Rev It Up (Black Knights Inc. #3)(15)
Rock’s eyes shot to her face, one dark eyebrow rose nearly to his hairline. “I certainly do, ma belle,” he grumbled. “But I’ve learned most things I like tend to get me in trouble.”
“Trouble can be fun,” she heard herself retort and almost choked.
Who was this woman saying these salacious things? Certainly not her.
It’s official folks. I’ve been possessed by a demon. A motorcycle-riding, sexy-talking succubus apparently.
“Oui.” He slowly licked his lips, catching the bottom one between his square teeth before adding, “Trouble can be fun. Are you lookin’ for some fun, chère?”
Oh gosh, and whatever demon had momentarily possessed her suddenly vanished without a trace, leaving her flustered and tongue-tied and completely incapable of thought. The best she could manage was an audible gulp followed by the tentative lifting of one shaking shoulder.
Rock’s eyes darkened and a small smile played at his beautiful, beautiful mouth. “Well, when you figure it out, ma cocette, you know where to find me.”
Chapter Three
“So, are you seeing anyone?” Jake whispered, closely watching Shell’s face as the shadows of dusk settled over the courtyard.
She was quietly rocking her sleeping son and singing along to Rock’s rendition of some old Kenny Rogers song. And though Jake reviled all things country with the same passion as a kid reviles peas, he had to admit, he’d listen to Willie, Waylon, and the boys until the cows came home if it meant he could continue to hear her soft voice gently linger in the evening air.
Man, he’d missed her. Especially when she slid him a withering look.
She was the nicest, warmest woman on the entire planet. To his knowledge, she’d never missed one of the SEALs’ birthdays. She’d always been the first to send flowers to the hospital when they were injured. She’d schlepped through the crowds at the mall to buy extra civvies in order to save them from having to spend their blessedly few personal hours shopping. She’d memorized the names of siblings and parents and family pets and was the first to ask how Uncle Rupert’s gallbladder surgery went, or if Grandma Ivy enjoyed her Alaskan cruise.
There’d always been a hot meal waiting at Shell’s tiny, one-bedroom apartment for some hungry commando just back from a mission, or a pull-out sofa for some sloppy operator who’d had one too many to make it back to base under his own steam.
In short, she’d been home away from home. A safe harbor for the fighting men to return to after coming back from some of the hairiest missions of their lives.
But she could shrivel most men’s berries with that particular look of hers.
Luckily, he wasn’t most men.
“My love life is none of your business,” she muttered, pursing her lips until he got a very clear mental image of how she’d look with her mouth wrapped around—
Damn. It was way past time he took the advice of the venerable Young MC and checked his libido.
“So that’s a no,” he said, smiling and feeling some of his tension dissolve.
His mission to win her over was going to be a whole hell of a lot easier to accomplish without another man involved. And he was glad for that one small miracle because convincing her he’d changed and that she should take a chance on him would be hard enough all on its own, especially considering the last conversation they’d ever had, the one outside the base’s gates.
The memory stabbed into his brain like a hot knife…
It was raining. When she jumped from her car, yelling his name, she was instantly soaked. He felt such desire and rage in that instant. Because he still loved her despite the fact that she no longer loved him. And he knew exactly why she’d come…
“Jake, please!” she yelled, running up and grabbing his arm. “Can we talk?”
“I don’t have time,” he growled, shaking off her hand and ignoring her hurt expression. “This weather makes the brass absolutely giddy, and those sadistic bastards are sending us out on a training exercise in fifteen. You can call me tomorrow.”
“And will you answer?” she asked, her eyes wide and uncertain. “You haven’t the last fifty times I’ve tried.”
Yeah, well… “You know what they say, the fifty-first time’s a charm,” he mocked.
“Jake, please, I—I need to tell you something,” she said, pushing her wet hair back from her face. Her mascara ran down her cheeks in twin rivers, and he assured himself it was due to the rain and not tears even though her eyes were red and swollen.
Because what the hell did she have to cry about? Her life was turning out just perfect.
“I know what you’re gonna say,” he ground out. A crack of thunder split the already charged atmosphere, fraying his raw nerves.
“You do?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “And I don’t wanna hear it.”
“But I—I thought that—” She shook her head, her wet hair sticking to her cheeks. “Did Steven tell you?”
He laughed, but it had nothing to do with humor. “Preacher didn’t have to say a damn thing. It’s plain as day.”
“It is?”
“Of course it is.” He scowled as he swiped the rain from his face. “You’re trading up. The enlisted man for the officer. Hey,” he shrugged when she opened her mouth to try to defend herself, “it’s no big deal. You wanted to bag yourself an operator, and Preacher’s a much better bet than me. Not only is he in that advanced pay grade, but he’ll make an honest woman of you. And you know all I ever wanted was a piece of that grade-A ass.”