SEALed with a Ring

by Mary Margret Daughtridge

  After a good bit of reconnaissance, he had spot ted the tiny hooks that restrained the halter top of her dress. Never letting the rhythm falter, never yielding his claim to her mouth, he brought his hands to her nape and released them.

  Their steps faltered as they sought to get closer. He relished the fluid feel of her breasts against his chest. He filled his hands with her buttocks pressing her closer. She twined one leg around his.

  "I want skin." Her hands tugged at his polo shirt.

  What the lady wanted, the lady got. He pulled it over his head and sent it flying. It landed on the newel post, not that he knew it at the time.

  "Hang on." He grasped her waist and lifted. She in stantly clasped her legs around his middle. With them in better line with his mouth, he nuzzled her breasts.

  "Oh yes!" She arched her back to give him better access.

  She clung to his neck with one hand while, with the other, she offered her breast like luscious fruit. Her core was hot against his abdomen. He suckled hard. Her pas sion ratcheted up another notch. With each climb, her torso undulated, her legs tightened. The heels of her shoes dug into his buttocks.

  Knowing each exact moment her arousal surged filled him with a heady rush of power, as arousing as anything he'd ever experienced. His forearms supporting her thighs, he dug his fingers into her hot, wet center. A silky barrier blocked his way. He ruthlessly found the seam and ripped it.

  He pushed one finger, two, into her tight, wet heat. He experimented until he found the rhythm she was looking for.

  She could come like this. She would.

  JJ had, once before in her life, yielded to desire; this time she exulted in wild, unfettered freedom. She felt him tear through the sewn-in panty of the dress, and then his hand was there. There. With the same perfectly timed rhythm as his ministrations at her breasts.

  His hard arms secure under her thighs, her hair brush ing her bare back, the chandelier with its hundred glit tering prisms above her, sinuous, seductive music—this moment filled her entire world. She heard herself crying "Good, good," in laughing sobs.

  He urged her to climb to the peak with triumphant resolution. And then she shattered. She clung to his shoulders, pulling his wild, hot, male scent deep into her lungs as wave after wave gripped then released her.

  He gently set her on her feet, continuing to support most of her weight. While she rested her head on his shoulder, he murmured praise and printed kisses on her throat.

  As her breathing evened out, his kisses became more insistent, as did the fierce urgency with which he kneaded her back and molded her closer to him. He claimed her mouth in hot, hard demand, gripped the back of her head to keep her exactly where he wanted her and, with his other hand, pushed her against his arousal.

  Not to her surprise, the searing throb at her core was already back. In fact, it had never faded. It had simply found a plateau and rested there. She insinuated a hand between his ridged belly and slacks, seeking him. She caught his gaze, letting him read her intention that she would have him.

  He opened his slacks for her explorations, toeing off his loafers.

  She hooked one leg around his to bring him to her. She had never pushed the bottom half of her dress the rest of the way off, but after what he'd done to it, it offered no impediment. The fine tremor in the leg bear ing her weight increased, but she denied it. He gently pushed the leg she'd wrapped around him back down. "No, I want—"

  "I know what you want. Your legs are too tired."

  She would have protested except it was the truth. "What then? The floor's too hard. And cold. The stairs are worse."

  "Now I get what I want." He stepped out of his slacks.

  He looked a little scary all of a sudden. All powerful muscle and hard intent. Not bad scary. More big male an imal scary. Make that big, male, aroused animal scary.

  Reflexively, JJ backed away, half-laughing, half nervous. "Um, let's talk this over."

  "No talking." He came after her, stalking her step for step. As if it were a new dance. Rumba music still played, but their moves had the edgy tension of a tango.

  She backed into the umbrella stand, which didn't contain umbrellas but a collection of walking canes acquired over the generations. JJ grabbed for it, but it went over. Wooden canes spilled everywhere, their clatter loud.

  "See what you did," he chided, nimbly stepping over the small obstacles.

  JJ backed around a corner and, not looking where she was going, caught her heel in the rolled-up rug. One hand flew out and knocked a painting askew. Going down, she grabbed for anything and found his hands already on her waist, already setting her on her feet.

  "Failure to watch your six," he tsked. "You are not practicing proper safety awareness," he told her sternly. "There will be penalties." Not giving her time to think, he scooped her into his arms. He headed down the hall toward Lucas's suite.

  He turned into the much narrower hall where the door to the pool was. One of JJ's feet, still shod in her danc ing heels, collided with a wall sconce. Its bulb went out, plunging them into shadows.

  "All right." He put her on her feet. "Better take it single file from here. But first, now that it has served its purpose, we need to get you out of this." He pushed the bottom half of her dress off her hips. "Will you wear it for me again sometime?"

  He stripped her efficiently. JJ couldn't get a reading on his half-joking, wholly intense mien, the feral light in his eyes, the low, growly, uninflected voice. She could feel her eyes get wider. Her heart kept skipping little beats. Her breath exploded in sharp pants.

  He paused, one hand firmly gripping her upper arm, one hand on the doorknob. "Do exactly as I say, and nobody gets hurt."

  He sounded so serious. Her heart stumbled, badly, before it found its beat again. "Come off it. Nobody's going to get hurt."

  His implacable, graven look said more clearly than any words that she was in his power, they both knew it, and whether anyone got hurt was totally up to him. "Will you do as I say?"

  Then she saw—even in the shadowy hall with only a vague luminance coming through the glass pool door— the glint of teasing deadpan humor. He was playing. And making it just real enough to be thoroughly thrill ing. Something like a warm spring from deep within the earth bubbled to the surface, moistening and heating all the cold dry places in her soul.

  As clearly as if he'd spoken aloud, she heard, "Trust me." It really was that simple. She could do what he said, and nobody would get hurt.

  Trusting was a huge leap for her. It wasn't about ad mitting him access to her body. This was about stepping away from the control she sought to maintain over her world, the boundaries she stayed in charge of so that she always knew where they were. This was about learning to swim with the chaos of life instead of erecting barri ers against it. This was about letting go of the anchors, moving away from all that tied her in one place.

  This was about not managing life but participating in it.

  She raised her hand, schoolgirl polite. "May I ask a question?"

  "What is it?" He growled. He opened the door. One hand on the small of her back urged her into the thick, humid atmosphere of the pool.

  She tossed him a smile over her shoulder. "If you're going to throw me in the pool, do you mind if I take off my shoes first?"

  "I like the shoes." God, he did. He flipped on the un derwater lights. The shimmering light licked over every perfect, soft curve of breasts and hips and graceful line of long, long leg. Whatever you called the peachy color of the shoes, it almost perfectly matched her skin tone, making her look even more naked than if her feet were bare. "The shoes come off when I take them off."

  His groin hardened even more. His heart thudded. Reluctantly he admitted he was never going to last through the love play he had planned. Meticulous plan ning and attention to detail were the keys to success. He had stored a selection of floats as well as silicone gel that maximized sensual water play. But they would have to wait for another time.

 
She was enjoying their little game of domination. A SEAL stayed flexible and took advantage of opportunities.

  The thing was, he wasn't playing now. It no longer mattered how many other women there were in the world. He finally had her complete attention, and he wanted her. He wanted to master her. He wanted to take her into the fire and let it consume them both.

  "Do you understand that I have you in my power?"

  "Yes."

  "And that I can do anything I want to with you?"

  "Yes."

  "Are you going to stop with the smart mouth?"

  "No."

  "So you're going to need a demonstration of just what I can do to you?"

  "Probably." She let a dark tress fall over one eye. "I am bad, and I am thoroughly out of control."

  "Are you saying I might need to restrain you?"

  "You might."

  "I'd better search you first. Up against the wall."

  "Aren't you supposed to say, 'On the ground! Get on the ground!'"

  "The wall."

  She sauntered to one of the tiled walls, hips moving in slow undulation. He had to fight not to laugh aloud at the amount of sexy insolence she managed to put into it.

  "Spread 'em." She moved her feet apart. He looked her up and down. "Even though nothing is concealed, I'd better pat you down."

  "I'll need both hands free so I'll restrain you this way." He leaned against her letting her feel his weight. He traced her outline, in light lingering caress not ne glecting any part.

  "Now we do the cavity checks." He knelt in front of her.

  "That's not how you do it."

  He gripped her hips. "Who's had more experience here?"

  "You."

  "Then trust me when I say this is the only way to be thorough."

  When her legs trembled, he inquired in his smooth voice, "Are you ready to cooperate now?"

  He swept her up in his arms and carried her to a pad ded vinyl-covered bench. "What can I do to you?"

  "Anything you want to."

  "That's right." He positioned her so that her buttocks were at the end. He lifted one of her feet and then the other to his shoulders. "Now, I'm going to make you scream." Much later, they lay in JJ's bed, spooned together, one of David's beautiful, strong arms a comforting weight across her midsection—the way sleeping together had already begun to feel natural.

  JJ waited until she felt his arm grow heavier as David gave in to complete relaxation. "I've been thinking," she announced. "Snatch isn't quite the right name. He needs something a little more dignified."

  The arm tensed. "Dignified."

  "Snatch doesn't give him enough to live up to, if you know what I mean."

  "Did you have another name in mind?"

  "What do you think of Pudendum? It means…"

  "I know what it means."

  JJ flipped herself over. She twisted her fingers in the hair of his chest. "Shame! And you're the one who should be ashamed."

  "Oh, I am."

  She gave a good yank. "You're not."

  "Okay. I'm not."

  The man was laughing. Not out loud maybe, but she could tell.

  She flipped over on her back. "Bronwyn told me it's a bad word, really dirty. As bad as cu—I can't make myself say it."

  He rose on one elbow to look into her face. "I look at you, and I can't think any of those words that refer to that part of you are dirty or ugly."

  That was so sweet. She couldn't give in yet. She crossed her arms over her chest. Added a pout. "You're trying to butter me up."

  "How am I doing?"

  "Terrible. You're supposed to be contrite. You should have seen some of the looks I got today."

  "Tell me who they were. I'll beat 'em up."

  "You can't. I told people I chose it because it was macho-sounding!… Oh, my God! Macho-sounding." She giggled. "I name the dog—you know—and think it's macho!" She laughed harder. "No wonder they were looking at me." Every time she thought of their faces, she went off into more gales of laughter. She began to roll around on the bed. "Macho!"

  David grabbed her and began to roll with her, both of them shouting with laughter. After a while they weren't laughing.

  Spooned together again, JJ placed one of David's arms across her midsection. Comfortable now, JJ yawned and said, "His name is Brinkley."

  "Brinkley?"

  "Do. Not. Argue. I'm going to sleep now."

  David squeezed her lightly. "Good night, Jane."

  "Good night, David."

  David dreamed.

  It was the prettiest meadow he'd seen in Afghanistan. A fresh breeze rippled lush grass into satiny-looking waves. Overhead, the sky was so blue his heart lifted in joy just to look at it. Perfect, cot tony clouds sailed and trailed shadows from one side of the meadow to the other and across the encircling mountains.

  It was the perfect place for horses, and sure enough there were two—a black one and a brown one, their coats gleaming in the sunlight, drinking from the shal low stream that gurgled through the grass.

  "I need to get back." Garth stood and dusted off his camo. The desert gray and tan looked out of place in this verdant spot. "You coming?"

  David leaned back against the grassy knoll that fit his shoulders and supported his head as if designed for him. "I don't think so. This spot is perfect. The sun is warm the air is cool… I smell flowers and pine trees. Pine trees! Can you believe it? This place looks more like a high meadow in the Rockies than Afghanistan."

  "You can't stay here."

  David laughed at the absurdity of that. "Why not? I like it here. I like it better than Afghanistan."

  "You just can't."

  Somewhere in the distance a bird called. "I don't have the energy to move right now, but when I do, I'm going to ride the horses."

  "Doc. Davy. Listen, you've got to come back. They think you're dead."

  "I am."

  "No, you're not!"

  "If I don't have a problem with it, Lieutenant, I don't see why you do."

  "Get up. That's an order."

  "Go to hell, Lieutenant." David smiled to show he meant no offense. Go to hell. It seemed like a really funny thing for somebody who was dead to say.

  "They're searching for you right now, Doc. I don't know how long I can keep them searching. We're losing light."

  "Tell them to go on without me."

  "You know I can't do that. SEALs never abandon a fallen comrade. And nobody saw where you went after you flushed the bad guys from their position. Nobody saw you hit," Darth insisted. "You might be alive."

  "I told you I'm not."

  "How can you be so sure?"

  "I never wanted anything but to be a SEAL. Never. I got to be a SEAL, and I got to be there for my buddies. I couldn't have gotten any luckier than that. I fulfilled my destiny."

  "So you're letting yourself die."

  "I think it was the Plan." Cool, sparkling joy welled up in him again. "You know, what I was born to do."

  "Bullshit! There is no destiny except the destiny we make by making choices."

  "Fine. I chose to die. I knew I wouldn't survive as soon as I took the first shot. You know how the instructors always used to say 'A man alone in battle will not survive.'"

  "Isn't there anything you want to live for?"

  "To be a SEAL."

  "Then isn't there anything you regret?"

  "Yeah. When I was a teenager, I gave my mom a hard time. I was so wild she had to send me to military school. I wish now I'd helped her instead. And I could be a prize jackass. I wish I could apologize."

  "Isn't there anyone you hate to leave?"

  "No one who needs me."

  "How about a girl?"

  "There was someone… but I totally screwed that up. Talk about a dead end. I didn't even get her name." All that seemed to have happened too long time ago to be worth worrying about now. "I'm real tired. I think I'll take a nap now."

  "Okay, I'll carry you."

  David looked at the blo
od that soaked Garth's camo pants from his hip to his knee. Funny that he hadn't no ticed it before. "You've lost a lot of blood."

  "I'm losing more while I'm standing here talking to you."

  David fought his lethargy. Garth needed him. "Where are you hit?"