He stepped forward, fully aware that he’d gone from zero to ready for action since she walked into his room. His hard-on pressed uncomfortably against his jeans, begging him to follow her lead and lose the clothes. “Chrissie—”
“Tonight, I want you to want me, not the kinky setup.” She released the button on her jeans.
Two steps and he closed the space between them. He grabbed her hands and held tight to her wrists.
“While we’re being honest,” he began as her gaze lifted to meet his. “I didn’t toss aside my plan to steer clear of meaningless rebound flings because I can’t resist a French maid costume. I didn’t say yes to bedding my boss, the woman signing my paychecks, because you showed up at my door looking like a male fantasy. I couldn’t resist you.”
“You don’t care what I wear?” she asked.
“The disguises were just icing on the cake, honey. I don’t give a damn about them. Not as long as I get to help you out of your creative clothes.” He drew her pants down her legs and guided her out of them. Then he stood up and faced her.
“And you don’t need the pretense of a SEAL training session?”
He laughed. “If a little PT, if the idea of physical training turned me on? I’d never hear the end of it from my teammates. And I probably wouldn’t have made it through Hell Week.”
She buried her fingers in the plain black shirt he’d worn for her show. He hadn’t bothered changing out of his blend-into-the-background bodyguard clothes.
“But.” He reached one hand behind him and drew his shirt over his head. “Maybe it’s time for you to give me a lesson.”
“You’d like to learn to sing?” She ran her hands down his bare chest to his abs. The muscles contracted beneath her touch. “Play the guitar?”
“No, I’m not a SEAL who secretly wishes he was a country star,” he murmured. He placed his hands on hers and guided them lower. “I want to know what turns you on. Tell me how you like to be touched.”
He wanted to turn the tables on their little BJ lesson from the other night. He’d never opened up to a lover before, and the end result had blown him away—literally. Now he wanted to do the same for her.
“I think you know by now,” she said. “Better than anyone.”
Oh hell yeah. He wouldn’t hide from the fact that he liked knowing he’d taken her places, to new heights of pleasure. Logic dictated that it was impossible, but still, he wanted her to be his for tonight, tomorrow, and the day after that.
“I want to learn more,” he insisted. He had to memorize every detail about her while he still had the chance. Active duty loomed in the future, calling to him, and he was ready to go. But hell, he was going to miss her.
“And you’ll do the same,” she said, her fingers toying with the closure of his jeans. “You’ll share, too? And tell me what you like?”
“I like it all, honey. As long as it’s with you. But—” He placed his hands on her hips and spun her around. He ran one hand up over her lace-trimmed panties to her back and gently pressed. “I want you to tell me if you want me here. Like this. Bent over the bed—”
“Yes,” she hissed, and her hands reached for the mattress’s edge.
The movement thrust her ass up in the air, and Dante couldn’t resist. He drew her panties down her legs, lowering himself to the floor in the process. “Step out of them,” he ordered.
She obeyed, lifting one slim leg and then the other until her underwear lay abandoned on the floor.
“Now, spread your legs,” he said. And when she didn’t move, he added, “Please.”
She heel-toed her feet farther apart, providing space for him to slide his broad shoulders between her legs. With his ass planted on the carpet, he let his abs do the work and hold him up as his fingers ran up her inner thighs. He brushed the curls at her center before venturing farther.
“Tell me what you want,” he said, his lips inches from her core.
“Lick me,” she whispered.
He ran his hands up to her ass and pressed his tongue to her clit. He licked and sucked and adjusted the pressure as she moaned a series of “harder,” “no not there, higher,” followed by “lower,” and then his favorite ”oh, Dante!”
She left out God and every other higher power. This was just a man loving his girl like crazy.
Loving.
The word echoed in his mind. And yeah, he was pretty damn sure he felt it in his heart as he slid one hand around and slipped a finger inside her. He’d been telling himself the truth when he’d said no more flings. He wasn’t here for a quick fuck or fantasy sex. And he’d been honest with her. He didn’t give a damn about the costumes.
Because he’d gone and fallen in love with the woman beneath the short skirts and ugly wigs. He’d fallen hard for America’s country sweetheart. For the woman who put her family first. For the brave performer who took the stage and dared to share her heart with the world.