Getting Hotter Read online

  His answering laugh, low and husky, made her feel all tingly again. But it was his tongue that transformed the tingling into a wave of exquisite excitement that seized her lower body. He licked her slowly, gently, as if he had all the time in the world. Kissed, swirled, teased. Flattened his tongue and swiped it over her clit, then fastened his mouth on that sensitive bundle of nerves and sucked, his happy groan pulsating in her tender flesh.

  “I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he muttered. “I could lick you up for hours.”

  He rubbed his lips over her clit, back and forth, back and forth, until she couldn’t take one more second of torment.

  She dug her short fingernails into his shoulders, keeping him in place, bringing him closer. His stubble abraded her inner thighs as he worshipped her pussy. She knew she’d have red marks and beard burn all over her skin by the time this night ended, yet the idea of being marked by this man made her body ache even more.

  It wasn’t long before the tension began to build again, tightening her muscles, speeding her heartbeat. While he tended to her clit, Seth used the tip of one finger to toy with her. He didn’t push that finger inside, no matter how many times she lifted her ass off the bed trying to deepen the contact. Each time she tried, he just moved the finger away, chuckling even as he continued to lave her clit with his tongue.

  “Please,” she whimpered.

  He laughed again, removing his mouth from her sex altogether and nuzzling her inner thigh with his stubble-covered cheek.

  “Please, Seth. No more teasing.”

  His lips traveled along her heated flesh, tongue darting out to taste the honey pooling at her entrance.

  Miranda groaned. “Goddammit, Seth. Seven years.”

  She felt his powerful body shudder with laughter, heard the husky sounds echoing in the bedroom, but she couldn’t focus on anything but his hot mouth, so close to where she wanted it to be and yet so far away she wanted to scream.

  “I’m sorry, babe. I guess I should show you some mercy, huh?”

  And then he slid two long fingers into her pussy and clamped his lips over her clit, making her explode in an intense rush of pleasure that ripped through her body and sent her mind spinning into oblivion.

  When she finally recovered—who knew how long that took—Seth was poised over her, his powerful arms on either side of her head, his erection covered with a condom.

  A pang of disappointment tugged at her. She’d wanted to do some exploring of her own. Stroke him, suck him, find out what drove him crazy, but one look at his face and she knew he was on the verge of losing every last bit of the control she’d given back to him. His masculine features were pulled taut, gray eyes glittering with need, teeth biting into his bottom lip.

  Without a word, she parted her legs wider and met his eyes.

  He responded by easing the head of his cock into her, just an inch.

  “You good?” he asked hoarsely.

  “Mmm-hmmm.”

  He pushed in another inch. They both groaned.

  “More,” she breathed.

  “I don’t want to be too rough. Seven years, remember?”

  His thoughtfulness made her heart skip a beat. But he was worrying for nothing—she was so wet and ready for him that slow and easy was completely unnecessary. To prove it, she lifted her hips, hooked her legs around his lean waist, and joined them together fully.

  A curse popped out of Seth’s mouth. “Holy fuck,” he choked out. “God, you’re tight.”

  She mentally thanked all those Kegel exercises she’d done after the twins were born. Maybe it was seven years too late, but hey, better late than never.

  Seth withdrew, plunged back in, then swore again. “I’m not going to last.”

  “I thought SEALs were supposed to have crazy stamina,” she teased.

  “We do. But not when we haven’t had sex in two months.” A pained look entered his eyes. “I’m serious, baby, I’ve got two, maybe three strokes in me.”

  His honest evaluation of his thrust capacity had her laughing. “Then I guess you’ll just have to make it up to me next time.”

  “Next time,” he echoed, more of a question than a statement.

  She nodded slowly. “There’ll be a next time, Seth.”

  “Thank God.” And then he drove his cock so deep she gasped.

  He’d been too hard on himself—he lasted eight strokes before he slammed into her one last time and grew still, his low groan signaling his release.

  Miranda watched his face as he came, floored by the passion she saw there, the naked pleasure and masculine vulnerability. Seeing him so exposed was strangely thrilling. Seth was always so indifferent, quick to taunt and slow to let down his guard.

  When he collapsed on top of her, she stroked his damp back, enjoying the way he nestled his face in the crook of her neck. His facial hair tickled her flesh, his chest hair teasing her nipples, and his heart was beating as fast as hers. It felt nice having him lie on top of her, but he didn’t stay in that position for long.

  “I’m crushing you,” he murmured.

  They both moaned as his cock slid out. A fresh rush of desire filled Miranda’s body. She watched him remove the condom and drop it on the end table, his strong arms flexing with his every move. Her gaze rested on the tattoo covering his left shoulder and most of his upper arm.

  “So what’s the story behind the tattoo on your arm?” she asked, remembering the comment Dylan had made in the kitchen the other day.

  Seth sighed as he lay back down and drew the sheet over their naked bodies. “It’s not much of a story. Went to Fiji on my nineteenth birthday with a few other recruits and I met a girl there. She convinced me to get a couple of tattoos. I wanted to get in her pants, so I figured inking up a few body parts was a fair price to pay. So I did my arm and my leg.”

  “Then there’s no special meaning behind the designs?”

  “Nope. I got ’em because they looked badass.”

  She grinned, but she couldn’t contradict him. The tats did look badass. Funny, how she was always drawn to men with tattoos. Trent had been covered in them too.

  As the thought of her ex floated into her mind, she was suddenly struck by another realization.

  “That’s two,” she announced.

  Miranda’s matter-of-fact declaration made Seth turn his head in curiosity. He was still trying to recover from that mind-shattering climax, so his brain wasn’t working at full capacity yet. “What’s two?” he asked.

  “Lovers. As of right now, I’ve officially had two lovers.”

  Surprise filtered into him. “You’re serious? I’m only the second man you’ve slept with?”

  His peripheral vision caught her quick nod. Rolling onto his side, he placed his palm on her flat belly and searched her uncomfortable expression. “So there was the father of your kids, a seven-year break, and then…me.”

  She nodded again, her mouth curving in a smile. “Does that freak you out?”

  “Why would it freak me out?”

  “I don’t know. My lack of experience might be a turnoff.”

  “Baby, the word turnoff doesn’t apply to you.”

  Letting out a soft laugh, she shifted so they were lying face to face. Her hand came up to trace the tattoo on his right side, four rows of small black numbers inked right above his hip bone. “What are those dates?”

  The question was expected—it always got asked when women saw him naked—but it still evoked that same twinge of discomfort. “Just milestones,” he said, keeping it vague.

  “Ah, finally, a tat with meaning. Care to elaborate?”

  When he didn’t answer, she ran her fingers over the most recent date. “What happened on May 3, 2009?”

  He swallowed the lump that rose in his throat. “That was the first time I saved a life.”

  Her hazel eyes filled with surprise. “Oh. Wow. Are you allowed to talk about it? I remember Missy saying you can’t give any details about your assignments.”

/>   “She’s right. I can’t say much, especially about that particular op. Let’s just say we got someone important out of a dangerous place.”

  “Okay. What about this one? September 20, 2007?”

  “The day I got my SEAL trident.” He swiftly rolled over on his back before she could ask about the remaining two dates.

  Subject change. Now.

  Seth scanned his brain. His solution ended up putting Miranda on the spot. “You never talk about your children’s father.”

  She exhaled slowly. “That’s because there’s not much to say about him.”

  That heavy breath of hers had directed his gaze to her bare breasts, which momentarily distracted him. His cock twitched beneath the sheet covering their lower bodies, but he forced himself to ignore the clench of desire and concentrate on the curiosity her words had inspired.

  “Are you still in contact with him?” Even as he asked the question, he knew what her answer would be.

  “I haven’t spoken to him since the day he signed away his parental rights,” she said flatly.

  “So you have no idea where he is?” Seth gently rested his hand on her waist, stroking the curve of her hip and upper thigh.

  “Oh, I know where he is. Prison. Maximum security.” Disapproval rang from each word. “He robbed a liquor store outside of Vegas and accidentally shot and killed the clerk. Trent was convicted of armed robbery, manslaughter and a bunch of other stuff I can’t remember. He was sentenced to life, but I think he’s eligible for parole at some point. Not sure when.”

  Rather than pose another question or urge her to continue, Seth waited it out. He’d discovered that people were more likely to share their secrets when they weren’t being pressured to spill them, but Miranda was obviously on to him, because she laughed softly and said, “I know you want me to keep talking. Don’t pretend otherwise.”

  He chuckled. Busted.

  “You’re curious about how I met Trent, right?”

  “Yeah, but you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

  She shrugged. “It’s not some big secret or anything. I was eighteen, just graduated from high school, and I was leaving for college at the end of the summer. I landed a dance scholarship at the University of Nevada. Full ride.”

  “Nice,” he said, impressed.

  Her voice took on a faraway note. “Yeah, it was nice. I was so excited about it. And then I met Trent. I was working as a waitress at this twenty-four-hour diner on the Strip and one night Trent rode up on his Harley. He was the ultimate bad boy. Leather jacket, arms covered in tattoos, and he was gorgeous. Like drop-dead gorgeous.”

  With a sad smile, Miranda slid into a cross-legged position, bringing the sheet up with her and tucking it over her breasts. “I was such a goody-goody all throughout high school. I had to be—my dad was wild enough for the both of us, and I didn’t want to be anything like him. But when Trent walked into that diner? God, I wanted to be bad and irresponsible. Just once, I wanted to be the girl who rode on a motorcycle with a hot guy, not the one who saved all her tips in a jar so she could pay for college textbooks.”

  “So you jumped on the back of that Harley and told your responsibilities to fuck off?”

  “Yep.” She looked at him in wonder. “I know, right? Very unlike me. I quit my job, which wasn’t a huge deal since I already had a ton of money saved up. I packed a bag, left home and spent the whole summer riding across the country with Trent. I lost my virginity at the Grand Canyon, by the way.”

  “You bad girl, you. You tarnished a national treasure.”

  “Ha-ha.” She rolled her eyes, but the humor didn’t last long. “I’m pretty certain that’s where the twins were conceived. I was three months pregnant when Trent brought me back to Vegas.”

  “Wait, you were pregnant that whole time and didn’t know it?”

  “I was getting periods,” she explained. “Or at least I thought I was. And during the second month of traveling, I had morning sickness, but since I didn’t realize I was even late, I figured it was the stomach flu. The third month, I didn’t get a period, so that’s when I finally took a test.”

  “Was Trent with you?”

  She nodded. “We were at a rest-stop bathroom. We waited for the results together, and the second we saw that pink plus sign, Trent tossed the stick in the trash and said it was time for me to go home.”

  Anger tightened his chest. “Are you serious?”

  “Yep. He drove me home to Vegas, handed me some cash and told me to get rid of the baby.”

  “Fucking asshole.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “But you decided to keep the baby.”

  “And ended up with two,” she said with a laugh. “Trust me, no one was more shocked than me when Jason popped out after Sophie. He was hiding behind her during every ultrasound. Even her heartbeat overpowered his. Not much has changed since the womb, I guess. Sophie is still the ringleader of whatever shenanigans those two get into.”

  Seth sat up and reached for the bottle of water on the nightstand. He took a quick sip, then offered the bottle to Miranda, who shook her head.

  “So what happened with Trent?” he asked, realizing she’d never concluded that chapter of the story.

  “I called him to let him know I was keeping the baby and he told me he wanted no part in the child’s life.” She shrugged. “I expected that. But what I didn’t expect? Seeing Trent’s picture on the news a month later and finding out he killed a man during a robbery. That’s when I decided that I didn’t want Trent in my kid’s life either. Before, I was open to the idea of letting him visit the child if he ever changed his mind, but after he was arrested, I was all, hell no.”

  “I don’t blame you.”

  “So remember all the tip money I saved up for college? Well, I used it to hire a lawyer instead. He drew up some papers and I went to see Trent in prison. He signed away his rights, and I haven’t seen or spoken to him since.”

  “Do the rugrats ever ask about their dad?”

  “Never. I assume as they get older they’ll become more curious about him and start asking questions. God, I’m not looking forward to that day.” She bit her bottom lip, distressed. “What if they want to visit him in prison?”

  “They won’t.” Seth didn’t even hesitate. “The rugrats are smart, babe. Smart enough to know that you’re the only parent they need.”

  “You think my kids are smart?” She sounded astounded.

  Discomfort squeezed his throat. “Yeah, sure. Of course they are.”

  Miranda continued to stare at him as if he’d just told her he’d won an Olympic gold medal for synchronized swimming or some shit. “Can I ask you something?” she finally said.

  Crap. He knew exactly where this convo was heading, and he needed to derail it. Now. “Uh, yeah, sure,” he answered.

  “Why don’t you want children?”

  And there it was.

  Seth casually raked a hand through his hair, trying to hide his growing agitation. “Not everyone’s meant to have kids.”

  Her dark eyebrows furrowed. “So you think you’re not meant to have kids?”

  “Yes. I mean, no.” His brain struggled to locate an exit strategy. “I’m just not a kid person, babe. We operate on different wavelengths. They can’t talk to me, I can’t talk to them. And, uh…” He scrolled through the list of reasons he usually provided when people questioned his no-children stance. “I don’t have the patience for them, I guess.”

  Miranda’s expression grew more and more doubtful with each word he said, so he decided to quit talking. Christ, he shouldn’t have let this damn pillow talk go on for this long anyway. He didn’t do emotional heart-to-hearts after sex. His emotions were locked up tight. Private thoughts, past mistakes, moments of self-doubt—he’d bottled all that shit up a long time ago and no way would he let Miranda pull the cork.

  “I need my nicotine fix.” His voice was full of gravel, so he cleared his throat before cont
inuing. “You want to come outside with me?”

  Shaking her head, Miranda slowly slid out from beneath the sheet and rose from the bed. “I think I’ll head to my room.”

  Her naked body made him forget every single thing they’d been talking about for the past thirty minutes. Long limbs sculpted with lean muscle tone, dark hair tumbling down her back, curves in all the right places. His mouth grew dry at the sight of her, and all the blood in his body traveled south and settled in his groin.

  Miranda didn’t miss the thickening of his cock. “Down, boy. You have to wake up early.”

  As he grabbed his boxers from the chair near the bed and pulled them on, his gaze shifted to the alarm clock on the end table. One fifteen. Crap. He had to be up in five and a half hours. And if he showed up exhausted again the way he had a few days ago, Becker would rip his head off. So, a quick smoke and then some sleep. Those were the only two items on the agenda for the rest of the night.

  Of course, it would be easier to stick to the schedule if Miranda wasn’t parading around naked in front of him.

  “Oh sweet Jesus,” he groaned as she bent over to pick up her discarded shirt.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, oblivious.

  “Baby, you’re presenting your ass to me like a mare in heat. For the love of God, put on some clothes before I fuck you again.”

  Her resounding laughter only succeeded in making his dick harder. “Next time,” he croaked.

  She slipped her T-shirt over her head, the cotton fabric falling down to her knees. “Next time what?”

  “Just that there’ll be one,” he reminded her. “Your words, babe.”

  She visibly swallowed. “I know what I said.”

  Their gazes locked. The air between them heated, crackling with tension.

  “So when?” he asked huskily. “When can I have you again?”

  Her voice came out a little husky too. “Whenever you want, Seth.”

  Hot fucking damn.

  He stalked toward her, catching her around the waist with both arms. She gave a rapid intake of breath, then squeaked in delight as he covered her mouth with his and kissed her long and slow.

  When he pulled back, he studied her glazed expression, pleased with what he saw, and then he moved his lips close to her ear and said, “I’m holding you to that.”