SEAL Wolf In Too Deep(37)



Ah hell. She pulled him down for more kissing so he could make up his mind, and they started out nice and slow and began to build the tension, the raw passion between them spiraling upward. The next thing she knew, he was fumbling in the drawer for a condom, pulling it on before she could help.

He went slowly at first, filling her to the max, and then began to thrust. He was so powerful and perfect. She loved every moment as if it were her last with him. Because, for all she knew where Allan was concerned, it could very well be, and she wanted to enjoy it.

*

Allan had never had sex with a woman who was this willing and then stripped naked privately underneath the covers. He wanted to toss them aside and prove to her that he thought she was beautiful and perfect, even if she had a ton of scars.

He loved the way she knew what she wanted and took it, the way she kissed him back just as thoroughly, seeming just as needy as he was. He kept reminding himself as he’d nuzzled her face and kissed her and stroked her that this was a momentary bit of enjoyment between a man and a woman. Nothing permanent.

Now she held him in her wet, warm embrace while he thrust inside her. He kissed her again, then continued to thrust deep inside her. When he came, he felt the intense exhilaration, and then a sense of peace descended over him. He kissed her thoroughly again, and then pulled out and left the bed to dispose of the condom, wash up, and return to her.

He slipped back under the covers and pulled her into his arms. She seemed a little surprised at first, but then she eagerly cuddled against him. This was the way wolves slept, nestled together, even if she wasn’t a wolf. He shouldn’t have stayed with her for that reason alone.

Still, Allan thought he could do this. Have sex with Debbie a time or two, and then give it up. He told himself he just had to get it out of his system. That once they did it, they would relieve the sexual tension that seemed to be hovering between them.

He kept telling himself he could control his urges better after that. Like eating a sweet slice of cake and satisfying that need. Afterward, he’d realize—and she would too—that sex between them wasn’t that big a deal. So why the hell did he want to do this again after they got some shut-eye?

*

After more hot loving a couple of hours later, Debbie said, “I need more dessert.”

Allan chuckled. “Okay. More cookies?”

She smiled back. “Yeah, unless you want something else.”

“I could eat the whole batch.” He pulled on his briefs while she slipped her robe on and tied it, and then they headed for the kitchen.

While they were having milk and cookies in the living room, she began thinking about the case again. “Okay, so the case of the dead woman looked personal. I really believe the killer didn’t murder her randomly. That he targeted her specifically.”

“Right.”

“Okay, so here’s another far-out theory. We’re assuming the guy in the car was a werewolf hunter because the gun in the lake had silver rounds. But what if he was a werewolf? The hunter lost the gun in the lake, so maybe the werewolf disarmed him and threw it in the lake. Then the hunter had to kill the werewolf using other means. He beat him to death, then staged the car accident as a way to disguise the murder.”

“But if silver is the only way to kill the werewolf…”

She shook her head. “Of course the victim wasn’t a werewolf. The hunter only thought he was. So he died by regular human methods. Werewolves don’t exist. I’m just trying to get into the head of the killer.”

But a shadow crossed over Allan’s face, and she swore he thought something she’d said had merit.

“What do you think?”

He smiled as if he wasn’t thinking anything about the case and snatched up another cookie. “One more for the road.”

Back in the bedroom when she made a move to slip beneath the covers before she pulled off her robe, Allan began kissing her, untying her robe and then slipping it off her shoulders. He wanted to show her in the worst way that she was beautiful to him. He wanted to see every glorious inch of her and revel in her. He didn’t want her feeling self-conscious about her scars.

As soon as her robe hit the floor, she tried to slip away to the security of the bed.

He held her face and kissed her again to show her she didn’t have to hide from him. With his lips pressed against her sweet, warm mouth, he began to pull off his briefs and dropped them on the floor.

He glanced down at the scars marring her milky skin—the small appendectomy one and two others. They had healed up years ago, but the two were long and wicked looking, not the work of a surgeon’s knife. He suspected that was the reason she had hidden them from him.

He leaned down to kiss a breast, his hand molding to the other. She was beautiful and perfect just the way she was, her dusky pink nipples growing rigid, her breathing turning rapid. He ran his tongue over a nipple and then sucked on it, moving over to the other to do the same thing.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, admiring her lovely breasts, her toned body, and even her pink toenails. Then he swept her up in his arms and carried her to bed.

In one fluid movement, he laid her down on the mattress and covered her body with his. He loved the feel of her hot, soft skin against his and the way he rested between her legs, his arousal nestled between them.

They began to kiss again, his tongue stroking inside her mouth, slowly and deeply, his body sliding along hers as she moved against him, making him all the harder.

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