Tawny Weber - Sexy SEAL Box Set - A SEAL's Seduction / A SEAL's Surrender / A SEAL's Salvation / A SEAL's Kiss

As delicious as two days of naked romping, rolling and rocking were, even rabbits had to take a break from time to time. Knees a little weak as she recalled their last naked, rolling romp, Alexia snuggled deeper into her silk robe and watched Blake scramble eggs.

What was sexier? A man in the kitchen whipping up something delicious and nutritious? Or the sight of him, jeans unsnapped and slung low on his slim, tanned hips. Oh, baby . Alexia sighed, propping her chin on her fist. The man’s body was a thing of beauty. Pure muscle, with not an ounce of fat anywhere. His shoulders were wide, his skin golden in the morning sunlight that streamed through her kitchen window.

“I didn’t even realize I had eggs in the refrigerator,” she said, her brain starting to awaken from its sexual stupor. She tore her gaze off his body to look at the counter between the condo’s living room and kitchen. Orange juice, toast, a bowl of grapes. “Did you go to the grocery store?”

“Just next door,” he said. “I borrowed some food from your neighbor.”

Then he turned, frying pan in hand, to face her. Alexia actually felt her brain sputter as it sank under the waves of sexual heat again.

“I’m sorry. I should have had something here to feed you. A guest having to forage for his own breakfast fixings? That’s a loss of major hostess points.” She felt guilty as she slid to her feet. His eyes narrowed, locked on her body, then heated. Suddenly aware that her robe was gaping open, Alexia adjusted it with trembling fingers. Her breath hitched. Her pulse raced.

She’d lost count of the number of orgasms they’d shared, the multitude of ways they’d pleasured each other’s bodies. She shouldn’t be reacting like this. So hot, so easy. Shouldn’t she know more about him before feeling so much more than desire? Shouldn’t they have spent a lot more time together, clothed, before she started wishing he’d be giving her Halloween orgasms and Christmas orgasms and oh, please, Valentine’s orgasms?

“I like cooking. Besides, you fed me dinner last night,” he said with a shrug, dismissing the guilty apology she’d almost forgot she’d issued before diving down the emotional rabbit hole of worry.

He divvied eggs onto two plates, added toast and pushed them across the counter. Alexia frowned at the unspoken command—the guy was good at that—but picked them up and placed them on the table anyway. She came around the counter to get silverware while he carried juice and fruit to the table and sat.

“I fed you leftover fettuccine and steamed vegetables out of a freezer bag,” she said with a laugh as she added forks to their plates. She pulled out a chair, but before she could sit, he grabbed her by the waist and swung her onto his lap.

Giggling, delighted, Alexia wrapped her hands behind his neck and tilted her head to the side. Her still-damp hair was chilly against her bare skin where the robe gaped yet again.

His eyes darkened to a midnight hue, narrowed with desire. She knew that look now. Knew the promise of it. Blake was demanding in bed. And in the shower. And on the balcony at two in the morning. Wherever their lovemaking took place, it was as if he grabbed inside her, took every bit of pleasure she could offer and then found a way to give her even more.

“I’ll bet eggs would taste good eaten off your belly, too,” he said, his voice low and husky against the sensitive curve where her shoulder met her throat. “Those noodles were pretty tasty that way.”

That’s what a woman got for not having a supply of chocolate and whipped cream on hand, Alexia thought ruefully. Cold noodles in gooey cheese and butter slurped off her skin.

She wrinkled her nose, ready to remind him what a failure that had been, tastewise, when he kissed her.

Deep, intense. Mind-blowing.

Alexia melted.

Slowly, her lips still clinging to his, he pulled back and arched one brow at his plate.

She wasn’t sure why she didn’t want to. She had no idea where the strength to resist came from, but suddenly it seemed like the most important thing in the world. She needed a little distance, she realized. Some space to get a grip on this...what? It wasn’t a relationship, was it? She didn’t even know his last name. Had no idea what he did for a living. It wasn’t as if the last two days had been silent. They’d shared plenty of words. It was just that most of them were in the form of directions, dirty talk or cries of ecstasy.

“I’d hate to ruin the taste of the eggs with the flavor of my body wash,” she said, giving a little laugh as if it was a joke instead of a blatant excuse.

Blake didn’t complain, though. Nor did he push the issue. He simply smiled, let her go and picked up his fork. He waited until she was seated before digging into the eggs on his plate.

The man was perfect. How was that possible?

It wasn’t.

She settled in her chair, the brush of their knees sending sexual tingles up her thighs to tease her still-quivering flesh.

“Where are you from?” she asked after a few bites. She was suddenly aware that while she knew just how much pressure he liked when she stroked him, and how sucking on his tongue made him crazy, that was about the extent of her knowledge. “Are you a California boy?”

“No. I grew up in South Carolina, but now I’m more of a nomad.”

She waited. But that was it. He didn’t expand, he didn’t explain. He just scooped up another forkful of eggs.

What the hell?

“A nomad, hmm? Does that mean you’re just visiting, or will you be around awhile?”

He finished the last of his eggs, then gave her plate a questioning look. Alexia obediently forked up some of her own while he munched on toast.

“I’m here for a while,” he said. “I like the weather in Southern California.”

“And we have great beaches,” she said with a smile, remembering where they first met. And, she quivered a little, where they first made love.

He didn’t smile back, though. His gaze darkened, then shifted. As if someone had slammed the book shut. The pain she’d sensed in the bar was there again, radiating from him like a silent sob of misery.

They’d spent two days sharing their bodies. Surely he’d share this with her, too.

She wanted to ask him what was hurting him so deeply, why he was hiding from it. Before she could find the words, he gave her a wicked look, then reached one finger into the jelly bowl and scooped out a dollop of glistening orange sweetness.

“Taste?” he asked, offering her his finger. “Your neighbor said it’s plum. Made from her own trees.”

Beneath the amusement in his eyes was a challenge. Purely sexual, totally tempting. She couldn’t resist. Alexia leaned forward, sucking the tip of his finger into her mouth. Yum. The sticky sweetness had a tart edge. As she swirled her tongue around, licking all the way to the knuckle, his gaze deepened. Intensified.

“More?” he asked, his voice husky.

Power, unlike anything she’d ever felt before, filled Alexia. This man had had her six ways from Sunday. He’d climaxed more times than she was years old. And he’d done it on barely any sleep. Yet just the swipe of her tongue, and he was all hot and bothered.

Totally turned on.

She stood, arched both brows, then unbelted her robe.

All it took was a shrug for it to drop to the floor.

“Gorgeous,” Blake moaned in delight. He leaned forward to pull her onto his lap, but Alexia shook her head. Nope, it was her turn to call the shots.

“Strip,” she ordered.

He grinned. Then, proving he was all for equality among the sexes when it came to loveplay, he stood, and in a few quick moves, had that incredible body bared for her pleasure.

Alexia dipped her fingers into the jelly jar, then smoothed them over his lower lip. With a delicate swipe of her tongue, she licked it clean.