A choked laugh slipped out. “I’m fine.”
“What’s so funny?” Suspicion colored her tone.
“You’re completely oblivious to the effect you have on me, aren’t you?”
She let out a startled breath. “What?”
Releasing a breath of his own, he eliminated the distance between them, lifting one arm over her shoulder so he could close the bedroom door. Her eyes widened at his nearness, and her cheeks turned redder.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
“Giving us some privacy.”
Her slender throat dipped as she swallowed. “We don’t need privacy. I wouldn’t mind some, though, so I can change out of these damp clothes.”
“That can wait a few minutes.” He locked his gaze with hers. “You asked if I was in pain. Well, I am.”
She blinked in surprise. “But you just said—”
Before she could finish, he grabbed her hand and placed it directly over the bulge in his sweatpants.
Miranda gasped, her mouth falling open. “What are you…oh my God. Jesus, Seth!”
And yet for all the lady’s protests, she didn’t make a single move to yank her hand away.
His pulse kicked up a notch, his cock growing even harder beneath Miranda’s palm. She didn’t stroke him. Didn’t cup or caress or move her fingers in the slightest. She just kept her hand over the erection straining against his sweats, her lips parted, her pupils dilated.
“Feel that?” he murmured.
Her gaze slowly met his. She looked almost mesmerized as she nodded.
“That’s what I’ve been walking around with since the moment you moved to town, baby.”
“Seth…” Reluctance crept into her voice. “Stop. Just…stop.”
And then her palm moved. A fraction of an inch. A torturous glide over the hard ridge of his cock.
He groaned softly. “Do that again.”
Her fingers froze. Her expression conveyed shock, as if she truly hadn’t realized what she was doing.
“This is insane,” she mumbled, and then, to his extreme disappointment, she withdrew her hand.
But the sexual awareness zipping back and forth between them refused to dissipate. It thickened the air and made his skin burn with anticipation. Christ, he wanted this woman so badly he couldn’t think straight anymore. Every time he saw her he turned into a sex-crazed caveman whose sole purpose in life was to claim his female.
His gaze focused on her mouth, that sexy mouth he’d been fantasizing about for so long.
“One taste.” The words slipped out before he could stop them, his voice full of gravel.
“W-what?” she stammered.
“Let me have one taste. One kiss.” He brought his hand to her mouth and swept his thumb over her plump bottom lip. The breath she hissed out warmed his fingers. “Please, Miranda.”
Oh Christ, he was actually begging.
Begging to kiss a woman.
If his entire body wasn’t overcome with pure agony, he might have been disgusted with himself, but at the moment, he couldn’t focus on anything other than Miranda. The intoxicating scent of her, vanilla and roses and something soft and feminine. The way her long, damp hair curled at the ends. The fullness of her tits beneath her T-shirt.
He stroked her lip again, then let out another groan when her tongue came out to taste the pad of his thumb. She looked as surprised as he was by her actions.
But he wasn’t complaining. Hell no. He just capitalized on that tiny sign of surrender by cupping her chin and lowering his head to take possession of her mouth.
The kiss rivaled the storm that raged outside the house—powerful and all-consuming. Her lips were soft, warm, and he could feel them trembling as he rubbed his mouth over hers in a fleeting caress. There it was, his one taste, and it wasn’t enough, not by a long shot. Miranda must have agreed, because she didn’t pull away, didn’t protest when he coaxed her lips open with his tongue and licked his way inside.
She gave the sexiest little moan he’d ever heard when their tongues met. He swallowed the sound and angled his head to deepen the kiss.
The only contact between them was their fused mouths and his hand resting lightly on her jaw. Her arms didn’t come around his neck. His other hand didn’t explore her sweet curves. Their lower bodies didn’t collide.
And yet it was the most erotic kiss of his entire life.
Disappointment slammed into him when Miranda abruptly tore her mouth away. Her eyes shone with arousal and uncertainty, and she was breathing hard, her chest heaving.
“There,” she said. “You got your taste.”
He knew she was trying to sound casual, but her wobbly voice betrayed her.
“And you got yours,” he answered, lifting his eyebrows in challenge. “So let’s hear it.”
To her credit, she met his gaze head-on. “Hear what?”
“Your speech about how you didn’t feel anything, the kiss was no big deal, it doesn’t change your mind about going to bed with me, et cetera, et cetera.”
She sighed. “I’m many things, Seth, but I’m not a liar. I did feel something, and trust me that kiss was a big deal. It was a huge deal, actually.”
She might as well have pulled out a two-by-four and smashed him in the gut, that was how shocked he was by her frank admission. Pure triumph soared through him—only to fizzle out like a wet candle when Miranda kept going.
“But you’re right. It doesn’t change my mind about going to bed with you.” Before he could respond, she spun around and grabbed hold of the doorknob.
“Miranda.”
She went still. “What?” she asked without turning.
“What the hell is it going to take for you to give in to this?” The echo of defeat in his voice surprised him as much as the next question he posed. “What do I have to do to win you over?”
Her back relaxed. Slightly. There was no mistaking her ironic tone as she glanced over her shoulder and said, “For starters? Be nicer to my kids.” Then she slid out the door.
Seth listened to the sound of her footsteps, heard the door of the hall bathroom open and close. He scrubbed both hands through his hair, still feeling winded from that explosive kiss, and now apprehensive, thanks to Miranda’s parting words.
Be nicer to my kids.
Fuck, he should’ve known it would come down to that. He couldn’t blame her, either. Whether he liked it or not, Miranda was a mother. Age-wise, she was young—only twenty-four, if he recalled correctly—but in terms of maturity, she was light-years ahead of other women her age. She took her responsibilities seriously, and he was beginning to understand that she was the kind of woman who didn’t do a single thing without thinking it through first.
Which was damn frustrating, because, really, who needed to put this much thought into a casual fling? It wasn’t that difficult—chemistry, sex, good-bye.
In this case, he’d probably need to add “and let’s stay friends” to that list, just in case his mother ever found out. Missy would kick his ass if she discovered he’d pulled his usual love-’em-and-leave-’em act on one of her former dancers. But he had no problem remaining friends with Miranda. He liked her, and they got along. Well, when she wasn’t rejecting him left and right.
So yeah, he could do the whole friendship thing—after he’d had his fill of her in bed.
Be nicer to my kids.
Fine. If it meant finally satisfying his craving for Miranda Breslin, he could totally manage a few cordial words when he was around her children.
Setting his jaw in determination, he left the bedroom and marched into the kitchen, where he found Miranda’s twins sitting at the table. There was a tall glass of milk in front of each child, and a plate of chocolate-chip cookies between them.
Dylan, who was grabbing a beer from the fridge, glanced up at Seth’s arrival. “Want one?” he asked.
Seth nodded and accepted the bottle of Bud. As he twisted the cap and took a sip, he felt two pairs of eye
s watching him. After a second, he shifted his gaze to the table and returned the stare.
No denying that Miranda’s kids were cute. They were carbon copies of their mother, hair the same shade of brown, skin the same olive tone, except their eyes were chocolate-brown rather than hazel. The girl exuded a shrewd sort of perceptiveness, her expression more shuttered than her twin’s, whose face was very easy to read.
“What’s on your arm?” the boy asked curiously, his gaze glued to the Polynesian design covering Seth’s upper arm.
“It’s a tattoo, dummy,” the girl told her brother in a know-it-all voice.
“I know that,” he retorted. “I wanna know what it means.”
“It doesn’t mean anything, kid,” Seth said, then took another gulp of beer. “It’s just a random design.”
“He thinks it makes him look cool,” Dylan explained with a grin. He sat down next to Jason, leaving one empty chair at the table—the one beside Sophie.
Seth stared at the chair.
So did Miranda’s daughter, before turning to look at him again. He could have sworn he saw a gleam of challenge in her eyes, as if she was daring him to come closer.
Rather than sit down, he leaned against the counter. Call him a coward, but he wasn’t going near that table.
A short silence fell, broken by a boom of thunder that made both children shriek.
“It’s just thunder, guys,” Miranda said from the doorway.
Seth’s mouth turned to sawdust as he watched her enter the kitchen. She was wearing the clothes he’d loaned her—the pants were baggy, as he’d predicted, but he hadn’t expected the shirt to be so big too. With the top two buttons undone, the flannel neckline kept sliding off one of her shoulders, revealing her supple, tanned skin. But it was the no-bra-strap part that transformed his mouth into a sand dune.
She wasn’t wearing anything underneath that shirt. Or the pants. Jesus. She was totally naked under there.
Their eyes met briefly, and Seth knew she’d read his dirty thoughts because she blushed before casting her gaze downward.
“I can’t believe how hard it’s raining.” She sank into the unoccupied chair next to her daughter’s. “Let’s just hope the flooding over at our place doesn’t get worse.”
“Did your landlord say how he planned to handle the damage?” Dylan asked, reaching for a chocolate-chip cookie.
“He’s trying to get a professional crew to come in this evening, if possible. If not, then it’ll happen tomorrow morning. They’ll have to pump out the water and shop-vac the place.” Her expression turned grim. “I think the biggest concern is sewage contamination and mold forming.”
She moved her gaze to the sliding door that led to the small backyard. Rivulets of rain streamed down the glass. In the distance, the sky was a dark, ominous gray.
Miranda’s face took on a faraway expression as she started mumbling under her breath. “Who knows what might be damaged. Insulation, drywall, ceilings, floors…definitely the floors. God, and the furniture and appliances, the carpets and bedding, and our clothes and…”
She was beginning to look green, and Dylan quickly interjected. “No point in worrying about things beyond your control,” he said gently. “Tomorrow you’ll assess the damage and figure out what needs to be done. Tonight, there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“You’re right,” she agreed, albeit grudgingly.
“Mom, Sef has a ta-ttoo,” Jason blurted out.
“Seth,” she corrected with a smile. “Remember we were going to try and practice our t-h sounds?”
“Seth,” Jason said slowly. Then he nodded, looking pleased with himself.
“And yes, he does have a tattoo.” She shot Seth a quick look. “Is there a story behind it?”
He shrugged. “Not really.”
“Sure there is,” Dylan said with a grin. “It’s just not kid-appropriate.”
“What’s kid-appoeperit?” Sophie asked.
“Appropriate. And it means that Seth’s story is for grown-ups,” Miranda said firmly.
Sophie twisted around in her chair and stared at Seth with a hint of contempt, as if she blamed him for not being able to hear the story. Jason, on the other hand, merely shrugged it off and reached for another cookie.
Okay then. Clearly the girl was the dominant of the two, and the one he needed to watch out for. Good to know. A SEAL always needed to be aware of his enemies, after all.
“So…” Miranda studied the clock on the microwave display. “Huh, it’s only three o’clock. Feels much later. What should we do now?”
Dylan spoke up sheepishly. “Well, I kinda promised the squirts we would watch a movie on Netflix. As long as the power’s still on and the Internet works, we might as well take advantage of it. If that’s okay with you, of course.”
“It’s fine by me.” She turned to her kids. “Any movie ideas?”
As the twins began shouting out film titles Seth had never heard of, he fought the urge to sneak out of the kitchen and hide out in his room again. Sitting around eating cookies and discussing the options for kiddie movie night was not his scene. At all.
But he forced his feet to stay rooted to the tiled floor. If he was going to succeed in finally getting Miranda naked, he needed to prove that he could be around her kids.
Jeez, is she even worth it, bro?
The thought gave him pause. He couldn’t deny that this was getting pretty fucking complicated. He was going to great lengths to get this woman in bed, even willingly spending time with an age demographic he usually avoided like the plague.
So…was she worth it?
He discreetly watched as she got up, laughing at something Sophie had said. As she helped her daughter up to her feet, Miranda’s brown hair, now dry and wavy, fell forward, revealing that bare shoulder he’d been admiring earlier.
A rush of heat coursed through his blood, and his cock stirred beneath his sweatpants.
Fuck.
Of course she was worth it.
She was absolutely worth it.
5
“Kids asleep?”
Seth’s low voice startled her as she shut the guest room door and stepped into the corridor. Miranda’s pulse sped up when she spotted him at the end of the hall. His magnetic gray eyes were focused on her with such intensity she felt rattled.
“Yeah.” She reluctantly walked toward him, wishing she’d decided to turn in herself. But it was barely eight forty-five and she wasn’t tired. If anything, she was wide awake and would probably stay that way for hours. The more it continued to rain, the higher her stress levels soared.
What would she find when she went home tomorrow? How much of their belongings could she actually salvage? How long would the renovations take? The floors would definitely have to be replaced, but what else?
“Okay, clearly you need this more than I do.”
She snapped out of her thoughts to see Seth holding out a beer bottle.
“Here,” he said gruffly. “It might make you feel better. I can see your brain working overtime. Thinking about the apartment, huh?”
She nodded. After a second, she accepted the bottle and brought it to her lips. As the cold liquid slid down her throat, she suddenly realized that Seth’s mouth had been on the lip of this bottle just seconds ago. Her heart beat a little bit faster. And faster still when the memory of their kiss flew into her head.
Oh God.
The kiss.
She’d tried blocking it from her mind all evening. She’d curled up with the twins on the comfy leather couch in Seth and Dylan’s living room. Laughed at the crazy antics of Shrek and the gang. Munched on the popcorn Dylan brought out.
She’d hoped that if she pretended the kiss hadn’t happened, she might be able to erase it from her memory, but no such luck. She’d been excruciatingly aware of Seth’s presence all night, even though he’d barely said a word. He’d isolated himself on the sole recliner in the living room and spoke only when spoken to, but she’d felt
his gaze burning into the side of her face for the entirety of both movies they’d ended up watching.
Now, that silvery gaze was glued to her again. Knowing, mocking, a tad contemplative.
“You hungry?” he asked after the silence between them had dragged on.
She shook her head. “I’m still full from all that spaghetti we had for dinner. Did I even thank Dylan for cooking? I can’t remember if—”
“You thanked him,” Seth cut in. “Twice.”
“Right. Okay. Well.”
She fidgeted with the label of the bottle. The condensation had softened the paper, and she found herself slicing her fingernail underneath it and peeling away the corners. For some reason, she felt incredibly unsettled in Seth’s presence.
“Where’s Dylan?” she blurted out.
“In the shower.”
“Oh.”
“Should we sit in the living room?” Seth suggested.
“Um. Sure.”
Shit, she had to pull herself together. So what if she could still taste him on her lips? So what if his woodsy, masculine scent drugged her senses every time she inhaled?
So what if his powerful arms looked incredible in that wifebeater?
She trailed after him, clutching the beer bottle so tightly it was a miracle the glass didn’t shatter. Why was she so nervous all of a sudden? She’d been around Seth a hundred times over the past few months and never had a problem before. She’d been perfectly capable of talking to him, interacting with him, sparring with him, shooting down his seductive propositions and resisting the attraction between them.
What had changed? Why did she suddenly feel tongue-tied around him?
The kiss, you idiot. It was the kiss.
“Have a seat. I’ll just grab another beer,” Seth said when they reached the living room.
Miranda settled on the far end of the couch and brought both legs up, resting the bottle on one knee. She looked around the room, slightly bothered by its lack of…warmth. Judging by this room and the others she’d already seen, Seth and Dylan weren’t concerned with personalizing their surroundings. The furniture in the house was sparse, the white walls devoid of artwork or decoration. Everything served a purpose—couch, flat screen, kitchen table, chairs. It kind of bummed her out, especially when she thought of the painstaking effort she’d gone to in order to make her apartment a cozy place she and the kids could call home. And now it was probably all gone—the furniture and knickknacks and personal touches she’d tried to infuse the place with.
Out of Uniform Box Set: Books 4-6 plus 2 Bonus Novellas Page 6
