Page 109 of Dangerous Games (Tempting SEALs 2)

"You're late." Slender arms crossed over those heaving mounds as her irritated voice snapped through his lust-dazed senses.

"I see you got the cat." He cleared his throat, watching Morganna carefully.

Her eyes were storm-dark, fierce, and narrowed. Her pouty lips were thinned, her cheeks flushed. Oh, she was pissed. Pissed he could deal with.

"And tonight, I'm going to find a redneck," she snapped back at him. "I'm done with you, Clint. Go away." She waved him away with a mocking little flip of her hand. "Me and Kitty Chesney have decided to just cut our losses and deal. You're not wanted now."

She turned away from him, stalked to the closet, and disappeared inside the clothing-filled depths. Clint waited. Following her into that closet would be like following a she-wolf into her lair. He was lust-crazed and so in love with her he couldn't breathe for the hunger ri

sing inside him, but SEAL training was tough, and every instinct he possessed warned him to tread carefully where Morganna was concerned right now.

A minute later she stalked out. It was possible she was a bit angrier than when she'd gone in. She carried a pair of jeans and some kind of white top. It didn't look like there was much to the top. And she carried boots.

"I have a date. Go away." She flashed him a glare. Clint hid a grin. "You little liar. You have a meeting with Joe later."

A little moue of displeasure pouted her lips as her gray eyes flashed back at him.

"You think you're so smart." She tossed the clothes on the bed as the cat watched them curiously.

"I think I know you." He arched his brow. Morganna could fool a lot of people, but he knew her. Well. Too well, he was starting to realize.

She rolled her eyes. "Well, maybe I have a date after I meet with Joe." She picked up the blue jeans.

"Do you like those pants, Morganna?" Clint asked curiously as she pulled the first leg over her ankle. "Would I be wearing them otherwise?" "Finish putting them on and I'm going to cut them off you later," he informed her gently. "I'd hate to have to ruin a good pair of jeans."

"I'd hate to have to hurt you, Clint." Her smile was tight, hard, as she finished putting the jeans on.

She stared back at him defiantly, challenging. He chuckled at the deliberate dare in her expression. He watched as she dressed. She buttoned the jeans, then reached to the bed for the white sleeveless blouse. Not that she should have bothered. It barely reached her navel, flashing that little gold ring that pierced it.

He shook his head, braced his feet apart, and pushed his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans as he watched her. Yeah, she was really mad.

"It's only been a few days, baby," he murmured. "It's been five days, Clint. You left; you walked out again-"

"I love you, Morganna."

She shut up, staring back at him with wide eyes a long second before she blinked. "What?"

"I love you," he repeated. "I knew I loved you five days ago. I knew I loved you more than ten years ago."

"And you're just now telling me?" Her breasts were moving faster now, harder. Tight little nipples pressed against the layers of bra and blouse, assuring him that her arousal was burning just as hot, just as high, as his.

Facing her with the truth, though, that was harder. Admitting to a weakness wasn't easy for him, especially the cowardly way he had allowed the past to nearly destroy what had always been between him and Morganna.

"Yeah, I'm just now telling you." He breathed out heavily. "Because you made me feel, Morganna. You made me dream. Dream of me and you together." He glanced at her belly. "Dreams of you beneath me, growing round with my child. Dreams that were destroying me because I was terrified I was my father's son."

"You thought you would beat your child?" She stared back at him incredulously.

"Dammit, Morganna, don't stare at me like that," he growled. "His father beat him, just as his father before him did. I was concerned-"

"You are so full of bullshit!" She stomped her foot.

Now that really wasn't a good sign. Morganna was approaching eruption level when she stomped her foot.

He narrowed his eyes on her, wondering what the hell she had in her mind now. This was what he got for trying to bare his soul to her? Next time he'd just fuck her and have done with it.

"You ran because you thought you'd beat your baby? Because you thought because I wore makeup and flirted and had fun, I'd screw around on you?" Her eyes began to brighten with tears. No. Hell no. She was not going to start crying.

"You ran because the big tough he-man, the Conan of the block, couldn't make one little girl obey him like everyone else in the damned world did." She was yelling before she finished, in his face, her finger poking into his chest. "Can your bullshit, Clint. You ran because you cared. Because when you were with me, I made you feel. I made you love and you hated it."

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