A SEAL in Wolf's Clothing hotw-9

by Terry Spear

  But now? He’d revealed that he truly had been interested in her all those years, and that made her feel—differently.

  That’s when the oddest feeling washed over her. Hunter had been saying for years how she was too choosey. That she’d never find the right mate. And that’s when she realized it. Deep down, she was afraid of men. Well, not any man, but specifically alpha males. She couldn’t take up with a beta because she couldn’t see having a mate who wasn’t up to the challenge. But she was afraid an alpha would quash her own natural alpha tendencies. She wanted—and feared—an alpha male.

  She let out her breath with a heavy sigh and noticed Finn turn his head in her direction.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked, his tone gentle, not pushy.

  She shook her head. No way would she tell him or anyone else how she felt about alpha males. She’d successfully hidden her feelings all these years—from herself, even, it seemed. No sense in letting anyone else know how she truly felt. Awkwardly uncomfortable, she started to poke the stick into the sand some more, digging until she had a deep, narrow hole. Doing something physical helped her control her unwanted nervousness.

  “If Hunter didn’t want me around you guys, why did he leave me in your protective custody now?” she asked, figuring her brother hadn’t any choice this time.

  “He knows any one of us would protect you better than someone who wasn’t one of our team. I just happened to be the only one available for the job.”

  Just happened to be? What about Paul? He could have come for her. Unless he had been busy. Maybe he’d been somewhere more inaccessible so he couldn’t get there in time to warn Hunter.

  She wanted to know what the guys had really said about her, if they’d bothered to speak about her at all. They’d have to have done it in private, she imagined, when Hunter hadn’t been around. He could be annoyingly protective, even when she didn’t need or certainly want his protection. He’d broken up more potential dates than she could remember.

  She poked her stick even deeper, annoyed at Hunter for messing up what might have been a possible mating in several instances if she’d only been able to go her own course without his interference. Now she had Finn watching her every move and no chance to return to her cabin to manage the rental units until this was over. And then? Hunter would be back.

  She glanced over at Finn, expecting him to be watching the ocean again as if he were his ancestor Leif Erikson, looking at his real home in the deep blue sea and wanting to sail away to new lands, when instead he was stuck protecting Meara on the beach. He was actually watching her poke the stick into the hole she had made in the sand. He caught her eye, raised his brows, and gave her the most wickedly evil grin. He clasped his hand over hers and pulled the stick out of the hole.

  He held her hand firmly and leaning closer to her, his whole posture stating that he was in charge. She frowned at him, not knowing what his problem was.

  “Hunter didn’t say how much trouble you could be,” he said, and winked. “We ought to go inside now.”

  Her lips parted in protest as she narrowed her eyes at him. But he just gave her a small crocodile smile back and raised his brows a hair.

  Heat filled her whole being when he didn’t release her hand. She glanced down at his fingers wrapped around hers, the stick poking at the tip of the hole in the sand.

  “I’ll follow you up in a minute,” he said quietly.

  She noticed then that his voice was downright husky with sexual overtones. Her gaze quickly shifted to his jeans. Ohmigod, he was fully aroused. As if he knew what she’d realized, he grinned at her. “Follow you up in a minute?” he asked this time.

  Hell, he probably couldn’t walk with a boner like that.

  Then she wondered what had brought that on? His hand squeezed hers, bringing her attention to the stick in her hand and the hole she’d made in the sand. Her mouth dropped open for a second. Her poking the stick in the hole had given him ideas?

  Men were absolutely incorrigible. At least this SEAL was.

  * * *

  Meara would be the death of him, Finn thought glumly as he waited for her to enter the house while he attempted to reign in his raging erection. He’d tried to let her down gently, to explain that he couldn’t be the one for her. Yet if he hadn’t been a thrill seeker, Meara would have been just the wolf he wouldn’t have minded settling down with.

  He shook his head at himself and glanced at the dark hillside, wondering if Bjornolf had been watching them. He was sure the lone wolf had been, which was the only reason Finn hadn’t given into his more wolfish desires and kissed Meara again on the beach. He couldn’t do that when his mission was protecting her, not ravishing her.

  After a few minutes, he put out the fire and headed to the stairs, unable to set aside the thought of Bjornolf kissing her in the lobby. The overwhelming question was: why had he done it?

  To goad Finn into action? To announce his claim? Or was that just his usual MO with a woman he found attractive? What the hell was Bjornolf trying to say?

  Finn ran up the stairs and entered the house, then locked the door behind him.

  Meara was still in the bathroom showering when Finn walked down the hall. He breathed in the sweet, tangy fragrance of tangerines, fresh water, and Meara. He paused to take his fill and thought of her soaping up all that silky soft skin of hers. Then, with the utmost difficulty, he finally let go of thinking of her and entered the bedroom. For an instant, he wanted to haul her into his bedroom, the master bedroom suite of the house, and take her to bed. He sighed. Best to leave things the way they were. If he ever took her to his bed, trying to keep his distance would be a lost cause. As long as they stayed in one of the guest rooms, it felt as though they were more on equal footing.

  He stripped out of everything but his boxers and climbed under the covers of the guest bed, then waited expectantly for Meara to return to the bedroom. He should have gone right to sleep. He shouldn’t have been anticipating wrapping his arms around her and snuggling until they both fell asleep. But no matter how hard he tried to see this as just a mission—protect Hunter’s sister at all costs—somehow the demarcation line between what he should be doing and what he wanted to do was blurring.

  He’d expected her to be wearing her skimpy pajama shorts set when she walked into the room, but instead, a long terry cloth robe covered her body, and her feet were bare while she towel-dried her hair. She hadn’t seen him in the bed as she moved to the chair where he finally noticed her pajamas were set out. She hung the towel over the back of the chair and then began to untie the robe.

  She should have known he was here. Smelled him. Even heard his heart beating at an increased rate. But barring that, he should have made an audible sound, cleared his throat, done something to let her know he was in bed already and watching her with feral desire.

  Unable to move, he observed her with fascination as she peeled the robe off her shoulders until she was standing naked and dropped the robe onto the chair. She was turned so he could see her profile, the lovely curve of her breast, the peak of a dusky nipple, her hip, her shapely leg. She moved dreamily as if she was already half asleep, lulled by the heat of the shower, as she pulled the skimpy tank top over her head, the rest of her naked still.

  She reached for her shorts, but something made her turn to look at the bed, as if she’d finally realized he might already be there. Her eyes widened and her luscious lips parted, but she didn’t say anything. Expecting her to scold him for being so quiet and watching her in silence, he was surprised when her mouth curved up fractionally, her eyes matching her amusement.

  “I don’t imagine this is what Hunter had in mind when he said he wanted you to watch me.”

  Finn smiled, and he was certain his wolfish grin looked as needy as he felt.

  She slipped on her shorts and sauntered to the bed in a sultry, sexy way. He pulled the covers aside, inviting her to join him—close, and she obliged, her back to him, his body comfortably spooning hers
. He should have left well enough alone. Snuggled with her. Enjoyed the heat, the softness, the fragrance that was Meara, yet he couldn’t let go of the niggling exasperation he felt over Bjornolf kissing her in the lobby of Anna’s hotel. And her letting him.

  “Why did he kiss you, Meara?” Finn asked, wrapping her in his arms.

  Meara sighed heavily and didn’t say anything for the longest time. Finn caressed her shoulder, sweeping her hair aside, and then nuzzled her neck, enjoying her sweet fragrance but wanting to know what Bjornolf’s reasoning was, even though he didn’t expect Meara to have the answer.

  She was barely breathing as she relaxed more deeply against him and then finally said, “Why does any man kiss a woman? He just wants to.” She sounded sleepy and… slightly amused.

  “He didn’t kiss Anna.” His answer was short and quick and to the point. And annoyed. No matter how much he tried to keep this unemotional, he couldn’t.

  He toyed with the thin strap of Meara’s pajama top, his fingers caressing her bare skin, itching to push the straps down and feel her creamy breasts in his hands.

  “Did you ask her?”

  He stopped what he was doing and considered what she’d said. Meara had a point. Maybe that’s why Anna thought Bjornolf was handsome. Maybe he’d kissed her first and then Meara later.

  Finn didn’t say anything in response, but then he released her. She groaned as if wishing she hadn’t asked. He pulled away from her, reached over to the bedside table, and grabbed his cell phone. After pushing the autodial for Anna’s number, he let out his breath, curbing the urge to pace across the floor while he waited for Anna to answer the blasted phone. It didn’t matter that everyone who had any sense should be sleeping.

  After what seemed like an eternity, Anna answered, asking, “Finn, what’s wrong?” Her voice was half asleep but anxious.

  He could hear her getting dressed in the background, drawers slamming, her breath ragged. Not wanting her to think they were in trouble, he quickly asked, “Did Bjornolf kiss you?”

  A brief pause followed before she growled, “You called to wake me up for this? I thought you were dealing with another assassin. Hell, Finn, what’s going on?”

  “Forget it.” He’d be the laughingstock if she told the rest of the gang why he’d called her in the middle of the night like this. And despite desperately wanting to know the answer to his question, he wished he hadn’t phoned her.

  He was about to hang up when she hollered, “Wait!” Then her tone softened. “What’s this about, Finn?”

  “Nothing.”

  He could hear the mattress creak in her hotel room and assumed she was lying back down.

  “No, he didn’t kiss me.” Anna let out her breath. “But that’s not what’s bothering you, is it?”

  “’Night, Anna.”

  “You’d better let Hunter know what’s going on.”

  “Nothing is going on.”

  Anna snorted. “Right. Don’t tell me you’re not hooked on her, Finn. I know you better than that.”

  “Later. Get some sleep.” He shook his head and terminated the call. Then he set the phone back on the bedside table, turned, and pulled Meara back into his arms. “He didn’t kiss Anna.”

  Meara didn’t say anything, and for a moment, he thought she’d fallen asleep. But then he figured she couldn’t have. She would have fought sleeping to hear if Bjornolf had also kissed Anna.

  “So why did he kiss you?” Finn asked quietly.

  “Because he wanted to see what it would be like?” Meara stiffened. “How would I know? I’m not Bjornolf, and I didn’t encourage him, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “He did it to see if you would kiss him back.” At least if Finn had been interested in a woman like Meara, that’s the reason he would have done so.

  “Well, I didn’t kiss him back. And I wouldn’t have, even if I hadn’t been so stunned. Not only that, if I hadn’t been so shocked, I would have hit him or something.”

  Somewhat mollified that she hadn’t kissed him back, Finn grunted. “Why did you call Hunter instead of me when Bjornolf approached you? Hunter was in Hawaii. What was he supposed to have done?”

  “I would have gone to Anna’s room to make sure you both were all right, but I didn’t know her room number. As for calling you, I didn’t have your cell number.”

  “I had already added it to your address book.”

  Wide eyed, she turned to look at him. “You did? Where?”

  “Where you couldn’t fail to miss it.”

  She grumpily rose from the bed, retrieved her phone from her jeans, and looked at her address book.

  The name SEAL snagged her attention. When Bjornolf had shaken her up, she’d just punched the number one for Hunter’s number, not even reading who else was listed in the name field. She harrumphed. “SEAL,” she said, and climbed back into bed.

  Finn pulled her back tight against his chest and moved his hand over her tank-top-covered breast, the cotton fabric sliding over the protruding nipple that was already sensitive to his touch. “Once a SEAL, always a SEAL,” he whispered against her ear. “We specialize in deep undercover operations.”

  “Is that a promise or a threat?” she asked just as quietly. The way he was touching her was making her hot with desire. She was glad he seemed to have given up on being angry about Bjornolf kissing her. God, what a mistake it was to have let that slip.

  “It depends entirely on what you want,” he said.

  She smiled and reached back to touch his crotch and stroked his rigid length covered in the cotton boxers.

  He ground out, “You are seriously asking for trouble.”

  She laughed and turned around to get a better grip. But as soon as she smoothed her hand over the length of him, he ran his hands up her bare thighs, his thumbs dangerously close to the center of her, gliding over her skin and setting it afire. His eyes were smoky with lust, and his mouth curved up decadently. Here she was planning on seducing him, but the male wolf was already making her wet for him.

  She only thought to have sex with him to get him out of her system so they could sleep the rest of the night without any further interruption—no emotional commitment, just pure physical sex. But she couldn’t with Finn. Not with the way he caressed her skin so tenderly, the way he pulled her down for a kiss. His mouth was gently pressing hers, questing for a response, and when she gave it to him, when she moved her mouth over his, intending the same gentle caress, he plundered her mouth roughly, belying his true feelings as if he had been holding back the storm, keeping himself in abeyance. Until she responded. Once she showed she was willing, that she wanted this as much as he did, he pulled out all the stops.

  His hands slid up her waist underneath her top, cupping her breasts as he tongued her mouth, his thumbs rasping over her nipples, her core aching as she perched over his erection. She was torn between wanting him inside her and wishing consummated sex didn’t mean a mating between the werewolf kind. Although she wondered what being mated to him would be like.

  She ran her hand over his hair, telling herself there was no likelihood of that, so she’d just better damn well get that notion out of her head and enjoy him like he was enjoying her. And hope that someday some alpha male would be as good at pleasuring her as Finn was. Hell, all he had to do was look askance, raise a brow a little, and give her one of his devilish grins, and she was ready to roll onto her back and beg him to ravish her.

  As if he knew just what she’d been thinking, he lifted her by the waist and set her aside, at first making her think he’d had second thoughts. But he quickly pulled off her top and slid her shorts off, making her feel vulnerable. A whole lot naked. And a little wary. Worried he might be thinking of taking it too far.

  But he only smiled in that arrogant way of his and then pressed himself against her, kissing and rubbing his length against her thigh, his hands deftly feeling her breasts, his mouth nuzzling her throat, and she arched her hips in response. God, how she wanted h
im inside!

  He grumbled something about how hard she was making him. He slipped his fingers into her tight sheath, smiled when he discovered just how wet she was, and began to stroke her until she was ready to burst into flames with pleasure and only feeling slightly guilty that she’d forgotten about pleasuring him. Until he made a final thrust against her hip and she felt his shorts wet against her skin. She smiled as he thrust a couple more times, and then he made a slightly disgruntled sound.

  “We’ll have to do a wash pretty soon,” she said, cupping his buttocks through the boxers.

  He grunted, then kissed her forehead and slid off her, finally heading down the hall to the bathroom. She sighed, then grabbed her pajama short set and headed for the master bedroom and bath to wash up.

  Finn’s assignment to watch over her was going to kill her desire for anyone else, if they didn’t quit letting the situation get out of control.

  After she washed up and pulled on her shorts set, she turned and nearly had a heart attack. Finn was standing in the entryway wearing a fresh set of boxers, brows raised and arms folded across his muscular chest, and watching her grimly. “Ready to sleep?”

  Something about his posture made her think he believed she was leaving him to sleep in the master bedroom because they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. But she’d thought maybe this was beginning to mean something to him, and he wanted her with him in bed—not just so he could watch her and keep her safe from assassins and the like.

  She stalked past him and cast over her shoulder, “I wasn’t intending to sleep in the master bedroom, you know.”

  “Good, because I wasn’t planning on letting you.” But his eyes and expression were darker than usual.

  This time she grunted back at him. And he laughed!

  Chapter 12

  Meara wasn’t sure what woke her in the middle of the night while she slept with Finn in the guest bedroom, but she somehow managed to extricate herself from his arms without waking him—worn-out wolf—and got up to check out the house. She slipped her rifle out from under the bed and left the room. The house was dark and quiet except for the wind ruffling the tree branches and the waves striking the rocks and beach as her bare feet padded along the carpeted floor.