." He smiled back at her, not bothering to hide the fact that he was amused by the predicament she found herself in.

  Hell, she should have gotten her father in hand years ago. She had the ability to do it. And if she didn't learn how now, then Kell was going to have to. Then he would have to soothe her ruffled feelings as well as the senator's. And it would be a hell of a lot harder for him to soothe a senator's ruffled feelings than it would be for her.

  It was barely eleven in the morning when the limo pulled up in front of the town house. Ian and the driver were out first, flanking the door as Kell opened it and stepped out.

  "We have a clear," Ian murmured, touching the earwig communicator he wore.

  Kell nodded then gripped Emily's arm and helped her from the limo before moving behind her and following her up the steps to the senator's brownstone town house.

  The door opened immediately and Rogers's tall, imposing form slid into view. He shielded Emily's side as she whisked into the house, entering the large foyer and staring around with a sense of regret.

  She had left here five years ago and moved to Atlanta to get away from the stifling atmosphere of her father's over-protectiveness. Now, she was returning, and the smothering feeling that had driven her out was coming back with a vengeance.

  "Emily." Her father stepped from the study at the far end of the foyer, a smile creasing his face as he moved toward her. Behind him, Commodore Samuel Tiberian Holloran stepped into view, bringing a smile to Emily's face.

  Uncle Sam. He wasn't really her uncle, but he was her godfather, her father's best friend, and once an ally she could depend upon.

  Behind her, Kell and Ian came to attention, only rel
axing marginally when her father and the admiral returned their salutes.

  "Hello, Daddy. I thought you weren't staying here?" She stared around the foyer.

  When her father wasn't in semi permanent residence, then Fay didn't come in from the little house they lived in behind the town house. But there she was, her white apron brilliant against the dark blue slacks and matching blouse she wore.

  "I'm not, Emily," he assured her. "But I thought you might need Fay's assistance while you're here."

  He gripped her shoulders firmly, planted a kiss on her brow then drew back with a frown, his gaze going to her neck before looking behind her.

  "Say a word and I'll walk out," she informed him quietly, barely keeping her voice from shaking. "You start a fight in front of Uncle Sam and I'll never forgive you."

  He gazed back down at her, his eyes narrowing as his lips tightened in anger.

  She could feel the mark burning on her neck. It was a declaration. Even as she had checked it in the limo she had known what Kell intended it to be. A declaration of ownership. A male brand of possession.

  "I mean it, Daddy." She stared right back, feeling the dread that began to rise inside her. "I won't have it."

  "Emily Paige, girl, you're as pretty as a picture." The admiral stopped beside her father, giving them both a stern look before he pulled Emily into his arms for a quick hug.

  "And you're as handsome as always, Uncle Sam." She tried to smile back.

  He cut quite a dashing figure for a man who had just celebrated his fifty-fifth birthday. He was trim, his hazel eyes as sharp as ever, though his dark brown hair was now completely gray.

  "Of course I'm as handsome as always, unlike your old man here." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at her father. "I'm only getting better with age."

  Emily's lips twitched before flattening at the look in her father's eyes.

  "Has my dress arrived?" She turned to Fay to ask the question.

  "Everything arrived yesterday, Miss Emily," she answered, her gaze taking in the look on her father's face as well. "I put everything in your bedroom, and Lieutenant Kreiger's dress blues arrived as well. They're in the room beside yours."

  Emily nodded sharply. "I need to call Wilma Dunmore and make certain everything is running smoothly. I'll have to thank her for taking care of this for me."

  "Go ahead and do that, baby," her father said, his voice tight. "I'll talk to Kreiger about the information we've gotten so far."

  She just bet that was what he wanted to talk to him about.

  "Don't cause me to leave, Daddy." She didn't bother to disguise the warning in her voice. "I don't want to let you down this weekend, but I would."

  "Emily." Kell stepped behind her, his hands settling on her shoulders in a move that she considered highly unwise. And to make matters worse he kissed the top of her head gently.

  The commodore's brows lifted to his hairline as he glanced back at her father.

  "For a smart man, you're starting to make me believe you have very little sense of self-preservation, Kell," she snapped, stepping away from him. "If you'll excuse me, I have things to take care of. If you want to be stupid, you can do it all on your own."

  Pulling away from him, she took her overnight bag and purse from the chauffer before heading to the stairs.

  "Daddy." She paused at the first step and stared back at him intently. "Do you love me?"

  A frown darkened his brow. "Don't pull that on me, Emily. It's beneath you."

  "Do you love me, Daddy?"

  "You know I do." He glowered back at her. "Then you won't make any threats or demands, will you?" His frown darkened. "I never make threats."

  "No demands or ultimatums, or the next time you try to put a bodyguard in my home, I'll call the police. Are we clear?"

  His jaw flexed in frustration. "We're clear."

  "Good." She nodded sharply, praying that the shaking in her knees couldn't be seen. "I'll take care of the party then. We'll talk again before I leave."

  She heard his irritated grunt as she moved unhurriedly up the stairs. Reaching the landing, she stared back down at him for long seconds before walking to her bedroom, entering and closing the door behind her.

  There, she breathed out roughly and pressed her hand tightly to her stomach. She was starting to think she might have been better off staying at home after all.

  Kell restrained his smile as the senator turned a dark look on him. The admiral's lips were twitching, if he wasn't mistaken, and his hazel eyes were alight with mirth.

  "Lieutenant Kreiger, consider yourself at home in this house." The admiral nodded to Kell's "at ease" stance.

  "This is my home, Sam," the senator growled. "You don't have that authority."

  "I outrank you," the admiral reminded him in amusement.

  "My home!" the senator pushed out between clenched teeth.

  Sam Holloran shook his head with a smirk. "Look at it this way." He indicated Kell's neck. "She can give better than she gets. Stop acting like a momma bear with a cub, Richard. She's a woman, not a teenybopper."

  Richard's face flushed as he glared back at Kell.

  "I intend to marry her, Richard." Kell kept his voice carefully low, but no less firm. It wouldn't do for Emily to hear him.

  Both men stared back at him in surprise now.

  "You do?" the senator asked with wary hope. "Does she know that?"

  "No. She doesn't. And I'd prefer she didn't know until the time's right."

  There was no sense in keeping her father's pride inflamed by holding back the information from him. She was still his daughter, and Kell could imagine how he would have felt if a man had dared to so blatantly touch his daughter without the benefit of an engagement or wedding band. Hell, come to think of it, Kell barely managed to restrain his wince. It would be hard to see such a mark on his daughter's neck if she were married. If he had a daughter.

  The senator and admiral exchanged concerned looks.

  "Into my office." Richard Stanton turned on his heel and led the way to the open office doors. "If we're going to discuss this, then I'll be damned if I want her to hear it. I didn't like that look in her eye." He muttered the last sentence with an edge of confusion. "That girl has never talked to me like that."

  "She's growing up, Richard." The admiral's gaze was approving as he gave Kell a small nod.

  "She's learning bad habits," the senator snapped back, before leveling a piercing look at Kell. "And I have a feeling it's your fault."

  "I don't doubt it a bit, Senator," Kell agreed with no small amount of pride.

  Hell yes, it was his fault. He didn't want a woman too scared of her own shadow to survive while he was on a mission. Nor did he want a woman who couldn't add a measure of common sense and precaution to her own defense.

  Emily would always have resources to fall back on, but he wanted to be certain she could get to those friends if trouble arose and he was out of the country.

  It wouldn't be easy, working the senator to a place where he understood that his daughter was never going to allow them to wrap her in cotton batting and place her on a shelf.

  He wanted her to be strong. He needed her to be strong. For his own sanity.

  He stood silently now as Emily's father closed the office doors carefully behind them, then turned to stare at Kell with narrow-eyed intent as the admiral walked to the wet bar on the other side of the room.

  "You think you can make her marry you?" Stanton asked in disbelief.

  "I won't have to make her, Richard."

  The senator shook his head. "You obviously don't know Emily well enough. I told you, you should have spent more time here at the house with us."

  Kell considered, for the briefest second, pulling his punches with the other man. But it was obvious the senator had no intentions of doing the same.

  "No, Richard, it's obvious you don't know your daughter," he said instead. "She's not a timid little girl. If you don't loosen the reins she'll get herself killed trying
to have her freedom and satisfy you as well. Give her what she needs and she'll settle down. She'll think about her safety rather than making certain you don't catch her having a little fun."

  "A little fun?" The senator growled ominously. "You mean, the kind of fun that found her in a strip club, giving some strange man a lap dance?"

  "I don't consider myself that strange," he said as he crossed his arms over his chest and let his comment sink in.