Heat of the Storm
Page 2

He shrugged out of his navy blue windbreaker and tossed it on the wooden bench next to the front door. Next he kicked off his boots. Drops of rain slid from his dark hair, down his rugged face and dripped onto the floor.
He strode into the living room without invitation. Not that he needed one. Will had always been welcome in her home and he was there often, filling the house with his comforting presence.
Tonight she wasn’t comforted. Tonight his presence was…different. Masculine. Passionate. Dangerous.
“It’s time we talked about what happened last week,” he said in that rough voice of his.
She gulped. “Nothing happened last week.” Darn it, why did he have to bring it up? She’d hoped that during the past seven days, while he’d been traipsing around in the jungle, he might have forgotten about it.
He tilted his head, those bottomless dark eyes piercing right through the lie and glittering with challenge. “I beg to differ.”
He moved closer and the spicy scent of his aftershave wafted into her nostrils. She inhaled it, nearly keeling over backwards as the sexy aroma surrounded her and grasped her senses. God, he smelled good.
“You kissed me,” he said gruffly.
“It was a mistake.”
“We both know that’s not true.” Another step toward her. “Do you know that this past week has been torture for me? You kissed me, Mac, and the next morning I had to get on a chopper, without getting the chance to talk to you about it.” He visibly swallowed. “The entire time I was gone, I was thinking of you. Aching for you. So don’t try to shrug it off, or call it a mistake. Because we both know it wasn’t.”
Warm hands cupping her br**sts.
A pinch to her ni**les.
Pain.
Pleasure.
Her thighs squeezed together and a gasp escaped her lips.
He was at her side in an instant, stroking her temples with his long fingers. “Hey, you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she squeezed out.
“What did you see?”
Damn it, why did he have to know her so well? She wished she’d never confided in him about the visions. Past experience told her that most people didn’t understand the visions. Hell, she didn’t understand them either.
What she did understand was that it scared people. Men, especially. Her former boyfriends had never seemed to be able to handle the visions. They fled the moment a particularly upsetting one hit her, looking at her like she was the angel of death or something. Though they vehemently denied it, claiming they were dumping her for an entirely different reason, she knew they considered her a freak.
And hell, sometimes she didn’t blame them. Sometimes, usually after seeing the death of someone she knew, she felt like a freak.
“What did you see?” Will repeated.
Their gazes collided and the fire she saw in his eyes sucked the breath out of her lungs like a vacuum. He was so sexy. Magnetic eyes, chiseled features, and a sexy body that looked way too good in a pair of faded jeans and a snug T-shirt. His job as a SEAL assured that he always stayed in shape, hard, sleek, and muscled. He was the best-looking man she’d ever known, and the one man she’d never allowed herself to get involved with. Her lovers never stayed in her life long. Her best friend, on the other hand? Well, he was always by her side.
But would he remain there if he knew her intimately? If they shared a bed, if she woke him up from sleep with her screams and tears after a nasty vision? Not to mention her complete inability to lose control in the bedroom. She wasn’t one to give in to self-pity, but when it came to relationships, she was a mess. A freak.
And it would crush her, losing her best friend just because she’d been foolish enough to f**k him.
“Either we talk about what you saw, or we talk about the kiss.” Will’s brows were drawn together in a frown. “Your choice, Mac.”
Neither. She wanted to talk about neither.
She edged toward the oversized leather sofa, hoping he’d take her silence and attempt at creating distance between them as a sign to back off. But the words back off were not part of his vocabulary and he only stepped closer, so that she was trapped between his big, hard body and the arm of the couch.
“Why did you kiss me?” he asked roughly.
She found the courage to meet his gaze. “I was upset about the break-up with Dan. And drunk. Very, very drunk. I…wasn’t thinking.”
He didn’t answer for a long while. So long that she didn’t think he would even reply. And she was right. He didn’t reply. Instead, he grasped her chin with his hands and then his mouth covered hers.
The kiss was scarier than the vision. The kiss was real.
She was helpless to fight it, though the relentless ache between her legs wouldn’t have let her fight anyway. Will’s hot mouth rubbed over hers in a slow kiss, his lips firm but deliciously soft, his fingers warm against her cheeks. He deepened the kiss, thrusting his tongue between her lips. He sought out her tongue and swirled over it, the taste of him assaulting her senses and making her knees wobble.
He immediately slid one hand to her waist to hold her steady, curling his fingers over her hip, his touch searing through the cotton material of her nightshirt and scorching her skin.
She couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. All she was capable of doing was sagging into his hard chest and drowning in those intoxicating lips of his.
The kiss grew harder, greedy, almost frantic. He licked her bottom lip then sucked it hard into his mouth, eliciting a whimper from deep in her chest. And his tongue…it was too demanding, too precise as it flicked over hers, thrust in and out of her mouth, mimicking what she knew he wanted to do to her with his cock.