SEALs of Winter: A military romance superbundle

by Seton, Cora

  But she did have an imagination. An all-too vivid one. She could picture exactly what it would feel to have Dan’s hands all over her, rubbing oil into her sore muscles, skimming up and down her arms, legs and body. She was getting warm just thinking about it.

  “If I win I want to give you a massage with a happy ending.”

  She didn’t even know how to answer that, except to focus on her brownies.

  She’d better win. No matter how much she ached to lose.

  “Those look wonderful!” Autumn Cruz said as she took the decorative tin full of brownies from Sarah’s hands later that evening. They’d driven over to the Cruz ranch in several vehicles, but Dan had made sure to get a seat next to Sarah. He’d taken her hand and held it during the drive, but otherwise hadn’t made a move. He knew they’d be together tonight in some form or other. It just remained to be seen how far they’d go.

  He hoped to make love to Sarah, but he could be patient if he needed to be. He wanted to fully explore this relationship. All afternoon he’d watched Sarah as she baked, as she talked and laughed with Regan and the others, and as she’d stared out the windows at the distance from time to time, lost in thought. He wanted to know what she was thinking about. He wanted to know everything about her. Mason was right, it was far too soon to think about marriage, but he was beginning to think that Sarah was the woman he’d someday propose to. He wanted her to know that’s what he ultimately wanted, even if it was early days yet. He wasn’t sure she was ready to hear that, though. Somehow he needed to convince her he was for real. He’d keep challenging her to contests and doing his best to win them, but it was time for him to show her what he was really all about.

  “Those look… interesting,” Autumn said to him when he handed her his own offering. He wasn’t sure about the results of his experiment. While Sarah’s brownies were a deep chocolaty brown, his were decidedly… pale. He’d added baking chocolate, so that couldn’t be it, but something was wrong.

  “No one can taste those brownies yet,” Regan chimed in as she entered the Cruz guest house behind him. “We’re doing a blind taste test later one when everyone’s here to determine which recipe is best.”

  “Okay, I’ll put these aside then.” Autumn moved away to do just that and Regan caught up to Dan.

  “Mason says you’re getting serious about being interested in Sarah.”

  “Maybe.” He wished Mason had kept his mouth shut.

  “Don’t worry; I won’t tell her. I just don’t think you’re going about it in the right way, if it’s true. All this competition.” Regan shook her head. “Sarah gets that from every guy she meets. What she doesn’t get is respect.”

  “I respect her.” And he’d told her that, too. From what he’d seen she was a hell of a woman besides being a hell of a soldier. He hadn’t pushed things too far, had he?

  He thought about it, running through each competition in his mind. No, he hadn’t gone too far at all. She had to know he wouldn’t challenge her that way if he didn’t respect her capabilities.

  He watched her laugh at something Mason had said. Tonight she looked every inch a woman in her wrap-around red dress, her curly hair framing her delicate face. He couldn’t wait to get her alone later.

  “Then show it.” Regan led the way into the crowded great room where card tables had been set up and a buffet of snacks and treats lined up on the counter between the living area and kitchen. Dan thought about the contest tonight and what he’d win if his brownies somehow triumphed over hers. His groin tightened at the images that paraded through his mind.

  Sure, he’d show Sarah respect. After he beat her at a few more competitions.

  Chapter Eight

  ‡

  “All I’m saying is that more women than men did the taste test. The results were biased.”

  Sarah did her best not to laugh as she followed Dan over to the pool table that stood to one side in the Cruz’s large living room. “The results weren’t biased—you don’t put cornstarch in brownies. Everyone knows that.” They’d sat at the same poker table for the first round of games, but both of them had been knocked out by the more experienced Hold ’Em players at the table. Dan had challenged her to a game of pool while they waited, and she’d accepted. He might just get a surprise or two here, as well. She’d played a lot of pool growing up.

  They had to wait for another couple to finish their game, however. Rose and Cab Johnson were already playing a rather cutthroat match. Cab Johnson was the local sheriff. Rose was an artist who also ran the local jewelry store.

  “I believe that’s your pants,” Cab was saying to Rose as they walked up. He had just sunk the three ball in the corner pocket.

  Rose glanced up, saw them and blushed furiously. She shot Cab a meaningful look. Sarah wondered what was going on between them.

  When Cab turned around and saw them, he laughed. “Looks like we’re busted.”

  “What are you doing?” Sarah asked curiously.

  “Don’t you dare tell them,” Rose said to her husband.

  “Mum’s the word.” He winked at Sarah and pretended to zip shut his mouth and throw away the key. She had to laugh along with him, more curious than ever. Rose and Cab finished their game quickly and walked away arm and arm.

  “I think they just slipped upstairs to make out,” Dan said, craning his neck to see. “What are they, teenagers?”

  “You don’t believe in making out?”

  “Those two are married—aren’t they supposed to stand on opposite sides of the room and eye each other with disdain?”

  “That’s your vision of marriage? Count me out.”

  “Ah, so you think when you’re married you’ll want to slip away and make out with your husband?”

  “I hope so.” She racked the balls and settled them on the table. She had just cued up to take her first shot when Dan slapped the side of the table. “Strip pool.”

  “What?” She straightened up again.

  “They were playing strip pool. He said, that was your pants, when he made the shot. They were playing strip pool without actually stripping. I wonder who won?”

  “Both of them, don’t you think? At least they’ll both win later when they’re alone.” She bent down again to line up her shot.

  “We could play strip pool,” he said, his voice low and suggestive.

  His words ran through her like a lightning bolt. That could be fun.

  A cheer went up from their old table and Sarah turned to see that the game was over and Ned Matheson, one of the local cowboys, had won.

  “Everyone up for another round?” Ethan Cruz called out.

  “Guess we’ll have to defer our game.” Dan came to lean against the pool table next to her. He touched her wrist. “How about we reconvene at midnight?”

  “We don’t have a pool table at the Hall.” She didn’t think she’d managed to hide her disappointment.

  He leaned forward, putting his mouth near her ear. “We’ll improvise.”

  Dan didn’t say a word to Sarah when they arrived home later that night and climbed to the third floor to their respective bedrooms. As soon as they reached the top of the stairs, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his room. Closing the door behind her, he maneuvered her against it, pressed his body against hers and kissed her.

  Sarah met him with equal passion, snaking her hands around his neck and pulling him down to meet her as she stood up on tip-toes to reach him. He gripped her hips and pulled her in tight. He couldn’t get close enough to her. He wanted more.

  But he wouldn’t rush things.

  After a few minutes, he pulled away, hard and aching to be inside her right now, but wanting to spin this out—wanting to play with her before things got serious. He took a deck of cards out of his pocket.

  “Did you steal those?” Sarah asked.

  “I liberated them,” he corrected her. “I’ll liberate them back into Mason’s pocket when we’re done. He can take them back to the Cruzes next week.”<
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  “You want to play cards?” Her tone told him she wanted something else—something far more intimate. He wanted that too.

  “Like you said, we don’t have a pool table.”

  Interest flashed in her eyes. “Strip poker? That’s kind of trite, isn’t it?”

  “What do you want to play? Strip Go Fish?”

  She chuckled. “Strip Go Fish might be awesome. But what about my massage?”

  “Baby, no matter what, you’ll get your massage tonight. I promise.”

  She bit her lip and turned away.

  He led her to the bed and sat down. “How about this. We’ll play Go Fish with a twist. If you ask for a card and have to go fish, you take off a piece of clothing. If you ask for a card and get the one you need to make a pair, you get to tell the other person where they have to kiss you.”

  Sarah smiled. “Okay.”

  As she sat down on the bed and tucked her legs beneath her, a hot twist of desire tightened in Dan’s gut. There was only one way this game could end and he knew Sarah anticipated that ending as much as he did. She wanted a massage? Well, she’d get one, after he’d made love to her until she was exhausted.

  Was there anything better than playing games with a consensual partner? A beautiful, intelligent, competent partner? He’d worried a little that all Sarah’s working out would leave her as rock hard as the men he served with, but from the little of her he’d been able to explore, he’d found her an enticing mix of strength and softness. Sure, her arms and legs and stomach were taut, each muscle defined by hours of training, but her breasts were lush and her ass—he stifled a groan. Her ass was perfect for his hands to cup and squeeze.

  He was growing hard already and they hadn’t even begun to play. Did Sarah know what she did to him? He looked up and caught her looking back. Yeah, she did.

  He dealt the cards. Sarah led off by asking for an eight. He grinned and told her to go fish. She undid the tie that held her dress and peeled it off. The swell of her breasts straining forward as she removed it made him anticipate the moment when he’d get to kiss her there. She wore a far prettier bra and panty set than he’d thought a hardened soldier like her would choose.

  “Very nice.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Move it along, SEALman.”

  He asked for a Jack. Sarah bit her lip and reluctantly handed it over. Dan realized he was wearing far too many clothes for her to kiss him anywhere interesting, so he pointed to his neck under his ear. “Kiss me here.”

  She crawled over to him on hands and knees, her breasts dangling enticingly in their lacey cups, and kissed him softly but thoroughly where he’d asked. He was growing harder by the minute, and when she sat back down, it was all he could do not to toss away the cards and jump her.

  “Do you have a three?” she asked.

  “Go fish.”

  She removed her earrings this time. “You’ve got way more clothes on than I do. I have to hold out as long as I can.”

  But after the next few rounds Dan only wore his boxer briefs, his socks and his watch. Sarah asked for a seven, got it, laid down her pair and cupped her breasts, still encased in her lovely bra. “Kiss me here.”

  Dan did so gladly, moving to crouch by the side of the bed where she sat. He lingered over the soft mounds, brushing his mouth over one, down into the space between them and up over the other. He peeled back the cups of her bra and dropped kisses onto her nipples, too, teasing them into hard peaks. Sarah’s breathing became unsteady and he knew why. He wanted her as much as she wanted him.

  He asked for a queen next, didn’t get it and tugged off his boxer briefs gratefully. When she asked for a three again and he still didn’t have it, he knew she was as eager as he was to get on with things. She slid her panties off, and he had a hard time tearing his gaze from the trimmed thatch of hair that covered her there. He couldn’t wait to explore every inch of her.

  “Do you have a two?”

  She handed it over, her eyes gleaming. Could he ask for what he really wanted?

  He decided he could.

  He encircled his hardness with one hand. “Right here, baby.”

  She smiled. Crawled back over to where he sat. Dipped her head down.

  Dan groaned when she took him inside her mouth. He had wanted her so bad, for so long, he wasn’t sure how long he could last under this sweet torment. As she caressed him with her tongue and lips he fought hard to maintain control, but when she braced her hands on his hips and drew him in deep he thought it was all over.

  Somehow he lasted through several minutes of her attentions, but then he took her shoulders and drew her upright.

  “I want you.”

  She nodded.

  “Do you want to finish the game?”

  She shook her head.

  “There’s just one more thing I have to do.” He pushed her gently onto her back, and bent down to return the favor she’d bestowed on him. He had to know how she tasted, even though he longed to plunge inside her without another moment’s hesitation.

  She was glorious on his tongue and he explored her, loving the way she clutched the covers and lifted her hips to meet him. Her ragged breathing and her small cries heating him up all over again, he made himself take the time to thoroughly enjoy her before sitting up.

  “Ready?”

  Chapter Nine

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  “I’m ready.” Oh, was she ready. She didn’t think she’d last a minute when they came together, not the way she felt right now.

  He seemed to understand her need. He reared up and maneuvered himself closer to her. “I don’t know why, but I keep thinking our first time should be some kind of acrobatic feat.”

  “Our first time better be some kind of soon,” she countered. “Acrobatic or otherwise.”

  “It’ll be soon.” His voice held a promise that revved her up all over again. “I just want it to be memorable.”

  “Memorable?”

  He bent closer and brushed his lips over hers again. “Memorable, sweetheart. Because we both need to remember it for the rest of our lives. Come on.” He pulled her up before Sarah could make sense of that last declaration.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Right here.” He pointed to the bare wall in front of them; the only blank space in the small room.

  “Up against the wall?” That wasn’t that unusual, but she knew she’d have a great time no matter how they did it.

  “Up against the wall—upside down.”

  Sarah laughed out loud, then clapped a hand over her mouth, aware of all the other people sleeping in the Hall. “You can’t do it upside down.”

  “Ever tried?”

  “No.” A thought occurred to her. “Have you?” She didn’t like that idea at all.

  “No. But if ever there were two people who could get it done, it’s us.”

  She bit her lip, the challenge in his voice igniting her own competitive nature. Could they do it? “Okay,” she heard herself say.

  Dan tugged her close. “If it’s a complete disaster I’ll apologize and bang you silly missionary style; I promise.”

  “I’ll hold you to it.” If she didn’t break her neck. “How do we do it?”

  “We start out like this.”

  She held her breath as he executed a perfect handstand against the wall.

  “Fuck.” He regained his feet in an athletic movement. “Condom,” he added apologetically and quickly pulled one out of his pants pocket, where they were heaped on the floor. Sliding it on in a matter of moments, he once more did a handstand against the wall.

  “Wait, what do I do?” she asked. If she followed his example, her back would be to his front, which might work, but wasn’t what she wanted. But how could she do a handstand and end up front to front?

  “Backbend and kick over,” Dan said, almost conversationally, as if he could stay in that handstand all night. Which he probably could, Sarah thought as she moved into place. A backbend didn’t faze her, although she hadn’t
kicked over and out of one since she was a pre-teen still taking gymnastics lessons. She leaned back and let herself fall into position, her hands in front of Dan’s, her face nearly nose to nose with his. “Kick,” he prompted.

  “I’m not sure I can.” But she tried and to her surprise she made it, her feet landing against the wall in between Dan’s. Now the real problem became clear to Sarah. “I’m too short. You’ll never reach. Or I’ll never reach you, anyway.” Bracing her legs against the wall, she began to shift around, but while she was able to locate the tip of his hardness, and even tease both of them by nudging it just a bit inside her wet, waiting folds, the difference in their heights was too extreme to get any further.

  “Hold on.” Dan grunted as he maneuvered, shifting from hand to hand. Sarah strained upward, eager for him to move deeper, nearly crying in frustration when she couldn’t achieve it. “Hold on.” Dan’s voice was strained. Sarah realized he was bending his arms, slowly, slowly, pushing into her centimeter by centimeter as he moved down into a headstand. She gasped aloud as the width of him filled her with such agonizing, exquisite slowness that she nearly came right then. Dan was magnificent; she’d never felt like this—not vertically or horizontally, or any which way up. She knew that no single session with him, no matter how acrobatic, could ever be enough.

  Suddenly she understood why he’d said forever.

  She was determined to give them both what he sought; a sexual experience they could remember and share for a lifetime. It didn’t make sense; there was no way they could feel that way for each other so soon, but suddenly she was sure. It was what she wanted, sensible or no.

  “Now what?” she gasped. If they stayed like this, she’d come all right—she didn’t need anything more but to be filled by Dan for that. But she wanted more. She wanted to make him come too.

  “Hang on,” he warned and began to move again. He pushed himself up, his biceps bulging with the strain as he slid up the wall and out of her. In one fluid motion, he sunk down again, refilling her until she thought she would shatter apart. “All those damn pushups are finally paying off,” he gasped and did it again.