A SEAL's Fantasy by Tawny Weber

flesh, holding her aloft.
    Lara’s eyes flew open.
    “What the...”
    Oh.
    Castillo.
    On the floor.
    Her hands crawled across his bare shoulders.
    Castillo, on the floor naked.
    Oh, my.
    Her blurry gaze locked on her hand, the contrast of her pale fingers against the golden silk of his skin.
    Yummy skin.
    Yummy, soft skin that looked as if it’d taste really good.
    Really, really good.
    Lara swallowed, wondering where all her spit had gone.
    She didn’t even have enough to wet her lips.
    Which meant she wouldn’t have any for tasting.
    Dammit.
    Her knees hit the floor, one on each side of blanket-covered hips. His hips.
    If she thought she could make her eyes focus, she’d have peered between their bodies to see if he was naked all the way down. No worries. She’d rather find out by feel, anyway.
    “Hi.” His voice husky, Castillo’s fingers tightened on her waist.
    “Huh?” she mumbled.
    “You were right. I didn’t fit on the couch.”
    “Eh?”
    She knew he was talking, but her brain just wasn’t engaging. It wasn’t sleep that was shutting her down this time, though.
    Nope.
    Lust.
    It was pure passion-driven, desire-sparking lust.
    Yum.
    Did he taste as good as he looked?
    She bent her head to his mouth, running her tongue along the seam.
    Mmm, he tasted mighty good.
    Good enough to make her hungry for more.
    “Hey.” He hadn’t sounded surprised when she dove onto his body, but he did now.
    “Hey back,” she murmured, wriggling a little to get more comfortable.
    Then, before he could follow that hey up with anything annoying, she bent again for another taste.
    This time she wasn’t in it for a testing little sample.
    Her tongue slipped between his lips, swirling along his before dancing back out to dance over his mouth.
    His fingers tightened on her waist. His body tensed beneath her fingers. But he didn’t respond.
    Oh, a challenge.
    Letting her body run the show, she slid closer, her knees angling down his thighs and her breasts pressed to his chest. Her mouth brushed his in a series of teasing kisses. Each one grew wetter, hotter, more intense.
    A response echoed in her body.
    But she wanted more. More kisses, more heat. And definitely more intensity. And she set out to get there.
    Her fingers scraped across the velvet hardness of Castillo’s shoulders, down the rock-hard curve of his biceps.
    Wasn’t he a big one?
    With a little growl of anticipation, Lara decided to do some exploring. Reluctantly leaving those delicious lips, she nibbled her way over to that irresistible dimple, dipping her tongue in before sliding kisses along the hard angle of his jaw.
    Oh, he was tasty.
    She used her tongue, sliding down his stubble-roughened throat, and hummed when she reached the curve of his shoulder. It was so tempting to lean in and cuddle. But she wasn’t a cuddly kind of gal, and there were definitely more interesting things to be doing.
    Angling her body because she didn’t want to give up her perch over the promising bulge beneath the blanket, Lara bit the chain around his neck, tugging it aside with a jingle of metal so she could get to his sexy man nipple.
    Yum.
    Now this was worth waking up for, she decided.
    Almost.
    Something was missing.
    Hot fudge?
    Whipped cream?
    No, that wasn’t it.
    It took a few seconds for the answer to penetrate her sleepy lust.
    He wasn’t participating.
    Oh, he wasn’t pushing her away or making gagging noises. His breath was coming a little faster, maybe.
    But he wasn’t playing.
    He was staring at her.
    That hard, distant military stare.
    Lara blinked.
    Yep, that’s what he was doing.
    Was that a part of their SEAL training? Have half-naked women climb all over them while they pretended to be immune and practiced their intimidating stare?
    “Morning,” she said after a few seconds when that stare got to her. She almost hunched her shoulders and apologized before realizing she didn’t have a damned thing to be sorry for.
    Hey, a girl wasn’t responsible