Touched By Midas (SEALs Going Hot Book 4) (10 page)

“Come back down and finish what you started.” Angie motioned to him with a curled finger.

He stepped out of his shorts and kneeled at her side. His cock, substantial and stiff, veered toward her as if to touch her. Atop its rounded tip, a pearl of pre-cum glistened in the silvery moonlight. The sight caused her to moan again.

She reached for his stomach, needing to feel the definition of his unbelievable abs. Yes, she had had sex with many good-looking men way back when, but none could compare with Midas. This was a man who defended her, his men, and the United States with his body and his wits. The way he cared for himself showed in every glorious way.

While she explored the light spray of curls on his chest, Midas did his own exploring. He glided his hands down her neck and onto her collarbone. From there, he advanced onto her chest, taking his time as he circled each breast, then squeezed the tips of her nipples.

His slow progress down to the band of her panties had her blood heating with anticipation. Every muscle in her body felt warm and pliant. Her pussy pulsed with a delicious ache. When he slipped a finger over her sensitive clit, another batch of stars appeared before her eyes. Her back involuntarily arched. How could Midas cause such a reaction in her? What chemistry between them could create such a liquid fire that burned deep in her belly?

A groan ripped from his mouth. He added another finger and slid the two between her folds. “I love how wet you get.” His cock bobbed as though offering its consent.

I love just about everything about you.

The words floated through her mind, but she dare not give voice to her thoughts. He was hers, but only for a few more days. And then…

Angie squeezed her eyes shut, blocking the unwanted piece of introspection. She took in a breath, as much to quiet her hammering heart as her mind, and focused on Midas’ touch.

Several minutes later, she felt him carefully pull her thong down her legs. She opened her eyes to watch him angle the panties over and around her feet.

He raked his gaze over her. His chest heaved as though breathing was an effort. He moved his mouth, but she couldn’t make out what he said. It sounded like a prayer.

After fishing a condom from his disregarded shorts, he rolled the sheath over his penis, then bent down for a sensual kiss that had the ends of her nerves zinging.

Midas positioned himself between her legs, taking a moment to brush the tip of his cock through her soaked folds and against her tingling clit. A thrill of sensation mixed with emotion quaked through her. She wanted him, Midas the man, Midas the protector, Midas the SEAL who had her heart singing, more than any other in her entire life.

She reached for him as he pressed the rounded head of his cock into her. The desire to hold him while they made love, joining their bodies as one, was too strong to resist. He lowered himself over her while his thick length slid home, and her hands curled around his neck, her fingers digging into his silky hair.

He stared into her face, appearing to seek answers to unspoken questions, as he slowly pushed and pulled his hard cock through her tight channel. If only she could read his mind. Did he care for her the same as she cared for him? Were his feelings as deep and sincere? Was she making much ado of nothing?

Soon the sensuous friction the handsome SEAL generated prevented any stray thoughts from keeping her in the here and now. He kissed her again. The touch of his lips against hers more tender than anything she’d ever known.

She needed more. All of him.

Angie lifted her legs and wrapped her calves around the narrow of the big man’s back, wishing she could melt into him. The new position provided a grind on her clit that nearly pushed her over the edge.

“No. Not yet,” she gasped more as a warning to herself than to Midas.

“Shh,” he soothed in her ear. Pressing his mouth on her neck, he added, “Let go, my angel. Come for me.”

The unrushed tempo of his hips continued to rub her throbbing mound. Each slow thrust of his hard cock seemed to pierce her soul. His rhythmic rocking, gentle kisses, and the longing in his eyes coaxed her mind and body a fraction closer to oblivion.

She gazed up at Midas, whose dark curls, wet with the efforts of their sex, clung to his temples and neck. Her chest filled with a powerful, all-consuming emotion. Her eyes become watery with the need to shed the excessive overflow of feelings.

“What’s the matter, baby?” he asked on a whisper.

Angie shook her head, too caught up in the tide of love for Midas to speak.

This touching moment had to end before she made a fool of herself and started crying. She was world-wise Raven Angelina Bussey, not some lovesick schoolgirl. Why was she getting so kerflunked?

She tilted her pelvis and made small circles with her hips. Her fingers raked over his scalp and then wound around his damp hair. With an effort, she clenched the walls of her pussy, gripping his cock, then added one final thrust.

Her body bucked as a mighty orgasm exploded deep within. At the same time, Midas’s head kicked back and he let out a shuddering roar.

Once the wave after wave of sensation ceased to roll through her, she braved a glance at the SEAL who continued to rock her world in ways she never imagined.

“Wow.” Midas smiled and drew in several long breaths.

“Wow.” The simple word captured so much. The temptation to add, “I love you,” was there, but she held it in. Why ruin this moment with an acknowledgement of feeling he might reject? Although she had experienced many things in her life with men—being used, lies, and the like—rejection was not one of them. She would not open herself up to that now.

He carefully removed himself, then pulled her close as he snuggled in beside her, wrapping his strong arms around her waist. Angie placed her head on his broad chest and searched the night sky for another falling star to cement her earlier wish.

Chapter Nine

All day Friday, Midas tried not to think about what Angie was doing and who she was with. He shouldn’t care. She wasn’t his and he wasn’t interested in anything serious, let alone steady with her. He’d be leaving Rota to go back to base in Virginia with the rest of the guys Monday anyway. He was not committed to her or any woman. His luck was intact.

But knowing she was with someone else ate down deep into his bone marrow.

He picked her up at seven-thirty as arranged and immediately noticed her happy glow. She smiled as though she’d spent the day at a circus or opening presents, which only irritated him more.

“Had a nice dinner?” he asked once they were both buckled in his Jeep.

“Oh yes. Very nice.”

“Great.” He glanced over his shoulder to check for traffic and briefly released a scowl he preferred she not see.

Though he smiled and made small talk about the weather and other unimportant things while they drove onto base and parked not far from the airplane hangar where the concert was being held, inside he silently stewed. Had she spent time with another man?

This wasn’t like him. If one of his team members acted his way, he’d personally kick the dumb son of a bitch in the ass. Maybe that’s what he needed. A swift kick in the backside.

A line had formed to enter the hangar and it stretched around the side of the building. By the time they found their seats, Amberjack and Ox were already in theirs waiting.

Ox offered Midas a knuckle bump. “Dude. You made it. I was beginning to worry. The concert is about to start.”

Midas tapped his fist against his buddy’s, then stood out of the way for Angie to be introduced.

“Ox, this is Angie Summers. She’s a teacher here on the base. Angie, this is Ox, one of the best sharp shooters in the Navy.”

“My pleasure,” she said, extending her hand. “Wow. You’re a big guy.”

“That’s why he got the name,” Amberjack interjected.

The tall SEAL shook Angie’s hand as well, then he patted Midas on the back.

“I have to give you credit, man,” Amberjack continued. “When Ox bet you couldn’t get the teacher lady here to the concert, I really didn’t think you stood a chance in hell. Looks like we’ll all be eating eggs and bacon and wearing saint medals on missions.”

Midas’ stomach hit the floor with a sickening
thud
.

He didn’t need to look at Angie to see that she’d heard what his dumbass friend had just announced. He felt the ice form on her skin.

“Yes, well, he
is
Midas after all. How could I possibly refuse?” she ground out while yanking her purse strap onto her shoulder.

With his free hand, Midas rubbed the back of his neck to keep himself from wringing Amberjack’s.

“You’re a good sport.” Ox nodded his big bald head and sat back down in his chair. “You deserve the surprise he’s got planned for you after the show.”

She cut her gaze to Midas. Anger prickled behind her gray eyes.

“I think I’ve had more than enough surprises for one night. I don’t think I could possibly take any more.”

“Oh, it’s a good one,” Ox added. “You’re not going to want to miss it.”

Just then the overhead lights dimmed and the hangar went dark. The whine of an electric guitar blared over the rumble of the crowd. Suddenly everyone was on their feet, clapping and chanting, “Bussey! Bussey! Bussey!”

Midas bent to whisper loudly in Angie’s ear.

“I can explain.”

“I’m sure you can.”

Even shouted over the music, he could hear the sarcasm lacing her voice.

His shoulders slumped. He was so screwed.

Stereo Arsenal took the stage and played a total of two hours. Those were, quite possibly, the longest two hours of Midas’ life. Far worse than baking in the desert sun with his eye glued to his gun’s sight waiting for bad guys to pop out from behind a dune. And although enduring the concert sucked donkey balls the size of watermelons, straightening things with Angie once the music ended seemed far, far worse.

When the band finished a second encore and exited the stage, the hangar lights filled the large building with bright light. The energized crowd began to find their way out the building in lines that meandered through the makeshift rows of metal folding chairs.

“Now that was one awesome show.” Ox stood and pumped a meaty fist into the air. “Bussey Stevens still has it, my brothas. And he’s as crazy as ever. I love that old guy.”

“Did you see Dara Summers on stage playing the tambourine?” Amberjack let out an appreciative whistle. “Bussey’s girlfriend might be in her late fifties, but she’s smokin’ hot.”

“Yeah, smokin’.” Despite an attempt to muster up some enthusiasm, Midas couldn’t. Not when a thoroughly unhappy looking Angie was making motions to leave.

“Hold on there, teacher lady.” Ox took Angie by the elbow. “Midas has something special planned for you now. I only wish I could come along myself.”

“That’s right. Tell her about it, Midas.” Amberjack nudged Midas’ arm.

Midas tugged at his collar and put on a smile he didn’t feel. Perhaps if he at least looked excited about his surprise, Angie might get excited too.

“I’ve got a friend working security detail for the band. He’s going to get us backstage to meet Bussey Stevens.”

Ox and Amberjack whooped their approval. Angie, on the other hand, only twisted her mouth and picked up her purse.

“I’m not interested in going backstage,” she replied briskly. “Thanks, but no.”

“Not interested?” Ox repeated. “Come on. It will be fun. Maybe you can get your picture taken with him.”

“Our buddy is pulling a lot of strings to do this. As far as I know, you two and a few officers are the only people who will be allowed back there.” Amberjack jerked a thumb toward the stage. “This is a big deal.”

“Please, Angie,” Midas pleaded. “I know you’re upset with me. But just do this one last thing. You won’t regret it. When will you get another the chance to meet a rock legend?”

“Let Midas take you to see Bussey. It will give him something to brag about to the guys back home,” Ox said.

“That and finally getting you to go out with him.” Amberjack hooked his thumbs through the belt loops in his jeans and rocked on his heels. “He’s been dying to do that since he met you.”

“Guys, would you shut up and get the hell out of here?” Midas made a shooing gesture with his hand. “You’re not helping.”

“All right. All right,” Ox muttered loudly as he and Amberjack headed toward the exit. “We can tell when we aren’t wanted.”

Finally free of the disaster twins, Midas grabbed Angie’s shoulders, intent on damage control before it was too late.

“Angie, listen. There’s a lot going on here that you don’t quite understand. If you’ll give me a few minutes after we meet Bussey, I’ll take you somewhere quiet and will explain everything.”

To his amazement, she didn’t try to flee or slap him in the face. Instead, she narrowed her eyes and gave him rather wicked grin cold enough to form icicles on antifreeze.

“I’d love to meet Bussey. Let’s go.”

An involuntary shiver ran up his spine. Her cool acquiescence weighed heavily in his gut. He was so fucked.

They left through the back entrance of the hangar where a small driveway met a shoot off from the main landing strip for the base. When they stepped foot outside the building, they were met by a pair of military police he recognized.

“Jimmy. Sondra,” Midas called out. “I’m looking for Tucker. Where can I find him?”

The two MPs directed him to a nearby office that had converted temporarily into a receiving room for the band.

As he and Angie neared the office, her pace quickened. Maybe she had a change of heart. Maybe she was starting to realize seeing Bussey Stevens, live and in person, really was a huge score.

Several people, including the band’s drummer and good old base camp buddy Charlie Tucker, stood outside the receiving room, smoking and talking.

“Tucker!”

The lanky MP looked away from the gathering and grinned.

“Midas. I’m glad you made it,” he called back. “Bussey and the band are leaving in about an hour to fly to Moròn Air Base for tomorrow night’s show. Go on in.”

Midas grabbed Angie’s hand, then squeezed when he opened the door. In one corner of the room near windows overlooking the runway was the rock-and-roll legend himself. Long black hair peppered with silver, and wearing his customary untucked black T-shirt hanging over black leather pants, and black western boots, Bussey cut a very distinct figure. Dara Summers, her blonde locks drapping her shoulders in waves, stood near her long-time boyfriend. The former British supermodel was even more gorgeous in person than print. They laughed at some unheard joke, then turned as Midas and Angie walked toward them.