SEALed with a Kiss (Alpha SEALs Book 2)

by Makenna Jameison

  Try as she might, she couldn’t get the blond Navy SEAL out of her head. Her mind had been replaying Wednesday night in her bedroom like an endless movie—except it was strictly the highlights reel. Couldn’t the man at least be a bad lover or something? Now she had that to remember him by as well. And remember was all she would do, because if she ever saw Evan again, she’d be running the other way. He was way too tempting for her self-control.

  “Yes, Patrick,” she stammered. “Who else would I be talking about?”

  Rebecca nailed her with a gaze. Her whip smart lawyer instincts seemed to be calling bullshit on Alison’s maneuvering around the subject. Why did Rebecca have to know her so well?

  “Well, maybe the Navy SEAL that drove you home the other night for starters,” Rebecca teased. “Evan, was it?”

  She sighed. “I saw him again the other night.”

  “Again? You mean after last weekend?”

  “He made me dinner on Wednesday.”

  “What?” Rebecca asked, pausing in the midst of grabbing Abby’s stuffed elephant from the armchair. She tossed it back down and turned to face Alison.

  “Evan. Made. Me. Dinner.” Alison repeated, as patiently as possible.

  “He asked you out?”

  “No. It’s kind of a long story…,” Alison said, turning away. She grabbed some throw pillows and a blanket from the sofa and stuffed them into a box. “…starting with us running into each other in the parking lot and ending with him cooking me dinner in my kitchen. Well no, technically, it ended in my bedroom.”

  “Sounds promising so far,” Rebecca teased.

  “I don’t know. It wouldn’t work,” she mumbled.

  “Did he stay the night?”

  “I told him to leave.”

  “That bad?”

  “That good.”

  Rebecca laughed. “That’s why you’re so upset Evan is deploying?”

  “I’m not upset,” Alison huffed, cramming more stuff into the overflowing box. Honestly, if she couldn’t count on her best friend to be on her side, then who could she count on? And was it so much to ask for the man who’d been in her bed to let her know he was leaving on a mission with no idea when he’d return? Or if he’d even return at all?

  A chill snaked down her spine. Those guys deployed all the time. She’d known what Rebecca went through each time Patrick had to leave. The reality of the situation began to sink in when she imagined Evan in Patrick’s place. He’d leave. Frequently. She’d have no clue where he was, how long he’d be gone, or if he’d ever return. Fan-freaking-tastic.

  The way his face had turned to stone as he walked out of her bedroom had left her uneasy for the past several days. He hadn’t just been disappointed, it almost seemed like he’d been hurt. Like she had somehow hurt him. If he didn’t mean anything to her, then why did she care so damn much? And more importantly, if he was just looking for a good time, why would he be offended she wanted him to leave? Those guys had women hanging all over them.

  She glanced over to see Rebecca looking at her in disbelief.

  “I’m not upset,” Alison repeated.

  “Uh-huh. And I’m not madly in love with Patrick.”

  Alison continued packing, ignoring her friend’s last statement. “Where’s Abby?”

  “My parents have her for the weekend. I didn’t think my packing up all her toys would go over so well with a four-year-old.”

  Alison laughed for the first time all morning. “I hear you. Abby’s a sweetheart, but you might only have one box of stuff packed by Monday if she were here helping.”

  “Exactly. Some days it’s a wonder I get anything done.”

  “Want to go out somewhere tonight? Maybe grab a drink?” Alison asked. It was rare that the two of them had any girl time alone. If they met for dinner, Abby usually came along. Alison could use a few drinks and a night out with her best friend, not to mention something to get her mind off of Evan. The sooner she could forget about him, the happier she’d be.

  “Absolutely. Want me to swing by and pick you up at seven?”

  “Sounds perfect.” Maybe the weekend wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  ***

  Evan slammed his shot glass down on the table at Anchors Saturday night, listening to the other guys on his team flirting with the women there. The whiskey burned down his throat, warming his insides. Too young for her. Fuck that. If she didn’t want him, he’d find another woman who did. First, he needed another couple of drinks to erase the images floating through his mind. Alison, legs splayed over his shoulders as he pleasured her. Fuck if he hadn’t ever tasted anything so sweet. The look on her face at the front door as he’d kissed her after dinner. Despite her protests that they were all wrong, she’d clung to him desperately, pulling him closer as he’d swept her mouth with his tongue.

  The worst image of all was the one of her clutching the blanket around herself right before he left. Her face had been flushed from the screaming orgasm he’d given her, her hair was tousled and sexier than fuck, and the panic in her eyes had been overwhelming. What the hell was the woman so afraid of? She’d been more than happy to be swept into his arms and carried off to bed. But the moment he’d held her close, tried to be more than just some guy who’d gone down on her, she’d panicked. Froze him out.

  Evan had the distinct impression Alison didn’t let men into her life very often—not into her townhouse, and definitely not into her bed.

  Hell, didn’t all women want a man that would hold them close? A man that wanted more than just sex and a one-night-stand? They hadn’t even lasted until the sex or one-night part. He’d licked her senseless, loving every fucking second, and she’d practically kicked him out. All that had been missing was her shouting not to let the door hit his ass on the way out.

  It just figured that when he’d found a woman he wanted more than one night with, she couldn’t handle it. No wonder most of his SEAL team was still single—women were just too damn confusing. A mystery most men would never solve.

  Other conversations hummed in the background at Anchors, glasses and beer bottles clinked, and women swarmed around their table. A cute little brunette kept trying to get his attention, but the coy way she bit her lip and gazed at him through hooded eyes did little to tempt him. Mike pulled a sexy blonde onto his lap, and Evan’s jaw almost dropped at the extremely low-cut top she was wearing. Why the hell did women think that was attractive? A little cleavage was enticing, but what man would want the entire bar to see his woman’s goods on full display?

  His mind flashed back to slowly undressing Alison in her bedroom. Kissing her small and supple breasts. She was the type of woman who was completely gorgeous without flaunting it. She didn’t dress provocatively, but the way her clothing sexily draped over her curves drove him wild.

  Hell. So much for forgetting about the strawberry blonde beauty for the night. He needed something to get her off of his mind, but the ladies trying too hard at Anchors just didn’t interest him. At all.

  “Hey baby,” Brent said, flashing a grin at the brunette who’d been hitting on Evan earlier. She winked but wondered off with some of her girlfriends.

  “Shit, what the hell was that about?” Brent muttered.

  “She only has eyes for Evan,” Christopher joked. “Didn’t you see her falling all over him earlier?” He downed the last of his beer and nodded at the waitress walking by, who collected his empty bottle and went off to get another.

  “Fuck this,” Brent said.

  Mike wrapped his arms more tightly around the blonde he was holding and laughed.

  “I know Brent’s problem,” Matthew drawled, a grin spreading across his face as he glanced between the others. “He didn’t get laid the other night.”

  “I told you, you should’ve gone for that redhead at the party,” Mike said as the blonde he was holding excused herself to go to the ladies room. “She was smoking hot and totally into you.”

  Evan’s ears perked up. The party as in…the b
arbeque at Patrick’s? Because the only redhead there had been Alison. And there was no way in hell he was letting Brent anywhere near her.

  Underneath his bad-boy persona, Brent was a decent guy. His sister had been killed years ago by a jilted ex-boyfriend, and he’d been seething when Rebecca had been in the crosshairs of a stalker a few months ago. Brent would protect anyone in danger, especially a woman, with his own life.

  But the rest of the time? The guy was a complete player. He’d been with more women than any of the men on their SEAL team. He channeled his anger and rage over the death of his sister by seeking the pleasure of a woman. And just one woman would never do—that guy needed a constant stream of them. Preferably a new lady every night. No way was Alison going to be his flavor of the week.

  “Hell no. She’s way too sweet for me. And what the fuck makes you think I didn’t get laid?”

  They other laughed as Evan bit back a curse. All that shit about Alison didn’t mean a damn thing. Brent wasn’t even interested in her, so why the hell was his head pounding and blood boiling after listening to that little exchange?

  “You okay?” Patrick asked from beside him.

  “I’m fine,” Evan ground out.

  Patrick raised his eyebrows.

  Hell. He was dating Alison’s best friend. Women talked. This night was just getting better and better.

  “You probably heard I saw Alison again the other night.”

  “Rebecca might have mentioned it,” he commented dryly.

  “Let’s just say it didn’t end well.”

  “Look, I’m hardly the man to give anyone relationship advice, but Rebecca did say Alison’s last boyfriend broke her heart.”

  Evan raised his eyebrows. He didn’t know the what or the how of the circumstances, but his blood heated at the idea of anyone hurting Ali. She deserved more than some prick toying with her feelings. Hell, the woman worked at a hospital taking care of sick kids all day. She’d been worried about him walking her to the door in the rain a few weeks ago because he’d get wet, too. All she did was think about other people. And all that sweetness wrapped up in her sexy little body was almost too much to take.

  Christopher started telling a story about some crazy ex-girlfriend of his just as the waitress brought them another round of drinks. Beer bottles and shot glasses covered the table, and their group was growing louder and more boisterous as the night wore on.

  Evan downed another shot, the second one going down more smoothly than the first. Maybe after a few more he’d forget about the clusterfuck this entire week was turning into. He didn’t see an easy way out of this situation short of pounding on Alison’s door and telling her to give him a fucking chance. There was no way he could show her the kind of man he was if she was going to pull away every time he tried to get close.

  He wanted to know more about her past. What exactly had this ex done that had her so spooked about relationships?

  “The best part of leaving Coronado was knowing I’d never have to see her again,” Christopher continued.

  “The babes were smoking hot out there,” Brent said. “How bad could she have been?”

  Evan’s eyes swept the room. The last thing he needed was to listen to Christopher drone on and on about some chick he’d been with years ago. The brunette from earlier was still watching Evan, and he slid his gaze over her body. She was attractive. Not stunning in the way Ali was, but pretty enough. And hell. Was she licking her lips?

  What was wrong with him tonight?

  Alison wasn’t his. Maybe never would be if she had her way. The too young for her explanation was obviously just an excuse, because she’d been more than happy to have dinner with him—twice—and let him undress her. The memory of going down on her had him groaning in exasperation. It just figured that the one woman he was slowly becoming addicted to wasn’t interested in actually dating him.

  He didn’t take Ali for a one-night-stand kind of girl. She’d obviously frozen up at the thought of them getting too intimate, going any further, but damn. He hadn’t been inside her yet, but he sure didn’t kiss every woman the way he had at her front door. He sure didn’t pleasure every woman so thoroughly with his mouth and his tongue, with no thought but of bringing her to complete ecstasy. She’d been at his mercy, vulnerable and exposed to him, and the power he’d felt as he seized control of her body, kissing, licking, and sucking until he’d sent her soaring had made him feel about ten feet tall. He’d wanted to roar in approval at the complete way she’d surrendered to him.

  But holding her close in bed? Apparently that shit was out of the question.

  The brunette across the bar was still watching him, and he rose from the table.

  Christopher stopped in the middle of his story and gazed over at the brunette batting her lashes as she watched Evan. “She’s hot, buddy.”

  Patrick narrowed his eyes, but hell if Evan was going to let Alison stop him from enjoying himself. He wasn’t planning to go home with the woman, but maybe a little innocent flirting would take the edge off. He wasn’t the type of man that needed a woman to nurse his wounds, but hell if he wasn’t feeling a little battered and bruised after the cold way Ali had dismissed him the other night.

  He was halfway across Anchors in just a few strides, and the brunette left her friends, winding her way through the crowd to meet him. A few male heads turned to watch her as she wove her way through the throngs of people. She was cute. Attractive. But she wasn’t Alison. Before he could say anything, the brunette launched herself into his arms, rubbing her breasts against his chest as she kissed him. His hands slid to her hips, and he set her back down. Her kiss did absolutely nothing for him, but she didn’t seem to notice or care and asked if he wanted to leave.

  Just a few months ago, he probably would’ve taken her up on that offer. Even if he wasn’t feeling it, who would he have been to turn down a good time with a pretty lady? But now? Not a fucking chance.

  She brushed up against him again, getting up on her tip toes as she whispered promises for the night into his ear. Was he ever into women this forward before? Jesus. Maybe he should send this chick Brent’s way.

  She tugged on his earlobe with her teeth, trying to entice him. It had the complete opposite effect, and he pulled away, the pout on her face making him want to groan in exasperation. Maybe he should just call it a night. Not a damn thing had been going his way since he walked in here an hour ago.

  Suddenly, a feeling of dread washing over him.

  His eyes swept over to the door.

  Shit.

  Chapter 14

  Alison’s stomach dropped as she saw Evan kissing the woman in the middle of Anchors. What. The. Hell. For a man who’d acted interested in her, who’d acted almost hurt that she’d brushed him off the other night, he’d sure moved on mighty fast.

  Not that she cared. He was obviously not serious about being in a relationship anyway if he kissed multiple women in a week.

  Holy crap. Had he taken this woman to bed as well? They sure were acting awfully well-acquainted at the moment. Was that woman tugging on his ear with her teeth?

  Alison flushed, anger and hurt coursing through her.

  It just figured that the first guy she’d—surprisingly—been interested in and attracted to was about a million different ways wrong for her. Too young. Too carefree. Too frequently deployed. Too macho. Too into sucking face with women he met in bars.

  “Alison?” Rebecca asked.

  Shoot. They were blocking the doorway, a group of people behind them unable to go in. Well, no time like the present to turn around and leave. There was no way she was staying here after witnessing Evan’s public displays of affection in the middle of Anchors.

  “Rebecca!” Patrick called out, waving at her from across the bar. Hell. The entire table of SEALs looked over their way. So much for escaping without anyone noticing.

  “I have to go,” Alison whispered.

  “What?” A huge smile spread across Rebecca’s face as s
he beamed at Patrick, but she cocked her head toward Alison.

  “I have to go,” Alison repeated, louder this time. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, and she saw Evan trying to untangle himself from the woman he was with.

  “But we just got here. And I drove.” Patrick was already making his way over to them, and there was no way Alison was going to cry in front of any of Evan’s friends. Patrick would certainly give Evan hell for upsetting her, and there was no way she was dealing with the aftermath of that. Better to cut her losses now and get the heck out of there.

  Alison turned and bolted from the restaurant, leaving Rebecca standing there looking completely bewildered. She hurried down the block, tears streaming down her cheeks as she edged around slow-moving pedestrians out for the evening. Families and happy couples blocked her path, and she darted around them, moving faster. Farther away. The more distance she put between Evan and her, the better.

  Why the hell had she been so stupid? Evan was just like every other man—interested in a little fun for the time being but not interested in anything long term. She should never have let him come over on Wednesday. She already knew last weekend that it wouldn’t work between them. But had that stopped her? Not in the slightest. She’d let him into her bed for God’s sake. Shit. Shit. Shit.

  A few people stared at her as she hurried down the block to the boardwalk. She had no idea where she was going and didn’t even care. God, she never should have agreed to go to Anchors with Rebecca. They’d had a nice dinner at one of their favorite seafood restaurants, and then Patrick had texted Rebecca to say the team was meeting up for a drink after a tough day. Why Alison thought she could go where Evan most likely would be was beyond her. Obviously she was a glutton for punishment. She should’ve just taken a cab from the restaurant and left. Or borrowed Rebecca’s car—no doubt Patrick would’ve taken her home.