Reluctantly Jagger dragged his gaze away and up only to find furious deep green eyes sparking fire in his direction. And recognition slammed him in the gut.
"Fuck…Lexie?" The words wheezed out of his suddenly deflated lungs as the truth settled uncomfortably around him. When she gave a nod, her brow wrinkled slightly between her sleek brows, Jagger wanted to smack the shit out of himself and his best friend.
Damn it, they'd been ogling a woman he'd once thought of as the little sister he never had. Groaning, Jagger strode to a wooden bench nearby and sank into the hard seat before his legs gave out. Dropping his head into his hands, he wondered what the hell he was supposed to do now? Shit, his mother would ream his ass but good if she found out about this little stunt.
"Ty, please tell me you knew it was me. I mean when we were kissing."
He looked up enough to watch color flood her smooth cheeks before dropping his head again. Talk about rock and hard place. The Navy never trained him for situations this explosive. "Shit, Alexa," was all he could manage.
"Eloquent as always, buddy." Trip tossed his two cents in regardless of the death glare Jagger shot him. Why Trip always felt the need to fan a roaring fire Jagger didn't understand.
"Oh sweet heaven, I'm so embarrassed." Suddenly, Alexa sat beside him, her sweet fresh scent filling his lungs and causing his blood to divert south with the typical swelling reaction.
"Oh, darlin', no need to be shy." Trip sank to his haunches before Jagger’s childhood friend and took her fragile hands in his callused grip. "I haven't seen our boy that into a woman in years, if ever."
"Shut it, Trip," he growled at his soon to be ex-friend.
Of course, his buddy didn't listen or even pretend Jagger's opinion mattered. "Jagger's a little on the shy side. He sure as hell didn't expect his childhood buddy to cause a cock stand in the middle of a freakin’ airport."
Jagger did the only thing he could. He stood up, shoved Trip away, grabbed Alexa's hand, and took off for the airport entrance.
A few stumbling steps came from behind him before she caught his rhythm all the while tugging against his hold. "Damn it, Ty, let go of me. I can't leave my luggage here. I have appointments scheduled and people are depending on me. Let me go, you’re acting like a caveman."
Only right his actions should suit his mood. Right now he felt easily capable of clubbing Trip over the head, grabbing Alexa by the hair, and dragging her back to the safety of his cave. The cave in which he could fuck her senseless until they passed out then wake up enough to do it all over again.
"Jagger, sit-rep, now!"
Automatically, Jagger stood down, his muscle memory even stronger than the window licker side of his brain. Careful to take slow measured breaths, Jagger kept his gaze down, his grip light, and his thoughts on his actions.
First, dragging an angry woman out of a Florida airport would be bad. The Navy would frown on it, his mother would threaten to ground him, and Alexa, if her whispered threats were to be believed, would castrate him with a jagged plastic litter scooper.
Damn the woman was blood thirsty and devious. What did it say about his own mental state when he was more turned on than ever? He gave a little mental high five to the makers of his cargo shorts. Thanks to those clothing geniuses his rock hard erection wasn't as noticeable as it could have been.
Second issue, little Alexa Westlake had turned into a hottie of unbelievable proportions. When did this happen and how the hell had it escaped his notice in all his trips back home?
Third swirl o' crap in his cereal, Alexa was stubborn and hot. Meaning, if he brought his girl, and yes, he already thought of the cursing and tugging woman as his, then the rest of the team would be all over her before introductions left his mouth.
Quickly he mentally reviewed his teammates and knew Ice would take in the situation with one glance from his sniper's gaze. Gotta love a man who knew more about everyone, but always kept his lid shut. The rest of the guys would back down once Jagger made his claim known, but until then, it would be a feeding frenzy of sharks after fresh meat.
"Tyler Jaggerstein," her voice growled directly in front of him. "If you don't let me go this instance, I'll shout at the top of my lungs your pop rock expe—"
Faster than a thought, Jagger covered her mouth with his hand and jerked her body hard against his own. Leaning down, he whispered very quietly in her small delicate ear, "One word, just one word about that, and I'll post your fifth grade picture all over the Internet."
The aggravating female in his arms bluffed her way through a casual I don't care shrug, and Jagger dropped the big one to seal the deal. "Then I'll overnight the picture to Freedom Enterprise. Old Mr. Gunthry still runs it, and as one military man to another, I know he'll be more than happy to print the picture for me…on the front page, above the fold."