never felt this way before. Her body was still humming and she was ready to strip naked and do all the things to his body that she’d dreamed of for years. Things she’d had zero interest in doing to other guys’ bodies. Brody things.
“You need to go,” he growled. “Now. Before this goes too far.”
Go? Was he kidding? The climax was still working its magic on her body in delightful little shudders.
“I think it needs to go just a little bit further,” she corrected softly, nibbling kisses along his jaw and down his throat. He gave a low moan when she got to that spot beneath his ear, emboldening her. One hand still gripping his biceps for balance, she grazed the other down his side and across his rock-hard abs, taking a second to give her own moan of appreciation. Then, still nibbling, she slipped her fingers beneath the elastic waistband of his sweatpants.
Before she could explore, or even touch anything interesting, his hand shot out and grabbed her wrist.
“Further,” she whispered in his ear, dipping her tongue along the rim before adding, “Please.”
“Genna—”
“C’mon,” she cajoled. “Let’s see how good we are together. This is it, finally we get to give us a chance before you have to go back to being a big, bad SEAL heroically saving the world. Let’s do it now.”
It was as though the hard, hot body in her arms had turned to ice. She pulled back to look at him, trying to figure out what was going on.
“I’m not a damned hero,” he ground out.
Genna laughed. “Of course you are. Even the president says so.”
“I’m no hero and there is no we,” he said with a laugh so bitter it made her mouth hurt. When Genna shook her head, he shifted aside. As if moving away from her body would make the differences between them all the more obvious. Since he was hard and she was panting, it was a smart strategy.
Genna wanted to thump her hand against her chest to force some air past the knot in her throat.
He was so big, looming over her. His body was like a solid wall of muscles. Even through his T-shirt, she could see them bunch, hard and firm beneath the fabric.
“Brody—” she said slowly, then went silent. She had no idea what to say. This wasn’t the Brody she’d held in her mind all these years. The one she remembered as her gallant hero, the one who wrote her incendiary letters. The one who made her melt with just a look. Okay, maybe he was that last one, but not the rest. And she wasn’t sure what to think about it.
“Look, we should—”
“No,” he interrupted. “There is no we. There’s you, the pampered princess. And there’s me.”
He paused, giving her a once-over that made her go hot and cold both at the same time. “Not interested.”
Despite her confusion and the sick feeling in her stomach, hot passion was still gripping her limbs and pooling between her thighs. Genna dropped her eyes to the very large, very visible proof pressing against his sweatpants.
“No? You look mighty interested to me,” she taunted without thinking. As soon as the words were out, though, she wished she could pull them back.
“Sweetheart, you want to get naked and do me right? Fine, let’s go. I’m willing to let you. But that’s not interest. That’s over the minute I roll off your body.”
His words hit Genna like a kick in the gut. Swift, well aimed and brutally painful. Emotionally reeling, she tried to take a breath, but it hurt so much.
“But I thought—” She broke off, not about to admit what their letters had meant to her. Or what these kisses were a sign of. And definitely not a peep about the fantasies, the dreams and the hopes she’d built around him over the years.
“You thought what? That because we played the old-school version of sexting that there was something going on? That because I’m willing to do you against the wall, it’s special?”
Ouch. Genna frowned, suddenly feeling very naive. Apparently they taught mind reading in SEAL school.
“I didn’t think the letters were a secret code for let’s run away together. But neither did I think they were your version of a girl in every port.” Wishing she were anywhere but here, Genna tried to ignore the tight knot of misery in her stomach, where only moments ago had been white-hot desire. “Did you write me just to be mean? For some kind of revenge? Is that what this was all about?”
For a second Brody looked as if he was going to protest. Then his expression smoothed again, back to stoic military machine.
“A day where we learn something isn’t a day wasted,” he told her in a sanctimonious tone that made her want to kick him in the shin. And not the good one.
“Well, I guess today is fabulous,” Genna said, tears burning her eyes. She lifted her chin, daring them to fall. “I learned that you weren’t the man I thought you were. I found out that you make an excellent bully and that you have no problem playing games and deliberately hurting someone.”
She waited for him to protest. To claim she was wrong.
She wanted, desperately, for him to be that guy she’d always thought he was. To be the one who fought the odds, faced down the bullies. The one who protected her. That Brody was her hero.
But this one? His expression didn’t change. She struggled to accept that this was the real him. The boy she’d known was a distant loner with a rough reputation and a questionable attitude. But she’d always been sure that was just a defense mechanism, maybe because his father sucked and he’d had such a bad childhood. On their night together he’d joked, he’d smiled. He’d been so sweet.
“But then, you’ve never known me, have you?”
Again with the mind reading. Genna wasn’t sure if she wanted to cry, or to throw cookies at him. It wasn’t as though she’d spent the last decade waiting around for him. But still, their relationship had been a cherished memory, that one thing that’d always made her feel special. Made her feel as if whatever else was lousy in her life, the hottest guy she’d ever crushed on had cared enough about her, about her reputation, to give up his freedom.
But it looked as though she was the only person who gave a damn about that memory.
Humiliation washed over her, making her blink fast to clear the burning from her eyes.
“I guess I don’t know you. Not any better than anyone else around here. You’re either the badass troublemaker son of the town drunk. Or maybe you’re the abused grandson of a sweet lady who thinks you need saving. Or, wait, I know,” she snapped, “you’re the big bad hero the mayor wants to honor for your incredible service to your country. But whatever you are, it’s not what I thought.”
“Well, then,” he said slowly, his words like gravel. “I guess that says it all. Maybe now you’ll go?”
It wasn’t his words that broke her heart, though. It was the look in his eyes. For one brief second, so much pain and loss flashed in those gold depths that she didn’t know how he could survive it.
Genna
