Page 38 of Hazard

She started to tremble deep down inside, her body shaking, and a hand went around her wrist, and in a lightning-quick move, he took her down to the mattress with a hard, forceful move, straddling her hips, and a strong arm going to her throat with just enough pressure to keep her immobilized, the other pressing the gun against the mattress so that she couldn’t use it. How did he do that so effortlessly? She hadn’t heard a thing.

With a fierce expression on his face, he looked ready to do mayhem and murder. SEALs were direct-action guys. When they assaulted, unless the mission required them to capture a target, they went in and didn’t ask questions or take names, they just annihilated anything that moved. She had no doubt he could crush her windpipe.

But she didn’t fear him. Not at all. Not all that hot, hard muscle he had in his control. He’d made such an effort to talk to her instead of dismissing her as a mouthy woman with nothing of importance to say, and he came for her, not because it was his job, but because he cared about her. His hair was tousled around his head, and he hadn’t shaved for a couple of days. He looked not only exhausted but dark and dangerous, as well.

“Hazard,” she whispered.

He jolted and his eyes widened. His whole body vibrated with aggression just waiting for a reason to snap. “Leigh? What the actual fuck!” he said, his voice rough-edged. She wanted to feel calm. But she felt unbalanced, needy, and raw, and the question about how she would react when he was pressing his weight against her was answered.

Hot and bothered. A knot of need expanding.

“Are you okay?” He released her hand, stripping the gun from her, racking the slide, and ejecting the bullet in the chamber, then he released the mag and it dropped into his hand. It was sexy as hell to see how effortlessly he handled the gun. He set everything on the nightstand, once again turning to her.

“N-no,” she managed to croak out. She wasn’t okay. She was frustrated, half-scared out of her mind from nightmares, sleep-deprived, and she wanted him. That knot in her stomach started to twist and turn feverishly. God, how she wanted him.

“Fuck!” he growled, immediately contrite to the point of pain. “Did I hurt you?” He started to get off her, but now that she was free, she reached up and twined her arms around him, keeping his body on top of hers.

“Don’t,” she whispered, and he stilled. “I’m not physically hurt, Hazard.”

“Geezus, Leigh,” he bit out, guarded emotions flickering through those silver-blue depths. “Why the hell did you have my gun?” His question was gruff and demanding.

“Archer,” she breathed, not sure what to say for pushing him to this extreme, but unable to regret it. She exhaled a deep breath and, more calmly than she felt, said, “I don’t know.”

His expression was a mixture of incredulity and anger. “You don’t know why you were standing there fondling my weapon?”

Her breath caught in her throat at his use of words. Why did he say it like that? She couldn’t help her response, experiencing the arousing chemistry that sparked between them whenever they were near one another. All those heated glances and unspoken desires. It was time to end it all. “Well, if you put it like that, I have thought of nothing but fondling your weapon. I think you want that, too.”

His eyes narrowed, but she saw him swallow hard. “Don’t change the goddamn subject.” A muscle in his cheek ticked, and he pressed his thumb against the rapid beat of the pulse in her wrist. His intense eyes bored into her, searing her with all that blue fire. His hot, dark gaze raked over her as though she was wearing something see-through and provocative. After a lengthy, and very slow and intense study of her body, his dazed eyes finally came back to her face. “What were we talking about?” he asked huskily, before his disorientation was chased away with a scowl.

He was so adorably cute in his aroused male confusion, his desire working hard to distract him from simple speech. She smiled with affection, happy that she was able to slide into this sex talk, even if he was trying to keep things on track. She wanted him derailed. “Fondling your weapon.” She swallowed hard and glanced down, following that tantalizing tawny line of hair that bisected his abdomen, swirled around his naval, and arrowed down to his groin. The material of his boxer brief shorts, a decadent black, started to expand.

“Are you trying to make me hard?” he asked on a ragged breath. “What am I talking about? You always make me hard as fuck without even trying.”

Hard as fuck. God that sounded so good. The heat and male scent of him overwhelmed her thoughts, arousing her body, and creating a heavy, tingling sensation between her thighs. He sounded so annoyed with himself and with her. Arguments and confrontations always seemed to end up this way with him. Maybe that’s why she liked goading him so much.

“I’m a simple guy, babe. I’m trying to be sensitive to your needs right now after what you’ve been through. Help me out here.”

Mesmerized by the look in his eyes, she somehow managed to swallow, her voice so uneven it didn’t sound like her own. “I’m at a loss, too, Hazard. I’ve been so tough, so tough that I’m lost.”

Hazard slid his fingers along her neck, his touch making her shiver, then he rubbed his thumb against her frantically beating pulse point. “I understand internal armor, Leigh, and this is such a bad idea for us professionally, but I’m finding it very difficult to step away.”

That admission did unbearable things to her heart, and she closed her eyes against the sudden fullness in her chest.

Hazard shifted his hold, taking her face in his hands. “Look at me, babe,” he whispered. “I need you to look at me.” Feeling as if she was drowning, she opened her eyes, drugged by sensation, paralyzed by his touch. He stared at her, his expression strained. “You weren’t trying to hurt yourself with my gun, were you?”

“What?” she asked, startled. “No, I wanted to feel the power of it. That’s all.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, searching deeply into her eyes. “That would kill me, babe.” The look in his eyes made her heart pound and all her nerve endings flare. His grip turned urgent and tense, almost desperate. “Tear out my heart and leave me broken.” There was a flare of emotion in his eyes, and he tightened his grip on her face and slowly, so slowly, stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. “So, promise me,” he whispered roughly. “You’ll never hurt yourself. We can get through this together.”

Leigh closed her eyes and drew a shaky breath, trying to understand the feelings inside her. His admission…his words made it clear that he was one hundred percent on her side. It was so alien, so strange to feel as if she had someone in her ring, knowing that if she won or got knocked out, it didn’t matter.

“I promise, Archer. I swear.” She was trembling so hard and the only thing that kept her together was the tight grip he had on her face. Unable to take the unbearable pain and torment in his eyes, the guilt of her kidnapping and assault weighing on him. She didn’t have to guess at that agony. With a soft cry, she lifted and locked her arms around his torso, closing her eyes against the deep emotion he was radiating, the feel of him setting off a new fever of sensation. His chest expanded, and she could almost feel his relief at her words. Tucking her face against the curve of his throat, he drew her firmly against him and smoothed back her hair, his touch not quite steady when he kissed the curve of her neck.

Tightening her arms around him, Leigh pressed her face deeper against his neck, feeling as if she were on the verge of shattering. Her voice catching on raw emotion, she struggled to get out the words. “I just can’t stop wanting to be near you, to touch you, to be with you. I’m hurting from wanting you.” Wow, talk about really putting herself out there, way out on a limb. The silence was deafening. Was that the sound of it cracking?

He didn’t reply, just remained quiet, emanating a sexual kind of tension that seemed to increase with each passing second between them.

He scrubbed a hand along his taut jaw, his defenses flaring again. “You are the bane of my existence, and every testosterone-laden need I’ve had since I hit puberty is focused on you,” he muttered.

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