To Dare a SEAL (Sin City SEALs) by Sara Jane Stone

the high until—
    It stopped. Natalie opened her eyes and glanced down at the large warrior panting at her feet. His biceps bulged, his muscles working overtime to keep her upright.
    “I win,” he murmured.
    “What?” She fought to collect her thoughts. Her body hummed with the aftershocks of an orgasm that put her vibrator to shame, and he thought he’d won?
    “The dare,” he reminded her.
    She stumbled back, out of his reach, and focused on staying upright. She refused to melt into a puddle in front of him. And she sure as hell wasn’t going to leave him feeling like he’d come out on top.
    He thought he’d won? No. The battle had only just begun.
    She placed her hands on her hips. “Time to hand over your boxers, Jack.”

Chapter Twelve
    J ack could go from zero to sixty when he received an order. Part of it was training. But right now, desire drove him to pull his T-shirt over his head and toss it aside. He kicked his shoes away as he stripped off his cargo shorts. When it came to getting naked, he generally issued the commands. But he’d heard the tremor in Natalie’s voice, and he knew that she needed him to obey.
    She’d raised her defenses again. Her walls were up. And if he failed to follow orders—if he failed to show her she was still in control—she might fall apart. Or worse—bolt for the hall. He had a hunch she’d literally slam the door in his face rather than leave her weakness, the one point that made her vulnerable, visible for everyone to see.
    She liked him.
    And he had a hunch that scared the hell out of her.
    So he’d try his best to do as she asked, but—
    “Forgot to pack your underwear?” she murmured, her gaze fixed on the one part of his body that desperately wanted to keep her on his side of the door. “You travel so much for work that I figured you had it down.”
    He laughed. Travel for work? That was one way to look at his deployments to parts of the world most Americans would place dead last on their future vacation wish lists.
    “I skipped the boxers—and the briefs—after our swim,” he said. “I hope you’re not disappointed.”
    Her gaze met his. While his dick missed being her focal point, he liked the humor he saw in her big brown eyes.
    “I’m crushed,” she said, her voice heavy with sarcasm. “I was planning to use your boxers as a pillow while I knelt down and took your cock in my mouth.”
    “How about my shirt? Or a couch cushion? Hell, we could move to the chairs,” he said, quickly playing through every alternative. They could skip straight to plan Z as long as it ended with her lips wrapped around him.
    “How about this?” Her voice was so damn sexy that his balls drew up, wishing to be closer to her. And yeah, she was clearly on the same page. She bent at the waist and lowered her mouth to his crotch.
    “Jesus,” he said as she placed her hands on his hips. She wasn’t using him for balance despite the fact that her position looked like a picture out of a Blow Jobs for Yoga Instructors book. No, she was holding him in place. Like he would move away from the scene playing out in front of him.
    “Place your hands behind your head,” she said, her lips close enough to lick the drops of liquid beading at the tip of his dick.
    “Yes, ma’am.” He’d never uttered those words to a woman on the verge of rocking his world. But staring at the way Natalie’s back formed a long line, and shit, the way her legs remained stick straight, thrusting her ass up—he’d do just about anything to keep her here. So he raised his arms and interlaced his fingers behind his head.
    “Do you dare me to make you come? To leave you screaming my name?” she challenged, rising up on her tiptoes as if she’d stepped into a pair of skyscraper heels. And the effect on her ass, thrust higher into the air—
    “Yes.” He managed the one word through clenched teeth. Because if she didn’t take him into her mouth soon…hell, he might explode just from