Page 7 of Tempted by a SEAL

“Yep.”

Hunter grunted in amusement before sauntering across the pub toward the bathroom. A waitress walked by carrying a tray of sizzling burgers and fries—make that chips—and his stomach rumbled. He hadn’t eaten since lunch but could grab some food after they’d gotten eyes and ears on the men.

It was a damn fucking shame he couldn’t take those assholes out himself, but it wouldn’t exactly go unnoticed if he got into a fight in the middle of a crowded pub. His eyes swept around the area once more, and he nearly missed running into a beautiful redhead rushing the other way.

She was petite, barely coming up to his shoulder, and her fair skin and striking green eyes immediately drew his attention. Not to mention the swell of her breasts beneath the form-fitting, pink cashmere sweater she had on. The soft top hugged her curves enticingly, leaving little to the imagination. The fact that it fit her like a glove, yet didn’t reveal any skin, was intriguing. Normally he was all about short skirts and low-cut tops, but on her? An innocent sweater had never looked so sexy.

“Pardon me,” she said in a smooth British accent, her silky red hair spilling around her shoulders and her intoxicating floral scent filling the air.

“Ma’am,” he said, his fingers just grazing her forearm to steady her.

“You’re American,” she said in surprise, pulling her arm away.

He quirked a brow. “How could you tell that from one word?”

Hell, if he didn’t already miss the feel of her delicate arm beneath his fingers. He wanted to run his hands all over that soft cashmere and feel her soft, feminine curves beneath it. Trace his thumb over those full pink lips. Crowd into her space and pull her close.

“It’s not common in England. Besides, most English men I know aren’t nearly as tall as you. And they wouldn’t go about manhandling me that way.”

Hunter guffawed. “You almost fell over when you ran into me. Where’s the fire? The way you were tearing through here there must be one somewhere.”

“I most certainly did not run into you,” she said haughtily.

“And what’s preferable to ‘ma’am’ anyway? Would ‘princess’ work for you?”

“To be perfectly clear, you almost ran into me,” she corrected him, her green eyes sparking. “You were looking around, probably at some other woman, like a typical man, and nearly plowed into me.”

Hunter smirked. Hell yeah he’d love to plow into her—probably not in the manner she meant though.

“My apologies from preventing you from falling flat on your face.”

“That’s the worst apology I’ve ever heard.”

He crossed his arms. “That’s because I don’t have anything to apologize for.”

“Excuse me,” she huffed indignantly.

Her breasts just grazed against his bicep as she turned to slide by him, evidently ending the conversation, and his groin tightened. She was so damn soft, he couldn’t help but imagine all those curves pressing up against him.

Her soft breasts rubbing against his muscular chest. Her small hands clinging to him as he claimed her. Her pink lips whispering in that sexy-as-fuck accent in his ear.

Why did British women seem so damn irresistible?

He loved the idea of some English chick whispering naughty words to him. It must be like the sexy librarian fantasy all guys had—some prim and proper looking, beautiful woman turning into a sex goddess when a man took her to bed.

Coming alive beneath his solid, muscular frame. Whimpering as he made her orgasm again and again. Begging him for mercy he penetrated her, drawing out her pleasure for as long as possible until she screamed out his name in surrender. Until her tight pussy clenched again and again around his throbbing cock.

Unable to resist, he glanced back over his shoulder, watching her sweet ass sashay back and forth as she walked away in those sexy-as-fuck tight jeans.

Hell, she was a looker.

And he couldn’t resist one last taunt.

“American men are big all over, princess.”

She looked back at him, her face flushing. He couldn’t tell if it was in anger or arousal, but then she retorted, “Arrogant prick.”

He chuckled, his eyes drifting lower to her heart-shaped ass, clad in that tight denim. Damn if he didn’t want to have a closer inspection of those sweet curves.

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