Carson raised a brow. “Don’t go dragging me into this. My dick’s doing fine, thank you very much.”
“Good to hear,” a throaty female voice remarked.
Carson swiveled his head in the direction of the voice, just in time to see a petite brunette in a yellow halter-top emerge from the shadows. The second floor of the club had a loft feel to it, a huge open space with a handful of floor-to-ceiling beams, and the brunette must have been leaning against one of those pillars, because Carson hadn’t even seen her approach. Which raised the question, just how long had she been lurking in the darkness, eavesdropping on them?
The others looked as startled as he felt to see her standing there. “So, which one of you is going to dance with me?” she asked in that husky voice.
Man, how did a tiny thing like her have such a sexy, fuck-me voice? Carson studied her, waiting for flashes from the strobe to illuminate her face so he could get a better look. Each time a streak of light lit up her face, Carson liked what he saw. She had one of those faces you saw in makeup ads—smooth creamy skin, a small upturned nose, and naturally red lips that were lush and sensual and ridiculously kissable. He lowered his gaze and liked what he saw there too. Perky breasts, small but in proportion to her petite 7
Elle Kennedy
frame. She couldn’t have been taller than five feet, but her sexy little body was a total turn-on.
The biggest turn-on about her was that he could see her nipples poking against her halter. Yup, she wasn’t wearing a bra.
He noticed his teammates checking her out as well, saw their appreciation, and an odd pang of possessiveness gripped his insides.
“Well?” she prompted, her voice barely audible over the music.
Well, what? Right, the dance. Carson quickly moved his gaze away from those small, tantalizing breasts and took a step forward before any of his friends—mainly Ryan—snatched up this hot little pixie.
“Sweetheart, I would love to dance with you,” he drawled, shooting her his trademark ladies’ man grin.
Women always told him that grin of his was hot enough to melt a glacier, and sure enough, he saw the brunette’s cheeks redden a little. It could’ve been the shadows making her look flushed, but he preferred to think the grin had done it.
A pair of catlike green eyes focused on Carson. Shit, she had nice eyes. They tilted up just slightly at the corners, giving her a very exotic air. “Let’s do it then.” Oh, he wanted to do it all right. Although he’d never admit it to Ryan I-Need-ToGet-Laid Evans, it had been way too long since Carson had slept with anyone. Five weeks, to be exact, and he was getting real tired of flying solo. That three-week mission in Colombia played a part in his current celibate status, but after that he had no excuse other than he simply hadn’t encountered a woman who set him on fire. Six months ago, he might’ve settled for the first available warm body, but ever since his best friend had fallen for Shelby, Carson found it was getting harder to justify screwing random chicks.#p#分页标题#e#
Garrett and Shelby were so disgustingly in love, they made him feel sleazy about his casual lifestyle. Not that he was looking for love or anything, but lately he was pickier about who he fell into bed with.
He might, however, make an exception for the woman who’d just asked him to dance.
8
Heat of Passion
She walked ahead of him, and Carson took the opportunity to admire the way her short black skirt hugged her firm little bottom. He usually went for curvy and leggy, but something about this woman’s fragile figure made his blood heat up.
He tore his eyes away from that delectable ass and followed her down the open spiral staircase leading to the main floor. When she reached the bottom step, she cocked her head as if to check if he was still there, and when their gazes connected, he saw a sensual smile tug on her pouty mouth. Damn, those lips belonged in an X-rated video. Preferably one that featured him and the lips in question wrapped around his dick.
Amusement danced in her green eyes. “You’re staring at my mouth.”
“You’ve got a nice mouth,” he answered glibly.
“So do you.” She studied him. “In fact, you’ve got a nice everything. Are you an actor?”
“Male model,” he lied, only because he didn’t feel like telling her he was a SEAL.
Women had a tendency to go a little nutty when they found out what he did, got all wide-eyed as fantasies of being swept off their feet by a real-life hero filled their pretty heads.
And Carson had no desire to sweep anyone off her feet tonight, unless it involved sweeping this appealing brunette to the nearest bed.
She smiled again, but the look on her face said she didn’t quite believe him.