Heat of Passion Read online

  eBooks are not transferable.

  They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

  577 Mulberry Street, Suite 1520

  Macon GA 31201

  Heat of Passion

  Copyright © 2009 by Elle Kennedy

  ISBN: 978-1-60504-474-3

  Edited by Laurie Rauch

  Cover by Natalie Winters

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: March 2009

  www.samhainpublishing.com

  Heat of Passion

  Elle Kennedy

  Dedication

  To all the readers who demanded Carson needed his own story!

  Prologue

  As far as bachelor parties went, this one fucking sucked. Normally it was the best man’s job to organize the stag, and Carson Scott had been tossing around wild and kinky ideas in his head ever since his best friend got engaged. But had any of those wild and kinky ideas seen the light of day? Nope. Because Garrett and Shelby wanted to plan it themselves—and make it a joint shindig.

  Spending time with Shelby’s hot friends might’ve been fun, except they were all married, engaged or attached. All of them. And since almost every guy on Garrett’s SEAL team, including Carson, was single, the chances of hooking up with a female member of the bridal party were zero.

  Fortunately, the bachelor/bachelorette party was being held at Hot Zone, the newest nightclub in San Diego, so the chances of hooking up with a non-wedding-related chick were looking pretty good.

  Carson lifted his beer to his lips and stepped closer to the second-floor railing that overlooked the crowded dance floor below. Hot Zone was one of those establishments that didn’t care much for lighting. Darkness fell over the entire club, broken only by the bright flashes of the strobe lights. A sultry salsa beat pounded out of the speaker system, the heavy bass making the floor beneath his feet vibrate, and down on the dance floor, couples grinded together to the music. One of the couples was Garrett and Shelby, only they weren’t doing much dancing. Just standing in the middle of the floor, making out as if they were the only two people in the room.

  Next to Carson, fellow SEAL Ryan Evans tapped one hand on the iron railing and frowned at the display of vertical sex happening below. “Shit, I really need to get laid,” Ryan grumbled. He took a swig of beer then slammed the bottle back on the table they’d been standing around for the past hour. Glancing over at the long chrome bar counter behind them, he frowned again and added, “And if anyone fucking suggests I hop into bed with one of those old dudes by the bar, I’ll kick your ass.”

  Matt O’Connor laughed. “The bald one’s kinda cute. I bet he’d do you.”

  “The only person I want to do is the maid of honor,” Ryan said with a sigh. “Man, I’d give up my favorite rifle for a chance with her.”

  All the guys nodded, their gazes glumly moving in the direction of the sexy woman who was chatting with her husband near the bar. Brianna Holliday, the maid of honor, was the stuff of wet dreams. Tall, blonde and stacked. Her blue dress was knee-length, with a modest neckline, yet it just screamed “Fuck Me Now”. No doubt that’s what her husband was gonna do the second he got her home tonight. If Carson had a woman like that, he’d never let her get out of bed.

  He turned back to his teammates. “Isn’t it the duty of the best man to screw the maid of honor? Why am I deprived of the privilege?”

  “Because you’ve already screwed the bride,” Junior Lieutenant Will Charleston pointed out, finally joining the conversation.

  Carson stifled a groan. Why wasn’t he surprised that Will knew about his romp with Shelby and Garrett? He’d only told Matt, but when you spent all your time with the same five guys, secrets didn’t stay secret for long.

  “I wish I screwed the bride,” Ryan said, staring longingly at Shelby.

  Carson followed the other man’s gaze, and couldn’t help admiring Shelby himself. Shel was the epitome of a California girl—blonde hair, blue eyes, toned bod. And she’d been a wildcat in bed, made him come so hard he could barely walk afterwards. Alas, thinking about the threesome he’d had with Shelby and Garrett in that heat wave six months ago was a no-no. Now that the couple was getting married, Carson knew it wasn’t appropriate to picture his best friend’s future wife naked.

  “Quit acting like you’re starved for sex,” Matt said to Ryan. “Didn’t you go home with that redhead from the bar last weekend?”

  Ryan groaned. “Unfortunately. We went back to her place, and I was on the receiving end of a pretty awesome blowjob—and then her husband came home. I barely got out of there with my skin intact.”

  Matt hooted, Carson chuckled, and even Will, who rarely smiled, looked like he was fighting back laughter. Ry’s story didn’t come as a surprise to anyone, though. One of these days Ryan Evans was going to find himself on the receiving end of an ass kicking. He seemed to attract the married ones like flies to a corpse.

  “Your dick’s really going to get you in trouble, you know that?” Matt said, voicing Carson’s thoughts.

  “At least I’m using my dick. Unlike you monks over here.” He gestured to Will and Carson.

  Carson raised a brow. “Don’t go dragging me into this. My dick’s doing fine, thank you very much.”

  “Good to hear,” a throaty female voice remarked.

  Carson swiveled his head in the direction of the voice, just in time to see a petite brunette in a yellow halter-top emerge from the shadows. The second floor of the club had a loft feel to it, a huge open space with a handful of floor-to-ceiling beams, and the brunette must have been leaning against one of those pillars, because Carson hadn’t even seen her approach. Which raised the question, just how long had she been lurking in the darkness, eavesdropping on them?

  The others looked as startled as he felt to see her standing there. “So, which one of you is going to dance with me?” she asked in that husky voice.

  Man, how did a tiny thing like her have such a sexy, fuck-me voice? Carson studied her, waiting for flashes from the strobe to illuminate her face so he could get a better look. Each time a streak of light lit up her face, Carson liked what he saw. She had one of those faces you saw in makeup ads—smooth creamy skin, a small upturned nose, and naturally red lips that were lush and sensual and ridiculously kissable. He lowered his gaze and liked what he saw there too. Perky breasts, small but in proportion to her petite frame. She couldn’t have been taller than five feet, but her sexy little body was a total turn-on.

  The biggest turn-on about her was that he could see her nipples poking against her halter. Yup, she wasn’t wearing a bra.

  He noticed his teammates checking her out as well, saw their appreciation, and an odd pang of possessiveness gripped his insides.

  “Well?” she prompted, her voice barely audible over the music.

  Well, what? Right, the dance. Carson quickly moved his gaze away from those small, tantalizing breasts and took a step forward before any of his friends—mainly Ryan—snatched up this hot little pixie.

  “Sweetheart, I would love to dance with you,” he drawled, shooting her his trademark ladies’ man grin.

  Women always told him that grin of his was hot enough to melt a glacier, and
sure enough, he saw the brunette’s cheeks redden a little. It could’ve been the shadows making her look flushed, but he preferred to think the grin had done it.

  A pair of catlike green eyes focused on Carson. Shit, she had nice eyes. They tilted up just slightly at the corners, giving her a very exotic air. “Let’s do it then.”

  Oh, he wanted to do it all right. Although he’d never admit it to Ryan I-Need-To-Get-Laid Evans, it had been way too long since Carson had slept with anyone. Five weeks, to be exact, and he was getting real tired of flying solo. That three-week mission in Colombia played a part in his current celibate status, but after that he had no excuse other than he simply hadn’t encountered a woman who set him on fire. Six months ago, he might’ve settled for the first available warm body, but ever since his best friend had fallen for Shelby, Carson found it was getting harder to justify screwing random chicks. Garrett and Shelby were so disgustingly in love, they made him feel sleazy about his casual lifestyle. Not that he was looking for love or anything, but lately he was pickier about who he fell into bed with.

  He might, however, make an exception for the woman who’d just asked him to dance.

  She walked ahead of him, and Carson took the opportunity to admire the way her short black skirt hugged her firm little bottom. He usually went for curvy and leggy, but something about this woman’s fragile figure made his blood heat up.

  He tore his eyes away from that delectable ass and followed her down the open spiral staircase leading to the main floor. When she reached the bottom step, she cocked her head as if to check if he was still there, and when their gazes connected, he saw a sensual smile tug on her pouty mouth. Damn, those lips belonged in an X-rated video. Preferably one that featured him and the lips in question wrapped around his dick.

  Amusement danced in her green eyes. “You’re staring at my mouth.”

  “You’ve got a nice mouth,” he answered glibly.

  “So do you.” She studied him. “In fact, you’ve got a nice everything. Are you an actor?”

  “Male model,” he lied, only because he didn’t feel like telling her he was a SEAL. Women had a tendency to go a little nutty when they found out what he did, got all wide-eyed as fantasies of being swept off their feet by a real-life hero filled their pretty heads. And Carson had no desire to sweep anyone off her feet tonight, unless it involved sweeping this appealing brunette to the nearest bed.

  She smiled again, but the look on her face said she didn’t quite believe him. “Interesting. Do you pose in the nude?”

  “All the time.” He curled his fingers over her arm and led her toward the packed dance floor. The music was a lot louder down here, so he dipped his head to her ear and added, “I could give you a private show if you’d like.”

  She laughed, the sound quickly swallowed by the reggae song that pounded out of the speakers. Leaning up on her tiptoes, she brushed her lips over his ear as she said, “First you can dance with me, then I’ll decide if I want to see you naked.”

  Carson grinned and pulled her into the throng of people. She immediately pressed her body to his and started to move. Those curvy breasts teased his chest, sending sparks of heat to his cock every time her small, erect nipples pushed against him. The top of her head barely reached his chin, and her soft wavy hair tickled his neck. She smelled like flowers and honey, the aroma filling his nostrils, subtle and yet far more potent than the scent of sweat, perfume and aftershave mingling in the hot air of the club.

  He rested his hands on her tucked-in waist, slipping them under the hem of her halter-top so he could feel her bare skin. As he moved his body to the rhythm, he slid his fingers over her warm flesh, enjoying the silky feel of it. She sighed, her breath tickling his collarbone and searing right through his black T-shirt.

  “How am I doing so far?” he asked.

  She tilted her head up to look at him, an enticing smile playing on her lips. “So far, so good.” She punctuated the words by rubbing her lower body against his pelvis.

  His cock rose to attention, thickening to a long ridge that strained against the zipper of his jeans. Never missing a beat, he spun her around then pressed his erection against her ass, running his hands up and down her bare arms. He lowered his head to her ear again. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

  A beat of silence. “Jessica.”

  “I’m Carson.” Then, unable to help it, he slid his tongue over the shell of her ear before sucking on the delicate lobe. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jessica.”

  She pushed her butt out and rubbed it over his erection before spinning back around and wrapping her arms around his neck. Their gazes locked, and the hint of sex sizzled in the air between them. Actually, scratch that. He would definitely be having sex with this green-eyed seductress tonight, no hint about it.

  She obviously shared the same sentiment, because the next thing he knew she was kissing him.

  Her hot mouth latched onto his, her eager little tongue darting out and filling his mouth.

  Oh yeah.

  Carson didn’t care that they were in the middle of a crowded dance floor, didn’t care that this was his best friend’s stag or that his SEAL buddies were probably getting a kick out of watching him from the second-floor railing. All he cared about was devouring every inch of sweet Jessica’s mouth. And devour he did.

  He thrust one hand into her long, wavy hair and angled her head for better access, shoving his tongue deep in her mouth. She tasted like alcohol and sex. His erection pulsed as she flicked her tongue over his, over and over again, and then she nibbled on his bottom lip and his cock damn well near exploded. Jesus. He was harder than a slab of marble, and in serious danger of coming in his pants from one—albeit very erotic—kiss.

  “Let’s get out of here,” he muttered against her lips, shaping her ass with his hands and thrusting his aching groin against her belly.

  “No, I want you now.” She kissed him again, long and hard, moving one hand down his chest and palming the bulge in his jeans.

  He almost keeled over backwards. A groan rose in his throat and it took all his willpower to move her hand away. “We’re on the dance floor, sweetheart,” he pointed out.

  She shot him a wicked smile. “So?”

  Christ, this woman was going to kill him. He’d never been more turned on in his entire twenty-nine years, and he suddenly knew that if he didn’t fuck her—now—he really would explode in his pants.

  “C’mere,” he ordered gruffly, grabbing her hand and leading her out of the mob of dancers.

  He had no fucking clue where he was taking her. He just walked as fast as he could—difficult seeing as the Erection of the Year was dominating his lower body. He shoved random people out of his way, not bothering with excuse me, just pushing forward. In the darkness, he caught sight of a corridor leading toward the restrooms. Both the men’s and ladies’ washrooms had a line. Goddammit.

  Still gripping Jessica’s hand, he glanced around, spotted a door marked Supplies and pushed at the handle with his other hand.

  A dark closet welcomed them, lined with cleaning items and toilet paper and smelling of pine, lemon and rubbing alcohol.

  Carson barely noticed his surroundings. He locked the door behind them, promptly shoved Jessica against the wall, and kissed her again. She instantly parted her lips and sought out his tongue, lapping at it like an impatient kitten in front of a saucer of milk. There was something desperate about her kiss, and when he pulled back and looked into her eyes, he saw a flicker of desperation there too.

  “You okay?” he murmured, caressing her lower back with one hand. The heat of her skin was driving him crazy, making it difficult to think, let alone talk.

  “I’m fine. Great, actually. No, better than great.” Her voice trembled slightly, but her gaze now shone with passion and determination. She wrapped her arms around his neck and ran her fingers along his jaw. “I need you to do something for me, Carson.”

  It was hard to concentrate with her stroking hi
s face like that, but he managed to ask, “What is it?”

  “I need you to rock my world. Can you do that for me?”

  The words were laced with steely fortitude and teasing challenge, and again, that twinge of desperation. He got the feeling something was up with her. That she was upset, or pissed off—trying to get back at an ex perhaps? Maybe, but at this point, he didn’t care. She wanted her world rocked? Well, he was definitely the man for that job.

  He pulled his wallet from his pocket and retrieved the condom he kept there. Jessica’s eyes darkened with passion when she saw the foil wrapper. While he unwrapped it, she rubbed the front of his jeans, up and down, down and up, until his cock ached so badly he could barely suck in a breath. Then she unzipped his pants and wrapped her fingers around his erection.

  “You’re so hard,” she whispered as she stroked him, swirling one finger over his swollen tip.

  “All because of you, sweetheart,” he rasped out, finally managing to roll the damn condom onto his throbbing shaft. “Take your panties off.”

  For a second she looked nervous, and then she slipped her hands underneath her skirt and slowly peeled her silky black underwear down her legs. She kicked them aside, watching him expectantly. “Any more demands?” she asked with a tiny grin.

  “Just one.” He moved closer and gripped her hips with both hands. “Wrap your legs around me.”

  She did as she was told, and a second later he was cupping her warm little ass in his hands and lifting her up. He would’ve liked to drop to his knees and lick her up like an ice cream cone, get her nice and wet for him, but she didn’t seem interested in foreplay. And it wasn’t necessary, he soon learned, as he slid his cock deep inside her and found himself surrounded by her tight, soaked pussy. He nearly keeled over backwards, relying on all his strength to keep them both upright and not pass out from the incredible sensations all that warmth and moisture elicited inside him.

  “God, you feel good,” he choked out, burying his face in the crook of her neck.