Thank God. "Are you hungry?" Gunner kissed her neck as he asked.
She shivered under his caress and murmured a breathless, “No. Wait, I mean yes."
He chuckled as he drew his lips along the column of her neck. "Which is it?" He breathed the words behind her ear in the exact spot he'd found to be one of her erogenous zones when they’d made love before.
"Yes. Hungry for you." Her hands snaked around his neck. "Starving."
"Well, then let's take care of that." He straightened, and her arms drifted down his chest. He captured one hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing it as he backed her down the hallway to his room. It was quite possibly the longest twenty seconds of his life.
He lifted the cotton edge of her t-shirt and pulled it off. She smiled at him and reached behind to unfasten and slip off her bra. Rose colored nipples hardened under his touch. He dropped to his knees in front of her. A.J.'s hands ran through his hair as he looked up at her. "You are beautiful, inside and out." The truth of the words flooded through him. He leaned forward, kissing her stomach.
"So are you." Her hands cupped his face as he drew back.
He chuckled, "Don't ever let my team hear you say that." All thoughts of conversation dissipated into thin air. He let his tongue and mouth play as he unfastened her jeans and slid them down her legs. The barely-there piece of satin he found under the denim lasted two seconds before he had her naked. He stood and possessed her mouth while he maneuvered her into his bed and underneath him. Her warm kisses welcomed him back into her embrace, and he reveled in the wonder of that gift. Gunner lifted up long enough to gaze at her. He wanted the image of her flushed face, swollen lips and heavily hooded eyes permanently etched in his brain.
She ran her hands up and down his arm. "Make love to me."
Gunner lowered to kiss her tenderly, speaking in between soft swipes of his lips against hers. "I will if you make love to me." He wanted to be sure they were on the same page. Communication between them needed to be crystal clear.
"For as long as you'll let me." She wrapped her arms around his neck.
"Then forever it is." Gunner silenced whatever she was going to say with a kiss that he prayed showed her how much she meant to him. He pressed his body against hers, touching as much skin as he could.
His need to possess her body and claim her as his own burned brighter than any desire he'd ever experienced. The feel of A.J.'s skin under his hands, the warmth of her sensual lips on his were gasoline on the fire her mere presence ignited and stoked his desire into a raging flame of intensity.
She rubbed her entire naked length against his body. He fucking shuddered, the sensation of her hard nipples against his chest adding more fuel to his already insane need. She lifted her arm and wrapped her hand around the back of his neck. He lowered to kiss the sweet spot just below her ear. She leaned her head away giving him complete access. "You remember when I told you there would be a time for urgency?" "Ummm...I do remember that. Could this be the time?" She leaned her head back and tipped her eyes up to make contact with his.
"It is definitely the time." He stopped and glanced toward the drawer of his nightstand. "I'm going to have to leave you for a moment." Her hand on his arm stilled him. "I don't need them if you tell me we're okay without them. I'm on birth control."
"I swear I'm good to go. I was tested regularly for everything while I was in the Navy." He dropped his lips to her neck again. That little gasp she made lit him up. Fuck, she was so responsive to his touch.
"I was checked several times in the hospital before I left Texas. You were the first...since."
He moved slightly so he could bring his mouth over hers in a sloppy, needy, hot-as-fucking-hell, kiss. As soon as his lips left hers, he growled, "I'm the only one from now on."
"God, yes," she agreed as he flipped her to her stomach and pulled on her hips.
“Hands and knees, babe.”
She braced herself on her arms and glanced back at him. "Bring it on sailor boy. Rock my world."
He brought them together. Her mind-numbingly tight heat gloved his cock. She pushed back against him, demanding without words. She was perfection, rocking as he thrust. They exploded when they met. The compulsion of his body overrode his desire to draw the union out. Their bodies fucking melded together. A.J. gasped, then tightened around his cock. Her guttural moan filled the room. He grabbed her hips and rode through his climax.
He withdrew and she collapsed on the bed with a moan. He lay next to her and carefully rolled her to her back. He moved the thick fall of auburn hair away from her face so he could see her. “You okay?”
She opened her eyes and crossed them comically with a vigorous nod, then closed them again and snuggled into his arms. He lingered over her, kissing her with lazy, languid strokes of his tongue. The intimacy of this moment was on a level he'd never experienced. He wasn't virtuous. He'd slept around, but he'd never had this—the connection, the emotion, the need to protect and to cherish.
Lying together, they let their hands roam, touch, caress and learn. Nothing overtly sexual, just two people enjoying each other.
"Tell me about them?" A.J. tilted her head so he could see her face as she spoke.
"Who?" "Your team. You've mentioned them before." She reached back, grabbed the blanket, and covered both of them.
"They are some of the best men on the planet." He lifted the arm she wasn't laying on, above his head and propped himself up a bit. He stared up at the ceiling and thought about the men that served with him. Each of them had sacrificed for their country, individually and through the years, together. They'd all sweated blood as they accomplished missions no one would ever know about. He smiled to himself because that was as it should be. A.J.'s fingertips against his chest drew his mind back to her question. "They are my brothers, if not by genetics then by choice. Not a single one of them has good taste, though."
She lifted up on her elbow, a cascade of auburn hair falling around her shoulders. "What?"
"Well considering we run a pub, what would you say about a guy who walked in and ordered a Salty Dog?" Chase loved those fucking grapefruit drinks.
A.J. laughed. "Some people like the bitterness."
"Yeah, I guess it takes all types. Chase can down those sour things." Gunner wrinkled his nose. "We have the waitresses and bar staff hopping when we're together.”
"Well, I know you prefer single malt." She straddled him, lying on her stomach on his chest with her hands cupped under her chin. "There had to be a bourbon or whiskey drinker, right?"
"Yeah, Asher drinks bourbon, neat. No ice."
A.J. chuckled, "Smart man. Who wants to pay for ice?"
"Right?" Gunner laughed with her. "Hell, the places we were deployed to, the water was sketchy. Ice wasn't always a good bet."
She snorted and glanced up at him. "No doubt. What other types of drinks? Am I going to have to learn to make something exotic if these guys come to visit?"
Gunner shook his head. "Maybe, Clay drinks dirty martinis. Carson loves Sex on the Beach."
A.J. lifted her chin off her hands in surprise. "You mean vodka and peach schnapps, that kind of sex on the beach?"
Gunner grimaced. "Shit I hope so, actual sex on a beach is one gritty fuck." He got a smack on the shoulder for that comment, but A.J. laughed with him anyway.
"Let's see, Nikko is easy. He drinks beer. Trevor only drinks coffee."
"Yeah? Why?" She lay on his chest, her cheek pressed against his pec.
"Why only coffee?"
She nodded her head as he played with her hair.
"I don't know. He's not a drinker. I assumed he had his reasons. We all respected it." He lifted her hair and let it drop slowly. "Then there is Red. Noah Seager. The man drinks red wine."
A.J. lifted her head enough to raise an eyebrow at him. "Really?"
"Uh huh. No shit. Crazy, I know." She let out a small laugh as she lay back down. He could feel her body relaxing on top of him. "Conner is the last of the
group. He drinks Rusty Nails."
A.J lifted her finger but didn't move. Her voice emerged sleepy. "I like Rusty Nails. Drambuie and scotch. What's not to like?" Her hand drifted down to his shoulder as her breathing deepened and evened out.
Gunner smiled to himself. What's not to like? Nothing. Life was fucking perfect.
Chapter 16
A.J. looked up from the book she was reading on her phone and once again glanced out the front window at the deserted Main Street. The rain was coming down hard. It was an evil night even though she and Gunner were working together. He'd taken over Tessa's shift after the woman eloped with a certain police officer. The happy couple would be back next week. In the meantime, she and Gunner worked together, and Silas worked with August. It was a perfect schedule and had given them all plenty of time off.
The rain swept the pavement in sheets as she watched. Nobody had ventured out in the storm, and they should be closing up, even though it was early. She'd already wiped everything down, and kept herself occupied at the front of the house, while Gunner cussed and fumed in the back. Tonight, he was finishing his build of a new shelving system in the storage room. She'd learned pretty fast asking if she could help would only end up with her watching from two feet away rather than twenty as he worked and cussed and fumed.
It had been three months since he'd returned to Half Moon Bay. A month and a half since she’d almost killed him. Near death via mussels. It was a thing. She chuckled and shook her head. She would never forgive herself for that, but what they had together since then was amazing.
Gunner's phone rang. She could hear the ringtone, a croaking bullfrog, clearly. She had no idea why he liked the sound, but she guessed it held some significance to him.
The cussing stopped. "Say what?" Another pause. "No, I didn't. Seriously, I couldn't have heard you right. Repeat it?"
She slid off the stool where she'd been sitting and headed back to the storeroom. Gunner was sitting on his heels, hammer and shelf beside him. She took in the space around her. Oh, dang, the shelving unit was impressive.
"You're fucking with me, right?" Gunner looked up at her and smiled. A wide, happy smile. "When?" He looked down at the floor and then at his watch. He cupped the phone against his ear and swiped his watch bringing up the calendar. "Soooo...a week, huh?" Gunner laughed. "A week! Dude, how the fuck does that happen in seven days?" He listened some more. "Well, listen Red, you and...I'm sorry, what's her name again?" Gunner paused. "Right. You and Ellie come on out, any time. We need to catch up, and I have someone I want you to meet." He laughed and winked at A.J. "Not telling you shit until you get your ass out here. I have a small rental house on our property, right on Half Moon Bay. Consider it a honeymoon or something like that." Gunner listened for a while longer. "Am I the first one you've called?" He threw back his head and laughed hard. "Right. Consider the invite open-ended. I don't envy you those calls, man." He listened for a minute longer and laughed again. "Congratulations, I'm happy for you. Get your ass out here." Gunner pulled the phone away from his ear, put it one of the completed shelves, and turned towards her.
"Good news?" A.J. leaned against the door jamb and kept an eye on the front of the house in case some adventurous soul braved the storm for a drink.
A smirk spread across his face. "My friend, Noah, got married."
"Noah, the red wine drinker?" It had become a game matching up the drinks to the names of his teammates when he talked about them.
"Yeah, the kicker is, he got married a week after he got out. But, wait for it...he wasn't seeing anyone when he got out." Gunner shook his head and chuckled.
A.J. had to digest that one for a second. "A week, huh? Wow, I thought we were moving quickly. Married in a week? That's impressive."
"Right? I guess she was his high school sweetheart, or he knew her in high school? I didn’t really catch all of it. He was talking fast."
"I heard you invite them out here." She lifted her eyebrows and waited for his response.
"Yeah, I'd like you to meet him. Well, them." Gunner slid the last shelf into place. The practicality of the design was impressive.
A.J. waited until he looked back at her and gave him a pointed look. "Uh huh. You offered them my house."
Gunner stood, put the hammer on the shelf with his phone and then drew her into his arms. "You do kinda live with me, already. It would take a single afternoon this weekend to move the rest of your stuff over."
"Aww...you are such a romantic! Is that your way of asking me to move in with you? Inviting your friends to honeymoon in my house?" A.J. blinked up at him.
"Maybe. Should I have fancied it up?" He squinted at her like she was a jigsaw puzzle and he was looking for the right piece.
She squinted back at him. "Maybe. But I'll let you off the hook."
He perked up at that. "Yeah?" His face split with a beautiful smile.
She shook her head looking up at him. He was such a man-child at times. "Yeah, but only because I love you."
Gunner had been leaning in for a kiss when she said the words. He froze. His eyes darted to hers. "Say that again."
A.J. steeled herself and repeated her words, "I love you."
She shrieked when Gunner let out a 'whoop' and swept her into his arms spinning her around. He dropped her to her feet and cupped her face in his hands. "You don't know how many times I wanted to say that to you." His mouth dropped to hers and he kissed her until she was dizzy and clinging to him for balance.
Gunner drew up and looked around, still holding her in his arms. "We need to close up. There's nobody here, and nobody is coming out in this weather."
A.J. stepped back when he loosened his embrace. The fact he hadn't said it back to her niggled at her, but his reaction said volumes, so she'd let it go. For now.
He spun her and pointed her toward the bar with a slap on the butt. "I'm going to sweep up in here. Could you bring back the trash? I'll take it out with the scraps and other stuff. No need getting drenched more than once."
"Ah...sure." A.J. headed to the front of the bar, slightly off balance and one hundred percent elated. Gunner's happy whistle followed her down the hall. Would she ever totally understand that man?
A.J. emptied the small amount of trash behind the bar and took it to the back. The rain had abated a bit. She agreed with Gunner. No one would venture out at nine-thirty on a rain-soaked night to have a drink, so she punched her code into the register and started the process of ringing the cash register out for the night.
The bell over the front door tinkled. A.J. glanced up from the register and froze. Marcus's brother Mitchell stood inside the door. A sinister sneer spread across his face. "Did you think we wouldn't find you?" His held his right hand behind his back as stalked closer with a menacingly slow pace that terrified her. She glanced down the hall but snapped her eyes back toward Mitchell.
"You sisters are shit about keeping your whereabouts quiet. Rumor has it you bought into this place." He withdrew a baseball bat. "What right do you have moving on when Marcus is stuck in the Penn? He's fucking stuck on laundry room detail. Do you know what that means? Do you know what happens to men who work in the laundry room? They end up as prison whores."
A.J. shook her head. Her heart slammed against her chest as her mind raced. How could she get him to leave? How could she warn Gunner?
She glanced down the hallway. "Worried about that bartender? Don't. Malcolm is making sure we have more than enough time alone."
The back door slammed open and Gunner strode through with a ferocious snarl. She knew Gunner could see her, pushed back against the wall. She shook her head. No, please, God, she didn't want him to get hurt. Not because of her.
Gunner stalked down the hallway. He didn't hesitate for a second. He didn't ask any questions. He advanced on Mitchell. Mitchell pulled the bat back to swing. A.J. shouted, and Gunner stepped in close and threw a quick jab, snapping Mitchell's head back. Blood squirted across his face. Gunner's muscles flexed, and he twisted.
There were solid thuds and sounds A.J. never wanted to hear again. It literally took seconds for Gunner to send the man sprawling toward the floor. He landed in a heap at Gunner's feet, and Gunner wasn't even breathing heavy, but he was pissed. Fury radiated off of him. He glanced over at her and she saw the transformation from enraged warrior to Iceman. His voice was calm, and he became tranquil. Like a switch flipped inside him. "A.J., honey, call the police."
She jumped and grabbed her phone. Her hands shook violently as she pushed the three numbers on her cell. She watched as Gunner picked up the bat and nudged Mitchell with the toe of his boot. The man didn't move.
Gunner shook his head as he spoke, "Glass jaw. Figures."
A woman answered, "Nine-one-one do you have—"
"Yes, I have a fucking emergency!" A.J. cut her off. "A man was here to attack me."
The calm, placid tone asked, "Where's here ma'am?"
A.J. snapped, "The Wayward Walrus. Main Street."
The woman had a little more urgency in her voice when she asked, "Is he still there, are you safe?"
"Yeah, Gunner knocked him out. There's another one in the back alley." She glanced at Gunner who had rolled Mitchell onto his side. Blood leaked from the man's nose.
"Tell her to send an ambulance. He's unconscious, the other one has a broken knee."
"He said to..."
"Yes ma'am, I heard. The police should..."
"They're here." Three cars slid almost simultaneously to the curb in front of the bar. The officers ran in, guns drawn. Gunner held up his hands, and so did she, her phone still in her hand.
A.J. spoke as soon as the officers stopped shouting. "I have a restraining order against him." A.J. chanced to lower her hand a bit to point at Mitchell. "He had a baseball bat and was threatening me. Gunner rescued me."
The last of the officers left and A.J. locked the door behind them. He watched her lean against the door for a moment before she braced her shoulders and turned back to him. She walked across the front of the bar to where he sat on a stool with his hand stuck in a bowl of ice—one she demanded he put his fist into. He complied, because just maybe she needed to be in charge of something tonight. Most everything was spinning by her at warp speed. His little firecracker was hovering over him, and he was okay with that. When she stood across from him, he pulled his fist out of the bucket of ice. A.J. took it in her hands and examined the bruising. It was minimal. He'd done worse just fucking around.
Hot SEAL, Single Malt (SEALs in Paradise Book 9) Page 11
