To Tempt a SEAL

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To Tempt a SEAL Page 3

by Sara Jane Stone


  After the man moved away from the stairs, Lucia moved closer to Cade. “What did you say to him?”

  “I may have suggested I saw someone cheating at the craps table,” he said, scanning the area. Moving quickly, he unhooked the velvet rope and led her up the darkened stairs. She went willingly, excitement pounding through her veins.

  “Here,” he said when they reached a dark corner cabana. The doors leading to the interior poolside room appeared closed and locked, but a pair of lounge chairs covered in dark blue cushions remained on the balcony overlooking the club.

  “Turn around,” he murmured as he moved behind her. His fingers toyed with the straps of her red dress and lowered them down her shoulders. “And tell me what you see.”

  “People.” She gasped as he drew her dress down to her waist, revealing her black lace bra to the night air. Her nipples pebbled, begging for his touch. “Everywhere.”

  Her breasts were left wanting as his hand moved to her legs and lifted her skirt until it bunched at her waist. A thrill ran through her. All those people below, and yet she was on the verge of losing herself in this moment. Being here, with him, felt wild and wanton, so far removed from the walls holding her trapped in her life back home.

  “When you come…” His fingers teased the edge of her lace thong, and she spread her legs, opening for him. “When you scream my name, will they hear you?”

  “No,” she gasped. His finger slipped beneath the edge of her underwear. “Maybe. I don’t care.”

  “Does this fit your fantasy? Is this what you want?” he demanded. “Tell me.”

  She turned to face him and looped her arms around his neck. His hand moved over her, and his fingers ran down her backside, touching, exploring. Her hips rocked against him, demanding friction.

  “I want you,” she said. “Make me scream your name. Over and over. I don’t care if they hear. I want the fantasy. Please.”

  She saw a flash of hesitation in his eyes. Had she said too much? Pushed too far? But it vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Thank goodness. If he walked away now, leaving her body begging for release, she might never recover.

  “I want to taste you.” He cupped her jaw, and his fingers brushed the place where the mask met her skin. Then his lips claimed hers. He opened her mouth with his tongue and explored every inch. When he broke the kiss, his breath came in sharp, needy gasps.

  “Jesus…” she murmured.

  “How would you feel about a doubleheader?” he asked. “Two and three right here. On that chair with hundreds of people dancing below.”

  “Yes. Please.” She was begging now, but she didn’t give a damn.

  “Thank God.” He swept her into his arms as if she was light as a feather and gently laid her down on the cushions. Some rich, possibly famous person had probably paid a fortune to sunbathe on this lounge before the hotel’s pool transformed into a nightclub. And now she was lying here with her designer dress decorating her waist, her underwear exposed.

  She turned her head to one side and watched as he moved to the foot of the chair and lowered down to his knees.

  “Spread your legs for me,” he ordered.

  She obeyed, resting her head back and closing her eyes. His hands moved up her thighs and guided them apart. With one hand, he shifted her underwear to the side.

  “You’re glistening under the moonlight.” His breath teased the parts of her body waiting and hoping for Mr. Panty Melting’s kiss. “I can see all of you. And I fucking love that you’re bare.”

  His fingers touched her smooth folds, drawing circles around her clit. Her hips bucked up, and her thighs clenched.

  “Keep your legs spread,” he demanded, withdrawing his hands. “Or I’ll tie you up.”

  Heat flared in her core, and she felt the parts of her body level with his eyes pulse with need. “Do it,” she whispered.

  She heard movement, followed by his hands slipping her feet into her shoes. Gently, he wrapped the ribbon around her ankle and the chair’s metal leg. After securing the binding with a tight knot, he moved to the other foot and repeated the process.

  “Better,” he said, running his hand up her bound leg.

  She felt his broad shoulders, still covered by his tuxedo jacket, between her thighs. Later, once they’d crossed off a few more items on her list, she wanted to see him stripped down. She wanted to explore his too-perfect body. And maybe learn his fantasies.

  His tongue lapped at her entrance. Once. Twice. And she pushed aside thoughts of his fantasies. Her world was reduced to his mouth. Tasting. Teasing…

  “You like that,” he said, slipping a finger inside her.

  “Yes.”

  “Tell me,” he demanded. “I want to hear you.”

  Her hips bucked up to meet his mouth. The sound of his voice pushed her closer and closer. He ran his tongue back and forth over her clit, as if offering her the show-no-mercy approach to oral sex.

  “Oh, God,” she said. “Just like that.”

  “This?” His tongue traded places with his fingers. This man knew how to touch her.

  “Yes,” she whimpered. “Don’t say another word. Please. Just kiss me.”

  She craved the sound of his voice, but right now, she needed his mouth on her sex. And he obliged, putting his lips on her, his tongue inside her—

  The orgasm slammed into her. Her whole body arched, and her ankles pulled against her bonds. And his tongue, his fingers… Relentless.

  “Cade!” she cried. “Oh, Cade, please.”

  He stayed with her, taking his cues from her body, waiting until her wild, bucking hips eased down to the chair before he drew back.

  “What’s your name, gorgeous?”

  “Hmm?” It was all she could manage. The pleasure maintained a stronghold on her body. Music drifted up from below, mingled with voices, but she didn’t care. Nothing mattered but the bliss, so much greater than she’d imagined when she’d closed her eyes and dreamed of this alone in her bed.

  “I think we can cross off oral sex so good that you forget your own name. So we’re two down with two to go,” the rough, oh-so-sexy voice said. “And Lucia, the night’s still young.”

  Chapter Four

  Cade stared down at the woman writhing on the lounge chair and fought the urge to rip off her mask and see her glow. If he had his way, he’d carry her up to his room and strip her down so he could see every inch of her in the light before he buried himself inside her. But part of him knew he should walk away now, before he broke more of the rules he’d written for himself.

  Don’t get in too deep. Don’t get involved. You’ll only hurt her when you redeploy.

  “I feel so good,” she murmured. “Even after.”

  Except there was no fucking way he was walking away from the damn near hypnotic blend of sexy and innocent tied to the lounge chair. Not tonight.

  Besides, hadn’t she been clear that she didn’t want anything beyond tonight?

  “I want more, Cade.”

  His cock agreed, begging to be released. But it was too soon for number four on the Post-it note list. He wanted to draw this out, because in the morning, he would have to face the fact that he’d broken a string of promises.

  The sound of footsteps on the stairs drew his attention away from the tempting woman. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a security guard climbing the steps.

  “Time to go.” He knelt at her feet and untied the ribbons.

  “Someone’s coming?” she whispered, a note of panic eclipsing desire. “Here?”

  “Security,” he confirmed, drawing her up with one hand while lowering her skirt with the other. He surveyed his options and wished he could call for an extraction team so that they could fast rope out of there.

  “We need to hide until the guard leaves.” He took her hand and drew her away from the lounge chair and into the shadows by the cabana door. He pulled on the padlock and thanked his lucky stars when it opened. The same staff member who’d left the cushions on t
he chairs after the pool area closed for the night had likely forgotten to lock the damn thing.

  “In here.” He led her into the dark space. He angled his body in a way that shielded her and allowed him to keep an eye on the door. He could feel the rise and fall of her breasts, her chest pressed up against his.

  “We’re safe here,” he assured her. “Even if they find us, they’ll just ask us to leave.”

  “You’ve been here before?” she whispered. “Hiding from Vegas security?”

  “Not at this club. But when I was younger, I had a run-in or two with the bouncers at some of the Vegas hotspots.” Back when he’d run wild—desperate to get away from his parents’ fighting, and after that ended, his father’s pain—he’d ignored the rules, including the Nevada state laws prohibiting underage drinking. And he’d found ways to evade security after he’d been caught once or twice.

  “But I’ve learned a thing or two since then,” he added.

  Footsteps approached the cabana, and he pressed a finger to Lucia’s lush lips. Calling on his years of training, he did his best to focus on the sounds outside the door, not the woman pressed up against him. But the way her fingers clung to the lapels of his tux, as if trying to decide if she should trust him—or make a run for it—threatened to split his attention in half.

  If she didn’t believe he could save them from a bouncer with a flashlight, he doubted she’d relinquish her mask tonight. And he wanted to pull those strings and see every inch of her. His desire mounted the more time he spent with Natalie’s little sister. He wanted—

  “All clear up here,” a security guard said. “The day crew left the cushions out. But I don’t see anyone. I’m taking my break.”

  The footsteps grew distant, headed for the stairs, but Cade hung back, refusing to leave their hiding place until he knew the coast was clear.

  When he felt certain they’d be spared an encounter with security, he murmured, “I think we can head down now. Follow me.”

  He led the way down the stairs and past the bouncers. He used his size to push through the crowds, and he kept Lucia close behind until they reached the brightly lit hallway connecting the nightclub to the hotel casino and restaurants. Ten feet away from the entrance, he turned to her and placed his hands on her shoulders.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I think I’ve had enough excitement,” she said, clutching her purse. Her mouth formed a thin line, not a hint of the wanton, begging woman who’d forgotten her own name in the aftermath of her first orgasm. And he sure as hell didn’t want it to be her last.

  “Lucia, we’re not going to get into trouble. At least not the kind that leads to answering a security guard’s questions.”

  “I never get that close,” she said, glancing back at the club.

  He didn’t need a peek beneath her mask to know the fear of being discovered had followed her into the casino’s brightly lit hallway.

  “One taste of trouble is enough,” she added. “I should probably head back to my room.”

  “Have you seen Vegas?”

  She blinked, as if surprised by the question. “I drove down the Strip on the ride from the airport. What else is there?”

  “Come with me.” He took her hand and led her through the casino and out into the warm Vegas night. He paused at the front entrance and glanced at her feet. “How far can you walk in those shoes?”

  “Back into the hotel and up to my room.” She pulled her hand away. “Which is exactly what I should do.”

  “Please.” He signaled for a cab. “Let me show you the sights. Let’s make the most of your time here. We’re not going far. And you won’t see anything like this in Tennessee.”

  She stared at him, his words sinking in.

  You won’t see anything like this in Tennessee.

  No, she’d never see a Navy SEAL dressed in a tuxedo looking at her as if he wanted to spend the night by her side.

  “Okay,” she said.

  He held the cab door open for her as she got inside, and then he slipped in beside her and gave the driver instructions.

  “After this, we’ll talk about the remaining items on your list. I wouldn’t want you to go home unsatisfied.” He pointed out the window. “That’s Planet Hollywood—”

  “Cade,” she said softly. “Tonight has already been more than I ever dreamed it would be. We don’t need to cross off everything.”

  “That’s a shame, because your number four lines up perfectly with my number four.”

  “Your number four?” The words tumbled out on a shaky breath.

  “You’re not the only one with fantasies,” he said as the cab pulled to an abrupt stop at the curb.

  She barely suppressed a moan. What she’d give to hear his fantasies…

  Do you want me on my knees? And what will leave you begging for my mouth wrapped around your cock?

  “We’re here,” he said.

  She followed him out of the cab, his supposed list momentarily forgotten as the man-made lake in front of the hotel sprang to life. Water shot from the fountains, accompanied by the familiar sound of “Luck Be a Lady.” And purple light illuminated the hotel walls in the background.

  “It’s beautiful,” she murmured as the water leaped higher and higher. “A work of art come to life.”

  “I thought you would like the Bellagio fountains.” He moved behind her, wrapped his hands around her hips, and held her close.

  “I wish I could paint this.” Bold blues rushed across the center. If she could capture the awe inspired by the water’s movement, the canvas would spring to life.

  “Why did you become an artist?” he asked, his lips close to her ear as he held her.

  “I started when I was sixteen,” she said.

  In the weeks after her foster father had cut her face, when they’d taken her away from Natalie and, for better or worse, away from their ugly life. Those first few days, it had felt like a downward spiral into worse. As if she’d failed. As if she hadn’t been good enough. As if she deserved the mark on her face. But then the therapist had given her paints.

  “Someone handed me a brush, and once I started painting, I couldn’t stop,” she continued, leaving out the hows and whys linked to the scars hidden behind her mask.

  “What drew you to painting?”

  “I think I fell in love with bringing the beauty of a single moment or emotion to life,” she said. “When I’m painting, I can break free from everything else and lose myself in what I’m creating. It’s not too different from being here.” She let out a low laugh. “Sin City and art—I always thought they were like apples and oranges.”

  “There’s more to Vegas than casinos and clubs,” he said. “There’s beauty here, too.”

  Her laughter died. This place represented his home and his childhood. For him, it was more than an escape. “Did you come here, to these fountains, a lot when you were growing up?”

  “They opened about fifteen years ago, when I was still in junior high school. Or at least that’s the first time my parents and I came to see it. My mother loved this show.”

  Loved. Past tense. She glanced over her shoulder at the powerful man standing behind her. “She’s gone now? Your mother?”

  “No. Well, not like that.” He kept his gaze focused on the water show. “She’s remarried and living in Boston now. But it might as well be the moon considering how often I get out there or she comes west. I try for one holiday a year, but my leave doesn’t always line up.”

  When she’d formed the plan back in Tennessee, intending to pick up a man, she hadn’t envisioned learning about his past, his childhood, anything beyond the here and now. The man in her fantasy walked into her life a stranger and left the same way. But with Cade, she wanted to know more, to ask about his family. And just how bad had he been before?

  Did she have the right to delve into his secrets when she refused to show hers?

  The water show ended, and the people lined up at the railing drifted away
and moved on with their nights. He remained pressed against her, his arms holding her tight.

  “Ready to see what else Vegas has to offer?” he asked, his low voice teasing her senses. Every time this man opened his mouth, her body longed for his touch.

  She leaned her head back against the broad wall of muscle she had yet to explore. If she had the courage to follow her plan to the end, this night might end with his tuxedo jacket on her hotel room floor, his shirt abandoned on a chair, and her fingers tracing the contours of his chest.

  She stared out at the still water that had been bursting with life and movement minutes earlier, possessing a beauty she’d wished she could capture and express on a canvas. Did tonight have to be any different than a painting? A fantasy so real that she couldn’t tell the difference, but when it came time to turn away, it wouldn’t follow her back to reality.

  “No, I’ve seen enough of Vegas,” she said. She bit her lip, and with one hand still clutching her purse, the other moved to his thigh. “I want to see more of you.”

  She was stunned she’d let the words escape. Silence filled their little bubble of Vegas, the dull roar of the never-ending stream of people fading into the background as she waited for his answer.

  “And then?”

  “I want…”

  “Tell me, Lucia,” he commanded. “Tell me what you want. Spell it out for me. Every detail. Don’t hold back.”

  His voice flamed her need and sent it roaring like a bold wildfire that refused to be contained.

  “I want to add to my list,” she murmured. “Number five—find a man and help him experience his wildest fantasies, the things he dreams about when he touches himself, eyes closed in the shower—”

  “You’d like to see that, wouldn’t you?”

  She rubbed her thighs together as wet, reckless desire raced through her. “Yes. I would.”

  “You’d like to watch me wrap my hand around my cock and listen as I describe all of the things I’m thinking about doing to you since I first saw you admiring your paintings. You want to know what makes me hard for you.” He rocked his hips into her backside, allowing her to feel every inch of him.

 

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