Before We Kiss (Uncharted SEALs Book 6)
Page 4
Once they’d departed the dining room and made their way down the long corridor toward the elevators, she drew deeper breaths, trying to calm her heart rate. She was really doing this. Sleeping with a man she’d just met.
When the doors slid shut with a whisper, he took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze. “You tired?”
Her chance for an out—if she wanted to take it. She swallowed. “Not particularly.”
“Good.”
Silence stretched between them. When the doors opened, they both stepped out, and maybe they walked a little more quickly, but she didn’t mind. She already had her card key in her hand when they reached her cabin’s door.
He waited as she opened it then followed closely behind her. When he closed the door, he touched her upper arm. “Wait here until I have a look around.”
“Right,” she said, hating the reminder of why he was really here.
Minutes later, after he’d checked both bedrooms, baths and the balcony, he returned to her and turned the deadbolt. “All’s clear,” he said softly.
At his downward glance, she wet her lips, anticipating that now they’d kiss.
But he gently cupped her shoulders. “Before we kiss…”
So he had been thinking about it, too. She raised her gaze to his.
His brown gaze was direct. “I just wanted you to know a couple of things.”
She nodded, but otherwise she kept silent. He would tell her he wasn’t the type to stick around. That she shouldn’t read too much into the fact they’d be making love. This encounter wouldn’t be about love…
“Poppy, I never cross lines. I don’t fuck the people I protect.”
Her mouth dropped a little at the f-word, but only because he’d been so blunt—and she hoped he wasn’t changing his mind about making her the exception. “I get that.”
“No, you don’t.” His brows creased. “You’re pretty. And female. Which doesn’t happen often in my job, but that’s not even why I’m here.”
Her mouth was drying. Maybe she ought to shut it before she blurted something humiliating. Like, we can talk…after.
“I just wanted you to know, that if you weren’t the job, I’d have been all over you by now.”
The way his voice deepened to a rasping growl told her everything she needed to know. First, that her neglected sexy bits didn’t need direct stimulation to grow aroused. Second, he was just as eager as she was. But while he was wrestling with his conscience, she wasn’t nearly as conflicted. Frank had abandoned her. Broken her heart. But she’d grieved long enough. She wouldn’t deny herself the pleasure of the well-muscled man in front of her. She sighed as his fingers tightened on her upper arms. Holding her gaze, Wiley bent toward her.
Watching as he descended, she tilted back her head. But at the last moment, she reached up and pressed a finger against his mouth. “Before we kiss…”
He arched an eyebrow.
“You should know…” She bit her lip. “I haven’t been with a man other than Frank.”
He gave a sharp nod, but since she hadn’t removed her finger, he still held back.
“I have high expectations,” she whispered, then slowly dragged away her finger.
The corners of his mouth twitched. “Should I feel intimidated?”
“God, no. I mean, Frank was..great, before.” She felt heat flood her cheeks. “I just meant. I haven’t…a long time has passed…and I have these fantasies built up in my mind…”
He lifted his hands to cradle her face. “I’ll go slow.”
“Not what I meant,” she blurted. “You don’t have to.” She wished she’d never said anything now, because he was smiling, probably laughing inside at what a nitwit she was. “What I’m trying to say is I’m not scared. And I’m not fragile.” Taking her courage into her hands, she slid both palms up his chest to cup the lovely bulges she’d been dying to explore. “Fast would be better.”
His kiss came quick and hard, ending her humiliating jabbering. While his mouth rubbed and sucked at hers, his thigh pushed between her legs.
She needed no encouragement, moving closer to rub her sex on thick, flexing muscles. Heat and moisture quickly filled her pussy, making her shudder.
Her zipper gave, and she moaned as cool air met her naked back. The blue silk sheath she’d worn to impress was quickly shoved down her arms. Her lace bra eased away, and Wiley’s large, hard hands surrounded her breasts.
Nothing had ever felt this divine. She broke the kiss and let her head fall back, her eyelids drifting shut as he massaged her, thumbs scraping the tender centers of her breasts. “Oh, please,” she murmured. “More.”
He withdrew so suddenly, she would have crumpled to the floor if he hadn’t reached out to catch her. Then he pushed her dress past her hips, knelt to remove her heeled sandals, and finally her miniscule panties.
Now nude, she held her breath. The moment could have been awkward he paused so long, but his slow, whispered, “Goddamn, you’re beautiful,” only caused her breasts to swell and more fluid to wet her folds. “Not fair,” she said, her voice tight and thin.
He stood, and then bent to slide an arm behind her knees and back.
When he picked her up, she gave a little yelp and clutched him, because he was already moving and jostling her in the process. He strode toward her bedroom and laid her gently on the bed. Then he stripped—so quickly she didn’t have a chance to properly admire the tawny skin and muscle he revealed. But the brief glance at his cock was enough to set her heart hammering against her chest. Fully aroused, his cock rose at an angle from his groin, thick and long.
The second the last item of clothing dropped, he walked to the bed and crawled onto the mattress on his knees, not stopping until he was braced above her.
This close, he overwhelmed her. His scent, spicy and yet fresh like a sea breeze, and the warmth emanating from his skin invaded her senses. Her body’s responses were immediate. Her nipples tightened. Her pussy grew wetter. With her breaths shortening to shallow pants, she had to fight hard to think. “Condom,” she gasped.
He lifted one of his hands and dropped a plastic packet on her chest, and then braced again.
She’d have to do this. Have to touch his cock. It pulsed and a silvery bead of pre-come glistened at the tip. With her hands shaking, she tore the plastic, retrieved the condom, and then slowly rolled it down his cock. Which meant her fingers traveled along every rigid inch.
When her hands fell away, he lowered himself until his chest rested against her breasts and his cock dug into her mound and belly. His gaze was stark. His face tightening while his body tensed.
Afraid he might be pondering taking it slowly from here, to see to her pleasure, she shook her head and slid her hand between their bodies to grip his cock. “Fast, Wiley. Please.”
He dropped his head to kiss the tip of her nose. “I’m trying to do the right thing.”
She gave him a one-sided smile. “If that were true, you’d be sleeping on the couch.”
He winced. “Not my finest hour.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” She arched one brow. “That still waits to be seen.”
“Keep squeezing me and that hour might be only seconds.”
She laughed and let go. “I’ll need a little more time than that.”
“Way to put on the pressure,” he murmured.
“Well, if there’s anything I know about you military men, you don’t back down from a challenge.”
Wiley bent and kissed her again, a quick, hard press of lips. Then he rose on his arms and pushed a knee between her thighs. “Baby, open for me.”
The moment had come. Her belly quivered. Her breaths grew choppy as she slowly spread her legs and bent her knees. She glanced down between their bodies. His cock pulsed, but didn’t near. So, she reached for him, gave him one slow stroke then tilted the tip toward her pussy, waiting as he pushed himself through her fingers and touched her sex. She unwrapped her fingers from his thick shaft and spread her folds,
holding them open as she watched him enter her, slowly pulsing to draw her moisture, to ready her channel to greet the rest of his length. His entry was agonizingly slow, crowding her walls inch by inch, driving her crazy until her thighs and belly shivered and jerked.
“Almost there,” he whispered.
She couldn’t drag her gaze from the sight as he pushed inward then withdrew. Seeing it happen, feeling how he stretched her, was the sexiest thing she’d ever experienced. As he pushed the last inch inside, she withdrew her fingers and clutched the sheets at her sides. Her gaze traveled slowly upward, admiring his washboard abs, his thickly muscled chest, his neck where tendons bulged, his face… Their gazes met. He was watching her.
“Touch me,” he gritted out.
She unclenched her fingers from the bedding and molded them over his hard chest.
He began to move faster, the push and pull through her rippling channel heating her from the inside out.
“You feel incredible. So hot. Wet. Damn, baby, it’s so good.”
She couldn’t respond, not and breathe at the same time. She arched her back to lift her breasts, and he lowered his torso to let the tips of her nipples drag on his taut skin. Surrounded, penetrated, she couldn’t get enough. She wanted to rub herself like a cat against his hot skin. So she undulated and moved her hands to his sides then down to his buttocks. She dug her fingertips into the firm muscles, urging him closer. Then she raised her legs, hiking them over the hard ridges of his hips.
Wiley dropped his chest to hers and curved his hands beneath her buttocks, fingers spreading to clutch her as he thrust faster, harder—his movements jarring now to her entire frame. She wanted more. She glided her hands up his back, traced the deep indention of his spine and scratched.
Every thrust gusted out her breath. She thrashed her head against the pillow. She was close, at the edge. Her voice tore from her throat in thin, tight whimpers.
“That’s it, baby. Come for me. Do it now,” he said as he pounded her.
And that was all she needed, his graveled voice urging her on, to push her over the precipice.
His movements quickened and shortened. Friction burned, moisture gushed. The sounds they made—her thin mewls, his harsh grunts—added a layer of sensuality she gloried in as her orgasm washed over her, pulsing deep inside.
He shouted, stiffened, and held.
She waited as he shuddered against her. Felt the pulsing of his cock as he emptied himself. When he fell against her, she wrapped her arms and legs around him and rocked with him, loving this part, too. Their bodies were coated in sweat that slowly cooled as their breathing returned to normal.
At last, he lifted his head and kissed her, his mouth eating hers. He pulled back his head. “Are you okay?”
She smiled and used a finger to trace the path of a bead of sweat sliding along his cheek. “Well, you didn’t embarrass yourself.”
His chest jerked as he barked a laugh. “That’s the best praise you can offer?”
“I’m happy, Wiley. Thank you.”
All humor bled from his expression. Tenderness gleamed in his softening gaze. “You were amazing, and if you’d like, I’ll make it my duty to help you smile again.”
Tears blurred his image, but she quickly blinked them away. “I’d like.” I like you, she wanted to say. But she wasn’t sure what this connection was. Didn’t want to mar a magical moment with thoughts of a future that most likely wasn’t something he intended. Once, she’d lived for a future that never came to pass. Tonight, she’d take now and make the most of it.
Chapter Five
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All throughout breakfast, Wiley had to fight the urge to grin like an idiot. Keeping his gaze from Poppy’s pink cheeks was hard enough.
When he did glance to his side, Poppy ducked her head. “Don’t look at me,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “Everyone will know what we did.”
Not everyone. But the folks who’d kept an eye on her suite door throughout the night would certainly have noted he never left. Not that he cared whether the whole world knew. Today, he was feeling pretty mellow. Happy, even. Last night had been the best sex he’d had in his life. And it was all because of her. Poppy was a mass of contradictions. Every facet of her body and her mind fascinated him. Modest. Bold. Eager. Curious. Some of the things she’d shyly asked for him to do in the dark kept him aroused just remembering, even now.
That she’d let him hold her hand as they’d made their way to breakfast had filled him with a deep satisfaction.
Joe and his buddies met them in a dining room that served a buffet breakfast. Morty was the last to join them, and his tray was piled so high, Wiley had to shake his head. “Where do you intend to put that?” he asked, eyeing Morty’s skinny frame.
“He’s always been a chow hound,” Joe said with disgust, eyeing his omelet and single slice of buttered toast. “Used to have to share my C-rats because one box of rations didn’t fill him up.”
Morty grunted and dug into his food.
Wiley caught a hand waving from near the entrance of the cafeteria. When he had Wiley’s attention, Mike Espinoza tilted his chin toward the hallway outside.
Wiley gave Joe a glance. The old man hadn’t missed the signal. He nodded, sitting a little straighter in his chair. He’d keep an eye on Poppy while Wiley slipped away.
“Have to see a man…” Wiley said to Poppy and kissed her cheek. “Stay put until I get back.”
She flashed him a smile and settled in to talk to the men surrounding her about their impressions of the cruise—what they liked, what they thought younger, rehabilitating soldiers might like…
Mike lowered his brows and gave Wiley a stern stare as he neared.
Wiley returned the look. “Not a word,” he grumbled, knowing the look had been about his unprofessional behavior the night before.
“I’m not judging. But you have to know word’s gonna get back to the general.”
Wiley didn’t like hearing that truth—not that he was afraid of the general’s reaction, but he didn’t want Poppy embarrassed. He hoped she’d never find out that her sex life would be part of some report. “So, what do you have for me?”
“All’s quiet. Your group is still finishing their thorough background checks on all the crew.”
Not something Wiley didn’t already know. Deke had mentioned that every crew member who was there—or would be on any subsequent cruises, including the one hosting the Soldiers’ Sanctuary—had to be vetted, in case someone who was vulnerable was pressed to leave a little package aboard the ship. Or give access to systems crucial to the liner’s operation. “Anything new I need to worry about?”
Mike drew a deep breath. “Zero chatter’s been heard regarding our girl showing up on that tour bus.”
Not necessarily a good thing. Wiley would have thought that at least the people who’d been on the other end of the conversation during the attempted roadside ambush would be lighting up the air waves with the news of Poppy Shackleford’s location just off the Mexican shore.
“You have to keep her on the ship.”
Wiley shook his head. “She’s already set to hit the beach today.”
Mike blew out a breath that billowed his cheeks. “All right. But she takes the conch train along with the rest of the passengers. I’ll have men watching. And I’ll make sure they’re armed. She doesn’t go to the bathroom unescorted.”
Wiley nodded, relieved the best preparations were being made. He’d stick like glue to her for the entire excursion. When he returned to the table, everyone had finished eating. Morty was back filling another tray. Wiley slid in beside Poppy and gave her a quick smile.
“Any trouble?” she asked, her gaze locking with his.
“Still bent on heading to the beach?”
“It’s not far from the dock. We’ll be surrounded with other passengers. And I assume Mike has a detail ready to cover me.” She shrugged. “I want to go. I don’t like feeling as though I’m a prisoner.”
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Her tone was even, soft. She didn’t raise her chin, signaling she wouldn’t be stubborn if he decided the trip wasn’t wise. Part of him wanted to err on the side of caution. But Charter and the DoD had their best people on this outing. “I say we go. But no disappearing acts. I’m your shadow.”
She nodded, and a smile stretched. “I can’t wait to get you into the water.”
Seeing her smile shot warmth to the middle of his chest. He cleared his throat again and leaned closer. “Another one of those fantasies?”
“Maybe,” she whispered.
He groaned softly. “Not today. I can’t be distracted.”
“Not a multi-tasker?” she murmured, a smile playing at her mouth.
“You two need some privacy,” Joe’s gruff voice sounded loudly beside them.
Ducking her head, Poppy giggled, and her cheeks flushed.
Over his shoulder, Wiley cut Joe a blistering glare. He leaned over the table, which drew in the older men. “Get into your swimming trunks. We’re heading to the beach.”
Well, the excursion wasn’t exactly the sexy afternoon she’d envisioned, but she had to admit she was thoroughly enjoying herself. After combing the beach with Wiley, searching for seashells and bits of sea glass, she lay on a lounger in a long line of chairs beside a free-standing bar with a straw roof and attendants who wove through the chairs to deliver drinks. Her skin was tingling, and she knew she’d have to move to a covered area soon or risk a sunburn, but she decided not just yet. Lying beside Wiley, with his three watchdogs drinking umbrella’d drinks and wearing straw fedoras with lines of zinc covering their noses, she couldn’t help but feel happy. She was boneless. Relaxed. A night filled with the best sex of her life followed by a day spent with the handsome man responsible for her state… Well, a single girl couldn’t ask for more.
With a hand shielding her gaze from the sun, she rolled to her side and glanced across the small space toward Wiley, who half-reclined on his chair, his gaze constantly searching their surroundings. The man took his job seriously. Although glad his first priority was her safety, she had worn her tiniest bikini.