Page 4 of Stealthy Seduction
The moment passed, but the throb in Steele’s cock didn’t. He lost another hand, and every last chip he’d won ended up in front of Chase.
“I still say Alyssa’s feeding you information about our cards,” he muttered.
Con tossed down his hand. “I’m out. And I’m turning in for the night.” As he stood, he reached for Sophie, who was never far away from their leader.
Lucky for Steele’s wallet, the game broke up. The ladies drifted off with their men, and a couple of the single guys headed to the home theater to watch sports.
Steele stepped out of the dining room and caught sight of Izzy in the kitchen cleaning up.
He stopped. “You don’t have to do that. You’re a guest.”
Her gaze settled on his. Warm amber. Like the sunset over the desert.
She didn’t speak.
He stared at her for a long heartbeat. Before he knew his own intentions, he crossed the room and took her hand.
Her lips popped open in surprise.
“You haven’t seen my room yet.”
Her eyelids drooped over those smoldering eyes and then her stare fixed on his face. “Maybe you could give me a tour.”
* * * * *
Steele’s rough fingers closed around Izzy’s, warm and solid. The dark glitter in his eyes sent her heart racing and heat trickling into her veins.
Neither of them moved a muscle, but his gaze traveled over her face, her hair…down to her breasts.
And she couldn’t help but drink in the span of his broad shoulders just made for a woman to cling to, the sharp angles of his jaw…or the hunger in his eyes.
They were the color of steel, just like his name. Silver, gray, unyielding flint—the kind of eyes that had seen too much war and didn’t flinch when the world burned.
During the poker game, she had cataloged him the way she did a story, making mental notes on the man. Shit-talking Southern drawl, hands steady on the cards, mouth unsmiling even as his teammates laughed around him.
Hudson Steele was a fortress of a man. Solid. Impenetrable. The type you wrote about in clipped sentences, because no amount of adjectives could describe his mere presence.
And yet…when those eyes cut to her again, the air in her lungs stuttered. Heat flickered low in her belly, chasing out the cold that had lived inside her since Syria.
She told herself being alone with him was just research. After all, she was curious about the SEAL team based in a huge, rambling mansion nobody was allowed to visit without wearing a black hood.
But her pen would never put to paper the truth about how her breath hitched when Hudson leaned close—because the story she was telling herself about the man was far too dangerous to print.
She inched closer.
In one quick jerk, he latched on to her waist and yanked her flush against his chiseled body. She brought a palm up to rest on his chest, a gasp lingering on her lips.
“Hudson…”
“If you don’t want this, I’ll stop.” His tone was grit and Southern charm rolled into one enticing temptation.
Her breath came out in short puffs as her gaze fixed on his hard mouth surrounded by short brown facial hair sprinkled with threads of blond.
Her toes curled into the marble floor. “I want this,” she whispered.
The words barely rolled off her tongue before his mouthcrashedover hers. The kiss was brutal from the start—claiming, punishing and laced with the kind of hunger that didn’t ask permission.
He backed her against the counter and pinned her, hard muscles pressing into every curve until she had nowhere to run.
