SEAL'd Perfection The Complete Collection: A Navy SEAL Romance (7 page)

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Authors: KB Winters

Tags: #Navy seal romance, #military romance series, #possessive alpha male, #Alpha SEAL Romance, #new adult romance with sex, #Alpha Navy SEAL, #Tattoos and bad boys

BOOK: SEAL'd Perfection The Complete Collection: A Navy SEAL Romance
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He held out his hand to me, and I slipped mine into his, letting his touch light me up as he led me around the table.

Chapter Eight — Jace

The touch of Kat’s skin on mine set me on fire. It had been risky, asking her to dance certainly blurred the line between dinner and date, and when she’d answered by putting her hand in mine, it crossed the line completely.

I led her away from our table, and made our own dance floor on the opposite end of the balcony. It was small, and the table took up most of it, but there was just enough room to allow us to break loose. The band reached the chorus, and the cheers of the people down below mixed with the music—charged the air with even more energy. Kat stilled for a moment, staring at me, her shy facade back in place. I knew she knew how to dance, I could tell just by looking at her. When I’d first met her, I wasn’t sure what to think. She certainly had the appearance of a tame, house cat, quietly considering everyone around her but keeping her distance—but over the past week, I’d been figuring her out little by little, and when she’d listed off her favorite bands, I knew I’d hit the jackpot. Somewhere, deep down inside her, there was a wild cat waiting to be let loose.

Which is exactly the reason I’d brought her to Damon and Gigi’s bar.

“Come on, show me your moves,” I teased, smiling at her and reluctantly letting her hand loose.

A slow smile spread over her beautiful face. “You first, wild man!”

“Aha, you’re worried you won’t be able to keep up with me, huh?” I threw back.

She laughed and gave me a playful shove. She turned away, staring at the band and the people down below, and just when I thought she was going to chicken out on me, she started shaking her hips in time with the music. My eyes were glued to her ass, mesmerized by her every move, as she let herself get lost in the music. She swiveled her hips, and ran her hands up her sides, grazing the sides of her breasts, before running her fingers up her neck and into her wavy locks, flinging them back as she spun around to face me. “I think the question should be…whether or not
you
can keep up with
me
!”

I grinned, silently accepting her challenge, and grabbed her by the hips, pulling her close to me. She gasped, but somewhere in the middle, it dissolved into a nervous giggle as I ground my hips with hers, the beat of the music pulsing our bodies together.
God, she’s heaven.
I nearly groaned out loud when she looked up into my eyes and licked her lips. It was a quick flick of her tongue, not meant to seduce me, but it didn’t matter. My body responded and I pressed her in closer, not caring if she felt how much I wanted her.

If Kat noticed, she didn’t back away. We danced together, each grooving on our own, inches apart, with our eyes locked. The band kicked it up and Kat raised her hands above her head, feeling the heightened beat. I reached for her, running my hands down her sides, before gripping onto her hips and pulling her back against me. The music swelled to a crescendo, ready to crash, and Kat ground against me, her hips pressed against me, and the look in her eyes told me she knew exactly what she was doing. The song stopped and we both backed away, turning to look over the balcony, and let out loud cheers with the rest of the crowd below.

Kat left my side long enough to retrieve her partial glass of beer. She polished it off with a hungry gulp. “Let me go get some fresh ones,” I said, taking the glass from her. “Are you hungry? I invited you out to dinner and all you’ve had is fries,” I commented, staring at the half eaten basket of fries, kicking myself for not asking her sooner.

She shook her head. “I’m good. Another beer and I’ll be just fine.”

“You got it!” I smiled and went back downstairs to the bar and got her a new beer, and a pitcher of water. In recent years, I’d learned my limits, and rarely had more than a single drink. I was having a good time and didn’t need ghosts from the past to come and wreck it all. I loaded everything on a tray and took it back upstairs. I stopped in the doorway of the balcony, taking in Kat’s figure as she leaned forward, her elbows propped on the railing.

It was dark outside, but the stage was lit with huge flood lights that cast a glow over the crowd down below. The next song had started, it was a slower tempo than the ones before it and I took advantage, setting down the tray, and went to Kat. She didn’t say a word as I gathered her into my arms and began a new dance, swaying her slowly with the rhythm of the music. As we danced, she got close enough that there was barely an inch between her forehead and my lips as she rested her head on my shoulder. I wanted her, I had since the day we’d first met, but I hadn’t quite figured her out yet—which meant I had no way of knowing where she’d draw the line. I could wait for a kiss…hell, that was
easy
—I’d been waiting most of my adult life.

When the song closed out, the band rambled out their thanks into the mic, getting a loud cheer from the crowd. I held onto Kat’s arms, as she took half a step away from me. We remained frozen for a minute, suspended in time. Her large, green eyes shone in the soft lights as they searched out mine. “Penny for your thoughts,” I said softly.

Her eyes dropped to the floor for a moment before bouncing back to mine. “I was actually thinking about how different you are.”

I cocked a brow at her, not sure how to take her words.

“No, no, not in a bad way,” she said, stifling a giggle. “Different in a good way. I hate to say it, but I kinda gave in to the gossip about you and had some preconceived notions I guess, like that you were this big party animal, or something. But, you’re not like that.”

I cut a glance over at the doorway. “Not anymore at least, but that’s a story for another time. Tonight is just about having fun. Are you having fun?” I asked, meeting her eyes again, ignoring the question shadowing them, no doubt prompted by my semi-cryptic response.

“Yeah! This is awesome. You were right about the band,” Kat said, smiling so hard it erased the worry from between her brows.

“Then, that’s all that matters.”

There was a slight break as one band exited and another one set up, and Kat went to the table and took her beer. We talked a little more, munching on the cold fries, the conversation light and easy, until the new band started and Kat surprised me by jumping up and grabbing my hand to continue dancing, kicking the night back on.

I had no idea how much time had passed, but by the time we called it a night, saying goodbye to Damon and Gigi on the way out, my bike was nearly the only one left in the lot. I reached back and grabbed Kat around the waist, letting my fingers smooth over the sliver of skin between the hem of her sweater and the waist of her low rise jeans. She shivered at my touch and my mind and heart shifted into a whole new gear. I stopped by the bike, picked up her helmet, and turned to her, giving her my best smile. “What say we go back to my place? I need a professional opinion about this couch I bought, and I figure, you being a designer…” I let my question trail off, letting her fill in the blanks however she wanted.

“A
couch
consultation?” She said, her skepticism bleeding through, even though she was still smiling at me.

“All right, ya caught me. I might have a question about a couple potted plants, too.”

She laughed and rolled her eyes. I smiled and added, “Listen, Kat, in all seriousness, I’ve had a lot of fun tonight and I don’t want it to end just yet.”

She chewed at her bottom lip, as though carefully weighing a big decision, before brightening and saying, “Okay, but
only
to answer your burning design questions.”

I flashed a devil-may-care smile her way and handed her the spare helmet.

Chapter Nine — Kat

The ride back into town was a completely different experience than the ride to the bar. Despite our teasing back and forth before we got back on the bike, I knew we were going back to Jace’s for more than just a conversation about the pros and cons of different layout patterns for his shop.

As we rode, I let my mind run wild with impending possibilities—there was nothing to rein in my thoughts as we sped through the dark. And if I thought I’d been aware of every inch of Jace on the first ride…well…it was
nothing
compared to the heightened sensation on the way back. The close dancing had sent us plunging over the edge of an innocent dinner between two—maybe someday—friends. Flashes of heat burned through me as I replayed every moment, every touch of his hands, and the way our bodies moved together. By the time I saw the milepost for our small town, I’d had over an hour to think, anticipate…and fantasize, all the while, with my arms wrapped around his tight waist, my fingers pressing into the soft leather of his jacket, knowing that as good as the jacket looked on him, it would certainly look even better on his bedroom floor.

God…I couldn’t even
remember
the last time I’d been with a man. It had been so long. During the divorce and custody battle, my body had shut down that side of me. I figured it was some type of protective instinct, knowing I didn’t have the time, energy, or mindset. And most of my friends encouraged me to throw myself into the arms of some random bar guy for a night of sinful pleasure. They’d said it would help me relax. Who knows? Maybe they’d been right, but at the time, I’d been such a mess I wasn’t sure what guy in his right mind would even
want
me—even if it was only for a night. With my fragile state of mind, it wouldn’t have been too farfetched to imagine myself trying to flirt and ending up sobbing into my martini glass—because I missed my baby and was scared to death that Mitch’s lawyers would find a way to steal him away from me for good.

But now…I considered Jace’s broad shoulders as we rounded the corner that would lead us to his shop…
everything
was different. I had a custody agreement, and although Mitch’s threats still got to me, I assured myself it was all scare tactics to keep me under his thumb, and maybe Hilda was right. Maybe it
was
time to move on with my own life. Jax was happy and thriving, and if I was careful and didn’t rush into anything, I could find a way to balance the two sides of myself, couldn’t I? A single mom could still be single
and
a mother. Couldn’t she?

Jace parked the bike and all my questions were silenced as he cut the engine, the street so quiet you could hear the leaves blowing across the road with the gentle night breeze. Jace hopped off, his motion fluid and cat like, and then I climbed off, not nearly as gracefully. I took off the helmet and set it on the seat next to where he’d set his. We stared at each other, our faces masked with shadows from the street light halfway down the block. “You ready for your tour?” Jace asked, walking me to the door, his key set jangling as he unlocked three different locks.

“Is this a tattoo shop, or Fort Knox?” I teased, leaning against the wall as he worked the last lock free.

Jace laughed softly. “I know, its a little overkill, but I had a break-in once and ever since, I don’t take any chances. Believe it or not, there’s about half a million dollars of equipment in this shop.” My mouth dropped open and he laughed louder. “What can I say? I require the best of everything.” Something about his tone and expression lent double meaning to his statement and I was rendered speechless. He held my gaze for a long moment, searching my eyes with a new level of intensity that made me feel raw and exposed.

“So, about that couch…” I finally whispered, dropping my eyes from his stare.

“Right.” Jace’s voice held an edge of disappointment. He pushed the door open and let me go inside, flicking the light switch as soon as I stepped into the shop. I’d seen the furniture and equipment being moved in at the beginning of the month, but seeing it all arranged was a new experience. I’d never been in a tattoo shop before, but the room in front of me was nothing like what I’d imagined.

With the lights on, it was clean and spacious, the walls painted a rich plum color that gave the whole room an expensive feel. The setup was sectioned off into three different areas—a lobby with fancy leather furniture and an exquisite rug that gave the space a rich, Gothic feel. There was a metal desk that seemed set to serve as an office, with a sleek computer perched on top and a few knickknacks, and then the other half of the room was very clearly where the magic happened. A huge bookshelf loaded with black binders, which I assumed held designs and sketches, maybe even portfolio pieces, was perched against the wall. A large table that looked like a massage table—but covered in black leather that matched the other furniture—was on one side of the room, set next to plush leather rolling chair. The far wall had a large counter with a sink, and an array of strange looking tools, and a tall cabinet that’s contents were concealed with a large frosted glass door.

“I don’t know what you needed my help for. This place looks great,” I said, pivoting on my heel to face Jace.

“Well thank you, but this isn’t what I needed help with,” he said. “I was actually talking about the upstairs, in my apartment. This was all done by a designer back when I had my shop in Chicago, I just replicated and downsized when I moved in here. However, my apartment, I assure you, needs a lot of assistance.”

I laughed and followed him across the room to a narrow staircase. We went up to a landing area that was painted, but had no other design elements. To the right, was a large metal door that looked like something from a restaurant meat locker, not an apartment. I made a mental note to start shopping for doors. Jace unlocked the deadbolt, slid the door open, and beckoned me inside. We entered into what was apparently the living room, but at the moment, it was more like a collection room at a thrift shop, boxes and boxes of stuff were scattered everywhere. Most of them were still taped shut, but the ones that were already open looked to be filled with pillows, books, small sculptures, and a few art prints in plain black frames.

The couch in question was rough looking at best, a brown sectional that had definitely seen better days. It was the only piece of furniture in the room, save for a larger than life flat screen TV hung over the small fireplace that didn’t have anything but dust inside.

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