A SEAL in Wolf’s Clothing by Terry Spear Page A

chocolate and a couple of specks of marshmallow. She wanted to lick the chocolate and marshmallow off his lips, but she resisted. He watched her, and she suspected he knew just what she’d thought of doing.
    Before she did anything stupid, she motioned for him to get back to cooking her marshmallows. “Some more.”
    He laughed in a deeply seductive way and then skewered another couple of marshmallows. “Hunter didn’t tell me you had a real sweet tooth.”
    “Hmm, I’m sure Hunter didn’t tell you a whole lot about me.”
    A smile lingered on Finn’s lips as he turned away to watch the marshmallows melting, browning over the fire, and almost ready to eat.
    “Well, he didn’t, did he? I mean, maybe that I’m strong-willed.”
    Finn took a deep breath. “He told us you saved a human girl once who had fallen into a swollen river. Nearly drowned yourself in the process. And another time, you took on a pack of hunters who were killing deer out of season. That you chased a purse snatcher, faced down the knife he was armed with, and still got the woman’s purse back intact without getting sliced to ribbons.”
    “It was instinctive.” Meara didn’t care for the way Finn was looking at her, just like Hunter would when he thought she’d done something foolhardy. She was a werewolf, and that meant she reacted instinctively. Well, because she was an alpha werewolf. A beta probably wouldn’t have.
    At least Hunter hadn’t known about most of the situations she’d gotten involved in because he was away on missions, either serving in the Navy or working on contracts after that. She just wasn’t the type of woman who could stand by and hope someone else would step in and save the day.
    “I don’t want you doing that here. While I’m protecting you, no heroics.”
    “Unless you’re the one who’s being heroic,” she said.
    “That’s my job. I’m trained for it. So yeah, let me take care of the bad guys, if the time comes.”
    She smiled. “Suit yourself.” But if Finn needed her help, she was not going to sit back and watch as if she was observing a gladiator fight and was strictly a spectator.
    He looked like he didn’t believe her. “I mean it, Meara.”
    If that didn’t sound just like Hunter! “I heard you the first time.”
    “Yeah, but you have that intense look that says you’re not going to mind.”
    She didn’t respond, watching the shape of his mouth as it closed over the last bite of his s’more.
    This time when he finished it, she boldly reached up and licked the chocolate off his lips. She could be just as brash as he was.
    Only she didn’t expect his next move. She ended up flat on her back in the sand as he maneuvered on top of her, devouring her lips, licking and kissing and gently biting as if he wanted to eat her all up. Ohmigod, she’d created a monster!
    His hands slid up her silky blouse, the palms massaging her breasts with such finesse that she moaned against his mouth. His tongue entered her mouth, probing firmly, his fingers tweaking her nipples, her crotch wet with desire. This so wasn’t happening.
    Yet it was. And damned if she hadn’t wanted it, too, from the first time she’d seen him leaving her bathroom, naked and towel-drying his hair.
    Now, he was so aroused that his stiff penis poked at her waist, his body thrusting at her as if it had a will of its own. She knew if she was naked now, he’d be inside her in a flash. She had the insane desire to let him in, to open herself up to his primal urges, to tame the sexy beast.
    But that meant a permanent mating, and no way in hell were they going there.
    He groaned and collapsed onto her. “You’re not supposed to look or taste or feel this damned good,” he said, his mouth brushing her throat, his thumbs still working magic on her swollen nipples. “Or encourage me the way you do.” He shoved her blouse up, and then her bra, and nuzzled a nipple first with his mouth, then licked and kissed it. The cold breeze