She is. She is feeling the same sense of anticipation.
For the first time this evening, I feel that I’m no longer the predator. When she looks up at me with those thoughtful, green eyes, I feel completely under her spell. She could ask anything of me, and I would do it.
It feels good to surrender to my attraction, for just a moment.
But as she wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me in for our second kiss, I turn the tables again. I kiss her back. As we kiss, I move forward. I keep moving, my lips and my feet and my body, corralling her back towards the entryway wall until her back is pressed against it.
I kiss her hungrily, and to my surprise, she kisses me back with just as much force and passion. It’s a pleasant surprise. This timid, shy girl has fire inside of her.
Though she’s matching the force of my kiss, I once again feel dominant. I have her pinned to the wall. She lifts a leg and wraps it around my back.
I press into her more. She moans.
I feel her move her hips. My breath is coming out heavy and hard. I stop kissing her long enough to whisper her name in her ear.
“Valerie…I want you.” Her leg is still wrapped around me, and I pin her forcefully to the wall.
I’m getting hard, now, and I feel her hips grinding against my erection.
“Yes,” she whispers. Her hands move from my neck up into my hair. It feels good. I feel her slide her fingernails through the hair at the base of my head. “Yes,” she says again.
We’re not even really inside her apartment yet. The door is just a foot away, and on my other side, I see a coat rack. This is the entryway. It’s dark, but out of the corner of my eye I see dim light, maybe left on in a kitchen area.
It’s not a lot of light, but it will be enough to see what I want to see.
I find the bottom of her blouse while we’re kissing. I pull it up over her head. She lifts her arms, helping me free her from the black material.
As soon as it’s off, I pull back. I want to see her. I want to take it all in.
The black bra she’s wearing is lacy and delicate, ebony against her ivory skin. I groan as I move my hand to feel the fabric. I barely graze my fingertips against the textured surface. I feel her nipples stiffen as I slide my thumb over the fabric.
“You’re stunning,” I whisper. I look up from her breasts and back to her eyes. I’m not just saying it. Really, she is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. She’s looking up at me, her fingers still wrapped in my curls.
“Why are you hurting?” she asks me as our eyes meet, out of nowhere.
I look away. Damn it. I knew that she could see right through me. Her question, though unexpected, is oddly comforting. It actually feels good to have someone see me for once. I feel so out of place among civilians, yet I haven’t been on a team of SEALs for so long.
“I’m not,” I say. It’s a conditioned response. I’m used to putting up a tough front.
“You are, though, Garrett,” she says. She moves her fingers through my hair; I feel her nails rake gently against my scalp.
“I’m okay right now,” I say, looking intently at her. And, for the moment at least, that’s the truth. When I look at her—standing in front of me in just her bra, low-rise jeans, and kitten heels—I feel my worries slip away.
“Good,” she says.
The way she says it is not casual. It’s sincere. Like it really means something to her, whether I’m suffering or not.
I lift my finger away from her breast. I place it on her lips. I want to feel the curve of them. She bends into me, like a sapling swaying against a strong wind.
Our eyes are still locked. I feel it again—a slight loss of control. She does something to me. Something that I’m not used to…I haven’t ever felt it with other women I’ve taken to bed for distraction.
“I want you to feel good, Garrett,” she says. Her lips move beneath my finger. It’s maybe one of the sweetest, kindest things anyone’s said to me in a long time.
“You’re already making that happen,” I say.
I feel her hands moving, now. Her fingers drop from my head, down to the waist of my pants. We’re both still breathing hard.
As her fingers slide against my waistband, I feel my breath coming out in bursts. She plays her fingers against my waistband, then moves her hands up to the hem of my tee. I let her pull it off of me, helping her at the top, where I’m too tall for her small frame to reach.
Once my shirt is off, she presses her hands against my torso. I feel her soft hands caress my abs, and I let out a jagged exhale as her fingers once again reach the waistband of my jeans. This time, she doesn't stop. She undoes the button of my fly and pulls down the zipper.
I can hardly catch my breath. I’ve had to swim fifty meters underwater without coming up for air. Believe me, I know how to control my breathing. Yet, Valerie is making me breathless.
She pulls against my jeans and briefs at the same time, and I feel both layers slide down to the floor. Then, my hard-on springs free.
I hear her soft gasp. I’m well hung, and I can tell that she likes it.
She lowers her body in front of me until she’s kneeling on the floor. I see her move some shoes away, creating a free place for her body. This reminds me that we’re still in her cramped, apartment entryway. If I wasn’t so fucking turned on, I might think it was funny. But right now, I can’t think. I feel her lips circle around my dick, and her hot wet tongue flicks against me.
“Mmm…” I groan, lifting my chin and closing my eyes.
This is heaven. My whole body relaxes. Any remaining stressors or tension that were clinging to me are suddenly gone, as her lips and tongue work their magic.
“Jesus, Valerie,” I moan.
I seriously don’t know if I’ve ever gotten head this good. I feel my dick becoming rock-hard with desire. She moves her mouth up and down my shaft, sucking so hard I feel like I’m going to come right then and there. It takes every inch of willpower in my possession not to, but I manage.
When she pulls away and stands, I kiss her. “That was fucking amazing,” I say.
“Good,” she responds with a cute little smile.
“Bedroom?” I say. It comes out gruffly, like an urgent demand. And hell, it is. I need to taste her and pleasure her; I need to be inside of her.
She takes my hand and leads me to the bedroom. It’s small but neat and tidy, dimly lit from the light left on down the hall. The queen-sized bed takes up nearly the entire room. Once we’re inside, I pick her up and place her on the bed.
Now that she’s lying on her back, I crawl on top of her and kiss her again. This time, as our mouths open and our tongues play, I pass my fingers over the waistband of her jeans. Slowly, I unbutton them and pull them down over her hips.
I move my lips from her mouth to her neck. As I kiss her neck, I slide my fingers against her panties. They’re lacy, just like her bra, and damp with her desire.
Now, it’s her turn to groan.
I don’t rush. This is the fun part.
I continue pulling her jeans down, until they’re around her ankles and then off of her completely. Using my fingers, I stroke her between her legs, over her panties. Finally, I pull the damp underwear off of her and spread her legs. I guide one of her legs over my shoulder, and then, I begin licking her. She tastes better than ice water after a trip through a hot, dry desert.
Her hips rise off of the bed each time I run my tongue up and down her. I don’t want to stop kissing her, but as her moans become harder, sharper, I feel my own desire peaking to the point that I can’t hold back anymore.
I want to be inside of her.
One more lick, a lingering suck, and then I pull back. I can barely breathe, I need her so badly.
When my cock finally enters her and fills her up, I can’t think straight. The only thought in my mind is how good this feels, how wet and warm and tight she feels around me. The feel of her hips moving, her nails scraping against my back. H
er cries, letting me know that she’s in the same state of ecstasy that I am.
As we both come, I don’t think I could even state my name if you held a gun to my head. I know nothing. A sense of release sweeps through me like a tidal wave.
I close my eyes and let my body fall down heavily onto the bed. We’re both covered with sweat; I can feel the light breeze of the ceiling fan cool my skin as I rest in stillness. In another minute, I feel Valerie nestle against me.
On another night, with another woman, I might have resisted. I might have changed positions, so that I wasn’t holding her.
But tonight, it feels natural to hold her.
I wrap my arms around her, and then rest my head against hers. I kiss the top of her head.
“Goodnight, sweetheart,” I whisper.
I have no idea where the words come from, or what compels me to say them. Maybe it’s the biochemical cocktail swirling through my body after the intense orgasm. Maybe it’s the way she looked at me and told me that she wanted me to feel good.
The word “sweetheart” feels good on my lips. She feels good in my arms.
Before I can think another thought, my eyes close and I slip into a deep, dreamless sleep.
I wake up with a start.
There was a noise in the room.
All of my fighter instincts surface. I sit bolt upright, taking in all of the information I can about my surroundings.
Though I don’t instantly remember where I am, it comes back to me quickly. I feel Valerie at my side; I see the nightstand on my right, with a ceramic lamp sitting on it. The door to the room is open, and it’s opening more with each passing second, though I don’t see anyone in the doorway. My hand reaches for the lamp. I don’t have my gun, but the heavy ceramic will work if I smash it over someone’s skull with enough force.
All of this happens in a split second.
Then, I look down to the very bottom of the doorway, and I see the source of the noise—a cat.
I feel my heartbeat slow. Valerie stirs in the bed next to me.
“Garrett? What are you doing?”
I still have the lamp in my hand. I’ve yanked the chord out of the socket, and I’m holding it up like a club.
I set it down slowly. “Sorry…reflexes…I thought…”
The cat jumps and lands on the bed.
“It’s just Einstein,” Valerie says, reaching for the cat.
“Right. Sorry,” I say again.
I lie down again and hold my body still, listening to the cat purr as Valerie pets him.
After a few moments, I hear Valerie’s breathing become slower, steadier. I know that she’s fallen back to sleep.
I’m wide awake. I keep looking at the door. It’s open; there’s my exit.
My arms aren’t wrapped around Valerie any longer. I can move without disturbing her. I sit up slightly, as she and her cat continue to snooze away.
Perfect. I can slip out now.
This will make it easier on both of us in the morning. No awkward goodbyes.
I take one last look at her sleeping form. She’s beautiful, even when she’s sleeping. It’s not like I have a photographic memory, but years of mental training has given me the ability to intently focus at will. I do this, now, with Valerie. I focus on the curve of her cheek, and the way her blond hair falls across her forehead. I take in her thick lashes, her perfect nose, the way her lips move just slightly with each exhale.
I don’t want to forget her.
But I also know that I should be on my way. I don’t live in San Antonio, and my work doesn’t exactly support lasting relationships. That’s not what tonight was about, and I’m sure both of us know that.
Tonight was good—better than good, it was fucking amazing—but it’s time to be on my way.
I pad out of the room silently, escaping a foreign bedroom for the second time that night.
I’m careful to lock the front door from the inside before I leave, and the click as it closes gives me satisfaction that Valerie will be safe and sound until morning.
The parking lot is completely quiet and still, and the roar of my bike feels out of place. I steer out of the lot as quickly as I can, hoping that my engine doesn’t wake her.
I turn out of the lot and onto the street, and soon, the apartment—and the ravishing blonde on the second floor—are fading into the distance behind me.
Chapter 4
Valerie
“Hey.” I’m holding my phone with my cheek and shoulder, using my hands to pour freshly brewed coffee into my favorite, oversized mug. It’s a mug one of my pre-algebra students gave me after my first year of teaching. “English is important, but math is importanter,” it says.
“Are you home?” I ask. As Liz’s “wingwoman”, I feel responsible for checking up on her. I also need to tell someone about my own night.
“Yeah…just walked in the door a few minutes ago. Oh my God, Val, I had the most amazing night. I mean, that guy that I left with? He was like, the most incredible guy ever.”
“Yeah?”
I add cream and sugar to my coffee, and give it a stir. The liquid turns toffee-colored, just the way I like it. I carry my drink to the kitchen table and sit down on a wooden chair with my knees tucked up to my chest. Einstein is weaving through the chair’s legs, reminding me that it’s well past his breakfast hour.
“I mean, he lives in a really nice area…like, Val, really nice. He works for Braxton and Miller—he’s like, some kind of senior financial advisor or something.”
“So, things went…well?” I ask.
Liz and I have been friends since high school, but we’re very different people. While she’s always been impressed by wealth and prestige, that’s never been my thing. I can tell she’s pleased with her dude’s home and job, but I don’t really get it. Just because the guy’s rich, doesn’t make it a great night.
“I mean, was he a nice guy?” I add.
“Oh, yeah,” Liz says. “He’s totally nice. We fooled around a little bit and then fell asleep, and this morning, when he dropped me off, he gave me this really sweet kiss goodbye.”
I feel my heart squeeze in my chest. Even though she has no idea, it’s like Liz is rubbing it in my face that Garrett left without saying goodbye.
“That’s great,” I say. I’m trying to be happy for my friend, but my voice comes out strained. I think she picks up on it.
“Here I am going on and on about me…what about you? Did anything happen with Charlie’s friend?”
It takes me a minute to remember what she’s talking about. Then, I remember that Charlie is the guy she went home with. Mr. Nice-Guy financial advisor.
“Oh…um…no, not really.”
“Val!” Liz says, her voice full of exasperation. “What did you do? He was totally willing to hook up with you.”
“Willing” to hook up with me? Like I’m some kind of charity case, looking for “willing” volunteers? I feel myself bristle at Liz’s word choice.
“Actually,” I say, drawing the word out and then pausing to sip my coffee, just for effect. “I did end up meeting a guy. A really handsome guy, towards the end of the night.”
“Meeting” doesn’t seem like the right word for what Garrett and I did last night. And “handsome” barely does him justice. But I don’t really know how else to put Garrett’s mind-blowingly good looks into words without sounding like I’m exaggerating.
“Really? What happened?”
“We came back to my place,” I say.
“What?!” Liz howls. She sounds genuinely surprised and happy for me. “No!” she shouts.
I giggle. My annoyance towards my friend fades, and I feel happy once again about my good news.
“Tell me everything,” she says.
“We…umm…” I bite my lip, thinking over the night before. There’s no way I’m going to go into all of the juicy details. I’m just not that comfortable talking about sex.
But I do have to share something, so I manage t
o squeak out, “We slept together.” The words string together, all in a big rush.
I can barely believe that it happened, and as I say the words out loud, it sounds even more surreal. My friends, especially Liz, know that I’m not a one-night stand kind of girl. I also haven’t been dating much—all right, at all—lately, so my sex life has been pretty much non-existent.
I never have news like this to share. It’s always Liz sharing her stories with me, never the other way around.
“You didn’t!” she shrieks.
I giggle again. “We did,” I say.
“How was it?”
“Good.”
I feel myself blush. I take another sip of coffee, and as I swallow, I remember the way Garret looked, his body naked and poised above me. I can remember his tattoos—the Roman numeral twenty-three on his bicep, an eagle on his chest, inked waves lapping up along his forearm. I remember the way his muscles bunched as he moved over me, causing the tattoos to ripple.
“It was great, actually,” I add.
“Valerie! I am so happy for you. What’s his name? Where is he from? What does he do?”
She fires the questions at me so fast, I barely have time to process them. Her words seem like a foreign language. Nothing about what Garrett and I did last night seems to fit in with her questions. What does he do? He looks at me, with those dark, alluring eyes; he kisses me like there’s no tomorrow; he makes me feel like a goddess.
But I know that those aren’t the answers my friend is looking for.
“Umm…well, he said he does something with criminal justice. I’m not quite sure. His name is…his name is Garrett. I don’t know where he’s from, but he travels a lot, all over Texas.”
“Garrett what? We could look him up online…do a little snooping.”
“I’m not sure of his last name,” I admit.
“Oh…well, you’re going to see him again, right? Charlie is taking me out to dinner tonight, to Verve. I could ask him if he’ll add two more to the reservation.”
I set my coffee cup down. Einstein jumps up into my lap and rubs his face against my upper arm. He really wants to eat.
Secret Daddy Surprise - A Secret Baby Romance (Once a SEAL, Always a SEAL Book 4) Page 3
