Melting Ice (SEALs On Fire) Read online

  The material of his touristy Hawaiian shirt abraded her nipples, reminding Syn that while she was bared to him, Ice had yet to remove a single piece of clothing.

  To hell with that.

  Fisting her hands in the hideous shirt, she pulled once, twice, nothing. He pushed up slightly as she let loose a primal roar and pulled a third time, thrilled by the satisfying rending sound accompanied by the soft thud of buttons hitting her torso.

  His eyes closed, a muscle ticked in his tightly clenched jaw, and a harsh breath hissed from between gritted teeth as he struggled for restraint. God, he was magnificent. The sight of him fighting what she did to him, aroused to the point of pain and holding himself in check, ignited her like a match to gasoline. Her need for him redlined.

  Wrapping her arms around his neck, she dug her fingernails into corded sinew and bared her teeth. “Don’t you fucking hold back from me,” she gritted out.

  His eyelids snapped open, and that sharp gaze locked on hers, searching for the truth in her words. A frighteningly wicked grin slowly curved his sumptuous lips upward. “Fuck yeah, babe. Let it out. Take what you want. What you need.”

  She met his feral gaze, knowing she was courting trouble and diving in headfirst. “I want you, Sam. Every bit of you.”

  He tensed a little when she said his name, considered her for a moment then his grin kicked up, turned megawatt voltage, dazzling her. “You think you can handle all of me?”

  “Bring it, Master Chief.”

  Chapter Three

  Ice felt the thin veneer of civility protecting the rest of the world from the pure animal within shatter. She’d done it now—succeeded where all others had failed and pushed past the limits of his restraint.

  Syn wanted it all? He hoped she didn’t regret it in the morning because there was no turning back.

  He dragged the remnants of the shirt from his chest. Christ, she had no idea how much ripping at his clothes turned him on. Dragging her claws from his back, he wound the tattered material around her wrists and had her tied to the headboard before she knew what happened.

  Syn gave a hard tug, testing the bonds, but didn’t protest, and the glint of challenge in those big green eyes remained intact.

  “Mine,” he declared.

  She was getting every possessive caveman inch of him. He seared her soft skin with his heated gaze and thrilled in her whimpers as she writhed beneath him. She panted for breath causing those full, stunning breasts to jiggle enticingly.

  “Say it.” He needed the words. Had to hear her admit she belonged to him.

  “You’re mine,” she taunted.

  Every muscle tightened as his temperature rose, heated blood pounding within his veins. Continuing to push was a bad idea. Obviously she came to the same conclusion because Syn gave in to his demand.

  “And I’m yours.”

  Three little words and the hard shell of ice surrounding his heart melted faster than a Popsicle on the fourth of July.

  He gave her his weight, holding nothing back. Fell on her like a man starved, ravenous in his hunger, determined to devour her, take her into himself and make her a part of him. Cupping her breasts, he kneaded and plumped, squeezed her nipples between his fingers, tugged to give her that sharp erotic bite she enjoyed. Surrendering to whim, he pressed his face between the pillowy mounds, rubbed his beard-stubbled jaw over her sensitive skin and blew out a hard breath, motor boating her tits. Juvenile, yes, but this was him, raw uncivilized and off the chain.

  A hard nipple pressed against the corner of his lips. Turning his head, Ice sucked it into his mouth, drawing hard, taking as much of her as possible. He swirled his tongue, tasting each little bump around her areola before pinning her nipple against the roof of his mouth and raking his teeth over the distended peak. Keeping her breasts pressed close together, he moved between her nipples, licking, sucking, and nibbling her delicious flesh in a relentless barrage on her senses that had her hips rocking restlessly into him.

  “Ice,” she cried. “I need you.”

  Pushing up on his arms, he stared down at her flushed face, flashing his most devious grin. “You got me, babe.” She had more of him than she realized.

  Syn groaned. “Your cock. I need your cock. In me. Now.”

  “Oh, yeah?” He rose on his knees, popped the button of his jeans, and lowered the zipper. His cock sprang free, and he wrapped a fist around the aching length, watching her pupils expand with desire, that greedy green gaze observing his every movement.

  Walking on his knees, he advanced until he reached her shoulders then leaned forward, brushing the damp tip over her kiss-swollen lips. “You want it here?”

  In response, Syn sucked his crown into the wet warmth of her mouth, swirled her tongue around the ridge, probed the slit, and tickled the sensitive underside. Fisting the base of his shaft, he threw back his head, and a strangled sound erupted from his throat. Christ, she had such a talented mouth.

  He glanced down at her hollowed out cheeks as she sucked hard, attempting to draw in more than he gave. Too bad he had other plans and he’d have to deny her.

  As he pulled back, she attempted to follow, straining her neck. His cock left her mouth with an audible pop. Syn’s look of utter disappointment almost made him cave in and give her what she wanted. Feeding her his throbbing dick and letting her suck him off would have been so easy and felt incredible, but she’d pushed him too far for easy.

  Instead, he scooted back and settled his shaft into her generous cleavage, cupped the sides of her breasts and pressed them together. “How about here? Is this where you want my cock?”

  Her saliva coating him eased the way as he thrust, enjoying the lewd sight of his ruddy crown popping up between her beautiful tits with each forward drive. He could come all over her chest then rub his cum into her satiny skin, marking her with his scent. But the possessive act would satisfy him on a base level only. They both had to have more.

  Scooting farther down the bed, he lifted her long, slender legs, pressing them against her chest, which canted her pelvis in the perfect position to pound every throbbing inch of his cock into her tight cunt. Simply looking at the swollen pink folds glistening with her juices drove him crazy. An animalistic rumble started low in his chest, reverberated through his throat and erupted as a rough howl.

  He rubbed his shaft in her abundant cream, coating himself with her essence and lined the helmeted crown at her fluttering entrance. Ice took a deep breath, closed his eyes—

  Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep.

  The shrill summons from the pager attached to the waistband of the jeans still hugging his hips had a stream of virulent curses pouring from his lips. Not wanting to see the look on her face, Ice stared down at the point where his cock, notched at the gates of heaven, shuddered and started to deflate.

  Only four more months.

  The mantra echoed in his head as he released Syn’s legs and grabbed his electronic leash. As he scanned the readout, his curses became more creative and vile. He finally met Syn’s eyes, not surprised to see the green orbs had turned cold as she shook her head.

  “If you are going wheels up don’t untie me. I have no desire to end up behind bars for assaulting a SEAL.”

  Ice sighed, closed his eyes, and counted to ten, adding another ten for good measure. It didn’t help, frustration still raged within him.

  He opened his eyes to the erotic sight of Syn tied up and desperate to be fucked. The temptation to ignore the summons was nearly irrepressible, but he couldn’t. Not this message. One of his guys was down and needed an evac. A SEAL never left a man down.

  After tucking his wilted cock back into his jeans, Ice reached up and untied Syn’s wrists. “No, babe. Not wheels up. It’s Jonesin’.” And his former team member had picked Ice to call. No way would he let the man down.

  Her entire demeanor changed. Syn sat up, stared deep into his eyes for a moment and shoved him. “Then get your ass moving, sailor.”

  She’d always
had a soft spot for the team’s corpsman. When Jonesin’ had come back after long months of therapy with half his leg gone, replaced by a prosthetic, she hadn’t treated him with pity or as if he’d lost a damn thing. She’d walked right up to him, looped her arm through his, headed toward the waiting boat, and reignited their long-standing waterskiing competition.

  “Don’t think you’re getting any special credit for going up on only one ski. Hell no. Same rules apply, Jonesin’,” she’d sneered. “You’ve got to stay up longer than me if you want a shot at taking my twenty bucks.”

  Ice’s heart had done backflips in his chest as Jonesin’ stood a bit taller and some of the tension eased out of his shoulders. Regardless that he’d yet to attempt skiing with only one good leg, he took her challenge and upped the ante.

  “Twenty bucks, ha. Those were last year’s rates. The stakes are higher now, Synful. Gonna cost you double to watch me last at least ten seconds longer than you do.”

  She’d arched her brow and pushed for more. “Hell, why not make this really interesting. Stay up fifteen seconds longer than me, and I’ll make it fifty.”

  Jonesin’ had shot Ice a wicked grin and asked, “Is she good for fifty?”

  Ice hid his smile and teased, “Don’t trust her for a second, man. She earned her nickname the hard way.”

  With a conspiratorial wink, Jonesin’ turned back to Syn. “You’re on!”

  The corpsman had walked away with some of his old confidence back even though he hadn’t won the bet that afternoon. He’d given it his best and never backed down. Syn hadn’t gone easy on him either. She had bested her own record. And Ice had ended up loving her more than he’d thought possible.

  He brushed a quick kiss across her lips and climbed out of bed, fighting to hold back the declaration eager to roll off his tongue, offering his own taunt instead. “Get some rest, babe. You’re gonna need it.”

  Her brow lifted. “Promises, promises.”

  ****

  A layer of sweat coated her overheated skin. Syn shifted, kicking at the blankets. The air she breathed was thick and humid. Had the damn a/c died? She’d have to get up and turn on the ceiling fan.

  No. No ceiling fans. They freaked Ice out, sounded too much like helicopters.

  That thought brought her awake. Her eyes popped open as callused fingers pressed her thighs apart and a wicked tongue took a slow journey up one side of her slit, bypassing her clit, and gliding down the other. She moaned and bucked her hips in an attempt to get that tongue where it would do the most good.

  Anxious to guide her lover, Syn reached for his head only to be pulled up short by whatever he’d used to tie her wrists. An attempt to wrap her legs around his shoulders had the same result.

  Ice’s devilish chuckle washed over her in a cool gust of breath that failed to alleviate the intense heat blasting her core. “Sleep well, babe?”

  She snorted. I only sleep good when you’re in my bed.

  A contented purr vibrated against her pussy lips. Crap, had she said that aloud? Ice had a way of disintegrating her self-preservation instincts. Then she remembered why he’d gotten out of bed in the first place. “Jones okay?”

  Ice’s dark head lifted, his piercing gaze meeting hers over the length of her body. “Getting there.”

  She worried about the corpsman. Losing a limb was hard on any man. For a physically powerful and active SEAL, it was worse. Very few made it through the grueling initial BUD/S training. For those who did, acquired physical limitations could be devastating. But Aiden “Jonesin’” Jones was one hell of a tough, driven man. If anyone could bounce back, becoming even stronger in the process, it would be him. Still, she knew how hard it was for him each time the team deployed, leaving him behind and out of the action.

  “Hey,” Ice grumbled. His lips closed around her clit and sucked, driving all thoughts of other man right out of her mind. Lips, teeth, and tongue—all were used with devastating skill, consuming her. Syn surrendered to the pleasure he wrought on her soft flesh. His hands slid under her ass, lifting her to his hungry mouth, and he shoved his tongue straight up her pussy.

  She cried out as spasms rippled over the sensitive tissues, pulling at the hot tongue fucking into her over and over. Her hips bucked, and she squirmed beneath his assault as he determinedly lapped up everything she gave him then demanded more.

  “Don’t hold back from me,” he grumbled.

  Yeah, as if she could deny him anything.

  Ice’s attention moved to her clit, his teeth capturing the small bundle of nerves. His tongue lashed her pulsing nub as two thick fingers plunged into her pussy. He said something unintelligible, generating shockwaves that vibrated all the way to her core. At the same time, his fingertips located her sweet spot.

  Her thighs clamped on his head as every muscle tensed for a long suspended moment.

  “Fuck, yes,” he moaned.

  That was all it took. Syn sailed over the precipice, carried away by colossal waves of ecstasy crashing over her. He didn’t slow down. Continued strokes of his tongue over her clit extended her orgasm almost to the point of pain, and everything else faded away.

  Breath blasted from her lungs as Ice rose to his knees and hilted his cock in her still spasming pussy. Each panted breath delivered the intoxicating scent of their sex. Her muscles clenched and released as he slammed into her and pulled out. So deep, stretching her full.

  Ice belonged there, pounding into her again and again without pause, fingers digging into her hips, holding her in place, his pelvic bone grinding against her clit. Thrust by punishing thrust, his hips pistoned like a well-oiled machine, battering her senses. He propelled her back up to the brink and held her there at the edge of mindless insanity.

  His smoldering gaze bore into her, begging her to join him. “Again,” his raspy voice demanded. “Come for me again. Come all over me.”

  Bolts of molten lightening shot through her belly as her body followed his command. Her hips jerked frantically, and her head rolled from side to side between her straining arms.

  “That’s right, Syn. You’re mine.” He slammed into her with more urgency.

  She screamed as her world exploded, her body arching off the mattress, supported by only her shoulders and heels along with Ice’s firm grip. The shattering spasms ripped through her pussy, which sucked at his cock. She felt every ridge of his pulsing heat bathing her womb as he joined her, filling her with his pleasure.

  As she floated back down to earth on gentle waves, reality crashed over her. He hadn’t worn a condom. Ice always took care of that, was adamant about it. Terror spiked her blood pressure through the roof. Her heart raced, her head spun in dizzy circles as numbness made her weak and cold sweat shivered over her skin. She couldn’t breathe, and her chest ached with the complete loss of control.

  She wasn’t worried about disease. All the guys went through frequent, rigorous medical testing. And she wasn’t concerned about pregnancy since her birth control shots were up to date. What scared her was how this would affect the future she longed for.

  Reaching up, he untied her wrists, her arms flopping uselessly to the mattress. Ice took her face in his big hands. His intense eyes captured her panicked gaze, seeming to read her chaotic thoughts.

  “That’s right, Syn. No going back. You’re mine.”

  His arrogant smile ratcheted up the fear in her heart as she wondered what the hell being his meant.

  Chapter Four

  Sleek red fiberglass cut through vibrant blue water smoother than a hot knife through butter. Four powerful motors propelled the cigarette boat at exhilarating speeds, forcing the bow high and dropping the stern down low. From her spot lying on a cushioned stern pad—what the guys referred to as a bimbo pad—Syn savored the spectacular view.

  Shaggy jet black hair molded to Ice’s head and streamed out behind him. Wearing only a pair of low-slung trunks put more than six feet of sun-kissed skin and corded muscle on display as he piloted the craft. He was
blessed with a classic V-shaped masculine torso, those broad shoulders tapering down to trim hips.

  She never got tired of looking at him, especially when he was relaxed and in his element. A megawatt smile had settled over his sensual lips the moment he spotted this sweet beauty of a boat from the bedroom window and hadn’t disappeared since.

  How the hell was she going to say goodbye and live with never seeing him again?

  No, she wasn’t going to think about that now. Their day of playing in the water had been wonderful. She wanted to enjoy it, kick back, and live in the moment, cherish this special time while it lasted. There would be plenty of time to dwell on things later. An entire lifetime.

  Ice throttled back as they neared a no wake zone. He eased the boat under a bridge and up to a dock, powered down, and jumped out to tie down. She glanced at the patio of the waterfront restaurant, smiling when her stomach grumbled. Ice had to be psychic because he always knew what she needed before Syn did.

  She pulled on a comfortable maxi dress over her bikini and slid her feet into sandals. Ice met her at the starboard side of the boat, clasped his hands around her waist and lifted her to the dock. He slid her down the length of his body, her hands trailing along his sculpted chest. Too bad he’d put a shirt on or she would have gotten more enjoyment out of copping a feel on the way down.

  As they were seated, her cell chirped. She glanced at the caller ID and sighed. Reality calling. “It’s Karen. I’ve got to take this.”

  Ice nodded.

  Swiping her finger over the screen, she lifted the phone to her ear and didn’t even get to say hello. Karen was in full gripe mode. “Do me a favor and punch that big jerk in the mouth. You have no idea what I’ve been dealing with.” Her assistant prattled on about scheduling conflicts for the cover models, trying to talk to anyone official on a weekend, and issues with the city permit. Feeling a headache coming on, Syn pinched the bridge of her nose. If she didn’t shut her down, Karen would carry on for hours.