Revealing Her SEAL (ASSIGNMENT: Caribbean Nights Book 4) (16 page)

“Like that?” he muttered against her flesh. “Me too.”

Without warning he hooked the hem of her dress and swept it off, lifting her up from the blanket as if she weighed nothing at all. The dress fell to the sand and her bare breasts peaked up under his hot-eyed gaze. He drew off her soaked underwear, almost reverently, then sat back and looked his fill, his expression so completely aroused that she almost squirmed.

“I can’t wear a bra with that dress,” she explained though why she’d felt compelled to defend her wardrobe choice was a mystery to her. As was her second reaction, which was to cover herself.

Why? She’d been begging him to get naked with her for a million years. It was finally happening. It was just that she’d always envisioned all the naked being on his side and hadn’t really thought much about her own state. Especially not when he was looking at her like that, with a thousand indescribable things darting around in his expression. Things that threatened to expose longings of her own that she had every intention of keeping inside.

“I could tell.” His voice had gone hoarse. “God above, Rachel. Is there any part of you that isn’t so beautiful that it hurts?”

Oh hell. Her heart hitched in a way it had no business hitching. Men didn’t say stuff like that to her. Of course she rarely let them talk about much of anything. She was more of an action girl. On purpose.

Since in the act of undressing her he’d released her wrists, it was time to take advantage of the freedom. She reached for him, only to be stymied once again as he laced his fingers with hers, easing her back down on the blanket.

“Rachel.” Her name on his lips shouldn’t be so raw. “Stop trying to control this.”

“I’m not,” she insisted as her pulse bobbled. “I just want to participate.”

“You want to dominate. Because you like being in control.” He pierced her with his dark gaze that had always seen far too much.

“What’s wrong with that? Some men like it,” she joked, and the rest of it died in her throat as he shook his head.

“That’s how you push away intimacy. By taking control. Be superficial with someone else, Rachel. Not with me.”

“I don’t—” She couldn’t finish that statement, and besides, he’d just call her on her B.S. the way he always did. Because he paid as much attention to her as she did to him. What did she do with that?

The burn in her throat felt an awful lot like unshed tears, and she swallowed against it, mortified that he’d already guessed how deeply that had cut.
No lies
. When she’d started that game, it had been designed solely as a mechanism to get him to admit he wanted her.

Not as a way for him to get to her secrets.

But what had she expected would happen? Ilhota Rosa was about truth. His
and
hers.

“You left your glasses at home,” he reminded her. “What was that but permission for me to look inside your soul and see that you need me to love you?”

Oh, my God
. What was he talking about? This was sex, nothing more. A way to connect, to take care of his needs. But as she blinked and blinked again, the emotion shining from his depths didn’t waver, didn’t fade. This was intimacy at its purest form, and if she wasn’t on board with that, now would be the time to speak up.

“Evan.” The word strangled in her numb throat. “
Yes
. Love me.”

The hole in her chest filled as he bent his head, claiming her mouth with his. Greedily she drank it in. She needed him too or she would never have come here.

It didn’t count in the real world. But for now she could revel in it, whatever this capitulation meant for both of them.

Urgently his mouth plundered hers, tongue tangling around hers without finesse but she didn’t care.
More
.

Trailing hot, wet kisses down her throat, he landed on her breast, teasing the nipple with his lips until he drew it inside, hard teeth scraping at the tip. She nearly screamed as white-hot heat forked through her core, burning with need only Evan could slake.

Blindly she shoved her fingers through his hair, intending to pull him up so she could align their hips, but he switched to the other breast instead, his mouth hotter, harder against her flesh. His unshaven jaw abraded her sensitive skin, enflaming her until she thought she’d climb out of her skin if he didn’t—

His finger found the wet heat between her legs, sliding through it, plunging inside until she gasped, tightening around him, his name on her lips. His body shifted downward, his mouth sliding to her stomach, and suddenly he was kneeling between her legs, watching her with those dark eyes as his tongue licked between her folds.

Her hips bucked, seeking that magic mouth, and he obliged, giving her the flat of his tongue as he worked his fingers against her slick walls. She couldn’t stop watching him watch her and God, that might be the hottest thing she’d ever experienced.

The orgasm caught her by surprise. She bowed up, shoving her wet center hard against his mouth, which he took in stride, nipping at her, drawing the wave out to epic proportions. Her bones ceased to exist, and her knees fell to the blanket, opening her up further to his scrutiny.

But what did it matter? He’d already burrowed into her very center before he’d started.

He gave her half a second to recover while he tore off his jeans, then resettled between her legs, his shaft hot and heavy against her thigh. He treated her to the musky taste of herself on his tongue as he swirled it through her mouth.

That heated her up all over again. His mouth, God, the things it had done. The things it would still do.

And then he paused, glancing around the blanket for… something.

“Got it covered,” she murmured and knocked her bag over in her haste to get his focus back on her. Her fingers closed around the box of condoms, then dragged it out, tapping it against his arm for emphasis.

A condom was the one thing Rachel was
never
without.

“You read my mind,” he said without a trace of irony.

There was something to be said for a man who could make her laugh between orgasms. But as she finally had Evan naked and within touching distance, the smile was short lived. The box fell to the blanket, forgotten, as she spread her fingers across his oh-so-deliciously hard chest.

He fingered a foil package into his mouth and tore it with his teeth, then hefted his body upward in an enormously sexy one-armed push-up designed to give him access to put on the condom. Her skin cooled instantly, and she wanted him back against her. Too long. Impatiently she rolled her hips, and he muttered for her to be still. And that’s when she realized he was shaking.

“Evan?” She took the condom from him and rolled it on herself, then cupped his jaw with both hands, forcing him to meet her gaze.

His dark eyes shuttered. She was losing him. A million angry bees swarmed through her stomach, beating against its walls. “What is it?”

“I’m… clumsy. Sorry,” he muttered. “I haven’t done this sober in a very long time.”

“Oh, honey.” While she’d been busy reveling in the sensations, and letting him be as dominant as he wished, she’d forgotten to pay attention to his nonverbal cues. “Come here.”

She gathered him up in her arms and was gratified when his arms slipped around her in kind. Side by side they held each other, his heart thundering against hers. She dragged one foot up his leg, hooking her knee over his hip. Opening herself up to him. His groin kissed hers, circling, seeking, but still he held back.

“Look at me,” she said softly. “See me. See how much I want you, how nothing matters in the world except you and me and right now.”

He nodded almost imperceptibly, his lids falling to half-mast as she tilted her hips, notching him expertly at her entrance. And then their gazes tangled, caught, held as he slid home, filling her so completely and so perfectly that one tear squeezed loose from her eye, falling to the blanket.

Sucking in a breath, he began to move, spiraling his hips as he drove her to the heavens, murmuring her name, but he never looked away, never closed his eyes. Never hid a single emotion from her, and she didn’t mistake this for anything other than what it was—making love.

Everything came together in one bright perfect spot, and still sensitized from earlier, she came again with a cry, but this time it was so powerful to do it with him inside her that her vision blacked out for a second.

He followed with a groan, tensing and then relaxing against her, still holding her tight.

That had been worth the price of admission. The only problem was that she didn’t quite know what it had cost her yet.

S
omehow, Evan had fooled himself into thinking that his “date” with Rachel would resolve the tension that had lately taken up permanent residence in their bungalow. He’d finally gotten his mouth on her, and it had far surpassed any shower fantasy he’d ever imagined.

But Ilhota Rosa wasn’t real life. He’d only given in to the allure of Rachel because of the promise they’d made to keep sex off the table at home. They’d go back to their corners, no harm, no foul, and no consequences.

Which was precisely what he needed. Evan fought his addiction on a daily basis, which often resulted in dark moods. He couldn’t handle a relationship, not right now. Not with Rachel, who’d opened some floodgates that should have stayed firmly shut. The distance deal should have been an easy thing to maintain.

It wasn’t.

Rachel seemed to be doing fine with it. She went into her room to sleep and came out looking as if she’d slept all night long. There were no bags under her eyes like the ones he saw in the mirror. Didn’t she stare at the ceiling and fantasize about stripping off every inch of clothing, then sneaking into his bed? Because that’s what he was thinking about. Every night.

But she had supreme control. Always. Rachel’s strength was one of her most attractive qualities. Except when it wasn’t.

Bleary-eyed, he went to work for the second day in a row without more than a couple of hours of sleep. Miles, Dex, Jace, and Evan had drawn coral reef duty, while Charlie and Jack handled an early snorkeling excursion to Ilhota Rosa. Rachel’s injunction had slowed Anderson’s bid for the island, and for the time being, Aqueous Adventures treated bookings like business as usual.

None of them thought that would last forever, and it weighed on them. Charlie the most. This company was his dream, and he’d carefully selected the team he’d brought along for the ride. But they all had a stake as part owners and obsessed accordingly.

“Well, well.” Dex took one look at Evan as he stepped onto the dive boat and crossed his arms, cocking a hip out. “Looks like someone is burning the midnight oil. Maybe you’ve taken up an interest in basket weaving? Or is there something a little more female keeping you up at night?”

The emphasis on the word “up” drew the attention of the other two guys in the process of suiting up for a day of scuba diving. Miles and Jace both swung around to scrutinize Evan’s face.

“Shut up,” Evan growled, wound too tight by all the stuff seething under his skin to care he was being surly. “Maybe you should take an interest in minding your own business.”

Miles bobbled his fins, the look on his face nearly comical, and Jace stood stock still in the middle of the boat, tank dangling from his hand, forgotten. They both stared at him as if he’d donned a balaclava and a black ammunition belt.

He scowled. “What?”

Could
everyone
tell he’d broken his yearlong sex drought? It would be just like them to get in a few rounds of endless ribbing because that’s what friends did when you got laid.

Problem was, he couldn’t repeat the experience, no matter how badly he wanted to. His addictive personality wasn’t a good mix for a relationship. And it was killing him to imagine how badly he’d ruin things with Rachel if he tried.

Besides, she would eventually leave. Right? There was no future between him and Rachel. None. It would be selfish to even contemplate that, especially when his track record for making a woman happy long-term was horrific.

“Don’t mind them,” Dex advised with a jerk of his head toward Miles and Jace. “They’re just mesmerized by the sound of your voice. You should sing to them or something. Really get them going.”

“What’s wrong with my voice?” Evan asked.

“The fact that you have one,” Miles shot back. “I can’t remember the last time I heard you contribute to the conversation. Your mystery lady must be something else.”

“There’s no mystery lady,” he muttered before thinking better of it.

He talked to the guys. All the time. They had selective memories obviously. It wasn’t as if Rachel had put some kind of sex spell on him that had magically turned him into a chatterbox.

“No,” Dex agreed. “There’s no mystery here whatsoever. Tell Rachel we said hi.”

Evan turned his back on all three of the idiots he worked with. They were seeing things that weren’t there. Things that couldn’t be there.

That was enough of a reason to keep his mouth closed for the rest of the day. Scuba diving as a whole took care of that for the most part, and as the day wore on, Evan’s mind wandered as he thought about what Rachel might make for dinner.