SEAL Kissed: A Navy SEAL Military Romance (Hot Dirty SEALS Book 1) Read Online Free Page A

no go in her book.
    Finishing her fancy fruity cocktail she slams the glass on the bar, the little umbrella twirling as her mouth twists in disgust. “You wouldn’t dare.”
    “Don’t push me,” my forehead wrinkles with an unquestioned dare.
    Olivia’s brow furrows and with a wave of her arm she orders herself another drink. She already has men eating from the palm of her hand.
    “Hello, ladies.” A doughy hand the color of paste with black hairy knuckles rests on Olivia’s lower back. I look up to see a middle aged balding man hitting on my friend. He may of addressed both of us but it’s obvious he is only looking at Olivia. Silently I thank God. She bats her fake eyelashes at him and smiles. I can already see her brain cataloguing the fancy suit and cuff links that adorn his shirt. Even his cologne smells overpriced.
    “I’ll leave you two alone,” I announce and seize the opportunity to leave.
    The crowd is larger than usual for a Thursday night. Large congregates of genetically superior looking people are gathered in clusters throughout the rooms. It’s stereotypical California. I’ve never seen so many beautiful people with perfect teeth in one place. I can’t stand it. A wave of nausea fills my stomach. Every nerve cell in my body is firing off and I instinctively want out. Growing up in a basement does that to a person. Before the large crowd can swallow me up I quickly scan the building and make a break for the exit. If I’m fast enough I should be able to dodge everyone before I get mistaken for the help again. The continuous shame of being inferior is a powerful motivator in life. It’s a brazen reminder that I have never been good enough for anybody, not even my own mom. Looking up from the bottom-rung provides me with a unique advantage. I get to see everything I never want to be. I never want to be the woman with the thousand dollar hand bag splattered with bling while her children are raised by a team of nannies or the arm candy mistress to a wealthy business man with a pregnant wife at home.
    As I bob and weave through warm bodies and posh furniture I’m grateful for my well broken in ballet flats. The exit sign is only a few yards away.
    I’m so close I can taste my freedom. But then a server steps in my path. The tray he is carrying is piled with empty cocktail glasses and there is no way he can possibly see me barreling down on him. I'm going to crash into him. My arm is suddenly squeezed and my body is jerked out of the servers way.
    “Ouch,” I reach for my shoulder but am quickly tucked against a brick wall. A moving brick wall that knows my name.
    “Emerson.” I’m swept away by the breathy baritone of his voice. My body’s reaction to him is instantaneous. My name falls from his lips, wraps around me and dances to my ears like a sweet melody. I want to hear him say it again and again.
    My balance falters and a thick arm snakes around my waist. His other hand tangles in my hair, tilting my head back. The club lighting is dim, making the sharp angles of his face even darker. “Reed. What are you doing here?” It comes out as a whisper. My eyes find his and I can’t pull myself away from him. Something feels so right, the unknown is excitedly comfortable. I had no idea it could feel so good to be held. The way he tilts my head and looks at me makes me feel cherished and safe. It’s a strange feeling when you experience these emotions for the first time as an adult.
    The heat of his body burns through my clothes, fanning the flames of my desire into a full blown wildfire. He leans into me, his delicious mouth only inches from mine as his hot minty breath floats over me. I lick my lips in anticipation of being kissed. Lust shoots down my spine, traveling at light speed to where his hand rests on my lower back. Something in the air between us sparks and the flash in his eyes tells me he feels it too.
    His words from earlier today come back to haunt me. I don’t do girlfriends.