Page 64 of Dangerous Games (Tempting SEALs 2)

"We're going to kill each other at this rate." He lifted his arm lazily, activating the mechanism that released the cuffs at her wrists. The rattle of the chain against the headboard assured him she was free. But she didn't move.

His hand touched her shoulder, smoothed back to her raised hips. Her skin was like silk, heated silk.

"We need to take a shower." He forced himself to speak when he wanted nothing more than to sleep.

Morganna's irritated little mumble had a smile quirking at his lips.

"Come on, sugar girl." He forced himself to sit up, staring down at her with a little smile as she rolled from the pillows that had lifted her hips to him. "We'll shower and sleep."

"I'm hungry," she grumbled. "You have to feed me."

She rolled to her back, staring up at him with smoky eyes, her expression languid, sated.

"We'll order pizza."

"I want Chinese." A little frown probed at her brow.

He had an odd desire to roll his eyes at her.

"Fine. I'll order myself pizza and you Chinese." He shrugged as he stood up beside the bed.

"I might want a piece of pizza, too." A smile quirked at her swollen lips.

"Minx." He pulled her from the bed, swatting at her very delectable rear as she padded past him. "Shower. We'll argue rood later."

"I don't argue," she murmured as she glanced at him over her shoulder, a provocative little wink making his cock twitch. "I win."

Chapter 17

HOW DID SHE DO IT? She should have been angry, furious with him. He had forced acknowledgment that she belonged to him without giving anything in return. Without giving her what he knew himself. That he did belong to her. But she wasn't angry. She was ... herself. Giving. Confident. A complete enigma to him.

It didn't matter how many different ways he asserted his hold on Morganna or how many times she submitted to his touch and his hunger; Clint found himself more owned than owning. And he'd be damned if she acted like a submissive. The only problem with that was the fact that instead of dulling his needs, her defiance kept him challenged, kept him hungry.

She kept him, period. He couldn't remember a time in his sexual life that a woman had sustained his interest past the first few days. Of course, he should have been prepared for it. Morganna had been his greatest sexual fantasy for more years than he was comfortable admitting to. She held a part of him no other woman ever had, and that terrified the shit out of him. That fear of her hold over him was only growing. How was he supposed to walk away later when each day her hold on him only grew stronger? "Mmm, want a bite?"

He stared down at her, where she reclined against his back, wearing nothing but one of his T-shirts, as she lifted a bit of her Moo Goo Gai Pan to her shoulders and stared back at him.

"It's really good." She waggled her brows comically as he leaned forward and took the bite of chicken and mushroom that she held out to him.

So close, her eyes seemed to be filled with small starlights, glittering, gleaming, within a dark gray velvet backdrop. A small smile tugged at her lips and he knew the emotion he saw in her eyes. The very same emotion he had hidden from for ten long years.

"Very good," he agreed before leaning back and enjoying the feel of her resting against his naked chest.

She

was soft, relaxed. The overabundance of silken waves at fell from her head flowed over one of his arms and reminded him of the warmth he had dreamed of whenever he dreamed of her.

"Reno hates Chinese food," she said as she went back to the carton of food. "Steak and potatoes all the way for my brother."

Clint played with a curl of hair as he thought of all the times he and Reno had dreamed of a potato, let alone the steak, on some of the hair-raising missions they had been sent on. Missions on which the thought of a steak urged Reno home and the thought of Morganna urged Clint back.

" 'Nother bite?" She lifted the chopsticks and he leaned forward, taking it slowly.

He should be running like hell and he knew it He should jump out of the bed, dress, and get drunk enough to ignore the fever raging in his blood. And he would, if he weren't so damned relaxed. If every bone and muscle he possessed weren't just comfortable where they were. Supporting the bundle of dynamite that lounged languorously against him.

"Why did you go into law enforcement, Morganna?" Clint was almost surprised as the question slid past his lips.

The chopsticks paused above the carton as he felt her take a deep breath.

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