Brent turned from the cashier, tucking his wallet back into his jeans, and his piercing blue gaze met hers. He moved toward her, his movements quieter and smoother than she’d expect of someone of his size and stature. It must be all that SEAL training—he was probably silent, stealthy, and deadly.
Why did that combination sound so appealing?
“Let’s show these guys how it’s done.” His gravelly voice sent shivers racing down her spine, and she had the strangest desire to hear that rough voice at her ear. Brent wasn’t the type of man to whisper sweet nothings, but the idea of his lips brushing against her skin as that low voice rumbled through her body was as arousing as hell.
She tilted her head back to meet his gaze as six feet plus of solid male stopped in front of her. He was tall. Broad. Perfect. He completely dominated the room—not to mention her personal space. And suddenly she’d love to have his type of alpha male assertiveness focused solely on her.
“I guess you’ll be showing me, too,” she said.
He raised his eyebrows. “Is that so?” His voice was thick with promise. Something close to desire flickered in his eyes. “I’ll show you whatever you want,” he murmured quietly, so that none of the others could hear.
“I mean, teaching me how to play,” she hastily corrected, realizing how her comment had sounded.
He chuckled. “Sure, I’ll teach you that, too.”
She felt flustered as he watched her. Even though she knew he was just kidding, something about the way he looked at her sent both heat and embarrassment licking through her.
“Look, it’s okay. I’ll just get Brianna and Matthew to show me how to play.”
“No can do. I need a partner. Besides, I could beat them blindfolded. You need to learn from the best.”
Her eyes were drawn to his full lips. That mouth on her skin? Just the thought of it was nearly enough to make her spontaneously combust. Never mind that her past sexual experiences had been clumsy at best. Brent knew what he was doing. And the idea was equally terrifying and exhilarating.
His gaze briefly flicked over to the other guys after his cocky comment, and each man groaned in protest.
“Modest as always, asshole!” Mike called out.
Ignoring the jabs of his friends, Brent cocked his head in the direction of the pool tables. “Come on.” Without another word, he turned and strode away, leaving her standing there watching him.
“He’s an arrogant son of a bitch, isn’t he?” Kenley commented dryly.
Mike chuckled and wrapped his arm around her waist. “Hell yeah, he is. But he’s a good SEAL and has saved my ass more times than I can count. So we keep him around.”
“Don’t let Brent scare you off, darlin’,” Matthew said. “He’s more bark than bite—well, unless you’re into that sort of thing.”
“Matthew!” Brianna chastised.
Matthew shrugged as a grin crossed his face. “And like I said earlier, the second you’re ready to go, Bri and I will take you home. No need to stick around if Brent’s sorry ass is giving you a hard time.”
“I guess a few rounds of pool won’t kill me,” Ella muttered. Yeah. The game wouldn’t, but an evening with Brent just might. He was danger and desire all wrapped up in one spectacular package. A gift she’d never get a chance to unwrap, because that type of thing wasn’t for her. Wouldn’t ever be. And she wasn’t really the type to pine over what she couldn’t have.
Steeling herself, she turned in the direction that Brent had gone. He’d picked a table in the far corner, and she had to cross the entire room, trailing after him like some lovesick puppy. Not that she was interested in Brent. Or lovesick. Not at all. But seriously—he hadn’t even bothered to wait for her. Just waltzed off assuming she would follow.
Then again, everyone else was still milling about the front of the pool hall with her. Maybe he was just a man used to being in charge—to knowing everyone else would follow his lead. The women probably just trailed after him, too, she thought with a sigh.
This entire evening was starting to seem like a bad idea.
Half an hour later, Brent bent over the billiards table, his muscles straining against his white tee shirt. As he eyed the cue ball, he perfectly sunk one into the corner pocket. Ella tried not to gape at his bulging muscles and the perfect way his ass filled out his jeans. At the way his biceps were so big, she probably couldn’t even wrap both hands around one. Or the way the denim clung to his muscular thighs.
She certainly wasn’t looking at any of that.
Not at all.
Brent grinned as Matthew whooped and hollered at the great shot, despite the fact that everyone else was losing.
“Damn, we’re going to lose again,” Mike muttered.
“Let Ella have a turn,” Brianna chastised as Brent moved to sink another ball. “You’re supposed to be teaching her how to play.”
“No, I’m fine,” Ella insisted from her perch in the corner. “I don’t mind watching everyone.” She certainly didn’t mind watching him, at least. Almost preferred it actually.
Brent glanced up from across the pool table. Her heart raced as his piercing blue eyes met hers, and she could’ve sworn she saw a flash of heat in his.
“Come on,” he said, jerking his chin.
A man of few words, she thought wryly. If he said ‘jump,’ would he expect her to ask ‘how high?’ He was probably used to women doing exactly what he wanted.
With everyone’s gaze on her, Ella slowly walked over, clutching her cue. Her hands felt sweaty, the polished wood practically slipping between her fingers. It was just nerves from everyone watching, she told herself. It was only because she didn’t know how to play pool. It had absolutely nothing to do with the breathtaking man before her.
Brent had tossed his leather jacket aside but still looked intimidating as hell in his tee shirt and jeans. It wasn’t the outfit that practically had her entire body pulsing in awareness though—it was the way he filled it out. His chiseled features and strong jaw gave way to impossibly broad shoulders and thick biceps. Muscled forearms showed the physique of a man who worked out for a living—there was barely an ounce of fat on him. The wide expanse of muscles on his chest narrowed at the waist, with jeans that hung perfectly off his hips. And he was tall, towering above her slight stature so that she barely even reached his shoulder. She’d felt safe with him down in Florida—protected. At ease for the first time in forever as he’d stood up for her.
And now she just felt…aware.
Acutely, painfully aware.
“Stand square to the table,” Brent instructed, oblivious to her unease. As his hands came to a rest on her hips when he stepped behind her, she jumped at his touch, hearing his slight intake of breath.
And even as she could feel his warmth radiating behind her, she had an urge to run far, far away. Having him innocently touch her felt far too good. And falling for a guy like him was foolish. Yeah he could protect her—physically. He could keep creeps like Frank or other handsy patrons of the cocktail lounge from even looking at her the wrong way. But emotionally? He’d crush her heart before she even knew what had happened. Move on to the next woman while the sheets were still warm. And she didn’t have time for heartache—not when she had school to finish and bills to pay. Not when she had her own life to live. She didn’t have a safety net—didn’t have someone watching her back. There was no sense in pretending he was that type of guy. Or that she was someone who would ever mean anything to him.
Her body had a mind of its own though, and warmth seeped through her even as goose bumps spread over her skin. How she could be hot and cold at the same time made no sense, but it had everything to do with Brent’s powerful body behind hers, almost trapping her against the pool table. He was so tall his chin could easily rest atop her head, and if she stepped back into him, her ass would be pushing right against his groin.
“Like this?” she asked. Her voice sounded thin to her own ears, like Brent’s very presence had suddenly su
cked all the oxygen from the room.
“Perfect,” he said, his voice gravel. “You’re right-handed?”
“Yes,” she mumbled, surprised he’d even noticed.
“We’re gonna grab some more food,” Mike called out.
Ella glanced up, and Mike and Kenley were already heading toward the bar to get more appetizers. Matthew wrapped his arm around Brianna’s shoulders as they leaned back against the wall, content to watch Brent and her at the pool table.
Brent grabbed her cue and lifted it up so that it was parallel to the table. “Hold the cue like this,” he said, taking Ella’s hand and positioning it. “We’re going to hit that striped ball and sink it into the corner pocket.”
“That looks impossible,” she said doubtfully.
“I’ll show you how to do it.”
His slightly calloused hands felt rough against her skin, and his large hand practically engulfed hers. A beat passed, and she glanced down. Thick veins stood out on his muscular hand, and she imagined what it might feel like to have those hands moving over her body. Dragging across her skin. For the briefest of seconds, his thumb caressed her skin, but it was over so quickly she was sure she’d imagined it.
He leaned over, his large body curving around hers, and placed her left hand on the table. “Put your other hand just like this,” he said, his voice thick. “You have to get in position before you can play.”
“Looks like you’ve done this a time or two,” Matthew drawled. “How many women have you taught to play pool?”
“I’m sure he’s taught them more than that,” Mike laughed as he walked back over. “Brent loves to go all night.”
“Hush,” Brianna said as Brent stiffened behind Ella. “He’s just teaching her how to play pool. Even Brent doesn’t have to sleep with every woman he meets.”
“Just ignore them,” he muttered. “You’re doing fine.”
“We can take a hint,” Matthew drawled. “We’re gonna chill over there.” The four of them grabbed chairs at a nearby table, digging into the appetizers Mike and Kenley had brought over. And suddenly, Ella and Brent were all alone.
Ella felt almost delicate as he moved her hand to where he wanted it. Protected as he practically embraced her. A man like Brent probably liked to take control of everything—the situation, his surroundings, the women he took to bed. And the arrogant, dominating man behind her, made up of pounds of muscle and tightly-leashed strength was a little too appealing. She tried her best to pay attention, but damn, the man even smelled good. Some sort of clean cologne and pure masculine scent. And with his male heat surrounding her? Part of her had the strangest desire to turn around, wrap her arms around him, and bury her face in his chest. To inhale his clean scent and warmth. To ask him to hold her just for a moment, just until she felt like she could breathe again.
“Once you’ve got the shot lined up, you can take it. We’ll do this one together.” He moved infinitesimally closer and his hand tightened over hers. She felt crowded and overwhelmed and aroused all at the same time.
And there it was again, his thumb slightly caressing her skin. So innocent it could have been nothing. An accident. But this was Brent. And everything he did seemed to have intention. His lips were at her ear, and there he was, nudging closer, his thick erection nudging against her ass. She gasped, and he squeezed her hand.
“I could teach you all night,” he said, his voice gruff. Thick with suggestion.
“Your phone is buzzing again,” Brianna said, interrupting the moment. “Want me to see who it is?”
Ella froze. Damn it. She’d never texted Frank back earlier, and now the asshole was going to keep texting her all night until she replied. They both knew she’d be back at work this weekend—she needed the money. But she had to make it absolutely certain that he knew it would be on her terms. No way was she sleeping with that bastard.
“Are you okay?” Brent murmured at her ear.
“What?” she asked, distracted by his closeness. The anxiety she felt was instantly replaced by a sense of calm. Frank wasn’t here. He couldn’t berate her. Couldn’t yell or demand something she refused to give.
She took a deep breath as her heart rate returned to normal. “I mean, yeah, I’m fine.”
She pulled away from Brent’s tempting warmth, handing him the cue, and he eyed her questioningly.
“Oh for heaven’s sakes,” Brianna said as Ella’s phone buzzed again. “Do you have some secret boyfriend I don’t know about? Someone just texted you five times in the last few minutes.”
Brent tensed up beside her, and she blew out a sigh as she walked over to her handbag. She felt the curious gazes of everyone else and tried her best to remain nonchalant. “I’m sure it’s just a wrong number or something. Lord knows that if I had a boyfriend, you’d know about it.”
Brent let out a sound that could only be described as a growl, and she flicked her gaze to him. His eyes flashed, but he didn’t say a word.
“Yeah, I figured,” Brianna said with a shrug. She beamed up at Matthew.
Ella pulled out her phone and, ignoring the messages from Frank, shut it off. “There—problem solved.” She tossed it back into her bag, debating whether or not she should just go ahead and change her number. The problem was, if she was planning to go back to work there, he’d need to get a hold of her sometimes. In case of scheduling changes. Or emergencies. So there went that idea.
Brianna raised her eyebrows, waiting for an explanation, but Ella simply walked back toward the pool table, ready to move on. “So, are we gonna shoot some pool or what?”
Chapter 4
Brent watched Ella lean further over the pool table and effortlessly sink a ball in the corner pocket. The way the denim curved against her ass was a sight to behold, and Brent willed himself to look away. Fucking hell. He was supposed to be teaching her how to shoot pool, not mentally undressing her. Not standing so close behind her it was practically indecent. But despite the alarm bells going off in his head, he was itching to walk over and wrap his hands around her hips again, tugging her closer. Feeling her soft body in front of him. Her ass snug against his throbbing cock.
She was so petite compared to him. So feminine compared to his own masculine frame. Hell, he could practically scoop her right up in one arm. He had half a mind to haul her off into the night.
Toss her on the back of his Harley.
Take her again and again in his bed.
Right.
Like that would ever fucking happen.
He turned away from her tempting form and took a swig of his beer. His pulse pounded, sending adrenaline coursing through his veins, and he willed his cock to stand down. Jesus. It wasn’t like him to get all riled up over a woman. They were a dime a dozen, and he sure as shit had no reason to let her get to him. If he needed someone to keep his bed warm, there were plenty of willing, less-complicated partners he could enjoy a night with.
But they weren’t Ella.
Brushing that thought aside, he watched as she scanned the remaining balls on the table. She had an intense look of concentration on her face, but at the moment, she also seemed pissed off. He hadn’t imagined the way she’d stiffened when she’d gotten a text earlier. Or seemed defensive when Brianna had asked about the repeated messages.
Was someone bothering her?
The thought stirred an uneasiness in his gut, immediately followed by a wave of protectiveness. The idea of anyone causing her distress didn’t sit well with him. Hell, he’d wanted to beat the shit out of her boss just for yelling at her the night they’d first met down in Pensacola. Shove him against the wall and settle things man to man. Then again, maybe the repeated text messages were nothing. Weren’t college students attached to their phones like they were an extra appendage? What the hell did he know? It was probably just some prick she’d gone out with who wanted a second date.
He clenched his fists at the idea of her with another man. The thought of another guy touching her, kissing her, tasting her, mad
e him see red. But he didn’t have any claim on Ella. And hell. He’d spend night after night with a new woman, kissing every square inch of her. Burying his cock into her tight channel. He’d had plenty of women, and certainly Ella wasn’t alone in her bed every night.
“We’re gonna head out, man,” Mike said as he strode over. Brent flicked his gaze to the others, watching as Kenley said goodbye. “What’s with you and Ella?” Mike asked. “Part of you looks like you want to throttle her, and the other half looks like you want to fuck her.”
Brent ground his jaw. “Jesus Christ. Just trying to figure something out.”
Mike laughed. “Right. The answer is no.”
Brent raised his eyebrows.
“Don’t take her home with you.”
“Hell, even if I want her six ways to Sunday doesn’t mean it’s gonna happen.”
“She’s going back to Florida soon anyway.”
“Yep.”
“All right. Catch you tomorrow.”
Mike and Kenley walked out, and Brianna looked like she was about to fall asleep standing up by Matthew’s side. After this game, most likely they’d all be heading home.
The question was, was he going to call it a night, too? Or head back to Anchors and pick up some pretty young thing to entertain him until morning? He couldn’t exactly find a woman here, not with Ella at his side. Hell, they weren’t even together, but something about Ella seeing him hit on another woman didn’t sit well with him. And wasn’t that a fucking gut check.
“Way to go, Ella!” Brianna called out as she sank another ball.
Protected by a SEAL (Alpha SEALs, Book 6) Page 4