Swift Strike (SEAL Team 14 Book 2) (10 page)

“Forget about it. Really, it’s fine. It’s in the past,” she said with a weak smile plastered on her face. The kind of smile that telegraphed exactly how “fine” things weren’t between the two of them. It was a smile that showed that her contempt for him was not some long-forgotten vestige of the past, but instead, a palpable part of the here and now.

“I’ve moved on and so have you,” she continued.

He cleared his throat. “So uh, you heard about Stacey and me?”

“I didn’t know her name. But yes, I heard that you were seeing someone.”

“I’m not. Not anymore. I broke up with her a couple of weeks back.”

This new revelation seemed to get her attention, her eyes jerked immediately to his face. Then she diverted her gaze, her eyes quickly darting away from him to look off into the darkened parking lot then back down at the table before finally returning to settle on his unwavering stare.

“And you’re telling me this why?”

“I thought that—I thought that maybe you’d want to know.”

“I don’t.”

“Are you seeing anybody?”

Snapping her head up, her fierce eyes practically spit out fire. “I really don’t see how that’s any of your business, Will.”

“It’s not...it’s not. Shit.” Frustrated, he ran a hand through his hair. He would give anything to start over again with this woman. And it wasn’t just lust, either. Sure, he got hard as a rock damn near every time he thought about her. Every time he thought about how silky smooth her skin was, how kissable her pillowy lips were. But he liked her personality too. Underneath all those seemingly impenetrable layers of hostility, there was a softie who genuinely cared about other people. Hell, she cared so much that she was becoming a surgeon.

As a man who always knew what to say, what to do, he was just starting to realize how completely out of his element he felt whenever he was around this woman. She was not going to make it easy for him. She was not going to give an inch.

“I see you haven’t cleaned up your language since the last time we saw each other,” she commented, not even the hint of a smile crossed her face. “Do me a favor and broaden your vocabulary a bit.”

“Yeah, well, you know what they say. Bad habits are hard to break. Look, Liv,” he said, pressing on and ignoring her sarcasm, “you said that what we had is in the past. But it’s not
that
far in the past.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“You lied to me,” she said, anger adding vibrant bursts of color to her cheeks. “I’m pretty positive that that fact alone puts whatever we may have had squarely in the rearview mirror.”

“I didn’t lie to you,” he said. Will tried to choose his next words carefully, but faltered anyway. “I had sex with someone else when I got back to the States. But I never lied to you.”

“What would you call promising to contact me when you finished your mission and instead arriving home and not contacting me for weeks, Will? An oversight? Meanwhile, I’m thinking that you’re still out risking life and limb in some war zone, while in actuality you’re out having sex with some groupie.” Even though Will wasn’t in any type of band, SEALs were notoriously tracked by some women. Colloquially, they called these women “groupies,” who wanted bragging rights that they’d snared a SEAL.

“I was a dick, okay? I admit it. But shit, Liv. It’s not like we were in a relationship at the time.”

“That makes it okay, then.”

“No, but it’s sure as hell not the capital offense that you seem to think it is.” Olivia looked like she was ready to either walk out or punch him in the face.

Shit, this was not going well at all. Shaking his head, he tried to find the words that wouldn’t make him seem like a callous dirtbag. “What I’m trying to say is, I would like to start over. Maybe we could try to rebuild our friendship.”

“Friendship?” she scoffed. “Will, we didn’t have anything of importance, let alone a friendship. We shared a couple of drinks and a pheromone-induced make out session. And then you moved on to someone else. Someone with presumably more enticing pheromones. If you would be honest with yourself, you’d recognize that what we shared was a little less than a fling. And let me be clear to you, I do not consider you a friend.”

Ouch. They hadn’t shared anything of importance? She didn’t consider him a friend? Well,
golly gee willikers
, that was good to know. Just when he thought the knife she wielded couldn’t cut any deeper, she twisted the blade.

“So what, you don’t believe in giving people second chances?”

The look she gave him then, if looks could kill, would have buried him deep under six feet of female fury.

“Second chances just enable people to screw up for a third time.” Each word seemed to be punctuated with equal portions of poison and spite.

Shaking his head, he allowed a rueful laugh to escape his mouth. “Well, shit, Liv. That’s a really jaded way to look at things.”

“It’s not called being jaded, Will. It’s called learning from one’s mistakes. And I’m a very fast learner.”

How was he supposed to respond to that? The fact that she didn’t even consider him a friend stung. And the knowledge that she thought that the brief time they’d spent together was a mistake—something that she probably wanted wiped permanently from her frontal lobe—stung even more.

“Liv—” he started.

“Look. It’s
getting late,” she said, cutting him off before he could get whatever he was about to say out. A flicker of regret crossed her eyes for just a transitory moment. But no, he must have been imagining things because the frosty tones that she addressed him in did not indicate that she regretted any of the caustic combination of words falling from her mouth. “I should be getting back to the base.”

“Olivia…if what we shared was nothing more than a fling, then why are you so fucking upset?”

She didn’t answer him, just looked away. The faint sounds of the music and laughter from the bar filtered in over the drumming sound in Will’s head.

“You know, I would go back and change things if it were in my power to do so,” he said, his voice low and strained. “I really would. I know that I messed things up, and I know that you hate me right now, but there has to be a way to get past it.”

He had screwed up enough times with women that he could admit when he was in the wrong. In fact, one could say that pissing off the opposite sex was one of his specialties. But the thing was, he could usually just smile and use his charm to smooth things over. He’d never ever had to work all that hard to be forgiven. Actually, he’d never even cared that much about whether he was forgiven or not. Until now.

And yeah, he could admit that he’d been something of an asshole to Olivia. Of course, he could try and rationalize that because they hadn’t been in an official relationship he had carte blanche to do whatever he wanted to do. But deep down inside, he’d known that Olivia expected more from him than what he’d given. She had expected him to be a better man.

But regardless of how pissed off she was at him, she couldn’t possibly deny the intense connection between the two of them, right? She couldn’t possibly have forgotten the scorching heat that’d singed them every time they had kissed and touched. He sure as hell couldn’t forget.

He couldn’t forget, no matter how hard he tried—and tried he did—the totally primal look of unadulterated pleasure that had crossed her face when she’d writhed on his lap. Couldn’t forget the breathy, whispery way she said his name whenever he touched her in just the right place. Couldn’t forget how much kissing her had felt like finding his own little secret piece of heaven.

“Will, I don’t hate you,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean that I want to spend any more time with you either.” After a long pause, she continued. “I hope that you find whatever it is that you are looking for. But as far as I’m concerned, we don’t have anything else to talk about.”

She stood up then, dismissing him. Snatching her purse from off the back of the chair where she had placed it when they first sat down, she turned to walk away from him again. “Goodbye.”

“Damn it, wait a minute!” He reached for her then, his chair clanking loudly to the ground as it tipped over in his haste. Grabbing her arm, he spun her around, preventing her from taking another step.

“Get your hands off me.” There was a heat to her voice that didn’t have anything to do with the sort of raw magnetism she may have once felt for him. He loosened his grip to make sure that he wasn’t hurting her, but still clung firmly to her arm.

“Olivia, I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

“That’s all fine and good, Will.” Her voice returned to the calm, calculated tone she’d affected throughout most of their conversation. “You’re sorry, that’s wonderful. What do you want me to say? All is forgiven. Now come over here sexy, rip my clothes off, bend me over and screw me? Forget it, not happening. You and I together is never going to happen. I don’t want to be with you anymore. Get that through your skull,” she finished, trying to tug her arm away from his grasp.

“You don’t want me anymore,” he parroted back at her, slowly enunciating each word. “So you don’t want this either then?” he asked milliseconds before he tilted her head to face him, and not bothering to ask her permission first, bent down to claim her lips with his own.

Will wasn’t gentle this time around. The first time he’d kissed her in Germany, he’d taken slow, gentle, and lingering nibbles at her delicate flesh. Taken infinite care to keep his deepest and darkest impulses in check. But now, slow and gentle were the farthest thoughts from his mind. He wanted Olivia. He wanted her hard and fast. And right the hell now.

With one hand wrapped into her long golden-brown tresses and one hand squarely cupping her ass, he pulled her closer to him. She fit so perfectly against him that he couldn’t help but let out a low groan. His lips moved over hers relentlessly as he entered her mouth with his tongue. God, she still tasted like strawberries.

It had been too long since he’d kissed her, held her. Every single inch of her was some sort of a divine revelation. And even though he was quite possibly drowning, he would rather die first than come up for air.

Balling her hands up into small fists, Olivia pushed against his chest. But he only held her tighter. His lips never ceased their demands from her, his tongue delved even deeper inside of her mouth and he had to stifle a groan.

Will hoped that he hadn’t been wrong. He hoped that she had in fact been lying when she told him that she didn’t want him, would never want him again. But after a few seconds of her trying to pull away, he feared that
he
was the one who was mistaken. That somehow he’d gravely miscalculated, and now she would definitely never want to see his face again. Just when he was about to let her go, apologize, and bow out, she responded.

Respond was actually too mild of a word for it. She exploded against him with all of the energy of a live wire touching water. One minute she was shoving away from him, and then the next she was kissing him back with as much ferocity and longing as he had kissed her.

Pressing her body against his, she uncurled her fists to rake her hands through his hair as she met each hungry thrust of his tongue against hers. Their tongues mated eagerly, each savoring the other. And then, she pressed even closer still, her lower body rubbing insistently against his dick. She let out an incredibly sexy, breathy moan and he knew that she was his. Would always be his.

“Fuck yeah, baby,” he growled against her lips. It was a deeply feral growl, which although raw, didn’t even begin to come close to expressing how much he wanted this woman. His hand clutched her ass as he hauled her closer. Finally relinquishing her mouth, he began to trail kisses against the side of her neck.

Olivia’s eyes were closed and perspiration dampened her brow. Her slender hands shakily clasped his broad shoulders, her breathing coming in ragged, staccato pants of air. She was ready for him, there was no doubt in Will’s mind about that. And he was beginning to think that he was born ready for her.

He so very much wanted to strip her down right then and there and put a smile on that beautiful face of hers. The type of smile that only arose when one was completely sated. He wanted to give her the best screwing she’d ever had in her life. He wanted to make her come until she begged him to stop.

Reaching his hand underneath the waistband of her jeans, he squeezed her smooth, tight ass—flesh against flesh. She gasped at the contact, never opening her eyes as she continued to wriggle against his erection. And oh man, the sexy way that she was moving against him had him about ready to combust. It had been too long since he’d been with this woman like this. He nearly lost it right then and there, right through his jeans like he was some horny teenager again. Shit.

Blam
!

At the sound of the crash, they both instantly jerked away from one another. Will shoved her behind his body as he simultaneously reached for his gun. The glass window of the patio door cracked, the sound of shattered glass reverberated loudly as two men barreled against the door. Inside, patrons ran to and fro as some of the other men who were observing the quarrel now tried to break up the fistfight. Just two men with a little too much alcohol in their system and too little commonsense using their fists to talk things out. False alarm.