Page 54 of Dangerous Mission
Not all alpha SEALs. Just one.
The one who pinned me in with his gigantic arms, and overly warm body. The one who made my skin go electric from the way his exhales skimmed over my neck. The man that destroyed me with his hand on my throat in a possessive grip.
And it was only around my neck. But I could feel iteverywhere.
Lord, it’s hot in here.
Shifting in my seat, I rub my hand over the place where his fingers curled commandingly around my throat.
I’ve never been touched by a man like that.
Turning my face toward the flow of air coming in the window, I close my eyes. It’s a dangerous thing to do.
The overload of hormones in my body is demanding a fantasy. Guess who’s the star?
“Aria.”
I jump at my name and open my eyes to find Scout flicking his gaze to me in the rearview as he drives too fast.
My face is hot, my legs squeezed, my fingers still clutched around my neck. In other words, guilty looking as hell.
Voice deep and rough, Scout demands, “Did you hear me?”
“No,” I squeak.
God, that was pathetic.
Justice swings his head my way and smirks.
When I punch him in the arm he chuckles.
Dropping my hand to my leg, where I clench my thigh, I put on a neutral façade and look Scout’s reflection dead in the eye. “What did you say?”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Fuck if I know.
I focus on the road, clenching the wheel and remind myself to get castrated.
Rory laughs darkly as he looks over at me from the passenger seat where he’s taking up too damned much room. “Whatdidyou say?”
“Nothing.”
Not a goddamn thing.
Jesus. The look on Aria’s face! The way her hand was around her own throat where I was touching her…
Biting the inside of my cheek, I focus on keeping the truck between the edges of the road, out of the rain-swollen ditches.
It took a damned half hour for my erection to go down and seeing her like that made the bastard start throbbing again.
I glance at the screen on the dash. Focusing on the map for a fraction of a second. Thank god we’re less than one minute away from our destination according to the GPS.
Rory picks this time to stick his crooked nose into my business. “I heard something and it sounded like?—”
Delivered with a glare, I growl, “Shut it, Rory.”
When our turn appears, I hit the gas to speed up when I should be slowing down. I’ve got to get the hell out of this truck.