SEALed With A Kiss: Heroes With Heart

by Low, Gennita

  “I don’t think I could sleep alone in my apartment. Having my own guards outside my door appeals to me.” Kelli nodded. “I’d love to, as long as I can get a long hot shower and clean clothes.”

  “Done.” Handing the flowers to Kelli and the chocolates to Mitchell, Remy performed a sharp about-face then offered his arms to both women and escorted them to his waiting SUV.

  The drive to the apartment complex took far longer than Mitchell could remember as she sat on the edge of her seat, her body already on fire with the need to be close to Remy, naked and making love. By the time they pulled into the parking lot of his apartment, every nerve was hopping beneath her skin. When he helped her down from the SUV, his hand on her arm sent a series of electric shocks racing through her all the way to her core, and a flush of heat spread outward. Tonight, the timing would be perfect.

  Helping Kelli down from the SUV, Remy once again offered his arms to escort them into the building and up to Irish’s apartment. He pressed Mitchell’s hand against his side, hardly able to wait to get her alone.

  The guys jumped to their feet when Kelli and Mitchell entered and introduced themselves one by one.

  “If you should need me to chase the monsters out from under your bed…” Irish pointed to his chest, “I’m your man.”

  “Don’t let him fool you.” Swede pushed Irish aside. “He’s afraid of his own shadow. I’ll be there if you so much as sneeze. No one will get past me.”

  “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about bad guys sneaking past us. We’ll take care of you,” Dustman promised.

  Kelli laughed. “I’m more worried about getting a shower right now than anything else. And is that pizza?” She stared at the open boxes littering the counter in the kitchen.

  “You bet, it is. We saved you some.” Big Bird scrounged through the boxes, tossing one after the other into the trash until he located a box still containing pizza and held it up, proudly. “See?”

  “Great.” Kelli turned to Mitchell with a smile. “I’m getting a shower, eating pizza and sleeping until noon tomorrow. I’ll be fine with these guys.”

  Mitchell frowned and cast a concerned glance over her shoulder at the room full of men. “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.” Kelli hugged her and whispered loud enough for Remy to hear, “And I want all the juicy details tomorrow.” She winked at him, making his neck and cheeks heat.

  Mitchell laughed, let go of her friend and stepped into the curve of Remy’s arms. “Then goodnight.” She turned and practically yanked Remy’s arm out of his socket racing for the door.

  “Remy, don’t do anything we wouldn’t do?” Swede called out.

  “Mitchell, if you get bored with him, I’m younger, in better shape and have a lot more stamina,” Irish yelled.

  “Shut up.” Remy pulled the door closed behind him and tugged Mitchell into his arms. “We don’t have to leave Kelli if it bothers you.”

  Mitchell wrapped her arms around his neck. “She’s safe and she knows where to find me if she gets scared. Though that would be hard to do with those SEALs in the next room.” She laughed. “I really was looking forward to that date with you.”

  “I was more worried about you. And now that you’re safe…” He closed the distance, his mouth hovering over hers. “Seems we skipped right past the date thing the other night.” He raised his chin and pressed his mouth to her forehead and the tip of her nose. “Want to start over?” His lips closed over hers and he deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue past her teeth to slide along the length of hers.

  “Mmm. Dating is overrated,” she said into his mouth, teasing his tongue with hers.

  “How do you feel about foreplay?”

  She shoved his shirt over his head. “An absolute necessity. And, oh, about that spanking the other night…”

  A flash of guilt washed over him. Sometimes, he didn’t know his own strength and he had really gotten into the role playing. “Was I too rough?”

  “Just the opposite.” She grabbed his hand and dragged him down the hallway to his apartment. “Make it sting a little more. That makes me even hotter.”

  Her words made all his blood rush south. Once inside, with the door shut, Remy pulled the faux leather jacket off her shoulders and tossed it over the lounge chair. “You’re keeping the outfit, aren’t you?”

  “It belongs to the Naughty Ladies Lounge,” she said, untying the stings holding the corset together in front.

  “And the owner will be in jail. I’m pretty sure the lounge won’t remain open.”

  Mitchell paused, the strings wrapped around her fingers. “What will happen to Dixie Lee? She won’t be able to afford her rent.” Her brows wrinkled into a frown.

  “We’ll look into it tomorrow.” He took over the unlacing of her corset, making quick work of it and stretching it wide enough to pull over her head.

  Once free of it, she sucked in a deep breath and plumped her breasts with a groan. “I could barely breathe in that thing.”

  Remy bent to capture one of the tips between his teeth, rolling it over his tongue before he sucked it fully into his mouth.

  Mitchell’s head dropped back, exposing the long glorious line of her neck.

  “Sorry, but foreplay is about to be over.” Remy scooped her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom. He stripped the G-string down her legs, leaving her wearing only the thigh-high black shiny boots.

  “Are you going to help me out of these?” she asked, leaning forward to search for the long zipper.

  “No.” He grabbed her hands and held them. “I’m really liking you like this. If you can’t keep the outfit, I’ll buy you another just like it.”

  She backed onto the bed, crossing one long booted leg over the other. “Like it, huh?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Blood pounded in his ears.

  “Guess you’ll have to show me how much.” With a wink, she kicked one boot into the air.

  Remy shucked his trousers and boots and stretched out on the bed beside her, his hand traveling up one of her calves to her thigh and the curve of her hip. He parted her legs and slid his hand along the inside of her thigh, gently brushing his fingers across her skin. God, she was beautiful.

  Sighing, she spread her legs wider and cupped his hand, drawing it up to her center. “I thought you’d never get here.” Guiding his fingers, she pressed them into her wet channel and swirled them around. “Think you can take it from here?”

  He smiled, the feel of her readiness making him rock hard. “I’ve got this.” Remy shoved her hands above her head and held them in one of his while the other parted her folds and stroked the tender strip of flesh between.

  Mitchell’s body arched off the bed, her hips rising. “That’s the way to do it. Right there.”

  He stopped and leaned back, admiring her beautiful body and the way her cheeks flushed when she was hot with desire. “Before we go any further, we should probably clear the air.”

  “What?” Mitchell jerked her hands from his grasp and leaned up on her elbows. “What air? You can’t stop now,” she wailed. “We were just getting started.”

  With a chuckle, Remy stroked her there again. Just once. “I want you to know that I’m over my guilt for what we did to Brewsky.”

  “Yeah. Me too.” Her words came out in short bursts. “It wasn’t right, but it’s the past.”

  “Exactly. Which brings up the point.” He knew what he wanted to say and couldn’t stop a knot from forming in the center of his chest.

  “The point that you’re wasting a perfectly good orgasm by talking too much?” She shook her head.

  Smoothing a hand over her hip, Remy smiled. “That I love you and I don’t want to be a once-in-a-while fling with you.”

  Mitchell grew still, her eyes wide, her bottom lip trembling. “Oh, baby.” She cupped his cheek in her palm. “Besides chocolate and flowers, that is the nicest gift you could have given me for Valentine’s Day.” She pressed her lips to his and kissed him long
and hard, her arms circling his neck, dragging him back to the mattress.

  After a few moments, Remy stopped kissing her and leaned back, frowning. “And?”

  “And what?” She winked up at him.

  “When a man tells a woman he loves her, he hopes she’ll return the affection.” He held his breath, waiting for her response, knowing how she’d felt about her job and relationships a year ago. He had no idea how she felt now. He swallowed hard. “If you don’t love me enough to commit now, I’ll wait. I’ll show you how good it can be—you and me.”

  Eyes twinkling, Mitchell pressed a finger to his lips. “Shut up, frogman.”

  “But you haven’t said—”

  “I love you, and I want to be with you.” She pushed a strand of his hair back from his forehead and kissed his lips in a light brush. “When I was held captive, all I could think about was getting out to be with you. I know how you feel about your job.”

  “And I know how you feel about yours.” The knot in his chest loosened and he pressed his forehead to hers. “There will be lots of time where we’re apart.”

  “We’ll make it work.”

  Remy sighed and brushed a finger along her soft cheek. “You’re an incredible woman.”

  “And you’re not so bad yourself. I’ll always have an image of you storming into that room all macho with your naked chest and tattoos.” Mitchell ran her fingernails along the lines of ink on his shoulders. “Now, is the air cleared? Can we get back down to business?” She lay back on the bed and spread her legs. “You were showing me how much you liked my boots.”

  “Oh, yes.” He settled his big body between her legs and sucked one of her breasts into his mouth. “Where was I?”

  “Farther down.”

  “Here?” He kissed her belly and circled his tongue in her navel.

  “You’re getting warmer.”

  Scooting down, he nuzzled the mound of hair over her sex, loving the tang of her arousal. “Here?”

  “You’re hot.” She ran her fingers through his hair.

  “Baby, don’t you know it.” He dove in and tongued her until she screamed out his name, then climbed up her body and thrust into her, hard and deep.

  This was where he belonged. And somehow he knew Brewsky was smiling down on him, happy he’d found what he’d been looking and waiting for.

  *

  Other Titles by Elle James

  Deadly Liaisons

  Deadly Engagement

  Cowboy Resurrected (Covert Cowboys Inc Book#4)

  Bodyguard Under Fire (Covert Cowboys Inc Book#3)

  Taking Aim (Covert Cowboys Inc Book#2)

  Triggered (Covert Cowboys Inc Book#1)

  Déjà Voodoo (Cajun Magic Book #3)

  Voodoo for Two (Cajun Magic Book #2)

  Voodoo on the Bayou (Cajun Magic Book #1)

  Tarzan & Janine

  Haunted

  Demon’s Embrace

  Hot Demon Nights

  Witch’s Seduction

  Witch’s Initiation

  Deadly Reckoning

  Thunder Horse Redemption

  Thunder Horse Heritage

  Hostage to Thunder Horse

  Wild at Heart

  Engaged with the Boss

  Cowboy Brigade

  Time Raiders: The Whisper

  Bundle of Trouble

  Killer Body

  Operation XOXO

  An Unexpected Clue

  Baby Bling

  Nick of Time

  Under Suspicion, With Child

  Texas-Sized Secrets

  Alaskan Fantasy

  Blown Away

  Cowboy Sanctuary

  Lakota Baby

  Dakota Meltdown

  Beneath the Texas Moon

  Breaking Free

  Book 1 of the SEAL TEAM Heartbreakers

  Teresa J. Reasor

  Copyright © 2011 Teresa J. Reasor

  EPUB Edition

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Prologue

  ‡

  Damn thing fits like a coffin lid. Lieutenant “Hawk” Yazzie eyed the edge of what had once been the outer wall of a building balanced above him. Sweat trickled across his shoulder blade down his side. He thrust aside the claustrophobic pressure and focused on the two lookouts on the roof through night vision binoculars. They weren’t moving. Good.

  Come on, come on.

  A silhouette appeared in the second story window. The light behind the man gave the impression of broad shoulders and a stocky frame. The rifle slung over his arm, the firearm’s barrel pointed skyward, identified him as another hostile. Hawk squinted but couldn’t make out his features. He’d counted six men upstairs earlier. Was this one of them or someone new?

  Three clicks came over the radio. “Doc”, Zack O’Connor signaled he was finished and in position.

  Hawk pushed the call button on his radio in answer.

  Where the hell were Cutter and Strong Man?

  Derrick Armstrong, “Strong Man” broke radio silence. “We have a problem, over.”

  Hawk’s muscles tensed.

  “C’s a no show, over,” Strong Man whispered.

  Fuck. The last assignment of their tour, and fucking Murphy’s Law decides to kick in.

  Hawk pressed the switch on his belt triggering his throat mike. “Cutter, come in, over.”

  Damn it, Cutter, respond.

  Silence.

  “Last location, over?” Hawk asked.

  “Ground floor. I thought he was right behind me, over.”

  Hawk blinked the sweat from his eye.

  “Five minutes, over.” Oliver Shaker, “Greenback”, their rear security, came across calm, level, reminding them they needed to get the hell out of here.

  God damn it.

  He’d never lost a man and Cutter wasn’t going to be the first.

  “I’m going back in for him, over.” Hawk shook free of his pack and slithered like a lizard from beneath the slab, pushing his submachine gun ahead of him and kicking up dust.

  There was always dust in this dry desert country. God, he was sick of it.

  He belly crawled to the cracked wall fifteen feet to his right. The rush of adrenaline pumping through his system thrust his heart into overdrive.

  He pushed to his feet behind a half wall still standing and glanced up at the second floor. Everything appeared still. All hell would have broken loose if they’d discovered Cutter. He was either trapped somewhere inside and waiting for an opportunity to escape or something worse.

  Shit.

  Hawk drew a deep breath and assessed the situation. He’d have to go up the street out of sight of the lookouts, go across, and work his way back. Keeping to the shadows next to the crumbled wall, he moved east down the strip of abandoned buildings.

  Gravel crunched just ahead. He dodged into a doorway and flattened himself against the wall. Shadows closed around him like a cocoon.

  A man strode by, a rifle held in the bend of his arm. He clasped a flashlight and projected a small golden circle on the broken sidewalk before him.

  Hawk withdrew his SOG knife and fell in behind the tango. Concrete debris crunched beneath his feet. The man started to turn. Hawk slit his throat and any sound he might have made strangled to a gurgle. Hawk caught him as he sagged, dragged the body to a doorway, and rolled it into the shadows.

  He took off his helmet, tossed it aside, and peeled off his tack vest. The cloying, coppery scent of blood hit him as he jerked the tango’s shirt free and put it on over his body armor. With his dark hair and skin, he’d pass for one of them.

  Maybe.

  Hanging the MP-5 down his spine, he retrieved the MK-47 rifle and flashlight.

  Seconds ticked by in his head like a metronome. Two minutes thirty seconds. His muscles jerked with his efforts t
o keep his pace to a stroll when everything in him urged him to run.

  A voice called from the second story window asking if he’d seen anything. His heart rate surged.

  Think.

  Answer him.

  He formulated an answer in the local Kurdish dialect. Sweat ran in itchy rivulets down his spine beneath the Kevlar vest that hugged his torso.

  The man said something about a cold. Hawk grunted an agreement.

  He thumbed off the rifle’s safety and putting his finger on the trigger, dodged into the building through the front door. The room opened into a dark, empty hallway. After a moment’s pause, he flipped on the flashlight and trotted down the hall to the fourth doorway on the left.

  A voice called from upstairs asking what he was doing.

  “Getting my ass blown up,” he murmured beneath his breath. He darted into the back storage room. Crates stacked nearly to the ceiling lined the walls. One crate stood open, straw spilt onto the floor around it. AK-47 rifles lay nestled inside.

  Intel was right. They had to get out of here.

  Hawk flicked the flashlight back and forth as he worked his way through Cutter’s route.

  A black piece of fabric sticking out from behind some furniture caught his attention and he jogged to it. Cutter lay crumpled into a ball behind a heavily carved cabinet, his helmet beside him. Blood coated the side of his head near his temple and pooled on the floor.

  Jesus. What the fuck happened? Hawk bent to check for a pulse. It beat weak and thready beneath his fingertips.

  He glanced at his watch. One minute. Fear ripped through him. His breathing grew labored. He laid the flashlight and rifle atop some crates and swung his MP-5 into position under his arm. Bending, he heaved Cutter’s limp frame up and over his shoulder.

  Forty-five seconds. Hawk’s stomach and back muscles grew taut as he adjusted to the one hundred and seventy pounds of limp weight with an effort.

  He poked his head out. The hall light flashed on. A tango blinked at Hawk in surprise. He shouted an alarm as he raised a pistol and closed the distance between them at a run.