Protected by a SEAL: Hot SEALs (Volume 5)

by Cat Johnson

  This day just got weirder as time passed. “Never mind. I’ll survive.”

  “Good. I’m getting the rest of the stuff out of the car.”

  “There’s more stuff?”

  “Yeah. A cooler full of food so we don’t have to go out and your suitcase and carry-on.”

  Her eyes widened. “My suitcase? How did you get that? When?”

  “We were already packing you up to move to another hotel. Jon brought your stuff over while you were being questioned at the police station. Same time I stocked up on food.”

  That made sense but one thing didn’t. “When did you, you know, arm up?”

  “Arm up? Where’d you get that term from? Some script?” He lifted his brows high. When she scowled at him all he did was laugh. “Darci brought me my things from home.”

  “You have all that . . . stuff lying around your house?” She eyed the bag of weaponry.

  “Not lying around. In a secure gun safe with a lock. I gave Darci the combination.” He paused, keeping his focus on her. “You have a problem with guns?”

  “No. I was just wondering.”

  “Good.” He drew in a breath and looked around. “It’s not so bad here you know.”

  “No? It looks like the furniture is from 1979.” She hadn’t lived through the seventies but she’d seen enough TV shows and movies set then to know this place fit the bill for that era.

  “So, things are a little dated. It’s neat and it’s clean. Even the bathrooms and kitchen look immaculate.”

  So he hadn’t been just looking for bugs of the surveillance nature. Rick had evaluated the cleanliness of his prized rental as well. Probably so she wouldn’t complain.

  There was still plenty she could find to be unhappy with. The sofa cushions, in a putrid nubby avocado green fabric, looked like they’d been stuffed with lumpy potatoes. She could only imagine what the mattresses looked like.

  She looked up in time to see Rick shaking his head at her. “Get used to the place, princess. I’m going to the car to get our stuff.”

  “Fine.”

  Little did he know she would have offered to help, at least with her own suitcase. But he’d ordered her to stay put, so she was staying put. That would teach him a lesson to not be such a tyrant.

  While he struggled with whatever was hidden away in the car, Sierra decided to see for herself what horrors her accommodations held. She’d only gone a few steps toward the kitchen before a wall of windows faced her. Beyond the salt-frosted glass an endless vista of water stretched, blue and sparkling beneath the rays of the sun.

  “Not so bad now, huh?” Rick had somehow snuck up on her.

  She turned away from the view. “It is beach front. Just like you said.”

  He held a large cooler, which he set heavily onto the long wooden table that was in front of the window. Sierra wasn’t sure she was up for what he’d brought for them to eat. Probably beef jerky or some other manly treat.

  To her surprise, he pulled out a carton of eggs and one of milk, bacon, lettuce, deli packages of cold cuts and some really big steaks. He glanced up and caught her watching him. “There’s a couple of grocery bags still in the car with bread, mayo, mustard, salad dressing, potatoes, bottled water and some cans of soup.”

  “Okay.”

  He paused with the steak package in his hand. “You’re not a vegetarian, are you?”

  “No.” It was a good thing too, given the amount of meat he’d brought.

  “I figure we’re set for the next few days, at least.”

  “Sure. I mean, why would we ever want to leave?”

  “Sierra, why aren’t you taking this seriously?

  “Because I don’t believe this threat is as bad as you think it is.”

  He closed the refrigerator door and flipped the lid of the cooler shut. But he didn’t look happy his cold groceries were all stowed. Instead he shook his head. “I don’t believe you’re this complacent. How can you possibly be as unconcerned as you’re pretending? You’re lying. If not to me, than to yourself.”

  “I’m not lying. Yes, I’m horrified about the camera in my bathroom. The thought of it makes my skin crawl. But an over-the-top fan or some greedy paparazzi trying to sell pictures to the tabloids doesn’t mean my life is in danger.”

  “Sierra, someone either shot at you or they were aiming at me because I was getting between them and you. Either way, it’s not good.

  She screwed her face up at his theory. “How do you even know it was a bullet?

  His eyes popped wide. “I felt the breeze from it flying by my head.”

  “Maybe it was a big bug or something.” She shrugged.

  Just when she thought he couldn’t look more shocked, his eyes popped wider. “It splintered the doorframe. I had the debris in my hair. Why can’t you get it?”

  His tone, his treating her like a liar or like she was stupid, had her anger rising.

  “Well, maybe if you didn’t keep me in the dark about everything, I would get it. I can’t use my phone. I can’t talk to Roger. I have no clue what kind of investigation is happening. You didn’t even want to tell me where we were going.”

  “Fine. If that’s your problem, that you don’t know what’s going on, I’ll tell you. What do you want to know?” He folded his arms over his chest and leaned back against the kitchen table.

  “Everything.”

  He rolled his eyes. “All right. Fine. Ask.”

  She felt justified in being suspicious of his offer. “So I can ask anything and you’ll answer it?

  “Yes.” He was getting annoyed. Good. She liked that she could get to him like he got to her.

  Sierra decided to put this new transparency of his to the test. “Is your family really as sickeningly sweet and happy and normal as you make out or are you full of shit?”

  His brows rose high. “I tell you to ask anything and I’ll answer and that’s what you want to know? About my childhood and family?”

  “That and about a dozen other things. But let’s start with that.”

  He shook his head. “How about we’ll get to that. First, you need to understand how serious this threat is.”

  She wasn’t in the mood for a lecture and just as she expected, he wasn’t willing to answer anything. “I know exactly how serious it is.” And it wasn’t as bad as he thought. At least, she wouldn’t allow herself to believe it was.

  Spinning on the rubber sole of her running shoes, she turned and decided to go upstairs.

  She’d see what was upstairs. First, because it was away from him. Mostly that actually, but she also had to find herself a bedroom that she might have a hope of getting some sleep in.

  And once she found it, she’d slam the door on Rick and his lecture—if this hippy surfer’s shack even had doors on the bedrooms.

  Stomping to make her displeasure with him known, she ascended the stairs. At the top, there was one larger room and two smaller ones. There was no question which one she was taking.

  She was about to go inside and inspect further when she heard Rick’s heavy footsteps on the stairs behind her.

  Of course he’d follow her. Not a surprise at all—

  The feel of his hand on her arm had her squealing as he spun her to face him.

  “Where is your phone?” His eyes flashed.

  He looked so angry, she bit back the smart ass reply that had been on the tip of her tongue and instead said, “Downstairs in my purse.”

  Rick stomped down the stairs. She followed and made it down in time to see him upend her bag and all of her things cascade onto the tabletop.

  “What are you doing?”

  He pawed through the items on the table, latching on to her cell. He held it up, sneering. “I could ask you the same question, princess. What the hell are you doing posting pictures online?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “According to Chris you did. He just texted. Darci saw a new post from you on Instagram. Something about your new shoes. When the fuck a
re you going to believe me you’re in danger? Turning on that phone for even a minute could lead them right to—”

  Fuming, Sierra took a step closer. He was big but she was mad.

  “I didn’t turn my phone on. I didn’t post anything. I’m not even wearing shoes. You ass.”

  “Then how—“

  “I have a social media intern. She posts as me. All the time. All sorts of things. When would I have posted? I’ve been with you the entire time. You obnoxious, mean, nasty . . . caveman.”

  She delivered a slap to his arm, hard enough it stung her hand. He probably didn’t even feel it. His damn muscles were like iron. She turned away so he wouldn’t see the angry tears in her eyes.

  This time, his hand on her arm was gentle. “Sierra.”

  “What?” She had no intention of turning around, but he turned her toward him.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

  “You’re right. You shouldn’t have.” Her emotions all over the place, she teetered on the precipice between anger and tears.

  The tears won out. As one big fat one spilled onto her cheek, she slapped at him again, hitting his chest this time. His damn pec muscle was as hard as the rest of him.

  She cradled her hand against her chest. “Ow.”

  The corners of his lips tipped up. “You done hitting me now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Come here.” Rick pulled her to him. “I knew you were bound to break soon. It’s too much stress to hold in.”

  “I’m not crying from the stress. I’m crying because I’m so mad at you.” She pulled her head away from his chest to glare at him.

  “That’s fine. I’m pretty tough skinned. I can handle it.” His gaze dropped to her lips, before he pulled it back up to her eyes. He brushed his thumb across the wet skin where the tear had run down her cheek.

  It had been so long since a man had touched her for real. Her last relationship had ended long ago. The only physical contact she’d had since had been in front of the cameras and crew.

  She drew in a shaky breath. She wasn’t sure if that was from everything happening with the stalker or the fact Rick was making her feel things inside she hadn’t felt in a long time.

  It was ridiculous. She’d thought she’d hated him. Or at least she hated how he acted.

  She shouldn’t be so aware of the heat of his skin against hers. His casual touch shouldn’t make her stomach tighten. And she really shouldn’t be picturing him tossing her onto that bed upstairs.

  “Rick?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m still pissed at you. This doesn’t mean anything.”

  “What doesn’t—” Before Rick could finish whatever he’d been about to say, Sierra fisted his shirt and pulled, bringing his mouth close enough she could crash her lips against his.

  He drew in a deep breath through his nose and leaned into the kiss. She felt the breadth of his hands span her hips as he pulled her closer.

  Angling his head, he took the kiss deeper.

  His mouth was warm. His body against hers reminded her of all she’d been missing during her extended period of self-imposed celibacy.

  A moan she never intended, one of mingled frustration and satisfaction, snuck out of her. He responded with a deep grumbling groan of his own and kissed her harder.

  He slid one leg between hers, settling in as if he was going to stay awhile. Which had her thinking—why hadn’t he pulled away from her? He should be telling her they needed to remain vigilant in case they were followed. He should be setting up cameras or cleaning his guns or something.

  What kind of professional was he? He shouldn’t be fraternizing with the clients. What would the owners of GAPS think of this behavior?

  Sierra pulled back from the kiss. “Why are you kissing me?”

  Frowning, he leaned back, but he didn’t move his hands. “Because you kissed me.”

  She tried to ignore the feel of those big fingers pressing into her flesh. “Yes, but why aren’t you fighting me on it?”

  The furrow between his brows disappeared as his lips tipped up in a smile. “Hey, I’m up for hate sex as much as the next guy. What’s the matter, princess? Who are you trying to talk out of this? You or me?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You know I hate when you call me that.”

  “I know. That’s why I did it.” Rick’s crooked smile didn’t last long before his mouth was on hers again. He kissed her hard and then pulled back. “Make up your mind yet?”

  She had to swallow the dryness from her throat to be able to talk. “About what?”

  “If I’m going to take you upstairs or go make myself a sandwich instead.”

  She felt her brow furrow. “That’s the choices?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And you’re saying you’d be just fine if I said go make a sandwich?”

  “Sure. I’m hungry and the store had the really good turkey breast, not that fake stuff.” He brushed one thumb over her forehead. “Stop frowning. You’ll get wrinkles. That’ll probably cost you a good million a film.”

  His cocky grin as he poked fun at her didn’t match the physical evidence, the hard length pressing into her as he went back to holding her hips tightly against him.

  He might pretend to be immune to the temptation she’d dangled before him. He could say he’d be just as happy with a cold turkey sandwich, but he was lying. His body told the truth.

  Rick went from just holding her, to making small circles with his thumbs. His hands were so huge he could reach all the way around to her stomach.

  That lazy motion against the thin, skin-tight fabric of the exercise pants did things to her. Made her want his hands in other places. She was breathing heavier. Her pulse pounded.

  Her damn body was betraying her by craving the enemy’s touch. She was obviously as into hate sex as Rick.

  Fine. As long as they both knew where they stood, there was no problem.

  “You can make your sandwich later.”

  “All right.” His voice was low and throaty, his eyes narrow as his heavily-lidded gaze met hers.

  He dropped his hold on her and just when she thought he’d toss her over his shoulder like the caveman he was, and carry her up the stairs to have hot, angry sex with her, he turned toward the door.

  Bending down, he grabbed the strap of the duffle and hoisted it onto his shoulder before turning back to her.

  So much for the big prelude she’d worked up in her imagination. The man had as much of a hard-on for his weapons as he did for her.

  He was so annoying. And frustrating. And . . .

  Damn, she was totally willing to overlook all of that. At least for the next hour or so.

  CHAPTER 16

  Duffle bag on his shoulder, Rick swept his arm toward the staircase. “Ladies first.”

  She let out an unhappy sounding humph. Why, he didn’t know.

  What? Had she expected him to sweep her off her feet and carry her up the damn stairs?

  He had a bag full of guns and ammo as well as sophisticated equipment. He wasn’t leaving all that out in the open downstairs while he was upstairs getting busy with the lovely but annoying Sierra Cox.

  He watched her ahead of him on the staircase. That little wiggle that came with every step she took was enough to make him be able to ignore she was still wearing his sister’s pants. He’d remedy that concern immediately by stripping the spirited Ms. Cox of that outfit and tossing her onto the mattress.

  Inside the largest bedroom in the three bedroom cottage, which no doubt Sierra planned to claim as her own, Rick slid the duffle bag off his shoulder and set it onto the floor.

  Sierra was still moving toward the bed when he caught up with her. He reached out and spun her toward him. She was so tiny in the midsection he could practically wrap his hands completely around her waist.

  He pulled her close, catching her gaze with his. “I’m going to feed you while we’re here and you’re going t
o eat.”

  “We’re standing next to the bed and you’re still thinking about food.” She let out a humph. “That figures.”

  “Don’t worry. I can think about two things at once.”

  One dark brow rose. “I’m not so sure about that.”

  Rick smiled, shaking his head. “You are such a brat.”

  Brat hadn’t been the B-word he had in mind, but he’d tempered himself.

  She obviously wanted a good old-fashioned hate fuck and he was just the man to give it to her. But Sierra Cox was as changeable as the wind and one wrong word could change her mind. Send her into a tailspin that ended with him on the wrong side of the bedroom door.

  Before she could respond he kissed her hard.

  Kissing Sierra was one way to make sure she kept her comments to herself. Rick had another way to occupy her mouth that he’d get to later.

  That plan had him throbbing inside his pants.

  For now, he was happy to take her mouth, hard and demanding, just as he intended to treat the rest of her. Just like he knew she wanted.

  She made that desire apparent when she yanked hard, pulling his shirt out from where it had been tucked into his waistband.

  After running her hands up the bare skin of his back, she raked her nails back down hard enough her fingers left a painful tingle behind. Possibly not hard enough to draw blood, but probably hard enough to leave scratch marks.

  Marking her territory? Or just trying to show him who was boss?

  Probably the latter, since she wouldn’t want him for more than a night or two. She was scratching an itch. He knew that.

  That was okay with him. He had a few itches to scratch himself.

  Sierra pulled her head back. “Take off this damn thing.” She slapped at his shoulder holster.

  Rick took a step back and went to work on ridding himself of both the shoulder and the leg holster. “Gladly. You take off my sister’s clothes.”

  “Why? You having problems down below because I’m wearing your sister’s clothes?” As she got an evil glint in her eye, the term she-devil came to mind.

  “I have no problems down below. I promise you that.” And he’d show her as soon as he had rid himself of his weapons.