A SEAL's Desire (Uniformly Hot!)

by Tawny Weber

  “I’m so tired of being good,” she whispered, holding his hand to her mouth before he could pull it away. Watching carefully, she ran her tongue along the side of his finger, her tongue swirling around and around before she sucked. Hard.

  For a second, it looked as if Laramie was going to explode. His face tightened, his eyes heated. His breath came in a fast gasp.

  Then, so fast she wondered if she’d imagined the passion, he closed it down. He gently pulled his hand from hers, released her waist and reached over to grab two napkins.

  Sammi wasn’t sure which was stronger. Disappointment or humiliation.

  “You didn’t like that?” she asked quietly, scrubbing the napkin over her cheek with more force than was necessary.

  “I liked it too much,” he corrected. “But you’ve taken a few hits, Sammi. I won’t take advantage of your vulnerability and if you kept that up, I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself.”

  “But what if it’s not taking advantage?” She wet her lips, her tongue sipping away the last of the chocolate. “What if I want you to?”

  For once, she could see what he was thinking. The concern over what he saw as her innocence. The reality that whatever happened here between then was all that would happen—there was no future for them. And desire.

  Thankfully, he listened to the desire.

  Laramie leaned in, taking her mouth in a kiss so hot, it turned her insides to lava. Sammi met his tongue, thrust for thrust. Her body delighted in the power of his kiss.

  But even as wet heat pooled between her legs and her nipples beaded with need, his comment echoed in her mind. So, because it was Laramie and she could do anything with him, say anything to him, she pulled away to ask.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  Confusion clear on his face, Laramie shook his head.

  “You want a list of reasons?”

  “No. I don’t need to see the list.” She wet her lips. “I just want to know if pity is on it.”

  He gave a rough laugh.

  “Sugar, you think I’ve been sporting a five-day hard-on for pity?” His eyes were hot as he wrapped his hand around hers and slid them down his body.

  Oh, my.

  Her fingers wide, Sammi ran her hand down the hard length behind his zipper. He was so big. Big and hard. She shivered.

  She had to have him. She just had to.

  “Then do things to me,” Sammi murmured, letting her head fall back onto the couch so she could see his face. “Do the kind of things to me that I hear you do so well.”

  9

  SAMMI JO WASN’T sure how it happened but in the space of time between her request and her next breath, she was laid out flat with her back on the floor.

  And Laramie’s body angled over hers.

  Her bare legs tangled with the denim-clad length of his. Her hands gripped his shoulders, reveling in the hard, muscled flesh beneath his T-shirt.

  Eyes wide, she stared up at him in wonder. Was this it? They were actually going to have sex? Should she take her shorts off? Or wait for him? Nerves danced through her body, overwhelming the passion with their nagging doubts.

  Unsure of the moves but desperate to feel him touch her in the ways he’d talked about in their phone calls, Sammi’s hand reached down to grab the hem of her shirt. Before she could pull it up, Laramie’s hands were there, stopping her.

  “I want to do that.”

  “Oh.” Her uncertainty didn’t have a chance against the needy excitement building inside, so Sammi gave a tiny shrug. Gesturing to the fabric he now held, she arched her brows. “Then go for it.”

  His face split in a delighted grin.

  “Damned if I know why I keep expecting you to play the shy maiden. But it’s a continual treat to realize I’m wrong.”

  “Is that what you prefer?” she wondered with a frown. With his reputation, she’d have thought he was more used to women who knew the sexual score than shy ones. Was she doing something wrong?

  “I prefer you to be whatever you want to be.” He skimmed one hand under her shirt, his palm warming her belly with yearning.

  “I prefer that you act however you want to act.” His hand skimmed higher. Sammi held her breath as his fingers traced the band of her bra just under the cup. She surreptitiously shifted higher, wanting more, needing more.

  “I prefer that you be your genuine self, not who you think I expect you to be, or who anyone else has told you to be.”

  She managed to hold back her whimper of disappointment when he slipped his hand back out of her shirt but couldn’t stop her bottom lip from dropping. Before she could protest, though, his fingers snagged the hem of her shirt and lifted.

  Sammi’s pout melted into a smile as he slowly pulled the fabric higher, exposing her belly. His knees still tight on either side of her hips, he leaned forward to press a whisper of a kiss to her bare flesh. She trembled at the sensation of his warm breath gliding over her. Unable to swallow past the knot in her throat, she watched him slide her shirt higher, the bright smiley face giving way to the shiny satin of her bra.

  His eyes narrowed, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. Sammi wordlessly arched her back, then raised her arms so he could pull the shirt free. Her eyes filled with wonder when, instead of tossing it aside, he bundled it carefully under her head as a pillow.

  Focus on the physical, she warned herself. It’s nothing more than physical. And thankfully, there was enough physical to occupy her complete attention.

  Shivering at the contrast between her almost bare upper body when she was deliciously hot down below, Sammi reached out to pull Laramie to her.

  But he shook his head.

  “Not yet. Not until I’m ready. And I won’t be ready until I drive you crazy, turn you inside out, then satisfy you. All while I watch,” he said, his voice low and husky. “Then we’re going to do the same thing all over again. To each other.”

  Sammi squirmed at the edgy need coiling low in her belly at his words. But what if she was already crazy? She was pretty sure if crazy was measured by unfulfilled needs, she was there.

  “Then hurry,” she demanded, cupping her own hands over her bra and squeezing in hopes of relieving some of the building pressure. “Because I can’t wait much longer.”

  His grin flashed, fast and wicked.

  He nudged the straps off her shoulders, pulling them down with fingers that traced a pattern on her arms until the straps were low enough to tug at the cups beneath her hands. Sammi made to release them, but Laramie pressed his own hands over hers.

  Holding. Squeezing.

  Tempting Sammi to tremble with need.

  Still trapping her hands between his and her aching breasts, he slid a little lower, leaning down to nuzzle the sensitive curve of her throat. Her eyes drifting closed as the sweet delight swirled through her, Sammi angled her head to the side to give him better access.

  His mouth was a wicked sort of magic, making her forget everything but how he made her feel as he scraped his teeth over the sensitive flesh of her throat, nibbling at her ear, then whispering kisses across her jawline until he reached her mouth.

  Sammi’s lips welcomed his. Their tongues tangled in an intimate dance, swirling and thrusting until she was ready to explode. Then he sucked her tongue into his mouth at the same time his fingers slipped under hers to skim under her bra, scraping her nipples.

  Oh. Her breath caught in her throat. Her hands fell helplessly to her sides as she caught her bottom lip between her teeth and tried not to whimper.

  Their mouths continued to slide together, hot and wet, in an erotic dance. Sammi wasn’t aware that he’d removed her bra until he rubbed her nipples gently between his fingers.

  Suddenly his fingers were gone. Before she could protest, she felt a cool stickiness coat her breast.

  Her eyes popped open to see Laramie’s half smile, his eyes intent. She glanced down to see that he’d chosen pink frosting to spread over her nipple, coating it with pastel
sweetness. He swirled and dabbed the frosting with the intensity of an artist creating his masterpiece.

  Sammi’s body was so hot, she was surprised the frosting didn’t melt all over her. Need curled, tight and wet, between her thighs. Her breath caught in her throat at the look on his face, at the feel of his fingers on her breast. Most of all, in anticipation of what he’d do once he was satisfied that he’d decorated her properly.

  Finally, he leaned back, giving her breast a satisfied nod. Sammi bit her lip, waiting. The sticky concoction was drying, tightening just a little.

  But still he didn’t move.

  “Laramie?” It came out a hoarse whisper, but Sammi had no pride at this point. Need had eaten it away.

  “I think I want chocolate, too.”

  He repeated the process, spreading chocolate frosting over her other nipple. With every touch of his finger, the pebbled flesh quivered. Tiny bolts of pleasure shot through her until Sammi was actually squirming between his thighs.

  Then he stopped.

  Her eyes locked on his face; Sammi held her breath.

  He leaned down. She sucked in her belly, lifting her chest closer. His breath warmed her skin, making her tremble.

  Then he stopped again.

  Sammi bit back a scream.

  “Hang on.” He straightened, both hands going to the bottom of his black shirt. Slowly, as if he knew it was killing her to wait, he lifted it up his belly, across his chest and over his head. “Didn’t want to get frosting on my shirt.”

  The words were merely background buzz to Sammi.

  Every atom of her being was focused on Laramie’s chest.

  Oh, oh, baby.

  She let out a shaky breath.

  She was pretty sure she’d just died and gone to heaven.

  Because his body was too incredible to be that of a mere mortal.

  Like a dull gold satin, his skin stretched over razor-sharp muscles honed to perfection. His shoulders ranged wide over a chest that was so cut she was surprised she hadn’t seen the definition through his clothes. His arms—oh, his arms—were rounded concrete. And his abs. The light dusting of hair scattered across his chest, defining his flat nipples before running in a narrow line down the center of his belly where it disappeared into his jeans.

  Sammi wanted to follow that trail until she really did find heaven. But first she had to pay homage to his abs.

  She wanted to touch.

  She needed to taste.

  But when she shifted to do both, Laramie’s hands pressed her back into the floor.

  “I’m hungry,” he murmured before following her down. “I just have to decide if I want to start with strawberry or chocolate frosting.”

  “Iced cherry,” Sammi corrected breathlessly, giggling at his expression as he frowned from her face to her breasts and back again. “I’m usually all about the chocolate but the iced cherry is so amazing I couldn’t decide which I liked better.”

  “Why don’t you let me help you decide?” he suggested with a wicked smile.

  Sammie’s laughter faded. She’d been so in awe of his body that she’d forgotten about the frosting play. Now that she remembered, all she could feel was her nipples, their tight need and the erotically weird sensation of being frosted.

  His legs slid along hers as he shifted lower, the scrape of denim against her sensitive bare flesh as exciting as his weight pressing down on her lower body.

  Sammi lifted her hips, pressing tight against his chest in hopes of relieving some of the pressure building between her thighs. Always the gentleman, Laramie scooped one hand beneath her butt to help press her tighter, his fingers squeezing as he did.

  Then he laved his tongue over her frosted nipple.

  Sensations slammed through Sammi’s body so hard, so fast, that she almost exploded. Her breath caught, trapped in her throat by a low moan of pleasure.

  “Iced cherry is good,” he murmured, the words an erotic rumble that she felt all the way to her core.

  He had her other leg pinned, but Sammi was able to raise one knee, pressing her foot into the floor as she tried to get closer.

  He nibbled at the pebbled tip of her breast, each swirl of his tongue around the nipple sending her higher.

  When he drew the wet, swollen bud into his mouth, sucking away the last of the frosting, Sammi moaned. Her hands raced over his bare flesh, reveling in the rock-hard satin of his muscles, gripping tight to biceps so big she couldn’t wrap her fingers even halfway around them.

  He switched to the chocolate-covered nipple, repeating the process of tongue swirling, teeth scraping, nibbling and licking delight. At the same time, he teased the wet, aching tip of the other until Sammi was light-headed with need.

  She squirmed, trying to grip his leg between hers. As if realizing how close she was, Laramie shifted, sliding his thigh between hers, wedging it tight against the crux of her legs.

  Sammi exploded.

  Her body shook as stars exploded against the velvety black of her eyelids. Sensation after sensation whirled her around in dizzying circles of delight, taking her higher and higher with each tiny orgasmic aftershock.

  While she was still quaking, Laramie’s mouth covered hers. His tongue speared, deep and hard.

  Even as Sammi went over again, she reveled in the rich cherry-chocolate flavor of the kiss. She felt as if she were floating on wave after wave of pleasure, slowly descending back into her body where all the good times were happening.

  As she did, awareness slowly kicked in.

  The hard floor against her back.

  The air-conditioned draft cooling her skin.

  Laramie’s hot, hard body sliding along hers as he shifted to his side. His fingers, trailing teasing hints of magic down her belly, skimming along her waistband.

  Reaching for the button of her shorts.

  Sammi’s eyes flew open.

  It took a strength she didn’t realize she had to reach down and stop him.

  Laramie’s fingers stilled.

  She felt, rather than saw his eyes study her face, forcing Sammi to slowly force hers open.

  She had to work a little harder to find the words that were buried in her pleasure-fogged brain.

  “Once you take my shorts off, I’ll forget everything I want to do,” she finally said, her words ending on a hot gasp when his finger dipped into her belly button. “I want to touch you first. I want to see you. To see how you look when you want me.”

  She bit her lip, waiting for his reaction. Would he object? Was he so far gone that he just had to get in there right this second? In her experience, he’d already outdone most guys’ foreplay limits as it was.

  But Laramie wasn’t most guys.

  As his slow, wicked grin confirmed.

  He angled into a sitting position, making quick work of his boots and socks. Sammy pressed her hand to his bare back before he could lift his hips to do the same quick strip of his jeans. Reading her mind, he lay back on the floor, his head pillowed on one hand as he gave her the c’mere gesture.

  Sammi shivered, feeling like a kid in a very well-built candy store. She turned onto her side and reveled in the freedom to taste every treat he had to offer.

  Despite having come only moments before, her body was still tight with need. But this need was to act, not just to receive. To touch and taste and feel whatever she wanted.

  She ran her palm over Laramie’s cheek, murmuring with pleasure at the rough scrape of his end-of-day whiskers. His lips were so soft in comparison, his smile showing just a hint of indulgence. As if he knew this was the first time she’d had more than a cursory interest in a man’s body and realized his was worthy of her attention.

  She skimmed her hand down his chest, her fingers swirling, then flicking his nipple. She glanced up when it hardened.

  “Does that feel as good for you as it does when you do it to me?” she wondered.

  “It does feel good.” His voice lowered to a sexy growl. “A few other things feel better.” />
  Brow arched, Sammi smiled. She indulged in one more teasing flick, hoping they could do this again later so she could taste frosting off him. She flattened her palm against his chest, the soft hair rippling as she slid her hand lower. His body was simply gorgeous. Not an ounce of fat between those rock-hard muscles and the gold satin skin.

  She shifted so one hand was propped flat on the floor, pressing herself up onto her hip so she could watch as she traced her finger over each ridge of his abdominal muscles. Excitement coiled tighter in her own belly the lower her fingers went.

  Laramie simply lay there, letting her have her way. But a glance at his face proved he wasn’t immune. His eyes were hot, his gaze intent on her hand. She could see his heart pounding harder in his throat. But the best proof of all was the rigid tightness pressing against his jeans.

  Her pulse raced, her breath coming faster.

  She shifted closer, her hair falling over her face as her breast brushed his side. Laramie sucked in a breath.

  Sammi smiled, wide and satisfied.

  For the first time in her life, she understood what feminine power was.

  And she wanted more.

  “Can I?” she asked softly, her fingers hovering over the button to his jeans.

  “Sugar, you can do anything you want.” Seeing the doubt in her eyes, he nodded. “Anything at all.”

  Her eyes round with delight, the excitement took on a whole new level of heat. Tense with anticipation, her gaze slid along the rigid length of his zipper, ideas racing through her mind. Before she could settle on which one she wanted to do first, he lifted one finger.

  “On one condition.”

  Figures.

  Sammi almost hissed, the disappointment was so intense. Leaning back on her elbow, she shoved her hair out of her face and waited.

  “You can do anything you want,” he repeated, his words low and deep as he slipped his hand behind her head and pulled her back down to him. “As long as you promise to tell me anything—everything—you want me to do to you.”

  Giddy with delight, she pressed a kiss to the hard flatness of his abs. She’d meant to move on to unzipping his jeans, but she couldn’t resist a few more kisses. And licks. Her tongue followed the trail of hair, swirling and sipping her way down to his waistband. She flipped the snap and pulled the zipper down with one hand, the other smoothing that silken flesh.