Read Online Her Christmas SEAL (When SEALs Come Home Book 7) by Anne Marsh - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Anne Marsh
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now.”
5
JACKS
Like. Hell.
I wasn’t done with Holly. She wasn’t done with me.
“Why?” She’d damned well give me an answer.
She clearly didn’t want to give me more words, but it felt important. Seeing as how I was bigger and meaner, I had two advantages. I rolled over and knocked her gently onto the mattress, threading my fingers through hers as I pinned her in place.
“Off,” she snapped.
“Answers,” I countered. “We make love, and then you tell me to get up and go? I don’t think so.”
She glared up at me. “What do you think we have going on here?”
I kinda thought my words said it all. Make love , because that’s where my head—and my heart—had been at. Her naked breasts pressed up against my chest made it kinda hard to formulate a better answer, but I tried. I ignored the sweet, hot heat of her pussy against my leg too.
“A second chance,” I answered promptly. No point in giving her the truth.
“At what?”
Christ. She was more suspicious than the IRS. “At us,” I said, taking a chance and brushing a kiss over her mouth. “I should have fought for you when you chose Mr. Dick. Shoulda told you then that I wanted a shot.”
She snorted. “Right. You’ve never had a relationship in your life. One night, Jacks. That’s what you do. Meet a girl, romance her, sleep with her—and then move on from her.”
Nothing like all my sins coming home to roost. I was fucked either way, and not in a good way. She wasn’t wrong—she just wasn’t seeing things the way I did. Holly was different from those other women. She made me want to be different too.
“Did I say I wanted us to be a one-night stand?”
She tugged on her hands. Since I outweighed her by almost a hundred pounds, she got precisely nowhere, although she didn’t answer me either.
“Man falls out of the sky on your feet, and you don’t think you should keep him?” I was happy to let her just use me too—but for the next fifty years or so. Settling for being her five-minute quickie when she had an itch to scratch wasn’t an option.
“I’ve got this,” she said, and I was sure she did. I’d have to get her a T-shirt with those words blazoned across her boobs. Holly was stunningly capable even when life dealt her a crap hand. Problem was, I wanted to help because I had it bad for her.
“You need to go,” she repeated. “I have wreaths to make.”
I squinted at the clock. “At two in the morning?”
She shrugged. “Some of us find it harder to keep the electric on than others.”
If she had problems keeping the lights on, it wasn’t just because she lacked cash. She’d powered all of the visible appliances in the room from a single outlet and extension cords snaked across the floor. My inner fireman was appalled. “The fire marshal isn’t gonna like your heating setup.”
She closed her eyes. “Shut up. Go away.”
And then just like that things fell to shit. One minute we were arguing, and the next I smelled smoke. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe Lucky had decided to host a bonfire party at two in the morning.
Or maybe the whole fucking farm was on fire.
“Get dressed,” I snapped, already launching myself off the bed. Grabbing my jeans from the floor, I yanked them on. Not that I had a problem with bare-assing it if there was a fire, but some things were better off protected.
“What the hell, Jacks?” Despite my giving her exactly what she’d asked for—my leaving—she rose up on her knees, and the view was pretty damned spectacular. If my instincts hadn’t been screaming we had a bigger problem than her anti-relationship stance, I’d have been happy to stand there and stare at her. She had gorgeous breasts.
“Clothes,” I ordered, scooping up the bits and pieces I’d peeled off of her earlier. “Anything important, get ready to grab it.”
The upside of Holly’s too-small place was that it took two steps to reach the door. I tested the doorknob. Cool to the touch. That was a
5
JACKS
Like. Hell.
I wasn’t done with Holly. She wasn’t done with me.
“Why?” She’d damned well give me an answer.
She clearly didn’t want to give me more words, but it felt important. Seeing as how I was bigger and meaner, I had two advantages. I rolled over and knocked her gently onto the mattress, threading my fingers through hers as I pinned her in place.
“Off,” she snapped.
“Answers,” I countered. “We make love, and then you tell me to get up and go? I don’t think so.”
She glared up at me. “What do you think we have going on here?”
I kinda thought my words said it all. Make love , because that’s where my head—and my heart—had been at. Her naked breasts pressed up against my chest made it kinda hard to formulate a better answer, but I tried. I ignored the sweet, hot heat of her pussy against my leg too.
“A second chance,” I answered promptly. No point in giving her the truth.
“At what?”
Christ. She was more suspicious than the IRS. “At us,” I said, taking a chance and brushing a kiss over her mouth. “I should have fought for you when you chose Mr. Dick. Shoulda told you then that I wanted a shot.”
She snorted. “Right. You’ve never had a relationship in your life. One night, Jacks. That’s what you do. Meet a girl, romance her, sleep with her—and then move on from her.”
Nothing like all my sins coming home to roost. I was fucked either way, and not in a good way. She wasn’t wrong—she just wasn’t seeing things the way I did. Holly was different from those other women. She made me want to be different too.
“Did I say I wanted us to be a one-night stand?”
She tugged on her hands. Since I outweighed her by almost a hundred pounds, she got precisely nowhere, although she didn’t answer me either.
“Man falls out of the sky on your feet, and you don’t think you should keep him?” I was happy to let her just use me too—but for the next fifty years or so. Settling for being her five-minute quickie when she had an itch to scratch wasn’t an option.
“I’ve got this,” she said, and I was sure she did. I’d have to get her a T-shirt with those words blazoned across her boobs. Holly was stunningly capable even when life dealt her a crap hand. Problem was, I wanted to help because I had it bad for her.
“You need to go,” she repeated. “I have wreaths to make.”
I squinted at the clock. “At two in the morning?”
She shrugged. “Some of us find it harder to keep the electric on than others.”
If she had problems keeping the lights on, it wasn’t just because she lacked cash. She’d powered all of the visible appliances in the room from a single outlet and extension cords snaked across the floor. My inner fireman was appalled. “The fire marshal isn’t gonna like your heating setup.”
She closed her eyes. “Shut up. Go away.”
And then just like that things fell to shit. One minute we were arguing, and the next I smelled smoke. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe Lucky had decided to host a bonfire party at two in the morning.
Or maybe the whole fucking farm was on fire.
“Get dressed,” I snapped, already launching myself off the bed. Grabbing my jeans from the floor, I yanked them on. Not that I had a problem with bare-assing it if there was a fire, but some things were better off protected.
“What the hell, Jacks?” Despite my giving her exactly what she’d asked for—my leaving—she rose up on her knees, and the view was pretty damned spectacular. If my instincts hadn’t been screaming we had a bigger problem than her anti-relationship stance, I’d have been happy to stand there and stare at her. She had gorgeous breasts.
“Clothes,” I ordered, scooping up the bits and pieces I’d peeled off of her earlier. “Anything important, get ready to grab it.”
The upside of Holly’s too-small place was that it took two steps to reach the door. I tested the doorknob. Cool to the touch. That was a
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