by Tawny Weber
She shot one last look around the gym, noting the glances being sent their way. It was easy to read the thoughts of the dozen or so men in the room. She was an intruder and in true military fashion, they wanted the intruder gone.
“Thanks for showing me around,” she said, making her way to the exit. She waited until they’d left the gym before giving him a grateful smile. “I would love to do the actual workout here sometime.”
His gaze took a long, slow journey over her body, leaving desire in its wake. “You aren’t really dressed for a workout.”
His eyes met hers again with a look so hot Livi’s thighs trembled. Heat, wet and sticky, pooled between them in anticipation of that look’s promise.
“You’d be amazed at what I can work out in,” she said, remembering a few workouts with the strippers she’d toured with.
“Is that a fact?” His smile was a little wicked. “Are you so dedicated that you wear workout gear under your clothes?”
Livi wet her lips and gave him a look from beneath her lashes. Even though they were back in the broom closet of an office, she still dropped her voice to a low purr.
“All I’m wearing underneath are a couple of teeny, tiny scraps of silk.” She waited a beat, reveling in the desire lighting his eyes. “I don’t think they’ll offer much support if we get very active.”
His eyes dropped to her chest, as if assessing just how much support she needed. She almost groaned as she imagined him reaching up to cup her breasts, testing their weight in his palms. He had such big hands.
Big, strong, talented hands, she’d bet.
Without thinking, she reached out to take one in hers. Holding it between them, she traced the index finger of her other hand along his palm, delighting in the hardness.
“You have clever hands,” she murmured. “Working hands. The kind that can handle anything.”
Her eyes met his, her body reacting instantly to the heat in those blue depths.
“Hands like these might not be able to handle teensy pieces of silk,” she teased.
“You’d be amazed,” he said quietly, his gaze molten.
Livi’s heart thumped so hard she was surprised it didn’t leap out of her chest and land at his feet. Her pulse jumped right along with it, edgy desire grabbing her. Making her want. Making her need.
Then, in a blink, his gaze was friendly again. He released her hand, leaving Livi standing there with her notes and a whole lot of lust.
“So,” he said, drawing out the word until she’d closed the notebook and met his eyes. “You have everything you need?”
For her interview about the SEAL workout? Yes.
Personally? Livi was pretty sure she needed a whole lot more now than she’d ever realized she could.
But that wasn’t what he was asking about, she reminded herself.
“Thank you so much for the wonderful information,” she said. Thrilled with her extensive notes, her mind raced with ideas for modifying the compound exercise combinations and functional routines to make them accessible for people at different fitness levels.
“Then we’ve handled our business?” He sounded so official it was easy for Livi to imagine him directing troops and issuing orders.
“I think so,” she said slowly. Was he going to kick her out?
“Then it’s time I took a clue from Romeo.”
“I’m sorry?” Livi frowned.
“Our bet.”
“Oh.” Delight, purely feminine, partially sexual, filled Livi as she smiled. “I’ve already collected my prize.”
“How about I collect mine tonight? Dinner?” he suggested, still using that distant tone.
Her heart leaped, but she still hesitated. Silly, since she’d been looking forward to their date for over a month. But nowhere in her imagination had she forced him to see her beforehand.
Whether he’d read her mind or simply had a busy schedule, Mitch glanced at the clock hanging on the steel-gray wall.
“I was going to call when I got off duty today to see if you’d like to go out.”
“Then I’d love to go to dinner tonight,” she agreed, probably much too eagerly.
“I need to shower and change.” His words were said in a husky whisper.
“Do you want me to wait for you?” she offered, not sure she could. Her body was wound so tightly, all it would take was a touch, just the hint of his finger trailing over her bare skin, to make her explode.
“Why don’t I meet you at your place?”
7
A DATE, A DATE, oh, goody, a date.
The chant accompanied her all the way home. It played in her head as she emailed her mother a quick report stating the meeting had gone well. She hummed it as she hurried through the apartment, tidying.
As she plumped pillows, she wished she’d thought to stop for fresh flowers.
Oh, God, a date.
She hadn’t been on a date in years. Unless going out with Derrick while they’d been married counted, and she really hoped it didn’t. The most fun she’d had on those dates was beforehand, when she got to pick out an outfit.
An outfit.
Livi dropped the barely plumped pillow and ran for her bedroom, stripping as she went. Her shoes flew toward the foot of the bed as her fingers made quick work of the buttons on her jacket.
What was she going to wear?
Mitch hadn’t said if he was taking her someplace dressy or casual. Did she wear sequins or denim? Heels or flats? She didn’t want to overdress, but underdressing was just as bad, wasn’t it?
She tossed her jacket on a chair and shimmied out of the skirt. Standing in the middle of her walk-in closet wearing nothing but the tiny bits of silk she’d mentioned earlier, Livi flipped through hangers so fast, the fabric was a blur of color. Every once in a while she paused to consider.
A simple black skirt with a silk tee was casual enough, but could be dressed up quickly by adding her fat black pearl necklace. But it was more businessy than sexy.
Back to flipping hangers.
Her little red slip dress was definitely sexy, but the brushed cotton, if paired with flat sandals, would dress it down. The hanger was halfway off the rod when Livi remembered it was December. Back it went. The flipping resumed.
She’d finally narrowed her choices to a sheer black blouse with poet sleeves that she could pair with a red cami and skinny jeans, or a nubby silk sheath in khaki with a matching jacket. Wait. Wasn’t khaki more an Army color than a Navy one? Livi started flipping hangers again. Then she found the perfect dress.
A white crocheted minidress with cap sleeves and a scooped neckline. She’d pair it with her nude peep-toed sandals.
When the doorbell rang, she started, almost sending the dress into orbit. She glanced at the clock and grimaced. It was too soon for Mitch. She hoped it wasn’t Tessa wanting to hang out. Or worse, her mother, here for a more detailed report on the meeting. Livi grabbed her robe, a swirling column of watercolor hues, and pulled it on as she hurried to get rid of whoever it was.
Scooping her hair back, she glanced through the peephole.
Her stomach did a quick dive into her bare toes even as her heart hit overdrive.
Livi took a deep breath, tightened the tie on her robe, then pulled open the door.
Oh, my.
He looked good.
He’d shaved—his jaw so smooth she wanted to glide her fingers over it. He wore slacks, an open-collar shirt that hovered between deep purple and black and a leather jacket that did justice to his broad shoulders.
Oh, yes. He looked very, very good.
“Hi,” she finally remembered to say. “I didn’t expect you so soon.”
He was giving her the same inspection she’d given him, reminding Livi that she wasn’t wear
ing a whole lot to inspect.
It took a few moments before Mitch pulled his gaze from her body, but eventually he looked up.
“I spend a lot of my life on a ship or sub, so showering fast is a habit,” he told her, humor glinting in his eyes. “I did stop for these.”
He handed Livi a bouquet.
“Peonies,” she said softly, burying her face in the vivid pink blooms. “Thank you.”
Then, realizing he was still standing in the hall, she stepped aside and gestured. “Please, come in. I’m sorry, I’m not quite ready yet.”
“Is it a problem? Me being here,” he asked, repeating her earlier question.
“Definitely not,” she breathed. “Please, come in and be comfortable. It’ll just take me a minute to be ready, but I want to put these in water first.”
She hurried through the living room into the kitchen so she could put the flowers in water. She pulled an etched purple vase from the cabinet and added water and the flowers. She took a second to skim her fingers over the fragrant blooms and sigh, her eyes misting at his sweetness.
Deep breath. Get it together, she warned herself. Don’t want him to think you’re a lovesick goofball.
Vase in hand, she turned.
And almost busted it against his cast-iron belly.
“Oh, my God, I’m so sorry.” Her words flew out in a rush of air, her pulse jumping in shock. Hands trapped between the glass and his abs, Livi barely bit back a groan. There she was, skipping the lovesick part and just proving that she was a goofball.
“I like your place,” Mitch said as if she hadn’t slammed him in the belly with his lovely gift. His smile calmed her in a way that no amount of reassuring words or deep breathing could do.
Suddenly Livi wasn’t worried about how he thought of her. Because she could see it in his eyes. The admiration, the amused enjoyment. The desire.
Oh, my, there was a lot of desire in those blue depths.
Nervous again, but for totally different reasons now that the edgy needs were pulling at her, Livi turned and carefully set the vase in the center of the counter.
“I could show you around,” she offered brightly as she turned back to Mitch. “As you can probably tell by the size of the kitchen, I’m not much of a chef.”
“I’ve seen some pretty amazing things come out of small kitchens.” Mitch slid a finger along her hair as it curved over her cheek. His words were innocent enough, especially given his earlier reminder that he spent so much time on ships. But his flirtatious tone and the heat in his gaze made it clear he wouldn’t mind making her come in or out of the kitchen.
Livi’s thighs turned to jelly, hot sticky awareness pooling between them at his words, at the look in his eyes. Her nipples beaded so tightly she was surprised they didn’t burst through the silk of her bra. This was crazy. He had barely touched her and she was ready to explode.
Not sure how to handle the situation, Mitch or her own unfamiliar needs, Livi gave him a shaky smile before skirting around him and hurrying back into the living room.
As always, the soothing colors and soft lines calmed her. Then Mitch walked in and all she could wonder was how he’d look lying naked on her plush white carpet.
“Great lights,” he said, indicating the strands of blue, purple and teal bulbs she’d draped around the French doors leading to the small balcony. “They match your furniture. Do you change them out for Christmas?”
Change them? Livi frowned at the lights. Why would she do that?
“I don’t really decorate,” she said instead. “It’s just me, and I spend the actual holiday at my mom’s...”
She gave an awkward shrug.
“So where did you want to go?” she asked, ready to change the subject.
His eyes locked on her, his expression that of an amused cat enjoying himself, Mitch stepped down into the sunken living room.
“Do you like Mexican food?” He moved closer, within touching distance, so Livi would only have to reach out her hand if she wanted to explore that gorgeous chest.
And oh, how she wanted to.
“I love Mexican food.” She took a few steps backward, stopping when her calves hit the coffee table.
“Pedro’s?” His smile heading toward wicked, Mitch took another step closer.
Her white dress would be perfect. Of course, with that look in Mitch’s eyes, she was feeling pretty good in her robe, too.
“Pedro’s is my favorite.” She sidestepped along the edge of the table until she cleared it. But she didn’t step back again. She didn’t want him to think she was a chicken. “I have to go change. It won’t take me a minute.”
There was nothing chicken about that, she decided. And if she took a few minutes for a little pep talk and maybe to stick her head between her knees so she stopped hyperventilating, well, he wouldn’t know.
“That’s not what you’re wearing?” Mitch teased as he reached out to rub the fabric of her collar between two fingers. “It looks perfect to me.”
His simple words were offered with a smile. But there was a look in his eyes that fascinated Livi. A promise of delights she’d never imagined, a solid confidence that he’d be the best she’d ever encounter.
Livi didn’t know where it came from. She was never forward with men. Even after a year of marriage she’d always waited for Derrick to initiate sex.
But this was Mitch.
She felt things with him that she’d never felt before.
Edgy desire and white-hot need.
Tempting passion and naughty hunger.
And comfort.
As if she were safe. Not just physically safe because he was a SEAL. But safe to be herself, without fear of judgment or reprisal.
It was a total turn-on.
“Actually,” she told him as she unknotted her robe, “I thought I might wear this.”
It only took a tiny shrug to send the fabric sliding over her skin, down her body and to the floor.
Leaving her wearing two tiny bits of black silk and the heat of Mitch’s gaze. Her nerves were gone. There was no room for them in a body filled with desire.
“You wear that and we’re going to have some problems,” Mitch said, his voice a little huskier than before. The hand that’d tested the fabric of her robe slid along her bare arm now, close enough to warm her breast but not touch it.
Craving coiled, low and tight in Livi’s belly.
“What sort of problems?” she asked, not moving. Barely breathing.
“Hunger problems,” he told her as his hand skimmed her waist now, up to the edge of her bra, then down her side to the tiny strip of lace at her hip. “We’re definitely going to go hungry.”
She didn’t see him move.
She had no idea how he went from standing a foot away to sweeping her into his arms, but there she was. Livi gasped, wrapping her arms around his shoulders so she wouldn’t fall. Then she realized she was in no danger of falling. At least, not onto the ground.
“Nobody’s ever swept me off my feet before,” she said, a little stunned.
“Let’s see what else we can do that you’ve never done before,” Mitch suggested just before his mouth took hers.
So many things were on her haven’t-done-before list. But Livi was pretty sure she’d be crossing a few off tonight.
And then she stopped thinking and just felt.
Because his lips were magic.
They brushed over hers, and Livi’s body trembled.
They pressed tighter, his tongue teasing its way into her mouth, and Livi’s heart raced.
They slid, angled, seduced. And Livi melted.
Her fingers skimmed the short, soft hair at his nape while the other hand explored the delicious breadth of his shoulder. The man was an ode to physical perfection.
She couldn’t wait to see more, to touch more. Was he that hard everywhere?
Heat wound tighter in her belly, her thighs pressed together to intensify the trembling need dampening her panties, making her quiver.
His kiss deepened, his tongue sliding along hers in a swirling, seductive dance. Livi swore she felt herself falling, the sensations were so amazing. It was like floating on a silken cloud of delight.
Mitch’s hands skimmed down her waist to grasp her hips, his thumbs teasing her pelvic bones before they smoothed their way back up her torso to cup her breasts.
Livi’s eyes flew open as a tiny explosion burst through her, starting at her clitoris and fanning out in a swirling wave of pleasure.
“How...” Her breathless question trailed away unasked when she realized she was laying sideways across her bed, Mitch standing above staring down at her.
Echoes of her climax breezed through her, gentle and sweet, relaxing her muscles, warming her body for the next round.
“How...?” he prompted, his blue eyes intensely focused on his fingers as they cupped her breasts, molding the aching flesh through her silk bra.
“Um, how did you find my bedroom?” she improvised. It sounded better than “How did you sprout two extra arms and make me come while still carrying me?”
“I’m good at finding things,” he told her with that slow smile of his. “Now why don’t I find a few other things you might like?”
“I’ll bet I can find a few you’ll like, too,” Livi offered, using her abdominals to pull herself into a sitting position so her mouth was level with his belly. Or, if she leaned down a little, her lips would be in touching distance of that very, very impressive erection straining the zipper of his slacks.
Before she could decide where to start, Mitch gripped her shoulders. When Livi glanced up, he shook his head.
“This time, this first time, let’s do it my way,” he suggested in a seductively low tone.
Livi wet her lips, nerves dancing in time with the images flashing through her imagination. Nerves, and excitement.
“What, exactly, is your way?” she asked.
Mitch reached down to slide the smooth strap of her bra down the curve of her shoulder, loosening the silk cup and relieving a little of the pressure on her right breast. Then he did the same with the left strap. The wispy fabric draped low, catching on Livi’s turgid nipples. The sensation of the silk tugging ever so lightly sent a shaft of pleasure through her.