A SEAL's Secret

by Tawny Weber

  Well.

  Mitch let emotions slide through him, not bothering to name or try to analyze them right now. He’d do that later.

  Operation Information had taken a major turn. The kind of turn that would force him to ask himself some questions. Again, later.

  Right now, he had one simple choice.

  He knew Livi would appease his curiosity. But while that’d make him feel good, he knew it wouldn’t do the same for her.

  Mitch rubbed his knuckles over Livi’s cheek, marveling in her sweet face. He had to leave at dawn to catch a flight home for Christmas. He could leave his questions unanswered until he saw her again. But he wouldn’t leave without giving her something to smile about.

  “You know,” he said slowly, shifting his body just a little to bring his in more perfect alignment. “I actually do like hearing you cry sometimes.”

  “You what?” She frowned, the hurt taking a backseat to the irritation.

  “It’s a special kind of cry,” Mitch told her, brushing his lips over hers at the same time his knuckles skimmed down the front of her robe, brushing her nipples. “A pleasured cry.”

  “Is that so?” Her eyes darkened again, this time with amused pleasure.

  “It is. And I think you owe me a cry or two.” He used his palm this time to cup her breast, delighting in the instant puckering of her nipple beneath his hand.

  “I owe you?” She shifted her hips, rubbing erotically against the already erect length of his dick.

  “I made you hot chocolate,” he reminded her.

  “Mmm, you did.” Livi’s smile was wicked and sweet at the same time. “I wonder if there’s any whipped cream left.”

  “I got two cans,” Mitch said as he swept her into his arms.

  10

  THREE HOURS AND two rocking orgasms later, Mitch was pretty sure he’d rode the whipped-cream-induced sugar high for all it was worth. All he wanted to do was fall into a gratified crash and sleep it off. But he couldn’t.

  Sometimes a man just had to do what a man had to do.

  And Mitch had to get up.

  Not his dick—that had been up and down so many times this week it might as well have had its own elevator.

  His body.

  Up, out of bed.

  Up, out of Livi’s apartment.

  Up, out of the state of California, even.

  But... He didn’t want to move.

  Mitch couldn’t remember ever feeling as good as he did now.

  Not physically, though his body was so drugged with pleasure he could barely move.

  Not mentally, though his mind filled with facts, impressions and even more questions about Livi. He’d talked with her more in the last three days than he figured he’d talked to any woman in his life, outside of relatives.

  Not emotionally.

  Putting the brakes on that train of thought, Mitch frowned at the ceiling. Livi’s holiday lights slowly faded from blue to purple to pink, the colors’ glow dimming as the room grew lighter.

  Maybe they hadn’t known each other long. It’d only been a handful of phone calls, then three days of talking and making love. Of cooking meals together and making love. Laughing and sharing, joking and sleeping together—between making love.

  But what did time matter? She’d touched him like nobody else in his life ever had.

  Was that love?

  Mitch’s eyes flew open, the foggy dregs of sleep shattering. His stomach clenched. He was fascinated by her, but that didn’t mean it was some heavy emotional thing.

  He couldn’t imagine not seeing her again, and was already missing the feel of her in his arms even though she hadn’t left them. She was a gorgeous, sexy woman. That was to be expected.

  And sure, he’d opened up with her more than he ever had with a woman. But that was because she was so easy to talk to, so curious and supportive and sweet.

  See. There was no reason to start thinking crazily.

  His attraction to spending more time—a lot more time—with Livi was all very justified. Almost tidily so. He knew that anything that tidily organized on the surface was either a facade, or camouflage for a hot mess of some kind.

  Which brought him full circle, right back to that wild emotional thinking. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to be in deep trouble.

  “I have to go,” he said aloud. Nice. He grimaced at the ceiling. Great way to break the news.

  “I might be able to move in a few decades,” Livi mumbled into the mattress where she lay, facedown. The emerald-green satin sheet pooled over her thighs just below the sweet curve of her butt.

  Unable to resist, Mitch rolled onto his side to enjoy the view. Her skin melted from creamy white to pale gold just there at the small of her back, a subtle tan line so smooth he wondered if she went nude part of the time.

  His body hardened—again—at the image of Livi on a beach, her bare body running across the surf.

  “I can come back on the twenty-sixth,” he said, not caring that his family would pitch a fit. They’d get over it. “We can spend New Year’s Eve together.”

  He liked the idea of ringing in a new year with her. The possibilities stretched way beyond just champagne, midnight kisses and Livi’s sweet body wrapped in a sexy little dress.

  Although there was a lot to be said for sexy little dresses. Reaching over, Mitch slid the palm of his hand up her spine and back down again. Her silky skin was warm, the muscles beneath lax. Damn, she had the most perfect body.

  “Actually I leave right after Christmas,” she said into the pillow, disappointment coloring her words. “I’m booked on a cruise or four.”

  Mitch blinked.

  “Or four?”

  Livi slowly shifted her head to the side, peeking at him from under a swath of hair.

  “I’m booked for a month, but I think it’s actually four different trips. You know, out of Florida around the Caribbean, then back to Florida to exchange passengers before doing it all over again.”

  “You’re working on the cruise ship,” he said, realization dawning on him. He reached over to slide his finger along her bicep, scooping up her silken hair to tuck it to the side so he could see her face. “So it’s business, not pleasure?”

  “Both, maybe,” she said, her words slurred with exhaustion. As the cause of her lack of sleep, Mitch knew he should feel bad. But it’d felt too damned good. “A lot of my regulars will be there, a few strippers, JoyBoy the Drag Queen and the church girls.”

  JoyBoy the Drag Queen? And the church girls? What in the hell did she do with her regulars? Mitch angled himself onto his elbow to get a closer look at her face to see if she was kidding.

  Nope.

  Not kidding.

  Not even awake.

  Deciding to ask her later, he glanced at the sun and guessed that it was around six in the morning. He really did have to go, but it was so hard to tear himself away. He did a quick calculation, figuring how long it’d take to get to the airport from here if he skipped stopping by base to get his things.

  Long enough for another hug, he thought. Carefully wrapping his arms around her, he pulled Livi tight against him. She murmured something, more a purr than actual words, and snuggled closer.

  Damn, he was going to miss her.

  Never before had he questioned leaving a place, a person.

  Never once had he wished to be anywhere except where he was, whether that meant sweating in the deserts of Iraq, freezing in the waters of the Arctic, or once—as much as he’d have liked to forget—carrying a recovered SEAL’s body through mortar fire to bring him to his final resting place in Arlington.

  Mitch didn’t believe in regrets and didn’t bother second-guessing. He always lived in the moment, because that’s what he had.

&nb
sp; He pressed a kiss against the top of Livi’s head. Breathing deeply, he drew in her scent, letting it fill him with the sweet delight that was Livi.

  He was forced to admit with a sinking feeling that those peacefully conflict-free days might be numbered.

  * * *

  “C’MON, LIV. LET’S hit the clubs. They have a good one called the Captain’s Deck. The Lido Club is retro and fun to look at, but the music bites. There’s a fogey club, you know, the kind with ballroom dancing and dapper old guys. We could hit them all if you want, or go straight for the Captain’s Deck and see the hottest guys.”

  As Tessa went on and on about the hot guys, Livi wondered if she should have stayed in the shower a little longer. She coated her skin with lotion before sliding into her robe, the movements difficult in the tiny bathroom. Being one of the starring attractions of an All New You cruise that featured fitness, motivation and healthy lifestyle programs earned you a balcony stateroom, but not a luxury bathroom.

  Was it like this on the ships Mitch served on? Not specifically—she was sure the Navy sleeping quarters weren’t wallpapered with bright purple and orange flowers. But the sense of being in a cocoon, all compact and closed in and secure.

  She’d have to ask him. Anticipation curled like smoke low in her belly, ready to ignite into flame as soon as she heard his voice. So far they’d only been texting since Christmas, but he’d asked if she’d be available to do a video chat tonight. And oh, boy, would she.

  “C’mon, Liv,” Tessa shouted from the other room. “Let’s check out the ship’s party life.”

  “How do you know all of these things?” Livi asked her, coming out of the bathroom in her robe, rubbing a towel over her just washed hair. “You’ve been in here sick ever since we boarded the ship. You’re only getting through the workout sessions by doping with antihistamines—then you come back here and snore.”

  “I do not snore,” Tessa objected. Then she gave Livi a horrified look. “Do I? I’ve never taken pills for seasickness before. Who knows what they’re doing to me. Do I drool, too? Please, tell me I don’t drool.”

  Snickering at her friend’s frantic tone, Livi sank onto her own bed, the twin of Tessa’s, and combed her fingers through her wet tangles. She was tempted to tease, but she knew how rough the last five days had been on her friend. Knowing Tessa’s vanity, if she thought she was anything less than sexy and sophisticated under the influence of the pills, she’d quit taking them. It was only after Livi had poined out that puking wasn’t sexy either that she’d tried them in the first place.

  “You don’t drool,” Livi assured her. Seeing the concern on Tessa’s face—which was a smidge less green now—she lifted her hand in promise. “No snoring, either.”

  Looking oddly young with her face bare and her hair pulled back with a headband, Tessa gave a relieved sigh. Then with a hint of her usual verve, she shifted onto her knees on the vivid pink coverlet and spread her hands.

  “Well, then? Wanna party tonight? We can start with the guys in the fogey club—those old ones love to buy pretty girls drinks. We’ll work our way up to the Captain’s Deck and let this guy show us his dance moves. His name is Miguel and he’s got the sweetest butt on the entire ship.”

  Even if Livi didn’t have plans to sneak off to some private corner of the ship with her cell phone and talk dirty with Mitch, none of that would have appealed to her.

  “So you scoped all of that out between the end of our three o’clock Pole Power workout and my getting out of the shower?”

  “I have my ways,” Tessa declared grandly. At Livi’s mischievous look, she grinned and admitted, “JoyBoy. He’s hit all the clubs at least twice and made a list of the hottest single guys on the ship. He said we could have the straight ones.”

  “Because he’s taking all the rest?” Livi laughed in delight. If anyone could handle it, the six-foot-four beanpole of a redhead could.

  “That was sweet of him, but you can have my share,” she told Tessa.

  “I don’t want your share. I don’t even want my share.” Tessa scowled, flopping backward onto the bed. Her Just Do Me tee rode up, baring her belly above simple black yoga pants. “We can dress up. I’ll watch you eat in a fancy restaurant and we’ll go dance with each other and ring in the New Year. I just want to get out of this room.”

  Livi hadn’t told Tessa about her and Mitch.

  At first it’d just been phone calls, and she hadn’t wanted to hear the lectures on how lousy military guys were or how no guy was worth the drama Pauline would create when she found out. Then, after things really heated up, Livi figured things between her and Mitch wouldn’t last long, so why tell anyone? This way it was just hers. Hers and Mitch’s.

  Besides, Tessa knew her too well. If Livi told her about the relationship, Tessa would start asking questions. She’d talk about emotions and repercussions and all that crazy stuff. For a self-proclaimed sex kitten, Tessa was pretty uptight about some things.

  All of which meant that Livi’s plans for the evening wouldn’t get her out of the party invite. So she started to offer an excuse instead.

  That she was tired, which wasn’t really true.

  Or that she hadn’t packed any party dresses. Which was.

  Oh, her mother had told her to, saying there was plenty of networking to be done. Since Pauline had an unexpected deal come up, she’d insisted her daughter glad-hand and socialize in her place. The idea of having to play nicey-nice with a bunch of strangers over and over again had put Livi into a cold sweat even as she’d pulled evening wear out to pack.

  Then she’d remembered what Mitch had said about embracing her feelings and deciding how she wanted to handle them. Since the idea of doing cocktail-party promotions made her feel nauseous, she’d put every single dress right back in the closet.

  She’d felt good about it at the time. Strong and empowered. Now, though...

  “Do you think I’m doing a lousy job representing Stripped Down Fitness?” she asked Tessa. “That hanging out here with you or chilling with a few people by the pool is a waste of this opportunity?”

  “What?” It only took a moment for the baffled confusion to clear from Tessa’s face. “Oh, screw that. You’re teaching five sessions every day, you stay after each one and visit until the last person leaves, and you’re on deck the rest of the time being friendly. How’s that slacking off?”

  “Pauline is worried,” Livi admitted with a shrug. “The Fit To Be Naked sales have plateaued, so she’s sure they’ll plummet soon.”

  “Right little ray of sunshine, your mom.”

  “Isn’t she just?”

  “Are things really that bad? I thought that’s why you—we—did that tour earlier this year. To push video and franchise sales and hit that plateau. Did something change?”

  “You mean did another creditor or bilked investor pop up?” Livi shook her head. “No. I’m solvent and sound. I mean, the company will still be paying back the loans for another couple of years, but we should be fine. I was just feeling guilty about skipping the parties.”

  “Are you sure?” Tessa asked, her expression just as suspicious as her tone. “Do you need me to stay on? Like I told Pauline, my schedule is flexible. I can make myself available after the cruise.”

  “No.” Livi dropped onto the bed next to Tessa to give her a quick hug.

  “You’ve done so much this last year. I couldn’t have gotten through that tour or those video shoots without you. I totally appreciate your help. But Stripped Down Fitness is really okay.” When that didn’t ease the concern on Tessa’s face, Livi added, “I’m putting together a new program based on the Navy SEAL workout. I’ve got plenty of one-on-one clients and if things get tight, I can pick up a few group sessions here or there. I’m finally where I want to be,” Livi assured her. “Don’t worry about Pauline. You know how she is. Ev
ery cloud has another cloud behind it.”

  She frowned, playing back Tessa’s words.

  “When did Pauline check your availability?” she asked. Granted, Tessa was her go-to workout partner and had starred in all of the Stripped Down Fitness videos—Livi was sure she was one of the main reasons for their huge success. But other than promotional events like the tour or this cruise, she wasn’t a trainer. As Tessa liked to put it, she was all about the window dressing.

  “When she called two weeks ago to confirm the cruise details she asked about my availability into February.” Tessa grimaced. “I knew you were hoping to ease off the big promotions so I kept it vague.”

  Livi’s stomach clenched, dread tiptoeing with sneaky fingers down her spine. Pauline was up to something. She’d been extra friendly when Livi joined her for Christmas dinner, she’d blown off this cruise for a meeting, and now she was tapping Tessa’s team for availability?

  Not live television, Livi prayed. She’d hoped the idea of this new workout direction had been enough to derail Pauline from that particular train of thought. She’d been so hopeful, she’d never actually told her mother that she hated the idea and didn’t want to do it.

  Needing to move, to shake off the conflicting feelings in her belly, Livi got up and paced. The stateroom was so small, though, that she could only take four steps either way.

  Tessa watched the glinting ocean through their balcony door for a moment before asking, “What do you think she’s up to?”

  Livi frowned, not sure.

  “We’ll be making a video of the SEAL workout, but so far I’ve only outlined my program ideas.” And made copious notes of how incredibly beneficial the real SEAL program was—both for the men using it and for the women delighting in the results. Mitch’s body was a work of art and the things he did with it... Oh, my.

  She didn’t think she wanted those in a video, though.

  At least, not one available to the public.

  “I have to finish adapting their workout to be doable by civilians. Then I’ll test it myself for a month or so to adjust and record the results,” she murmured, thinking through the process aloud as she paced. “I need to create modifications, pull together a control group to test the workout with and adjust again. At that point, we should be ready to film.”