Read Feeling Hot Page 20


  Jen practically purred with pleasure. “I could probably come just from looking at you.”

  Male arrogance hung from his voice. “You like looking at my cock that much, huh?”

  “God, yes.” She swallowed. “I wish I was as good at dirty talk as you. I’d tell you all the naughty things I want to do to you, how hot you make me, how badly I want you.”

  “Damn, that’s something I definitely want to hear. Come on, baby, talk dirty to me.”

  Ribbons of heat uncurled inside her, spreading to every erogenous zone in her body. “I want to lick you,” she choked out. “I want to suck on the head of your cock and feel you pulsing against my tongue.”

  He made a growling noise. “Do it then.”

  As her heart pounded at triple speed, she lowered her head and licked his shaft from root to tip. The heady, musky taste of him suffused her senses and made her head spin. She encircled him with her fingers and pumped slowly, continuing to lavish him with long swipes of her tongue before closing her lips around him and sucking hard. Sure enough, she felt the blood pooled in his engorged head pulsing on her tongue.

  “What else?” he said in a raspy voice that made her shiver. “What else do you want to do to me?”

  “Ride you. I want to ride you.”

  A strangled noise left his lips. “Do it.”

  Trembling wildly, she released his cock and climbed onto the couch. Rather than straddle him, she scrambled up his body and positioned her knees at either side of his head so that her aching core hovered over his face. “I want your tongue on me,” she said huskily.

  Cash didn’t hesitate. His tongue swiftly connected with her clit, spearing that swollen bud with absolute precision.

  Jen cried out in delight and grabbed onto the arm of the couch to steady herself. The satisfied growling sounds Cash made as he licked her teased her hypersensitive nerve endings. He feasted on her like a starving man, his strong hands digging into her ass, and she ground into his face with complete abandon. She should’ve been embarrassed by her obvious excitement, the all-consuming desperation, but her brain became a black hole void of all thought, any sense of decency forgotten. All she knew was that she had to come. Needed it, the way she needed oxygen and sustenance.

  But just as the orgasm rose to the surface, just as her muscles turned to limp noodles and her pulse grew erratic, she managed to wrench herself away from that talented tongue and stave off the release.

  Breathing hard, she clambered off him and flung an arm in the direction of the coffee table. They’d formed a habit of leaving condoms all over the apartment in the event that a crazy case of lust overtook them, which seemed to happen often. She’d tucked a condom underneath the Sports Illustrated magazine on the table and her fingers shook as she grabbed the square packet. Somehow she managed to tear it open and roll the latex onto his erection, and then she sat astride him, her breaths coming out shallow.

  “I should warn you, I’m going to explode the second you’re in me.”

  “I look forward to it,” he said solemnly.

  Sucking in a burst of air, Jen sank onto that thick, hard cock.

  She hadn’t been kidding. Pleasure blasted through her the moment he filled her, her inner muscles clenching even as they stretched to accommodate him. The orgasm sent her soaring into sheer oblivion. Gasping, she collapsed on his chest, her hips moving in a frantic rhythm as she rode out the release.

  When she crashed down from the orgasmic high, she felt Cash shuddering beneath her. His upward thrusts contained no finesse, just short, erratic strokes emphasized by his hoarse grunts as he came hard and fast.

  Sometime later, when their breathing steadied and their pulses regulated, Cash gently moved her off him so he could ditch the condom, then brought her body back to his and cuddled her close. She rested her cheek on his chest, sighing in sweet contentment.

  God, this felt good.

  It felt right.

  Apprehension gnawed on her insides when she realized where her thoughts had drifted. She tried to wiggle out of Cash’s embrace, but he held her tighter, his husky laughter tickling her forehead. “You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart. I haven’t gotten my cuddling fill yet.”

  An unwitting smile tugged on Jen’s lips, and she forced herself to relax, trying not to overthink this. Snuggling together after sex was perfectly acceptable fling behavior.

  But…yeah, she definitely needed to work a little harder on the not-falling-in-love-with-him part.

  Chapter Eleven

  Four days later, Jen’s confidence in her ability to control her emotions began to crumble. Keeping an emotional distance from Cash was proving to be harder than she’d thought, especially when the man seemed intent on being so wonderfully wonderful. He cooked for her, offered encouragement while she worked on putting together a portfolio, made her breathless with his kisses and dizzy with desire.

  They’d spent nearly every waking moment together, except for the night Dylan came over to watch football, but a follow-up to their threesome hadn’t happened—as incredible as it had been, Jen wanted only Cash in her bed. Thankfully, Dylan hadn’t seemed to mind that sex wasn’t on the table. Which didn’t particularly surprise her—she got the feeling nothing fazed that guy.

  “I get it, Mom. She’s unhappy.”

  Cash’s mumbled voice drifted into the room, breaking Jen’s concentration. She lifted her gaze from the laptop screen and spotted him pacing the hallway in front of the open bedroom door.

  “I’ll do it now, okay? Uh-huh…uh-huh…got it. I’ll email you later. Uh-huh… Love you too… Say hi to Dad.”

  Silence ensued, finally broken by a soft expletive from Cash, who entered the bedroom, sank on the edge of the bed and dragged a hand through his hair.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked. “What was that phone call about?”

  He set his jaw. “That was my mother.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  Jen waited for him to continue. When he didn’t, she rolled her eyes. “Come on, cowboy, spit it out.”

  “I…” He was gritting his teeth now. “I need a favor.”

  “Okay…”

  “I wouldn’t ask you this if it wasn’t important.”

  A million possibilities ran through her head. “Let me guess—you need me to serve as the getaway driver for the bank robbery you’re orchestrating.” She paused. “Wait, that makes no sense. Your parents are loaded.”

  “Right, that’s why it makes no sense.”

  “Fine, then you need me to…kill someone for you? Wait, no. You could easily kill someone all by yourse—”

  “I need you to take my picture,” he interrupted in aggravation.

  She gawked at him. “Seriously? That’s what’s getting your panties in a knot? Don’t tell me you’ve never had your picture taken.”

  Misery clung to his voice. “It’s not that.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “My birthday was last month.”

  “Uh, happy belated birthday?”

  Cash scowled. “I wasn’t done. Anyway, the team was OCONUS so I didn’t get to spend my birthday with my family, but my parents flew in for a visit a few weeks ago, and they brought a present my grandmother made me. Now she keeps harassing them, wanting to know if I liked it.”

  “What was it?”

  “A sweater.” He didn’t elaborate. “I called to thank her, but apparently she doesn’t believe that I like it. She’s demanding I send photographic evidence of me wearing the sweater so she knows I’m not lying.”

  “That seems a little…strange.”

  “She’s a strange woman,” he muttered. “Scratch that, she’s absolutely nuts. That’s one of the reasons my mom left home when she was a teenager. My grandmother has some issues. Serious case of OCD, gets hysterical at the drop of a hat, disapproves of anything she doesn’t understand. I’m not looking forward to spending the holidays with her this year, that’s for sure.”

  Je
n smiled. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We’ll deal with this picture problem for now.” She closed her laptop and climbed off the bed. “I left my camera in the living room. Why don’t you put on the sweater and meet me out there?”

  As she headed for the doorway, she noticed Cash hadn’t budged. “What now?” she asked with a sigh.

  His cheeks hollowed and she could practically hear his molars grinding. “Before we do this, you have to promise me something.”

  She waited.

  “You can’t laugh,” he said in a deadly voice.

  “I won’t laugh. What’s the promise?”

  “No, that’s the promise. You have to promise not to laugh.”

  She wrinkled her forehead. “Oh. Okay. I promise.”

  She slid out the door, hearing Cash’s low curses as he rummaged around in the closet. In the living room, she grabbed her camera and peered through the lens, snapping a couple of test shots to assess the lighting in the room. She adjusted the shutter speed and aperture, then fiddled around with the focus until she was pleased with the results.

  Five minutes passed and Cash still didn’t make an appearance.

  “You coming?” Jen called.

  Heavy footsteps thudded from the hall, then ceased.

  “I promised I wouldn’t laugh,” she told the empty doorway. “Now get that sexy ass out here and let’s start this photo shoot before I change my—”

  Her words died in her throat when he stepped out.

  And God help her, but even though she’d promised not to laugh, she couldn’t help herself. Doubling over, Jen laughed so hard she thought her ribs would crack open from the force of her convulsions. When she started wheezing, she clutched her side and dropped her gaze to her feet.

  “God, I’m going to pee my pants,” she choked out between giggles. “I can’t look at you.”

  She spun around, hoping that if he wasn’t in her field of vision, she could regain some semblance of control, but the image of Cash in that sweater had been burned into her mind, and the laughter continued to roll out in waves.

  “Thanks, thanks a lot,” she heard him mutter. “I’ll just go hang myself now.”

  “No, don’t. I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” She wiped the corners of her eyes and turned to face him. “I’ll be good now, I swear.”

  He tilted his head in the most adorable way. “It’s not that bad, is it?”

  “It’s the most bizarre thing I’ve ever seen.”

  She gave the sweater another long once-over, trying to fathom what the hell she was seeing. The sweater had been knitted out of pink and green wool, clearly handmade judging by the uneven stitching and lopsided neckline, and as if the pink and green stripes weren’t distracting enough, Cash’s grandmother had stitched an image in the center of the sweater. Jen suspected it was supposed to be Cash, since the disproportioned male figure wore a uniform. A red uniform. With a black helmet. And she didn’t even want to know what he was holding in his hands.

  She started to get slightly dizzy from all the colors flashing at her. Pink, green, red, black. She swallowed another gust of laughter. “Is that you?”

  His jaw was tighter than a drum. “Yes.”

  “Why are you holding a dildo?”

  Cash briefly closed his eyes, as if trying to talk himself out of murdering her. “It’s a shotgun.”

  “Why would a Navy SEAL carry a shotgun?”

  “Because she couldn’t find a pattern for an assault rifle.”

  “Oh.” Jen clamped her lips together to stifle another giggle. “And why is the uniform red? Are you supposed to be a guard at Buckingham Palace?”

  “Can you just take the fucking picture?”

  She was still chuckling to herself as she picked up the camera and aimed it at Cash. She took a candid shot, then glanced at the digital display and laughed at the stony expression on his face.

  “You have to smile for the next one. Otherwise your grandmother will know exactly what you think of her sweater.”

  For the next twenty minutes, Jen had an absolute blast ordering him around. She snapped far more shots than necessary, but she couldn’t help herself. The sight of tough guy Cash in that pink and green sweater was too tempting an opportunity to ignore. She made him pose by the window, in the living room, in the kitchen. Sitting, standing, striking a thoughtful finger-on-the-chin pose.

  But all bets were off when she tried to persuade him to lie on the couch in the ultimate male pin-up pose—that’s when he promptly grabbed the camera from her hands and announced he’d had enough.

  “We’re done,” he declared, then proceeded to strip off his sweater as if it was covered in ants. “And I’m officially never wearing this thing again.” To punctuate the declaration, he whipped the sweater on the couch. “Now, do you want to grab some lunch at the grill on 4th? I’m in the mood for a steak.”

  “At three o’clock in the afternoon?”

  “After what you just put me through, I feel like a juicy T-bone is the only thing that will reaffirm my masculinity.”

  Shooting him a sassy smile, Jen stalked over and cupped his package over his cargo pants. “Mmm. I could go for a juicy T-bone myself.”

  He rewarded her with a wicked grin. “Baby, I like the way your mind works.”

  “How about my mouth? Do you like the way that works too?” She dropped to her knees and unzipped his pants. He’d gone commando and his erection sprang out with an excited bob.

  Licking her lips, she dipped her head and licked a little circle around the head of his cock.

  Cash groaned, his hands immediately moving to tangle in her hair. His hips thrust forward, the hard length of him seeking her mouth.

  She swiftly pulled back. “Uh-uh, you don’t get any sexy time until you do one thing for me.”

  His eyes narrowed. “What’s that?”

  “Put the sweater back on.”

  Sadie Becker’s first birthday party was in full swing when Cash and Jen arrived at the Becker house the next afternoon. Becker and Jane lived in a modest, two-story home in Coronado, and though the house itself was smaller than most in the area, the backyard made up for that. The large, perfectly manicured lawn was big enough to house a decent-sized swimming pool, a swing set, an enormous pine deck with a table that seated ten, and a stone patio littered with children’s toys.

  Bright pink balloons hung from the tall wooden fence surrounding the yard, and tables laden with food had been set up on the patio. A few dozen people milled around the yard, most of whom Cash recognized. Stepping onto the deck, he and Jen dropped Sadie’s gift off with Jane’s sister, Elizabeth, a tall, slender blonde who looked nothing like her curvy, redheaded younger sister.

  Speaking of the curvy redhead, Cash immediately spotted Jane holding court by the refreshment table, chatting with a few women Cash had never met. She had one-year-old Sadie propped on her hip, and now there was a clear resemblance. The baby had a head of shocking red hair and big blue eyes just like her mother, but the expression of intense consternation on the kid’s face was all Becker.

  “Let’s go say hi to everyone,” Jen said, searching the crowd.

  Cash longed to hold her hand, but he resisted the urge. They’d already agreed there’d be no PDA today, or anything that would reveal they’d been sleeping together for the past two weeks. The last thing he wanted to do was get into it with Carson, not in a backyard full of people they knew. Besides, keeping the fling on the down-low was probably for the best, seeing as how it was supposed to end in a week.

  Supposed to being the operative words.

  Because no way was Cash letting this end. For the first time in his life, he’d found a woman he truly connected with. One he had no problem communicating with. One who captured his attention in and out of bed.

  Jen was the quirkiest, funniest, most amazing woman he’d ever known. He loved the sound of her laughter. Her sunny smiles. The way she left those yellow sticky notes all over the apartment to remind herself to do
things. And now she’d started leaving him notes—this morning he’d found a Post-it on the bathroom mirror, with Jen’s feminine scrawl saying, “Top of the morning to you, cowboy!”

  So yeah, he wasn’t ready to let her go yet. Not by a long shot.

  “Jen, Cash!” On the steps of the deck, Annabelle waved them over. Next to the brunette were Savannah Harte, Shelby Garrett and a woman Cash didn’t recognize.

  “Cash, do you know Mackenzie?” Annabelle asked, gesturing to the woman at her side. “She’s married to Will.”

  “It’s nice to meet you.” As he shook Mackenzie’s hand, he couldn’t help but notice what a knockout she was. Tall and willowy, with long black hair and blue eyes that sparkled when she smiled at him.

  “Will told me about you,” Mackenzie said warmly. “He said you were one of the most determined men he’s ever met and that you kicked ass during BUD/S training.”

  Cash hid his surprise. Will had actually said that? Receiving a compliment from the former SEAL, who was now an instructor on the base, occurred about as often as a solar eclipse. It surprised him that Lieutenant Will Charleston had mentioned Cash to his wife at all.

  “I had no choice,” Cash replied ruefully. “He was too damn intimidating. Every time I got tempted to quit, I pictured myself ringing that bell while the LT stood there glaring at me and I knew I couldn’t live with that kind of embarrassment. Is he here today?”

  Mackenzie pointed to the pool deck. “Over there.”

  He followed her gaze, instantly spotting Will. The mirrored Aviators and unruly black hair were a giveaway, but the menacing air the man had exuded during Cash’s training was missing. Probably because Will held a wiggling dark-haired toddler in his arms: his son, Lucas.

  John Garrett stood next to Will, also with his hands full; his two-year-old daughter Penny kept grabbing at the beer bottle in her father’s hand, which he kept moving out of her grasp.

  Garrett’s wife, Shelby, giggled when she saw what her daughter was up to. “She’s got a fascination with bottles of all things,” the blonde revealed. “She tries jamming all her fingers into the bottle like she’s digging for treasure.”