Tempted by a SEAL

by Cat Johnson

  Spinning, she headed for the kitchen, leaving Mack behind her.

  “Mmm, mmm. I do like that dress you’re wearing.” Mack’s suggestive comment almost had her tripping over her own feet again.

  Refusing to give him the satisfaction of reacting, she continued striding down the hall.

  It turned out ignoring him was impossible.

  She was angry, she was annoyed, and she never wanted a man more.

  CHAPTER 9

  “Are you done with your plate?” Laurie asked Mack.

  “Yes, but I got it. You sit. You did all the cooking so I’ll take care of the dishes.” Holding on to the dish so she couldn’t take it, Mack stood.

  He had a plan. And hell, if it won him some brownie points in the eyes of his father, all the better.

  “I can’t let you do the dishes. You’re the guest.”

  “No, I’m family. Sit.” He was used to people doing as he instructed. He was happy to see his new stepmother was no exception.

  Smiling, Laurie finally lowered herself into her seat. “If you’re sure.”

  “I’m sure. Lydia, wanna help me?” He grinned, knowing he was putting her on the spot and knowing she’d be annoyed by that.

  More importantly, he was arranging for them to be alone in the kitchen.

  The way she looked in that dress that showed off his favorite assets on her, and how those boots made him long to feel the heels digging into his ass as she wrapped her legs around him—yeah, he was going to be a very happy man.

  The prospect of washing dishes had never been so enticing to Mack as it was now.

  Lydia was as thrown by his suggestion as he anticipated she’d be.

  “Liddy.” There was surprise and a good bit of censure evident in Laurie’s tone. “Go help your new brother with the dishes.”

  Brother? He had to stifle a laugh.

  Yeah, no. In no universe were they or would they ever be brother and sister. Not in his mind, anyway.

  Perhaps in the eyes of the law they were somehow technically tied together—and he wasn’t even certain about that.

  They were both adults and, until last night, strangers. The fact their parents had gotten hitched didn’t affect him any.

  His lips twitched as Lydia paled and stuttered a few times. She obviously didn’t like the insinuation that they might be stepsiblings any more than he did.

  Still thrown, Lydia glanced from him to her mother. “Um. Okay. Sure.”

  Gathering a few more dishes, he controlled his smile until he was in the hallway alone with Lydia. Then he let the grin spread. “Thanks for the help, sis.”

  She swiveled her head to glare at him.

  Mack enjoyed teasing her too much, so he continued. “What’s wrong, sister dearest?”

  Letting out a humph, Lydia stalked ahead of him and into the kitchen. She let the dishes drop hard enough into the sink that he cringed. Feeling a tad guilty, he had to wonder if there would be any porcelain casualties thanks to her anger at him.

  “Hey, now. Don’t take your bad mood out on the poor dinner plates.”

  She spun to face him, looking a little surprised and mad to find him directly behind her. In his defense, he had a handful of dishes of his own to deposit into the sink and she was in his way.

  “You have to stop teasing me in front of them.”

  That’s what she was upset about? Wasn’t that interesting?

  Reaching past her, he put the dishes he held far more gently than she had into the sink, before he asked, “And why is that?”

  “Because they’ll figure it out. You might be a frighteningly good liar, but I’m not.”

  He basked in the glow of her compliment even though chances were good she hadn’t meant it as such. But more intriguing was how she reacted to his closeness, becoming as flustered as she was about his teasing.

  Taking a step forward, he closed the small distance between them. With Lydia pinned between his body and the sink, Mack decided to take advantage of the situation.

  His hands on her waist, he dipped his head toward hers. She turned her face to dodge his kiss but that was fine, he had another goal anyway.

  He hovered just shy of her ear. “What’s wrong, beautiful? Can’t control yourself around me?”

  She shivered at his words. He’d be lying if he didn’t admit to himself that her reaction cut straight to his core.

  “No. I mean yes. I mean . . . stop.” Her demand was less than convincing.

  Running his hands lower until he cupped her ass through the fabric of her dress, he asked, “Do you really want me to stop?”

  He didn’t exactly give her a long time to answer before he closed in on her lips.

  With half his attention focused on listening for their parents, he still had plenty left to enjoy kissing her.

  She was too damned tempting to resist. And that she was fighting her attraction to him—and losing that fight with herself—was enough to have his male ego swelling.

  Other things were swelling too. He made sure she didn’t miss that as he pressed closer against her.

  She pulled back, gasping. “Mack.”

  “Hmm?” He moved to run his mouth over her collarbone.

  A faint scent tickled his sense of smell. Makeup, maybe? He pulled back enough to see her neck, and spotted the bruise she’d tried to cover.

  Had he done that? Pawing through his memory, he couldn’t remember doing it on purpose, but he did recall latching onto her throat at one point.

  He tried to feel bad about it, but all he felt was satisfaction.

  Unconsciously, he’d marked her as his. He’d do it again if given the opportunity. Odd since he usually didn’t care about claiming a woman past one night.

  Somehow being with Lydia was different.

  “We’re going to get caught.” Lydia continued her protest.

  Maybe that was part of the appeal. That they were keeping this from their parents. But the reality was, as much as he valued his privacy and didn’t want his personal life or his sex life on display he really didn’t give a shit if his father or her mother found out.

  She did though, he could see that, so he said, “No, we won’t. I have excellent hearing.”

  And he’d like to hear her cry out his name as she came, like she had when they’d been together in the shower.

  He considered the dangers versus the opportunity for barely a second—he was good at making quick decisions. That skill came with the job.

  It didn’t take any time at all for him to realize the dress and that she wasn’t wearing stockings beneath it offered him easy access to what he wanted.

  He spun her around to face the sink and pressed against her ass.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Helping you do the dishes.” He flipped on the faucet low and listened.

  The sound of the water was soft enough, he’d hear footsteps coming down the hall. His dad had on cowboy boots and her mom had on heels.

  After giving himself points for his keen power of observation, he snaked his hand beneath the hem of her dress. He connected with warm bare skin.

  She hissed in a breath. “Oh my God. You can’t do that here.”

  “Sure, I can.” To prove the point, he slipped one digit beneath her underwear and kept going until he reached the heat of her core.

  “But—” Lydia never finished her sentence. Instead, her complaint dissolved into a tiny noise of what could only be described as satisfaction.

  “You were saying?” He should keep his mouth closed, but teasing her was too fun. So was torturing her with the orgasm he knew wasn’t going to take too long to achieve.

  “Shut up.” Her breathless command had him smiling.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He had better things to do with his mouth anyway, like work her earlobe until she sagged against him.

  She was reduced to a trembling, panting, beautiful mess in mere minutes. He used his free hand to keep her pressed against him so she wouldn’t collapse.

&nb
sp; Hell, who was he kidding? He kept her against him because damn she felt good against his cock, even with clothes between them.

  Her cries got louder. Too loud. He shushed her quietly, gently. Other than that he let her soar, more than happy with the knowledge it was completely his doing.

  Finally, he eased up on her. Any longer and he wouldn’t be able to control himself. He’d have his pants open and be plunging into her right there against the sink. During that he wasn’t sure he’d be able to listen for daddy and step mommy, let alone get Lydia’s and his own clothes righted before they were discovered.

  Wanting her and not being able to have her was its own kind of exquisite torture, but a man could only take so much.

  He’d have her later. There was no doubt in his mind about that.

  Easing his hand out of her underwear, he leaned his head against hers. “Come back to my place tonight.”

  She flipped off the water and then turned in his arms. Her color was high. Her eyes bright. There was nothing more beautiful than a woman after she came.

  Still recovering her breath, she glanced at the doorway behind him, before meeting his eyes. Finally, she said, “Okay.”

  “Good.”

  He’d worry about everything tomorrow. His apparent addiction to this woman. The fact that even if he wanted to walk away from this and not look back, he couldn’t now that they were connected by family.

  He’d managed to forget that one little detail while his hands had been all over her, but it made this whole thing far more complicated.

  He didn’t usually do complicated. His job made his life complicated enough.

  Then again, he didn’t usually do overnights or repeats either, but here he was inviting her back to his place two nights in a row.

  It seemed quite a few things were different this time.

  What was done, was done. He might as well roll with it and see where things ended up.

  Looking at her now, still shaky from his touch, he knew one thing. It was going to be a hell of a ride for however long it lasted.

  “How are you two doing in there?” Laurie’s question came from a way down the hall.

  With his lips twitching with a smile, Mack asked Lydia. “How are we doing?”

  She twisted her mouth into an annoyed looking expression, before she leaned past Mack. “Fine, Mom.”

  Mack smiled full out when she leaned back and leveled a glare at him.

  “Glad you thought so, though I’d say you were doing better than just fine judging by what I heard and felt.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “I—”

  “Do you need help?” Her mother’s distant words interrupted whatever Lydia had been about to say. Apparently Laurie wasn’t happy not being a part of the clean up in the kitchen.

  “No. We’re good. Stay in the living room with Joseph and relax. We’ll be there in a minute.” Lydia’s panicked response to her mother’s offer had Mack laughing.

  “Afraid Mommy will take one look at you and recognize that post-orgasmic glow?”

  “Uck. Don’t talk about sex and my mother.” Lydia spun to face the sink, this time actually doing as they were supposed to have been this whole time—rinsing the dishes.

  He opened the dishwasher door and took the first wet plate out of her hand. “Hey, they’re newlyweds. You’re delusional if you think they haven’t christened every room in this place.”

  Nothing said he couldn’t help and annoy her at the same time.

  “Oh my God, you’re so gross.” She handed him the next plate, serving it up with a good dose of disgust, judging by the expression on her face.

  Mack shrugged. “Sorry, but it’s true.”

  “It doesn’t bother you? Thinking about your father having sex.” She hissed the last word in a whisper.

  It bothered him, but not for the reasons she imagined. His father moving on rubbed that old wound that the loss of his mother had caused. But the fact his father was behaving like a normal, healthy man? Not one bit. “Nope. He’s in his early fifties. He’s not dead.”

  She sighed, looking defeated as she handed him one more dripping dish. “My mother’s still in her forties.

  “See. You plan on not having any sex when you’re in your forties?”

  “No. I don’t know. That’s so far away. I can’t even think about it.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Spoken like a twenty-two year old.”

  Having stared down thirty himself, Mack knew forty was just around the corner after that.

  Hell, given what he did for work, he’d be happy to make it to that age. And if he did, God willing, there was no way he’d waste those years. He’d probably be like a deer in rut if he was lucky enough to have a new bride at that age. Or even an old wife.

  Wife. That word gave him pause. He’d never even thought it before in relation to his own marital status.

  Must be Lydia’s over abundance of sex hormones from what they’d just done spilling over onto him.

  Something else to worry about tomorrow . . . or the next day.

  Another dish, some cutlery and the dishwasher was loaded. Lydia flipped off the water and turned to face him. “I guess we’d better get back in there.”

  “Don’t want to?”

  “Not really.”

  “Wanna tell me why?” Mack asked.

  She let out a laugh. “Too many reasons to list. Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

  “Spoken like a devoted daughter.”

  Lydia blew out a derogatory noise. “You should talk, devoted son that you are.”

  He really couldn’t argue that point. He could have wedged in a visit to his father in that week he’d been home between Iraq and Africa. Brody had managed to go to his family’s home during that same time, and he had to drive all the way to Alabama.

  Mack pushed aside that thought. Life was too damn short to be burdened with regrets or guilt. Or to do shit for everyone else before doing it for yourself.

  One look at the judgment on Lydia’s face told him she had yet to learn that.

  She was young. She’d learn soon enough to live for herself.

  In the living room, Mack saw the happy newlyweds sitting hip to hip on the sofa.

  His father had obviously learned to live the life he wanted. He’d gone ahead and married a woman he’d met without even telling his son before the fact.

  Yup, selfishness must run in the family. Maybe Mack was a bastard thanks to genetics. He liked that theory.

  “Dishwasher is all loaded,” he announced as he moved toward a chair.

  As he sat, he realized he should have gotten himself another beer while he’d been in the kitchen.

  He’d been too distracted by Lydia.

  Considering how little he wanted to be here and how much he enjoyed a cold one on a Sunday afternoon, that was saying something.

  Obviously she was quite a distraction.

  CHAPTER 10

  Lydia stood outside Mack’s apartment door after following him there in her car as he led the way on his bike.

  He was so bossy he had to lead her even on the road. That thought had her sighing and tapping her foot as she waited for him to get the key in the lock.

  He glanced at her over his shoulder. “Just so you know, you can pretend to be mad at me all you want. I like it. Besides, I’m not really sure what the hell you have to be angry about, but whatever. It’s fine with me.”

  Mack defaulted to what Lydia had learned was his usual expression, at least around her—amused or more specifically amused at her expense—before he turned the key and the knob.

  Not sure why she’d agreed to come back to his apartment, she watched as he pushed open the door.

  She shook her head as she followed him inside. “What you did in my mother’s—your father’s kitchen . . . You’re obviously crazy.”

  “Perhaps. But you loved it and you know it.”

  “I did not love it.” She frowned, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of thinking he
was right.

  “Liar.” He grinned wider as he pushed the door closed and flipped the deadbolt. With a hand on each of her arms, Mack backed her up across the narrow room. “We’re not at our parents’ house now.”

  No, they certainly weren’t and there was no one to help her as she tumbled backward onto the sofa.

  He followed her down, trapping her between his hard body and the soft cushions. She sank into the pillows with no hope of ever getting out, especially not with what had to be close to two hundred pounds of muscle-bound man on top of her.

  Mack had to be the most infuriating man on Earth—and she couldn’t hear his voice without having her insides twist with the need to have him.

  At the moment he was assaulting her weak spot, which he’d figured out at some point during their brief association.

  Twenty-four hours they’d known each other—a little less actually—yet he already knew that the heat of his mouth against her ear had her insides turning molten. He was taking full advantage of that now.

  As he nipped at her earlobe, Lydia decided two could play at this game. She reached between them, blindly working on opening the buckle of the belt he wore.

  He pulled back enough she could see his smile. “What are you doing?”

  “Taking what I want.” Her own words, delivered in a low and sultry sex kitten voice she’d never heard come out of her own mouth before, shocked her.

  Where had that come from? Where had the shy, insecure girl she’d been when she woke yesterday gone?

  He lifted a brow. “Go right ahead.”

  Mack shifted so he was sitting next to her, giving her full access to him and his pants.

  Now that she had that access, she was going to have to use it.

  A small case of stage fright hit as she moved off the sofa to kneel between his feet on the floor. She reached up for the fly of his khakis, undoing the button and lowering the zipper as her mouth went dry.

  Lydia wasn’t used to being the one in charge. Setting the pace. Making the moves. Undressing a man. And was he ever a man. One big, hard man.

  That was more than proven as she slipped his length free of the boxer briefs she’d exposed.

  He watched her progress with heavily lidded eyes. His breathing deepened as she took him in her hand.