Page 6 of Dangerous Games (Tempting SEALs 2)

"Sometimes." He shrugged. "Some subs almost require it."

She raised her brows. "Does it turn you on?"

His gaze flickered as it returned to her. "Would you like to find out?"

It didn't turn him on. She could see it in his eyes, in his voice. Sometimes she knew Clint better than she knew herself. And she knew the look in his eyes as he answered her. A look of wary regret.

"I think I'll pass tonight." She smiled back. But when he turned away from her, Morganna jumped for the door. The knob wouldn't turn.

"You need a key," he informed her calmly as he poured a drink before turning back to her.

Damn, he looked like a Dom. Brooding sexuality swirled around him as he lifted the short glass to his lips and tipped it back. When he lowered it again, his blue eyes seemed to burn into her.

"I asked you a question. Answer me."

She crossed her arms beneath her breasts as she faced him challengingly. "What do you think I'm doing here, Clint? It's a club, isn't it?"

His jaw bunched before he brought the glass to his lips again and finished the drink. He looked even less pleased than normal. But he did look sexy. Hell, he always looked sexy.

"You know what kind of club it is." His voice was hard, dark. The hunger slipping into it had her nipples peaking beneath her top, the flesh between her thighs moistening.

"So I do." She fought to control her breathing, as well as her reaction to him.

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nbsp; She knew exactly what kind of club it was and she knew the type of men who reserved these rooms. Realizing that Clint was one of those men had both fear and excitement racing through her.

"So I'm asking you again. What are you doing here?"

She had never heard that tone of voice before from him. Rasping, filled with lust. It shook her to her core. "Now, Clint, why do you think I'm here?" She cocked her hip and propped her hand on it, watching his eyes flare and loving the response. This was a side of him she had never seen. A side that fascinated her, drew her. Shocked her.

"That's what I was asking you," he finally snapped. "Honestly, Morganna, I can't come up with a single reason why you would be here."

"Of course not-you're too busy trying to convince yourself I'm complexly nonsexual and therefore unthreatening." She shrugged. "I'm not responsible for your self-delusions."

Daring him was never a good idea, but she couldn't seem to help herself. Some imp of self-destruction was lodged in her brain and playing hell with her sense of self-preservation.

He set the glass on the bar then, and before her stunned gaze he sat down in the plush chair beside it and stared back at her.

His expression was so filled with lust, with carnal knowledge, that the fires burning in her body since she first caught sight of him began to flame higher.

"Sexual, are you?" He flashed her a hard look. "Since when?"

"I don't kiss and tell," she informed him with a polite smile. "A girl needs to have a little mystery, Clint."

His blue eyes gleamed in assessment. Oh, now that look was interesting. If a little scary.

God, why hadn't she known this about him?

"Come over here."

His voice was lower, darker, suggestive. His tall frame slouched in the chair, his legs splayed out before him as he stared back at her with that brooding, hot look. So hot it made her flush, made her breathe in nervously as she gathered her courage and stepped closer.

"Closer." He lifted a hand from the chair arm, his fingers beckoning her closer.

"Why?" She didn't trust this new Clint in any way whatsoever.

"So I can show you why little girls shouldn't play grownup games," he growled. "Come on, Morganna; show me how grown-up you think you are."

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