Tonya Ramagos is a Siren-exclusive author.
Yikes! She didn’t need to look to know who’d just called out her name. Now what? She couldn’t ignore John. Not that she wanted to ignore him anyway. Except, she should. She should absolutely, positively pretend she didn’t know him from the man in the moon. She should walk away, quick, and act like she hadn’t heard him. Shouldn’t she? On the other hand, he wasn’t a SEAL anymore. That meant associating with him, getting hot and sweaty between the sheets with him, wouldn’t label her a SEAL groupie. But who said he wanted to get hot and heavy between the sheets with her? The man had merely said her name, for crying out loud.
Oh, for Pete’s sake, Lara, you’re thinking yourself right through the door of confusions-r-us.
She squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and turned. The smile she hadn’t yet allowed to waver was still plastered on her lips. Good thing, too, because he was headed her way and, the closer he got, the more her jaw wanted to drop. Holy hormones, the John Cabelly who’d visited her dreams had been the man clad in full battle fatigues with streaks of war paint on his face and barely visible in the darkness. By the light of day, the John Cabelly walking toward her now looked ten times more dangerous, more forceful and, God help her, more appealing than ever.
The deep breath she had taken a nanosecond before she’d turned stuck in her throat as her gaze took it upon itself to do a leisurely glide down his front. His khaki button-down shirt stuck to his torso like a second skin, delineating every muscle in his shoulders, arms, and abs, and making her head spin. The shirt was tucked into a pair of khaki cargo shorts secured to his waist by a gun belt and riding low on his trim hips. Despite the bagginess of their design, his shorts failed to conceal what was obviously one very impressive male package between his strong-looking legs.
Lara’s girly parts went haywire as her focus slammed into his black ankle boots and did a gradual climb back up. Wetness pooled between her feminine lips, threatening to soak the cotton lining of her panties. Her nipples beaded to hardened points inside the lacy cups of her bra. Lust zinged off every erogenous zone in her body as her gaze finally settled on his face. Dark sunglasses covered eyes she remembered being a potent light blue. Thin lips curved into a drool-worthy smile that rocked her to her toes. Sweat she knew had absolutely nothing to do with the growing temperature of the summer morning and everything to do with the intense heat of this supremely hunky male gathered between her breasts and trickled down her abdomen as she finally expelled the breath that had lodged in her throat.
“John Cabelly.” He extended a hand in greeting. “Island sheriff.”
Lara took his hand, forgetting to brace for the contact, and nearly melted at his feet. Long callused fingers closed around her hand. She stared at her reflection in the lenses of his sunglasses as her head swam. That simple, casual touch made her dizzy, intoxicated, as if his fingers came equipped with tiny needles that penetrated her flesh and injected her with a heavy dose of erotic desire.
“Lara Hampton.” Relief collided with the yearning in her system when her voice came out steady and normal rather than trembling and breathy, which was exactly how she felt. “But, you already know that.” And she’d already known his name. Did he think she didn’t recognize him?
His smile stretched wider. “Yeah, I do. Kenneth Winters informed me of your visit and asked that I stand in to welcome you to the island. He wanted to be here himself, but got held up in town.”
“Oh.” Disappointment twisted in her belly and she ruthlessly squashed it. So what if he had been here waiting for her on orders from his boss? That was better than him spotting her and wanting to say hello for an entirely different, definitely salacious reason, wasn’t it? She was here on a mission, to offer her support and use her popularity to gain positive publicity for the island. At the same time, she was here in hopes of finding a sense of safety for herself, praying her stalker would use her absence from the mainland as the time he needed to find a new hobby like her father had said. She wasn’t here to jump between the sheets with the first man she met on the island, even if said man had been invading her dreams for the last four years.
John released her hand. “He said to extend his sincerest apologies and to show you around the island.”
Yep, no doubt about it. John Cabelly was doing his island duty. She and all her girly parts were safe, at least from him. Especially seeing as how he thought she didn’t remember him in the first place.
“Thank you, Sheriff Cabelly, but a tour guide really won’t be necessary. I’m sure I can find my way around and I’d hate to keep you from your job.”
He pulled off his sunglasses and she got her first real look at the potent light blue eyes she’d remembered so well. The mere sight made her heart skip a beat and her mind retracted her earlier thought. No, all her girly parts were not safe from this man. They were in danger of serious lusty overload, whether she and John went their separate ways right now or not.
Those powerful light blue eyes steadied on hers and his lips thinned, his expression turning serious with a trace of molten heat that sent embers of need raining through her body. “You don’t remember me, do you?”
“You’re not an easy man to forget.” The words spilled from Lara’s lips before she could stop them. Shit. She should’ve said no. She’d meant to say no. If he’d kept on his sunglasses, she might could’ve pulled it off. But, the second he’d removed them, the instant she’d looked into his eyes, she’d felt herself fall under his spell.
His lips unfolded in their sexiest smile yet. It was the kind of grin that dripped with victory and promise and pure male satisfaction. “That’s good to know because I damn sure never forgot you.”
Oh, holy hormones. The way his voice softened, turning his words husky and hot, told her he wasn’t merely performing his island duty any longer. He was hitting on her and she was so screwed.
“Kiss me.” It was the absolute last thing she should’ve said, but she couldn’t stop the request from passing her lips. She wanted him to kiss her again. She needed to taste him, to share another of those world-tilting moments with him, and to let herself go if only for a minute. She knew she’d damn herself for it later, but as his lips lightly brushed hers, she couldn’t find the strength to care about that now.
Brandon kissed her and the ocean around them seemed to tilt. He kissed her and every thought raced from her mind. He kissed her and her body burned for more. She tried to get it by attempting to turn herself in his arms. She wanted to touch him as his tongue made deliciously sweet love to her mouth, but his arms tightened around her, holding her closer with a strength she couldn’t match. He managed to keep her that way, caged in his arms, even as his hands started to move. His hand on the front of her hip softly kneaded her flesh, the tips of his fingers brushing so close to her flaming pussy it made her whimper into his mouth. His hand on her belly eased up her torso, stopping when the knuckle of his thumb bumped the underside of her breasts, and glided back down.
Every cell in her body was hyperaware of his touch and even more aware of the places he wasn’t touching. Her breasts ached, her nipples beading to super-sensitive hardened points that pressed against the material of her bikini top. Her clit pulsed, the heat burning through her labia and snaking up her channel, coaxing cream from her that the water washed away.
She felt his cock, impossibly long and marvelously thick against the crack of her ass and the burn spread there, too. Her butt cheeks flexed on their own accord as if attempting to squeeze around his shaft. Desperation took control of her muscles, her senses, her entire body, the need to feel him inside her growing until she didn’t care which hole he penetrated as long as he fucked her.
He licked his way out of her mouth, his tongue raking down her pallet and the back of her top teeth before traveling over her top lip and cruising to her cheek. He nudged her head to turn with his nose, his tongue continuing on its path until it reached her ear.
“Brandon.” She breathed his name as he licked her lobe between his lips and gave it a tender bite.
“I want to touch you,” he whispered in her ear. “Can I touch you, Lara?”
“Yes.” The word sounded more like a breathless plea than a grant of permission as the fingers of his hand on the front of her hip dipped lower, pushing beneath the edge of her bikini bottom. Nanoseconds that seemed to stretch for eternity passed as he eased his fingers closer to her pussy, exploring the sensitized flesh of her outer fold with his callused fingertips.
“Mmm,” he sighed in her ear. “Your pussy is smooth. I like that.”
She liked it, too, though she couldn’t find the breath to tell him so. She’d never been so pleased by her decision to keep her pussy cleanly shaved until she felt his fingers roaming her flesh. She felt every bit of his touch without the coarse barrier of pubic hair.
Her head returned to rest on his shoulder as his other hand danced up her abdomen to her breasts. His fingers delved beneath her bikini top, pushing it up until he could cover one boob with his palm. She closed her eyes as a riot of spectacularly erotic sensations raced through her system. Between her legs, his hand turned to cup her pussy, one long and wide finger slipping between her feminine lips to press lightly against her clit.
“Please.” She gyrated her hips, grinding her ass against the solid rod of his cock practically wedged between her butt cheeks. The move drew a low rumbling moan from his throat.
“Please what, sweetheart?” He squeezed her breast and pressed a little harder on her clit, but his hand didn’t move further down.
“I want to feel you inside me.” Her head lolled on his shoulder as the need built a level that drove her straight to madness.
“Not here, baby. This water isn’t clean. You might get an infection if it gets inside you.”
Leave it to her Sweet SEAL to think about her health when all she could think about was him fucking her blind. Finger or cock, right now, she didn’t care which as long as a part of him was inside her.
“I bet, if I rub your clit just right, you’ll forget about needing me inside you.”
Lara seriously doubted that, but as his finger started to draw her clit in pressured circles, she knew she was in the arms of one very experienced, very masterful man.
“Does that feel good, baby?” His voice was hot and gruff in her ear.
“Yes. God, yes.” Pressure mounted in her core as he manipulated her clit in moderately paced rotations that seemed to latch onto her orgasm and reel it closer.
“You’re trembling. Don’t hold back. I want to feel you come apart in my arms.” His finger picked up speed, just a little bit, but enough to tug her orgasm right to the edge. “Come for me, Lara.”