Two days later, Cash breathed a sigh of relief as he slid into the passenger side of Ryan’s olive-green Jeep. It was Saturday morning. Jen was upstairs having breakfast with Annabelle, and Cash was officially allowed to relax for the next couple of hours. In fact, he couldn’t wait to put some much-needed distance between him and the evil temptress named Jennifer Scott.
The damn woman had been testing his limits for the past forty-eight hours. Parading around the apartment in next to nothing. Brushing up against him in the kitchen. Talking about sex nonstop. Christ, she’d even managed to make updating her resume look hot—leaning close to her laptop in a way that emphasized the sexy curve of her spine, biting her plush bottom lip as she studied the screen.
He’d been sporting an unceasing boner for two days now. Couldn’t even remember what it was like to not be hard as a rock. His daily workout hadn’t helped take the edge off. Neither had his daily—fine, twice daily—jack-off session in the shower. If anything, he was even more hard up, especially since Jen had taken to taunting him whenever he stepped out of the bathroom, innocently inquiring whether he’d enjoyed himself.
Any day now, he might actually kill her.
Or fuck her.
Discipline.
“Screw discipline,” he mumbled to himself.
“What was that?” Ryan asked as he steered across the Coronado Bay Bridge.
“Nothing,” Cash said. “Just thinking out loud.”
Ryan gave him a strange look. “Okay. Anyway, Jane wanted to know if you got her email.”
“The one about Becker-approved baby gifts for Sadie?”
“That’s the one,” Ryan said dryly. “And before you ask, yes, I wholeheartedly agree—Beck was abducted by aliens and replaced with a crazy pod version of himself.”
“Thank you. I didn’t want to be the one to say it, since I don’t know him as well as you guys do. I thought maybe he’s always like this and I just started picking up on it now.”
“He’s not always like this. Personally, I think Jane should divorce him.”
Cash snickered. Nobody could deny Lieutenant Commander Becker was overprotective when it came to his daughter. Not to mention obsessed. Cash had spent the entire trip back from Kabul listening to his CO drone on and on about Miss Sadie; what an advanced child she was, how she smiled at Beck more times than she smiled at Beck’s wife, Jane, how she preferred mashed carrots to applesauce. Cash knew a scary amount about that baby, far more than he wanted to, actually.
Since Miss Sadie was turning the big 1 next weekend, the presence of everyone on the team had been requested for the kid’s party. Cash had been worrying about what kind of present to buy, but fortunately the CO had come up with a list of suggestions—all of which had been thoroughly researched and undoubtedly tested for safety purposes. He’d even compiled a second list entitled “DON’T BUY.” Like Cash would ever give a one-year-old lead paint.
“Lead paint was actually on the DON’T BUY list,” Ryan said in disbelief. “Why would any of us buy that?”
He laughed. “I was just remembering that one. Hey, do you want to chip in and get the Baby Animal Planet books? I checked online and the box set is like a hundred bucks. I refuse to spend more than fifty dollars on a baby, so if you want to go halfsies…”
“Done,” Ryan said. He pulled into a parking space on the street running parallel to the beach. “I’ll tell Annabelle she can fend for herself.”
They hopped out of the Jeep and headed for the concrete steps leading down to the sand. They’d both worn swim trunks and cross-trainers, and the second their sneakers hit the sand, Cash peeled off his ratty Cardinals T-shirt and tucked the edge under the waistband of his shorts. Normally they trained closer to the base, but Dylan had insisted they go to the northern end of the island today, claiming a little eye candy made him more productive.
When Cash spotted Dylan and Seth doing push-ups on a stretch where the sand was more compact, it was clear that the guys were the ones providing the eye candy; ten yards away, four bikini-clad tourists were stretched out on fluffy beach towels, tongues hanging out as they ogled the two SEALs, whose bare backs glistened with sweat.
Those hungry eyes shifted to Cash and Ryan, both of whom winked at the ladies as they walked past.
“So things are going good with Jen?” Ryan asked, shrugging out of his T-shirt.
Trying to stay nonchalant, he slid his Aviators onto the bridge of his nose. “What do you mean?”
“Any problems from that stalker guy?”
“Oh. No. He sent her an email yesterday but she deleted it.”
“Why doesn’t she remove his address from her contact list?”
“She did, but he keeps creating those free accounts and she doesn’t know what to look for anymore. The spam folder usually catches them, but sometimes they wind up in her inbox.”
“This guy doesn’t give up, huh?” Ryan popped on his own shades, then rolled up his shirt and draped it around his neck.
As they strode toward the guys, Cash tried to maintain the casual front, but inside he was annoyed as hell. It bugged him that Jen wasn’t as troubled by the email as he was. Yeah, it’d been more whiny than threatening, but he still didn’t like it. Brendan’s obsession with Jen didn’t seem to be waning, only increasing. And the more Cash got to know her, the more determined he was to keep her safe.
When she wasn’t trying to seduce him with skimpy outfits and sexual innuendo, she was actually pretty incredible. Smart, funny, entertaining. She’d even cooked him dinner last night—and then, once they’d decided that her burnt lasagna might give them food poisoning, she’d bought him dinner, which had been nice. Not that he was the kind of man who liked mooching off women, but once in a while it felt nice not to be the one pulling out his wallet.
The thought of Psycho McGee coming after Jen made his gut burn. A part of him almost wished Brendan would make a move, just so Cash could have the pleasure of kicking the creep’s ass.
They reached Dylan and Seth, who hopped to their feet to exchange some heys and knuckle taps with the new arrivals. Jackson had yet to show, but that was no surprise. The Texan lived by his own clock and took his sweet-ass time in everything. Except on the field. There, Jackson epitomized efficiency. As the team medic, he got the job done with lightning speed and had saved all their asses countless times.
“FYI,” Dylan told them as he wiped his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand, “I bought the CO’s kid those educational building blocks that were on the list, so don’t double purchase.”
“What the fuck are educational building blocks?” Ryan asked.
“Wooden blocks with words on them.”
Ryan looked mystified. “What kind of words?”
Dylan shrugged. “You know, like mom, dad, dog, bunny.” He rolled his eyes. “That way Miss Sadie can increase her vocabulary while she’s playing.”
“Pod person,” Ryan muttered under his breath.
Cash’s laugh died in his throat when he noticed Seth eyeing him. “What?” he demanded.
“I hear you have a hot new roomie,” Seth mocked.
“Yeah. It’s your mom,” he answered sweetly. “I can’t wait to fuck her.”
Ryan grinned.
Dylan chuckled.
“Screw you,” Seth retorted. But he didn’t seem put off by the jab.
Seth was used to the mom jokes. Hell, he had to expect it, seeing as his mother, Missy, was a bona fide Las Vegas showgirl. Seth, the lucky bastard, had pretty much been raised in a dressing room filled to the gills with half-dressed women. The dude lost his virginity at the age of twelve, for fuck’s sake.
“How hot is the LT’s sister, exactly?” Seth inquired, running his hand over the dark stubble coating his jaw.
Cash didn’t think he’d ever seen the guy clean-shaven, but he’d witnessed firsthand just how much the chicks liked Seth’s scruffy badass-ness. Seth was definitely the bad boy of the crew, a total asshole when he wanted to be, but he was also lethal as hell and someone you wanted watching your six on a mission.
“Hot,” Cash replied, albeit grudgingly.
“Very hot,” Ryan confirmed before fixing a frown on Seth. “But Carson’s got this thing about keeping his teammates away from his sister, so don’t get any bright ideas, Masterson.”
“Me?” Seth donned an innocent face. “I think you should be dishing out that advice to McCoy. According to Dylan, he’s already very acquainted with—”
“Sorry I’m late,” Jackson’s voice came from behind.
Saved by the Texan.
Cash glared at Seth as Ryan turned to greet Jackson, who’d shown up in sweatpants and a white T-shirt with the words “Don’t Mess with Texas” blazing across the front.
“Not a word,” Cash muttered.
Seth’s gray eyes gleamed, lips twitching. “Fine. But I want details later.”
Jackson strode up and slapped Cash’s shoulder. “I heard you’re shackin’ up with the LT’s little sister.”
He suppressed a groan. Why did everyone feel the need to give him heat about this? “Yes. I am. Now how about we quit gossiping like a bunch of preteens and get a move on?”
Fortunately, nobody argued, and a few minutes later, the only heat Cash got was the sun’s rays beating down on his head and shoulders. He zoned out as his sneakers slapped the wet sand, drawing in the scent of salt and sweat on each inhale.
They ran their usual four miles. The only sounds breaching the comfortable silence were the thud of sneakers on sand and the squawking of gulls overhead. Sweat rose on Cash’s bare chest, dripping down his forehead and sliding between his pecs. Fuck, it was hot out. Only nine thirty in the morning, but he’d bet the temperature was somewhere in the eighties already, and climbing steadily. But it beat the desert climate of Phoenix, where the summers could be unbearable. Plus, Coronado had the ocean factor going for it. Nothing he loved more than the salty spray of the Pacific misting his face as his feet whipped across the sand.
When they neared the beach’s northernmost point, they turned around and slowed their pace, making their way back to the main stretch. Ryan and Jackson paired off, jogging up ahead, while Cash found himself flanked by Dylan and Seth, both of whom were grinning like a pair of idiots.
“How’s the hands-off plan going?” Dylan asked with barely restrained amusement.
“Terribly,” Cash admitted. “The woman is determined to seduce me.”
Seth hooted. “Poor baby. A hot chick wants to screw you. Whatever will you do?”
He clenched his jaw. “Not her. I promised Carson I’d behave.”
“What Carson doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Dylan said in a singsong voice.
Cash snorted. “Right, because it’s so easy to keep secrets in this group. I can recite all the women every single one of you has slept with. If I fuck his sister, Carson will find out.”
“Not from us,” Dylan said.
Now Seth snorted. “No, you’re right,” he told Cash. “If Dylan knows, everyone will know.”
“Bull. I know how to keep my mouth shut.”
“Not after a few shots of Jägermeister, you don’t.”
Dylan shrugged. “Good point.” He glanced at Cash. “How about I become your sponsor? You know, like AA-type shit. I’ll help keep you in line.”
“So you’ll strap on the chastity belt for him?” Seth cracked.
“Whenever you’re tempted to unzip your pants, just call me and I’ll talk you out of it. I’ll even check in with you every few hours and give you gruesome facts about what it’s like to drown, as an incentive not to piss off the LT.”
Cash had to laugh. “You’re a good friend.”
“You know it.”
They caught up with Ryan and Jackson at the water’s edge, where they kicked off their sneakers and waded into the water. Cash welcomed the initial rush of cool relief as he submerged himself, but it wasn’t long before he was sweating again. The two-mile swim was one he could do in his sleep with one arm tied behind his back, but damn, it was sweltering hot today.
A throb had built in his temples by the time they staggered back to shore, but he felt more relaxed than he had in days. He loved hanging out with his boys. The camaraderie they’d formed during BUD/S training had only grown stronger over the years, which was funny considering how different they all were. Dylan, the California boy with his preppy clothes and natural charisma. Tough guy, chain-smoking, chip-on-his-shoulder Seth. Jackson, with his sweet-talkin’ ways and good ol’ boy charm.
Ryan and the others were great too, but those friendships didn’t come close to rivaling the tight-knit bond he’d formed with his three fellow rookies.
“Don’t forget,” Dylan said before they parted ways in the parking lot ten minutes later. “Your sponsor is only a phone call away.”
Grabbing a towel from the back of Ryan’s Jeep, Cash dried his dripping wet chest and said, “That’s actually kinda reassuring.”
Dylan grinned. “She’s really gotten under your skin, huh?”
He let out a heavy breath. “You don’t know the half of it.”
Jen was curled up in a recliner clicking through job ads on her laptop when Cash lumbered into the apartment. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of all that hotness. The sweaty T-shirt pasted to his chest emphasized every hard ridge and ripple of his broad torso, and since he hadn’t shaved before leaving this morning, dark stubble covered his strong jaw, lending him a feral air.
When she noticed the flush on his cheeks and the weary set of his mouth, she narrowed her eyes. “You okay?” she asked, closing her laptop and setting it on the coffee table.
“I think I overdid it,” he muttered. “I might have heatstroke.”
She grinned. “The big, tough Navy SEAL let the sun get to him?”
He ignored her and strode toward the corridor. “I’m taking a shower.”
After he disappeared, Jen leaned back in the chair and stared up at the ceiling. Her grin faded, muscles knotting with frustration. She wasn’t ready to admit defeat yet, but it was becoming glaringly obvious that Cash possessed a disgusting amount of willpower. She’d brought her A-game to the table the past couple of days, yet the infuriating man continued to resist her advances.
She wasn’t sure whether to be insulted or impressed.
Either way, enough was enough. She wanted Cash McCoy so badly she couldn’t think straight. Everything about him turned her on.
That old saying about wanting what you can’t have had become her life’s theme song. She craved Cash on a whole new level now. The more he resisted, the more attracted to him she was. Sad, really.
“You hungry?” Cash asked when he reappeared ten minutes later.
“Not really. I’m still full from breakfast.”
“Good, because I’m too beat to deal with food right now.” With his hair damp from the shower, he crossed the room and collapsed on the couch, stretching out on his back. A groan slipped out as he closed his eyes. “My head is killing me.”
A spark of worry lit her belly. “Maybe you do have heatstroke.” She hopped off the chair and approached the couch.
Cash’s eyes flew open when she touched his cheeks. “What are you doing?” he said hoarsely.
She frowned. “Your skin’s hot to the touch. Did you replenish your fluids?”
His eyelids fluttered closed again. “Chugged half a bottle of water when we finished up,” he mumbled.
“How strenuous of a workout?”
“Ran four miles. Swam a couple miles. Push-ups, crunches, some other stuff.”
Jen shot him an incredulous look, even though he couldn’t see it. “You did all that, in the sun, in ninety-two-degree weather, and you only drank half a bottle of water?”
“I was distracted.”
She grumbled in frustration and flew toward the kitchen, where she grabbed two waters from the fridge. Returning to the couch, she uncapped one bottle and thrust it at Cash. “Drink,” she ordered.
He slid up, took the bottle, and drained it. “Can I take a nap now?” he asked, weary.
“Only if you don’t complain when I wake you up to drink this second bottle.”
“I won’t complain,” he said obediently.
“How’s your head?”
“Throbbing.”
Jen shoved her hands underneath his wide shoulders. “Scoot up.”
His gaze darkened with suspicion. “Why?”
“I can help.”
After a moment of visible reluctance, he raised himself up. Jen wedged her body on the couch and pulled Cash’s damp head into her lap. That he didn’t protest at the close contact told her his headache must be worse than he was letting on.
“Close your eyes,” she murmured.
He did, and his features relaxed as she lowered her thumbs to his temples. Drawing her brows together in concentration, she massaged his temples in a circular motion, keeping the pressure steady.
Cash groaned huskily. “Where’d you learn to do that?”
“I got a lot of headaches when I was younger. My mom’s a nurse, so she knows all sorts of tricks to get rid of the pain. She gives the best temple massages. She taught me how to do them.”
Jen used her fingertips to stroke the area between his eyebrows and hairline, slowly rubbing his hot skin.
He groaned again. “She taught you well. That feels fantastic.”
She made small circles between his brows, gently pressing down, then massaged from his temples to the strong line of his jawbone. With his eyes closed, she was able to admire every inch of his gorgeous face. The sharp jut of his cheekbones. His surprisingly long eyelashes. The tiny scar nicking the corner of his jaw.
She knew he’d fallen asleep when his breathing steadied and his bottom lip dropped out in a sexy pout. She kept massaging. Watched the rise and fall of his spectacular chest. His skin felt cooler to the touch, but she only allowed him a twenty-minute catnap before waking him up.
“Drink,” she said after she’d coaxed his eyes open.
His answering moan was seriously endearing, but he didn’t resist when she brought the bottle to his lips. He drank greedily, then lolled his head to the side and snuggled into her thigh.
Jen couldn’t fight the rush of heat that sizzled through her. She wore only a tank top and a pair of cotton boxers, and the way Cash’s whiskers scraped her bare thigh brought goose bumps to her skin. And his head kept rubbing over her pelvis as he tried to get comfortable again, which made it impossible not to get turned on.
As she ran her fingers through his hair in soothing strokes, excitement pricked her flesh, making every inch of her burn. Her nipples beaded, pushed into the lacy material of her bra. Her pussy ached, throbbing in tune to the persistent beating of her heart. Lord, she wanted this man.
Frustration seized her insides. Damn her brother for ordering Cash to keep his hands off her.
Her fingers froze in Cash’s hair as a thought dawned on her. Carson might have tied Cash’s hands, but he hadn’t tied hers.
A devilish smile tickled her lips. Nope, her hands were certainly not tied.
Without giving herself the chance to chicken out, she shuffled and slid down the couch so that she and Cash lay side to side.
His eyes popped open, narrowing when he realized their faces were inches apart.
“What are you doing?” he croaked.
“Taking advantage of the loophole.”
Then she lowered her hand to his groin and cupped him over his shorts.
Cash jerked as if he’d been shot.
“Hear me out,” she said in a throaty voice that couldn’t possibly belong to her.
His features grew taut, but she knew it had nothing to do with his headache and everything to do with that darn restraint of his.
“Carson told you to keep your hands off me, but he didn’t say anything about me keeping my hands off you.” To punctuate, she dragged her palm up and down his hard-on.
His expression creased with torment. “Jen—”
“Let me touch you. I’m going crazy here, Cash. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone this much.”
Surprise filtered into his gaze. “I want you too,” he said roughly.
“Good.” She gripped both his wrists and forced his arms over his head. “Just keep your hands up there, cowboy. That way if my annoying brother asks whether you touched me, you can honestly answer that no, you didn’t.”
When his mouth opened to voice another objection, she shut him up the only way she knew how—she kissed him.
And boy, his lips were as addictive as she remembered. She brushed her mouth over his in a fleeting caress, then peppered little kisses on the corners of his mouth, his cheeks, his jaw. When she returned to his lips and teased the seam with the tip of her tongue, he made a low noise and granted her access. She licked her way into his mouth, planting her palms on his chest as she deepened the kiss. When their tongues met, Cash thrust his hips, pushing his erection into her thigh.
Jen’s lungs burned from lack of oxygen as the kiss grew hotter, more desperate. Cash tried to lower one hand to touch her, but she shoved it back up and locked his wrists with her fingers.
“No touching,” she said breathlessly.
She glided her other hand down his rock-hard chest, past his rippled abs, and under the waistband of his shorts.
Cash moaned.
“How’s your head?” she asked.
“Still hurts,” he said in a strangled voice.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make it better.”
With a wicked smile, she moved to the foot of the couch and slowly worked his shorts off his hips. Her mouth watered when his dick sprang up to greet her. Lord, the man was hung like a bull. Thick, long, hard. His balls were drawn tight, and the engorged head of his cock bobbed against his navel, leaving a streak of moisture on his abs.
Jen was suddenly hit with a pang of self-consciousness. She might have started this, but truth was, she didn’t have much experience in the oral sex department. Giving it or getting it. She’d gone down on her boyfriends, Brendan included, but it had always been rushed because they’d been in too much of a hurry to get inside her.
She swallowed the saliva pooling in her mouth and collected her composure, then peered up at Cash, who was watching her with a heavy-lidded look.
“My technique probably isn’t what you’re used to,” she confessed. “Tell me if I do it wrong.”
His lips quirked. “Sweetheart, I’m pretty sure I can come from the thought of being in your mouth. Trust me, I’ll like whatever you do.”
Warmth traveled down her chest and settled between her legs. When she dropped her gaze and saw a bead of moisture glistening at the tip of his erection, she decided to quit hesitating before Cash regained his senses and put a stop to this. So what if she didn’t have experience? She’d just have to do some exploring and figure out how to drive this man wild.
She started by dipping her head and tentatively licking that tempting little drop of moisture.
Cash hissed out a breath.
“You okay?” she teased.
“Uh-huh.”
Emboldened by his reaction to that one teeny lick, she rested her hands on his thighs, teasing the coarse hair and feeling his muscles clench beneath her fingertips. Then she licked him from root to tip, savoring the clean, salty taste of him. His ragged breathing spurred her on. She swept her tongue up the length of him, rubbing her lips over the head before licking the fluid seeping from the little slit.
“You done teasing?” he grumbled.
“Not by a long shot,” she said before flicking her tongue against the underside of his cock.
He mumbled a savage curse.
Why hadn’t anyone ever told her how empowering it could be reducing a man to a panting, cursing mess?
Fighting a smile, she skated her tongue up and down his shaft, then wrapped her lips around the head and sucked.
His hips shot up, trying to push his entire length into her mouth. With a slow exhale, she gave him what he wanted, her cheeks hollowing as she brought him deeper, testing how much she could take. Breathing through her nose, she relaxed her throat as he fed his cock to her inch by delicious inch. Though he kept his arms above his head, Cash controlled the encounter with his hips, driving in and out of her mouth with leisurely but steady strokes.
“That’s it, baby.” His voice was a cross between a whisper and a groan. “Suck me nice and slow.”
Realizing she’d completely neglected the tight sac bumping against her chin, Jen lowered her hand and cupped his balls, eliciting a hoarse cry from him. His hips retreated and that thick cock slid out of her mouth with a wet pop.
“Lick my balls,” he rasped. “Do that teasing thing again.”
Her heart thudded. She licked, sucked one in her mouth, then the other, then replaced her tongue with her hand and squeezed him hard.
Cash released a wild groan.
His response to her exploration turned her on beyond belief. An ache formed between her legs. Her breathing went shallow. Every inch of her body tingled.
God, she was going to explode.
But not until she made him explode first.
Wrapping her fingers around him, she brought his cock back to her mouth, sucking hard. His groans grew more desperate, his body pistoning harder. She swirled her tongue over his head at each upstroke, quickening her pace.
“Fuck. Yeah, like that. Jerk me faster. And suck harder.”
Jen gave him what he wanted, pumping his shaft as she sucked him into oblivion.
“Oh, Jesus. Yeah, that’s it…that’s it…fuck.”
Then he moaned, disregarded the no-touching rule, and shoved his hands in her hair as his dick throbbed and spasmed in her mouth.
Hot pulses of liquid shot to the back of her throat and she eagerly swallowed each drop, loving the taste of him, loving the way he gripped her hair, the way he rocked his hips with complete abandon.
When he finally grew still, Jen lifted her head, unable to control the cocky smile that tugged on her lips. Cash’s eyes were closed, his frantic pulse ticking in the hollow of his throat.
“Feel better?” she asked, amused.
To her irritation, his eyes snapped open to reveal not the glaze of post-orgasmic bliss she’d expected, but a look of utter betrayal.
“I can’t believe you took advantage of my heatstroke and seduced me.”
She lifted one eyebrow in defiance. “Really? You’re going to play the wounded virgin here?”
He didn’t seem to hear her. “Oh man. If Carson finds out his little sister gave me a blowjob…” Cash made a swift move to yank his shorts up.
Rolling her eyes, Jen intercepted his hand before he could cover himself up. “He won’t find out. Not unless we tell him. And we’re not going to tell him, are we, cowboy?”
“Never,” he confirmed miserably.
“Good.” She flashed a cheeky smile. “Just like we’re not going to tell him how you fucked his little sister on the couch.”
“I’m not going—” The words died when she hopped off the couch and whipped her tank top over her head.
A groan left his mouth, heavy with frustration and thick with lust.
“Oh yeah. This is happening, cowboy.” Grinning, Jen wiggled out of her shorts. She climbed on top of him wearing nothing but a skimpy black bra and matching bikini panties. “Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but your days of being a prude are officially over.”
