Eyes On

by Zoë Normandie

  She toyed with her lip. “I understand.”

  “I don’t know who you think I am or what you think I do,” he continued, “but I’m guessing that neither of us is going to talk about that side of our lives.”

  “You got that right.” She grinned.

  “Good.”

  He admired her smile as he held her hand. Avery’s expression betrayed pure excitement. She seemed willing to accept anything at that point, and her enthusiasm drove him wild. A woman he wanted so bad, who also wanted him. It was a potent mix.

  She was just so fucking hot. That indescribable thing that she did to him—he didn’t know what it was or how she did it, but he felt wildly alive with her.

  With her final understanding, he pulled her in close and kissed her again, slower this time. She was eager to respond, and he felt like she was going to jump him right there.

  Tugging her hand, he led her to his villa at the end of the boardwalk. He didn’t miss her admiring glances as she followed him, her hand in his. She was acting like his girlfriend. He wanted her to be. Was it possible?

  She gasped as she walked into his villa. “This place is amazing.”

  It was true. Mason knew he had one of the best suites. He’d gotten lucky. Doubly lucky, he thought, as he watched the lithe Avery saunter around.

  “You should see the patio.”

  He grinned as she spun and headed out onto the ocean-facing deck. After a moment, he followed her out and closed the door behind them. The wooden patio was enclosed on three sides, leaving them a view of the endless ocean and nothing else. To his amazement and pleasure, Avery stood against the rail fully nude. She looked back over her shoulder and watched him come to her.

  Mason lost it. He absolutely fucking lost it. Whatever semblance of restraint he had left was gone. He dropped the blanket in his hand and reached her in two massive steps. He spun her around, and his hands were immediately all over her. Their mouths met again, welcoming the familiar taste and sensation. His hands found her breasts and her crease. Hers found his member, and he dropped his beach shorts to the ground.

  “I want you so bad,” she whispered to him. “You are just everything to me.” Her tender tone was new, and touching. Her vulnerable words made him feel odd sensations in his chest.

  Everything?

  His wandering hands traced her slit, and he groaned at how wet she was. She was beyond ready for him. He just wanted to throw her down and get it in.

  “I want to taste you,” she said, and made to move lower.

  He picked her back up, knowing he couldn’t handle any of that and still perform. He was on a dry spell that needed to end.

  Mason quickly reached down and pulled a condom from his shorts, which he had smartly stashed earlier. Sheathing himself, he spun her to face the ocean and wrapped her hands around the railing.

  “What do you want me to do?” he asked behind her, whispering into her neck as he grazed his teeth along her flesh.

  “Fuck me.”

  “Show me where,” he demanded.

  Leaning back, he watched as she spread her legs apart and used her fingers to ready herself for him, a show he had deeply enjoyed the night before.

  “Please fuck me, Mason,” she cried over her shoulder as she touched herself. “Please.”

  He grinned, loving the words coming from her sexy lips. With one hand on his cock and the other on her shoulder, he slipped his head up and into her. She was so wet, it wasn’t a challenge at all. They were both ready.

  “Oh, wow,” she moaned in response, her head tilting softly to the side. He carefully pushed in the rest of the way. “Fuck,” she choked out. “Wow.”

  He grinned. “It has that effect.”

  She began panting as he pumped up into her hard. Rough. Angry. Needy. Hungry.

  “Faster,” she cried.

  The word nearly made him explode. He loved faster. He loved harder. “You sure?” he groaned, loving that they were on the same page. Their sexual chemistry was unreal. He could fuck her all day.

  “Please!” she shrieked.

  He held her shoulder harder and just went to town. He pumped hard and fast—as much as his body would let him. She cried out five, ten times. He had no idea what was pleasure and what was orgasm, but her pussy got wetter and wetter, spilling down his legs.

  Finally, she reared her head back, and he couldn’t help himself. He grabbed hold of her beautiful, perfect hair and pulled it. The more she moaned, the tighter he pulled, arching her back.

  He felt that tightness around his cock, and it was his undoing. He came hard. Really hard. He was sure that condom was at full capacity. She breathed out, exhausted, and collapsed backwards against him. He kissed down her neck and picked her up, settling her into the patio chaise with him.

  Mason cleaned up himself and her with the spare towel, then pulled the blanket over them as they cuddled, watching the ocean waves. He brushed her hair back from her forehead and ear, and she turned her head slightly to look at him.

  She blinked, and he saw her internal struggle. He saw it because he felt it too. He wanted her again and again—more than anything—but there was still a barrier between them. He didn’t like that.

  Did all good things have to come to an end? Would this continue beyond vacation? What was next?

  Avery was a woman he could be with, but he didn’t know how to make that happen. Vermont to Virginia? He didn’t even know exactly where she lived.

  She looked back up at him, and he realized her expression was apologetic. Regretful, even.

  “I’m sorry,” she breathed, eyes reddening.

  Her teary eyes made him want to hold her tighter. “About what?” he whispered into her ear. He was afraid she would leave. Afraid she was sad.

  She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I don’t know. I wish I were real. I wish this were real.” Sorrow crossed her face.

  Never before had he so desperately wanted to wash away someone’s pain.

  “I’ve never wanted anything more than this,” she said quietly. “Because I can never have it.”

  “You can,” he tried to assure her. “Of course you can. Why not?” He imagined it. They could be a thing. It didn’t have to be over. Was he falling for her—after only a few days?

  It couldn’t be possible.

  But how he felt… it was indescribable.

  “You don’t understand,” she tried to explain, but trailed off as he continued caressing her hair.

  Mason felt a new welling of emotion in his chest. A realness, a softness… a rawness. “You are real, Avery. I know you are. And this is real.”

  She just shook her head in response, and a tear rolled out of her closed eyes.

  “This is real,” he repeated, trying to make her believe. But he was just as unsure as she was. So he just held her close, and they cuddled together like two soft animals in a nest, wanting and needing each other.

  Within a few moments, he drifted into a half sleep that transported him back to Mali, back to the giant fucking problem waiting for him when he returned to Virginia. He found self-reflection rolling a screenplay of his recent years.

  Five years a SEAL, Mason had climbed the ranks in the regular force before he gained a spot in the highly elite and secretive DEVGRU. The Navy’s top office let DEVGRU run wild, doing their thing. Getting shit done. That was good, for the most part.

  But some of the guys—a select few—had gotten a bit too wild in the field without oversight. They’d gotten out of hand.

  Mason knew very well what a Law of Armed Conflict Violation, or war crime, was—and he recognized it when he saw what Blackshot had done. You weren’t supposed to shoot detained guys. It just wasn’t done. No matter how close to death they were. There was a clean-up crew. There were policies. War had rules.

  But none of that mattered anymore.

  Mason had been there. He’d watched him do it. He hadn’t done anything. He’d stayed silent, like an obedient operator.

  He wa
s trained to be silent. Silent operations. Silent entries. Silent killings. Silent about secrets. Silent about mishaps. He’d been silent so long that he had forgotten what it was like to speak up.

  It wasn’t just that he couldn’t talk to Avery about it, it was that he no longer knew how.

  His eyes opened partially to see her form pressed against his. It was amazing just to hold her. She made those awful memories go away.

  Breathing into her sweet-smelling hair, he said absently, “I never want this day to be over.”

  “Why?” she breathed back.

  “Because I don’t think either of us are going to like reality tomorrow.”

  10

  Avery woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of ocean waves below her and the feeling of a hard man spooned against her, sleeping soundly. They were still in the chaise on the deck. The night air was crisp and chill on her skin. God knew what time it was. All was quiet on the resort.

  Mason’s deep breathing behind her was rhythmic and cathartic. His chest rose and fell, pressing against her. He was warm, comforting. She nestled her cheek against the pillow and exhaled softly. She never wanted it to end.

  Here she was, lying naked.

  Lying naked… with Mason.

  Mason… the target.

  She closed her eyes, enjoying the moment.

  The target! Avery bolted upright, unsettling the calm of the scene. She urgently glanced down at Mason. His deep breathing had gone quiet, but he didn’t stir.

  Had they had sex?

  Of course they fucking had. And it had been fucking amazing.

  She rubbed her hungover head as she dangled her feet over the edge of the chaise, grazing the cool wooden floor. She looked back at Mason’s sleeping face. So peaceful. So breathtakingly handsome. A face she just wanted to clutch and kiss. Her lips still were swollen from all the kissing they’d done last night… and her lady parts were sore from the rough sex. She rubbed her face again.

  Why had they done it?

  Because she’d begged him. She knew it was her doing. But her guilt took over, and she couldn’t stay on the chaise anymore. She was beginning to feel like she’d crossed the line. She felt terrible that this big, kind, golden, amazing angel of a man was giving himself to her all day and all night—and she was lying to him.

  He fucking sensed it. He’d straight-up called her out. But he didn’t know the half of it. He didn’t know what she was capable of. What she had the power to do to him… to his career.

  Lifting herself off the chaise gently enough not to wake him, she caught a glance of his sleeping face. Mason looked different as he slept. His guard was down, giving her a glimpse into what was going on inside him. She squinted her eyes in the moonlight and reflected for a moment. What was it about him that looked different?

  It hit her. Compared with his waking face, his sleeping face seemed troubled. Could she blame him? The man had probably seen a lot of hard stuff. And to think that Big Navy was forcing him through another clearance process. She shook her head, thanking god that she’d been the agent assigned to his case.

  Off the chaise and into the villa, Avery tiptoed across the hallway and into the front room. She had to report in. It had already been too long. The last thing she needed was for her boss to send back-up and find her in a compromising position. Then she’d really be fucked. And it wouldn’t be good for Mason either.

  Avery searched for her beach bag and found it on the granite counter next to two empty tumblers. The memory of Japanese whisky dripping off his lips hit her. The whispers of doubt grew louder in her mind. Should she finish the case? Could she?

  Avery found what she was looking for in her bag and exhaled deeply, palming the small electronic device. She couldn’t deny what she knew anymore. First, she desperately wanted Mason again. And again. Second, she did not want to ruin him. Both of these were in conflict with her assignment. Her job required her to betray that man. That amazing man.

  She wasn’t going to be that woman—or agent—anymore.

  Flipping open her smartphone and logging in with her key, she cruised through the security protocol. She didn’t trust the hotel Wi-Fi, so she paid for international roaming and went in through the VPN. Only then could she be confident that things were secure. Encrypting her session, she entered the internal messaging platform. She sent a ping to Rook04, another user connected through the private network.

  She waited.

  Tapping her fingers on the back of the phone, she saw nothing. She wondered if it was a sign from god to run off and marry her archangel.

  Avery took another soothing, deep breath and tried to convince herself that she had no reason to feel guilty. He was a big boy. He knew her deal. He’d very clearly articulated as much. But her emotions betrayed her, and her logic too. Every time she tried to justify herself, her conscience showed her the flip side. There was no running from it. Mason didn’t know the half of it. She was in the wrong.

  Finally, after a few minutes of tapping her phone, her boss replied to her message. It was 3:00 a.m. in the Maldives and about 5:00 p.m. in Washington.

  Tell me something good, Rook04 wrote to her.

  She typed back quickly. So far, so good. Both a lie and a truth.

  Ready for an evac?

  No, she wrote. One more day. Need more time.

  Doesn’t sound good. You sure?

  All is good.

  She tapped her fingers again, impatiently waiting for his response. She felt like jumping out of her skin.

  Who are you trying to convince? Rook wrote.

  Myself, she thought.

  Another message came in. Time to finish him. No mercy. He added a thumbs-up emoticon. Don’t fall for the charm. They are snakes.

  The last line chilled Avery to the bone. Why did Rook hate SEALs so much?

  “Emergency email at three in the morning?” said a deep voice behind her.

  Avery locked her phone as she glanced up. Mason stood in the doorway. Completely naked.

  It only confirmed her desire for him. His arms hung off the top of the door frame, and he gazed at her intently, a picture of muscle with his black tattoo crawling up his arm and chest. He looked menacing. Terrifying.

  Mouthwatering.

  “What if it is?” Avery tried to recover smoothly. She wouldn’t over-explain—that was the mark of a guilty party.

  He crossed his arms and frowned. He knew better. She was insulting his intelligence.

  But Avery was sexed up, somewhere between drunk and hungover, and very tired. She was not at the top of her game. He had a funny way of throwing her off her high horse.

  “This seems fucky,” Mason said bluntly. “I don’t like this.” His frown was heartbreaking. He was really disappointed. “Come on, Avery. After all we’ve been through… the game is up.”

  It was true, but she couldn’t get there. She still felt the need to cover herself.

  “Nothing odd about checking email.” She sighed, and flopped the phone in her beach bag before sauntering over to him.

  His eyes narrowed on her as she approached in her slinkiest manner. She rubbed her arms over his cut, broad chest, tracing the lines of his tattoo. He twitched as she did, his eyes following her, and she saw his reaction to her. The feeling was mutual.

  “You don’t check your email during the day like everyone else?” he breathed.

  She caught herself for a moment. Obviously he was right. Why did his deep blue eyes make her feel like an amateur?

  “You don’t think I’m completely clueless, do you?” he demanded, pushing her further. He knew something was wrong. Her misplays were piling up. Avery began to doubt her resolve. She’d never gone up against a SEAL before. Her boss had warned her that they were a tough breed. And she’d fallen for the charm…

  But it wasn’t just physical. It was the whole mass of emotion she shared with Mason. She was fucking over her friend. Someone who mattered to her.

  “Mason, I…” Her voice cut out, becaus
e she didn’t know what to say.

  “Let’s cut the games. It’s time to talk.” His voice was low. “Are you targeting me?”

  Yes, actually. Avery wished she could get the words out. That would be a good place to start. But she couldn’t.

  Mason continued. “There’s something fucked up going on here.” He pointed back and forth between them. “You need to be honest. It’s too late now for games.”

  She knew what he meant. They’d been intimate. They’d crossed the line. She pressed her lips together and stared at him blankly, her best poker face, remembering what he’d asked of her… and how she’d responded. She would not cry.

  “We need to figure this out,” he pressed. “Come on.”

  As she glanced at his mouth, shame made her close her eyes. He’d given her the best orgasms she’d ever had, and she could barely face him, let alone speak. Her heart seized up. He breathed down onto her and she could only smell beach, coconut, whisky, and his delicious woody musk. She could smell that forever.

  “Tell me.” He lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Avery, I know something is up. But I know something else too.”

  “What’s that?” she whispered.

  He grazed her lips with his. “I know there’s something real here. I’m just trying to figure it out.”

  “Why?” Her voice was almost inaudible. “Why do you care?”

  “Because I want you. All of you,” he said. “And I don’t want this to be over when vacation is done. I want this to go the distance.”

  She shut her eyes and felt his lips press against hers again and again. So soft and gentle. He was coaxing it out of her.

  He wanted the real her.

  “I can’t.” She pulled back, her throat closing. “God.” Was being together contingent on her confession? She could never. She was a vault. That was all she had. She felt her breathing falter. She was choking.

  “Why can’t you?” he asked. “Tell me.”

  She looked up at him, assessing, unable to breathe.