When was the last time he’d been turned on by a woman? Not her clothes or her body, but her?
Brenden straightened his legs and dropped the last few inches to the ground. Sure enough, less than a foot separated the two of them. Priscilla made no more to step back or give him space. Her interest was firmly on him.
He took the bottle from her and twisted the cap off then drank deeply of the chilled water.
What he did or said next mattered. What did he want? What was the right decision for him?
He knew what the guys watching them right now were probably thinking. That wasn’t a great mystery, but he wasn’t them. And yet his physical response to her was potent, visceral and taking up more and more of his brain.
She tipped her chin up and finally met his gaze. “Seeing as I’ll probably never see you after tomorrow, want to have that dinner?”
“I’d rather have you.” The words were out of his mouth before he realized he was speaking.
Her eyes went wide.
Shit.
He took a step back and swiped his face with the shirt he’d tucked in the waistband of his shorts. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Why not? Makes a girl feel wanted. I was beginning to wonder if you agreed to dinner out of pity. Or maybe you were trying to placate me.” She braced her left hand on the frame above her head, making the now even higher hem of her shirt drift upward a bit more.
His gaze felt as though it were pulled lower, to her breasts. “I did not.”
“Are there rules against this?”
This could mean anything, but the answer to all forms of interpretation were the same.
Attraction. Lust. The desire for more.
“No.” He squeezed the now empty bottle, crushing it in his grasp. “Sometimes I wonder if the lack of rules is intentional.”
“Why’s that?”
“The truth?” His view could piss her off.
“Always.” One side of her mouth hitched higher.
“I think when a client gets involved with one of us they can become easier to manage.” They could also make things ten times more difficult, too.
“Well thank God my vagina doesn’t control my brain.” She let go of the frame and for a moment he thought she might come closer, but she didn’t. “I’m not usually this forward.”
“You should be.” This wasn’t the first time a woman had pursued him, but that was typically a different case. A woman wanting to fuck a SEAL for the notch on her belt, nothing more. Pricilla’s pursuit across the gym was different. She was focused on him, not who he was or what he’d done.
“Why? Does this work for you?” She crossed her arms under her chest, once more doing great things for her breasts with that V-neck. “Do you like a bossy woman?”
“You’re confident. There’s a difference.”
“Like what?”
His brain knew, but finding the words was a struggle. Talking never was his strong suit. He was a doing things kind of guy.
“You aren’t domineering and you don’t bark orders. That’s bossy. Nothing wrong with that if that’s your thing. But you?” He couldn’t resist anymore. He reached out and splayed his hand against her side, but he neither pulled her to him or pushed her away. Just touched her. “It’s confidence, and confidence is...sexy.”
His gaze took a meandering path up her body to her face. This close he could see every tiny detail. How her eyes were a mix of blues, greens and brown, the hazel shifting colors. Her left cheek was slightly sunken in. Was she biting it?
He slid his hand up her side and brushed her fist, noting the tension in her grip and the muscles along her back.
Priscilla was confident to a point. Right now she had on a good face, but she wasn’t nearly as self-assured in this exchange as she was pretending to be. For some reason that tipped the scale for him.
Brenden lifted his other hand and gently lifted her chin. He bent his head, but didn’t kiss her. Not yet.
“If I didn’t know for a fact that my team is probably watching us right this very minute, I’d kiss you. I’d pick you up, put your back against that wall and I wouldn’t let you down until you were begging me to fuck you.”
Her eyes widened and her lips parted. He felt her intake of breath and saw the flare of her nostrils. She liked that. She didn’t just want a boy toy. No, she was interested in him.
Priscilla licked her lips. When she spoke her voice was breathy, not as coy as it had been before. “You’re pretty confident yourself, aren’t you?”
“You’d chew up and spit a lesser man out.”
Now she grinned and relaxed her shoulders, arms uncrossing. “Guilty.”
Brenden’s mind was made up. He was going to have her and dinner, but not here.
6.
THURSDAY. EMILIANO Rio, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.
Priscilla retreated to the back of the elevator. She braced her hand on the rail and watched Brenden’s broad shoulders glistening with sweat. He hadn’t put his shirt on and she hoped he didn’t.
The urge to fidget or do something to use up the nervous energy bubbling inside of her was nearly overpowering. She bit her lip and gripped the railing on her other side.
The elevator doors shut and Brenden turned to face her.
The moment his eyes locked on her, she stilled. Hell, she could hardly breathe.
Who was this woman she’d become?
Priscilla was not the initiator when it came to men. Flirting wasn’t her strength. More often than not she was surprised to learn a man was putting the moves on her. But with Brenden? It was different. She wanted him regardless of what her norm was.
Did he know she had no idea what she was doing?
She was in over her head, as evidence by the full-body burn when he’d touched her. His hand on her side wasn’t even overtly sexual, and yet in that moment she knew more than any other she wanted him.
The elevator creeped up and neither of them glanced away.
Live in the moment.
After what she’d been through, she didn’t want to regret things and she knew if she didn’t follow through she’d never forgive herself. Some things were a once in a lifetime opportunity.
A night with Brenden fit the bill.
The elevator dinged. He changed. One moment he was staring at her like he was considering stripping her in the elevator. The next he was alert and his focus on the doors sliding open. He stepped out first, glancing up and down the hall. Because he was primed to face danger at every turn.
That did something to her insides. Whenever she went out, she was the safety conscious one. She walked her girlfriends to their cabs, to their cars, made sure they all got home safe. The idea of someone being that person for her was new. And nice. It took a burden off her shoulders she’d never thought about before this moment.
Brenden held out his hand, curling his fingers.
She wanted to take it, to hang onto him, but that wasn’t what he was offering. And he had no idea where her head was at. So instead she stepped past him into the hall.
His warm, large hand splayed against her back. Her lungs forgot how to breathe for a moment and she barely remembered how to walk.
In that moment her mind wound up to give her a few more things to stress about.
Why did she have to pick this moment? She was sweaty, gross and wearing totally unsexy underwear.
Brenden stopped outside a room one door down from the suite. He produced a keycard from his pocket and slid it into the slot then opened the door for her.
This was it. There was no going back once she stepped foot through there.
She took a breath and entered his room.
A lamp had been left on, casting the room with a soft glow. It was just a normal hotel room, if on the swanky side.
The door snicked shut.
She swallowed, hyper aware that this was where her big mouth had gotten her.
Brenden planted his hands on the wall, his arms caging her. She turned her he
ad and watched him bend just a bit and lean in. He still wasn’t touching her, but when he looked at her like that he didn’t have to.
Holy...
She’d never seen brown eyes so expressive. They were molten dark, telegraphing his hunger to her in ways clearer than words.
Priscilla leaned against the wall as her knees went a bit weak.
She couldn’t remember a man ever having looked at her with this much desire.
Brenden’s arms flexed and the distance between them shrank even more. He was still shirtless, wearing nothing except those gray athletic shorts and his underwear.
“Do you want dinner now or later?” His voice was lower, rougher.
Priscilla shivered and her stomach tensed up. Her mouth went dry and she couldn’t do anything except stare at him, hyper aware of how close their bodies were.
“Priscilla?”
“I’m hungry.” She lifted her hand to his shoulder. His skin was cool to the touch. It was the first time she’d actually touched him and he was every bit as hard as she’d imagined. “But not for food.”
His arms flexed, but he didn’t make a move to act. She flattened her other hand to his side, stroking his chest and abs. He had tan lines at his wrists, biceps and neck. It was also obvious he spent considerable time in the sun shirtless. His skin was an uneven golden color. He had quite a collection of scars, some small, others large, quite a few were jagged and painful looking even in their healed state.
She tipped her chin up and looked back at his face. His jaw flexed, and she became aware of his heavier breathing, as though he were holding back and that took great effort.
Was he waiting for her to make the first move? She had initiated this and there was something pleasing about this big man so focused on her and the idea that he wanted her badly.
She reached up and touched the scar on the cleft of his chin, tracing it with her fingers.
Priscilla straightened, bringing her face level to his, and leaned in. She slid her palm across his freshly shaven cheek. That must have happened during those hours between their rescue and now.
His nose dipped, bumping hers as their lips aligned. She could feel his breath on her skin. This close she could sense the tight control within him, how he held himself back.
This display didn’t fool Priscilla. Brenden was a man who preferred to be in control. And yet, he wasn’t incapable of giving it to her.
She rocked forward, closing the half inch between them and kissed his mouth. It was no gentle kiss, no. Brenden pressed against her, his tongue teasing her, deepening the kiss. Her breath stuttered in her lungs.
He wanted her.
Priscilla had assumed attraction, after all he’d said as much in the gym, but she could feel it now and it blew her mind.
Here was a man she didn’t have to coddle, who could take what he wanted and didn’t.
She’d hit the mother fucking jackpot.
Brenden’s hands came off the wall, and he gripped her by the waist, lifting her until they were face to face. She wrapped her legs and arms around him, moaning her approval. He pinned her between him and the wall, his hands stroking her sides and ass all while his mouth made love to hers.
She dug her fingers into his short hair. It was barely long enough to hold on to. She tightened her grip, of a mind to not let him go until she’d wrung every last drop of pleasure to be had from him.
He gripped her shirt and tugged. Her nipples tightened in anticipation.
She let go of his hair long enough for him to strip her of the garment. The sports bra was another matter. It came from her personal luggage that had been waiting for her on her arrival.
“How does this come off?” Brenden’s voice was a growl.
Priscilla chuckled. “Not easily.”
“I’ll cut it off.”
“What?” She laughed, the statement so unexpected and absurd.
At least until she blinked, and he was holding a sizeable knife.
“Where was that?” she asked, eyeing the blade.
“Dresser. Chin up.”
“I can take it off, you know?” She tipped her chin up and held tight to his arms.
Okay, so a little part of her was turned on by the idea of being cut out of her clothes. Who did that? Apparently he did.
Brenden hooked his finger under the band.
“Hold very, very still,” he said.
She tilted her head and peered down.
Using the very tip, and inches away from her skin, he sawed through the thick elastic band in a single swipe. She gasped as the elastic snapped her ribs and the fabric ripped farther.
“Did you really just do that?” She laughed and stroked her hands down his chest.
The alpha male display was utterly ridiculous. Any other time she knew she’d roll her eyes at the idea of a man cutting her very expensive sports bra off her, and yet right now she’d do it all over again.
Brenden set the knife down on the dresser then gripped the new ends of her bra in both hands. With one tug he ripped the fabric clean up to the reinforced upper hem. She shivered at the first caress of the cool air on her bare breasts.
“God damn it,” he muttered.
Priscilla hooked her arm around his neck then grabbed the strap on one side. Levering her back off the wall she did them both a favor and pulled what was left of her ruined bra up and over her head. She dropped it on the ground and grinned at Brenden.
He palmed her breasts, warming her skin with his touch, and kissed her. She arched her back, hungry for more. He nipped her lower lip, startling her. But she liked it. She liked everything about him.
His thumbs swiped across her nipples. Her hyper sensitive flesh sent pleasure warnings to her pussy and her mind momentarily lost all conscious thought. The only thing that registered were the words, yes, more and please.
Brenden shifted and bent his head to her neck. She closed her eyes, drinking in the sensations. His smooth chin, his calloused fingers and the feel of his dick pressed against her center. She rolled her hips, grinding their sexes together, but it wasn’t enough.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” she managed to get out.
“So are you,” he said against her throat.
“Are you going to cut those off me, too?”
He lifted his head and peered down at her. She knew he was considering it.
She chuckled and covered his hands on her breasts with her own.
When was the last time a guy looked at her like this? When it was a purely physical attraction?
It felt as if she’d been waiting for this moment for years. Brenden wasn’t someone she knew from the gym. They weren’t in competition. There was no office connection. This was pure lust, and that was liberating.
If he wanted to slice n’ dice her clothes, she didn’t care if that was his thing. It was kind of hot.
“That would take too long,” he said after a moment. “This is faster.”
He slid his hands from her breasts to her hips and stepped away from the wall. She lowered her feet, just a bit unsteady. At least she had him there to hold on to.
Brenden gripped the waistband of her yoga pants and looked down at her. Stared was more like it.
God, she wanted him. Just that feeling, the yearning, was a sensation she’d nearly forgotten. There was no guilt, no hesitation, just desire.
“Fuck.” He squeezed his eyes shut and fisted the knit material at her hips.
“What? That didn’t sound good.”
“I don’t have protection. A condom. Fuck. We can’t...”
Priscilla snorted a laugh. It wasn’t a ladylike sound, and she didn’t care. She flattened her hands against him and leaned in until her breasts were pressed to his chest. His warmth soaked into her.
She really had assumed he knew. His ability to do a full-stop was commendable, even if unnecessary.
“You mean to tell me in all the digging you did, you don’t know I’m allergic to latex? What’s up with that?” She n
uzzled his cheek, unable to contain her grin.
“You—what?” He lifted his head and looked at her, those dark brown eyes of his burning molten hot.
“I’m allergic to latex. Makes things really uncomfortable for me.” She took his hand and lifted it to her bicep. “Feel that little bump? That’s my birth control implant.”
He slid his palm up and down her arm, staring at the spot.
“Anything I should know?” she asked. Babies weren’t the only thing she didn’t want to catch right now.
“No. I mean, are you sure?” He still held onto her pants, though now the hold seemed more like a lifeline for him.
“Am I sure I want to know about your sexual health? Or am I sure I want you enough to ask?” She slid her arms up and around his neck.
“I don’t have anything,” he said looking back into her eyes. “Are you sure about this?”
“Oh, yes. I’m sure. Are you?” She licked her lips and briefly considered telling him, but the truth was she didn’t want to get sidetracked thinking about lesser men when a prime example of the best the gender had to offer was looking at her right now.
Brenden continued staring down at her, searching her face.
For what?
She had no idea, but his moment of inaction was her opportunity.
Those gray shorts had been teasing her all night long. She hooked her thumbs in his underwear and shorts, easing them down a bit. She felt his erection against her stomach, but couldn’t look away from his eyes to appreciate him. Instead she explored his length with her hands, stroking the smooth flesh. His cheeks sunk in and his gaze seemed to grow sharper, totally focused on her.
Had he heard her question? Or was he struggling with an answer?
Based on the way he was looking at her she was willing to bet he hadn’t even heard her.
Priscilla stopped stroking him, but didn’t let go of his cock.
“If you aren’t sure, it won’t hurt my feelings.” Okay, she was lying a little bit.
“What?” He blinked.
She chuckled. “I asked if you were sure, but I’m guessing you didn’t hear me?”
“No.”
“What were you thinking about?”
He was utterly and completely serious when he spoke. “How good you’re going to feel and not coming too fast.”
Dangerously Broken (Aegis Group Lepta Team Book 4) Page 7
