Tawny Weber - A SEAL's Salvation

Genna bit her lip, waiting.

Was he going to stop?

Did she want him to?

Before she could decide, before she could even identify all the feelings bombarding her, he swept her into his arms.

Oh, God. Genna melted, body, heart and all, as he carried her three steps to an old bench-style car seat leaning against the wall.

It was so romantic.

They fell together onto the ratty black surface, with her on Brody’s lap. He immediately rolled so she was underneath him. His mouth took hers again. This time it was harder. More demanding. He wouldn’t let her play passive. He wanted everything she had to offer.

As soon as her tongue ventured out, sliding into his mouth, he rewarded her by cupping his hand over her bare breast again.

She flew higher. His fingers plucked at her nipple. She swirled, stars crowding the edges of her vision. She mewed in protest when his hand left her breast, then purred as it cruised down to her jeans. Her heart stopped, waiting for him to unsnap the denim.

He slipped right past the zipper though, again, pressing tight against her aching core through her pants. The heel of his hand rotated and his nails scraped.

Breath ragged, Genna tried to figure out what was happening to her body. It kept getting tighter and tighter, curling around and around, spinning out of control.

His mouth, so hot and wet on her nipple, moved away. She gasped when he blew on the wet flesh. Then he bit down.

And she exploded.

Lights flashed behind her eyes. Her pants were whimpers now. Her body on fire. She arched against his hand, wanting more. Needing more. Her thighs pulsated, the flesh between them throbbing.

“More,” she murmured as she floated back to earth.

She slid her fingers into his hair, scooping it back off his face. He looked like one of those fallen angels. Too gorgeous to be real, too tempting to resist.

“I want more,” she said again. “I want everything.”

Brody looked as if he was at war with himself.

Before she could find out which side won, though, there was a loud racket by the door.

“Lane? Brody Lane? You here?”

Genna jumped so high, she was pretty sure she bruised her ass when she landed.

Passion fled so fast, it was as if it’d never existed. Panic gripped her belly in a greasy, vicious twist, making her want to whimper. She didn’t have to look toward the door to know who was yelling. She’d heard that voice every day of her life.

Ohmygod. She was so dead.

They were off in the corner, out of view of the door. Were they hidden enough? Maybe if they didn’t move, he’d go away.

Her eyes, wide and blurred by a haze of terror, met Brody’s. His face, so soft and sweet and passionate only moments before, was like granite now. His lips pressed tight, his eyes chips of gold. He looked scary. As though he was taking that threat seriously and about to go to battle for his life.

Genna wanted to reassure him, to say it’d all be okay. That this wasn’t going to be as bad as whatever he was imagining. But she was a lousy liar.

And that hadn’t been an idle threat.

And she was pretty sure whatever he was imagining had nothing on the reality.

’Cause they were seriously dead.

When the knots in her stomach did a sickening lurch from side to side, she closed her eyes and breathed through clenched teeth and prayed she wouldn’t puke all over Brody. Not that he was ever going to want to talk to her again after this. But still, that’s hardly the last impression a girl wanted to make on the guy who’d given her her first orgasm just before her father killed him.

Maybe if they stayed here, didn’t move, it’d all go away. Like the bad dreams she still had every once in a while. She just lay there, eyes closed, and waited.

The silence was broken by the sound of a shotgun chambering a round.

Genna gulped.

Waiting was probably out of the question.

Clearly in agreement with her brilliant assessment, Brody shifted. He didn’t wait for her to pull up her top, instead yanking the halter so high she was afraid it’d end up tied around her mouth.

Taking her cue, she reached behind her and tried, three times, to tie it. Finally she managed some sort of knot that included a lot of her hair and a broken fingernail.

As soon as her fingers cleared the knot, he stood. If she’d had a voice, she’d protest his hurry. Didn’t the guy know it was always better to put off ugly confrontations?

Genna stared at the hand he held out. The long fingers that, only minutes ago, had been teaching her what pleasure really was. At his impatient look, she grimaced and took his hand. He pulled so hard, she almost flew to her feet.

Midflight, she got a look at her father standing in the doorway.

Holy hell.

She tried to swallow, but couldn’t get any spit past the knot of terror in her throat.

Her entire body started shaking, but this time she knew it was pure fear. Knowing it was insane to touch Brody, but needing the support all the same because her knees had just turned to water, she gripped the back of his jeans, the fabric still slack thanks to her quick work with his zipper.

“Hi, Daddy,” she said, not at all sure he wouldn’t pull the trigger.

* * *

FOR JUST A BRIEF, blissful few minutes, Brody had come as close to happy as he’d ever been in his life. Heaven couldn’t feel as good as Genna Reilly did in his arms. And heaven, like Genna, was obviously not available to guys like him.

He should have known better. Hell, he had known better. Brody had to wonder when he’d finally learn. Anytime something looked too good to be true, it was. And a girl like Genna, she was not only too good to be true, she was so far off-limits that he was only surprised her cop father hadn’t shown up earlier. The guy had to have a warning alarm planted on her somewhere. Brody just wasn’t sure what’d triggered it. His hands on her body, or his lips on her mouth.

And it totally pissed him off that he considered both worth whatever price he was about to pay.

Teeth clenched, he eyed the shotgun. It was gonna be one helluva price, too.

“I’m gonna kick your ass,” Sheriff Reilly growled, fury radiating off the guy in waves.

Brody braced, feet planted firm and fists loose at his side. His body was wired tight, ready to dive to either side. He’d spent most of his life facing one attack or another. He figured at least he’d earned this one.

He didn’t wait long. The sheriff was on him in a flash. The guy was a lot faster, and in better shape, than Brody’s old man. They flew backward, trapping Brody against the wall right next to where Genna had stripped down and blown his mind.

“Daddy!” Genna jumped forward, grabbing on to her father’s arm and tugging. She was a tall girl, but as slight as a wish and no match for her muscular father when he shook her off. She fell backward, stumbling over Brody’s bike and sending the Harley crashing to the floor. It barely slowed her down, though. She was back and grabbing on her father, tugging and demanding that he let Brody go.

Apparently unable to effectively threaten and deal with his daughter at the same time, the sheriff spun with a roar, grabbed his daughter by the shoulder, swept the shotgun off the floor where he’d thrown it before his dive. He shoved Genna toward the door.

“Get the hell in the car, Genna Yvonne. Now. I’ll deal with you later.”

“You’re not going to hurt Brody. You can’t. He didn’t do anything.” Tears soaked her cheeks, but Genna didn’t budge from her position between her father and Brody.

“Don’t you dare tell me what I’m going to do,” her father growled, his face contorted in fury.

The cop raised his fist in the same move he’d pulled on Brody. Would he follow through? Rumor was that Genna was a pampered princess. Joe would have gladly outed his old man if the guy hit her.