D angerous , diabolical, and drop-dead sexy Mitch stood above me, stroking his huge, hard cock. Millions of women would kill to be in my position right now, pinned down on this red velvet bed, the object of lust by a fine-ass Navy SEAL.
But not me, and not this SEAL. My heart belonged to another man, Mitch’s Teammate, Grant.
Bile built in my throat. I couldn’t stop staring at the scar near Mitch’s hipbone. The deep dark, divot—a mark I was certain I’d been the one to inflict. Every cell in my body screamed at me that he had been the one who’d attacked me years ago.
I’d vowed this would not happen to me again, training for six months to be able to defend myself from any type of attack. But bringing down a Navy SEAL? Even the most well-oiled warriors were no match for these frogmen.
I steadied my breath and my eyes darted around the dimly lit room. The green neon exit sign beckoned me toward it, but running out of this club wasn’t an option. And Grant wasn’t going to swoop in and save me this time. The way I figured it, I had two options: gouge Mitch’s eyes out—not simply poke them, but blind the motherfucker by ripping his pupils from the sockets—or somehow use the only weapon I had, my brain.
“Mitch, handsome devil, what it is the rush? We have together all night. I tell to you what—let me dance for you, let me turn you on, let me be pleasing to you.”
His eyes narrowed, and his hand reached around my neck. I wasn’t sure if he was going kiss me or choke me.
“I’ve already seen you dance.” He pulled me to him, and fisted my hair. “Now get on your knees and suck my cock.”
Fuck. I had to think fast. I’d rather take a bullet in my brain than give Mitch head. “I—I have to go to bathroom.”
He released my hair. “Fine. Hurry up.”
I stumbled to the bathroom, and rummaged through my purse. Cell phone, wallet, tissues, gum, switchblade. Switchblade? Stabbing Mitch was out of the question—every SEAL knew three hundred ways to kill an enemy. He’d disarm me in a second. I released the blade from the case, the shiny metal beckoning me. I could end my pain tonight—the sorrow from losing everyone who’d ever mattered to me: my parents, my baby, my brother, Grant. But I would see this through—or die trying.
But I couldn’t resist the call of the knife. I needed to feel, I needed to punish myself for my mistakes, for hurting Grant. I plunged the tip of the blade into my index finger, the blood oozing out. I took my finger and tasted a droplet. Coppery, warm, slightly sweet.
Blood. Bingo.
I squeezed some more droplets out of my finger like I was Seymour in Little Shop of Horrors . After smearing the blood on the inside of my panties, I sucked on my finger until the bleeding stopped, and then rinsed it in cold water. I walked back out to break the bad news to Mitch.
Mitch was sitting up on the bed. I took a moment to stare at him—he looked absolutely beautiful. So masculine, so ripped. But to me, he was the most revolting man in the world.
I knelt before him, glanced up and batted my eyelashes. “I cannot wait to be together with you. But tonight is no good. It is time of month and I want to be sexy for you.”
He shook his head. “Don’t care, baby doll. Your mouth still works. Besides, you’ve probably figured out that I’m a goddamn Navy SEAL, just like your fuck buddy, Grant. I’d love to get your war paint all over my face.”
Oh my god! Did he just say that? No guy is actually into that, right? What a freak!
I gently caressed his face, and kissed his lips. A slow, sweet kiss, pretending he was Grant. “Mitch. I want it to be special. I only want to be together with you.” Okay, here goes the Hail Mary pass. “Grant and me, we never have been together, with the sex. I have only been together with one man.” I laid it on thick. Men loved being told they were the chosen ones. Suckers.
His eyes lit up. “Really, baby doll? Don’t play me. You’re a
But not me, and not this SEAL. My heart belonged to another man, Mitch’s Teammate, Grant.
Bile built in my throat. I couldn’t stop staring at the scar near Mitch’s hipbone. The deep dark, divot—a mark I was certain I’d been the one to inflict. Every cell in my body screamed at me that he had been the one who’d attacked me years ago.
I’d vowed this would not happen to me again, training for six months to be able to defend myself from any type of attack. But bringing down a Navy SEAL? Even the most well-oiled warriors were no match for these frogmen.
I steadied my breath and my eyes darted around the dimly lit room. The green neon exit sign beckoned me toward it, but running out of this club wasn’t an option. And Grant wasn’t going to swoop in and save me this time. The way I figured it, I had two options: gouge Mitch’s eyes out—not simply poke them, but blind the motherfucker by ripping his pupils from the sockets—or somehow use the only weapon I had, my brain.
“Mitch, handsome devil, what it is the rush? We have together all night. I tell to you what—let me dance for you, let me turn you on, let me be pleasing to you.”
His eyes narrowed, and his hand reached around my neck. I wasn’t sure if he was going kiss me or choke me.
“I’ve already seen you dance.” He pulled me to him, and fisted my hair. “Now get on your knees and suck my cock.”
Fuck. I had to think fast. I’d rather take a bullet in my brain than give Mitch head. “I—I have to go to bathroom.”
He released my hair. “Fine. Hurry up.”
I stumbled to the bathroom, and rummaged through my purse. Cell phone, wallet, tissues, gum, switchblade. Switchblade? Stabbing Mitch was out of the question—every SEAL knew three hundred ways to kill an enemy. He’d disarm me in a second. I released the blade from the case, the shiny metal beckoning me. I could end my pain tonight—the sorrow from losing everyone who’d ever mattered to me: my parents, my baby, my brother, Grant. But I would see this through—or die trying.
But I couldn’t resist the call of the knife. I needed to feel, I needed to punish myself for my mistakes, for hurting Grant. I plunged the tip of the blade into my index finger, the blood oozing out. I took my finger and tasted a droplet. Coppery, warm, slightly sweet.
Blood. Bingo.
I squeezed some more droplets out of my finger like I was Seymour in Little Shop of Horrors . After smearing the blood on the inside of my panties, I sucked on my finger until the bleeding stopped, and then rinsed it in cold water. I walked back out to break the bad news to Mitch.
Mitch was sitting up on the bed. I took a moment to stare at him—he looked absolutely beautiful. So masculine, so ripped. But to me, he was the most revolting man in the world.
I knelt before him, glanced up and batted my eyelashes. “I cannot wait to be together with you. But tonight is no good. It is time of month and I want to be sexy for you.”
He shook his head. “Don’t care, baby doll. Your mouth still works. Besides, you’ve probably figured out that I’m a goddamn Navy SEAL, just like your fuck buddy, Grant. I’d love to get your war paint all over my face.”
Oh my god! Did he just say that? No guy is actually into that, right? What a freak!
I gently caressed his face, and kissed his lips. A slow, sweet kiss, pretending he was Grant. “Mitch. I want it to be special. I only want to be together with you.” Okay, here goes the Hail Mary pass. “Grant and me, we never have been together, with the sex. I have only been together with one man.” I laid it on thick. Men loved being told they were the chosen ones. Suckers.
His eyes lit up. “Really, baby doll? Don’t play me. You’re a
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