Nashville SEAL: Jameson: Nashville SEALs Read Online Free Page A

couldn’t get it out of his mind. He should be focused on Lizzie and their wedding. And yet his irritation was eating a hole in his gut.
    Was he making a mistake getting married? Would there be something like this that would set him off with the Teams? Would he see something, do something that would give him regrets, nightmares, or take him out of the real world and pull him back like a bungee cord to that familiar place of regret.
    Why couldn’t he let Thomas have the glory? He knew it was the right thing to do. There was no logical reason he should feel off.
    But there was no denying he was mad. It was like how he felt if he gave a bad performance. He’d wind up back at the motel room, alone and feeling sorry for himself, in a rotten mood until that knock on the door. Some angel would come and be his temporary lifeline, breathe the life back into him with her body, with her kisses, with all the magic and allure those groupie kittens could provide him. He needed that tonight.
    Except tonight he was with his lovely new bride. His blushing bride. On the first night of their marriage. When he should be Prince Charming and end her Cinderella day with the bedding of a lifetime. With a night she’d remember her whole life. That’s what Lizzie deserved. Could he pretend enough to give that to her? What did that make him then? Did he deserve her?
    He took a peek at her face in profile, her chest heaving, her lovely red lips and the errant strands of hair framing her face, one long curl brushing against the mounds of flesh that undulated like the waves in the ocean in San Diego. She had saved him in every way but one. She could not save him from himself.
    She didn’t meet his gaze as he sneaked his looks. She remained focused on the bugs on the windshield like they were museum finds. She was letting him off the hook, dammit. His internal sense of justice pushed him out of the airplane without a parachute. He was freefalling.
    Help me Lizzie. I don’t know how to ask. I’m broken.
    It was just a song, after all. Not like he had stolen it. Jameson had willingly shared it with him. Given him permission. Never said, “This is mine, not yours.” He’d in fact said, “See what you can do to tighten this one up.”
    Dammit. That’s what had happened. And it had nothing to do with Lizzie and her plans for the rest of her life. He was being an evil, self-centered son-of-a-bitch. Robbing her of the time she would remember forever. It was his job to lay all that aside and rock her world. The song, his past, the music business, and his relationship with Thomas—all that could go hang. This was Lizzie’s night.
    “I’m sitting here thinking how you’re going to look as I peel that dress off you, layer by fucking layer.”
    Her eyes were filled with tears when she returned his gaze. “Oh yeah?”
    “Most definitely, yeah.” He faced the two lane road that wandered through vineyards, small country antique shops that sold quilts and milk paint, tasting rooms and tiny restaurants that were some of the most expensive in the whole USA. “I’m wondering if I should start with your underwear or unzip your back and nibble from the top down.”
    “I don’t care.”
    “Yes, you do. And if you don’t, I’m gonna kiss you until you do. And then I’m gonna kiss you until you don’t care again.”
    She inhaled. “Jameson, do you know how hot I am right now?”
    He felt her eyes on him just before he felt her hand travel over his thigh and find his cock buried in the black dress pants he couldn’t wait to get rid of.
    “You’re hard as heck, Jameson.”
    “I always am around you, Lizzie.”
    “No, I mean, you gotta relieve that. Dangerous, and I am so hungry.”
    He squirmed, adjusting his hips forward, widening his knees to the sides to give her more access to his cock. She squeezed him and then lovingly rubbed the length of him. If he weren’t careful he’d run off the road. Her touch was the perfect combination of sensual