Seal of Honor(55)

He flung her into a whirlwind of sensuality she’d never imagined and she soared, basking in the bliss of another release. Oh God, the man had to be an angel, because she was in heaven.

When she floated back to herself a moment later, she opened her eyes and there he was, her angel warrior, still surging over her. Sweat rolled down his temple and his jaw clenched. With one final deep thrust, his head fell back and his mouth opened on a ragged moan as he shuddered with his orgasm. Just as she’d once mused, he was beautiful when he let go and lost control like that.

Gabe collapsed on top of her, but only for a second. She didn’t mind his weight, but protective man that he was, he was probably afraid of squishing her. He rolled to his back, switching their positions. His eyes closed, his breathing settled into a nice, even rhythm, but Audrey knew he wasn’t asleep. His fingers stroked up and down her arm in the lightest of caresses.

Silence descended, but it wasn’t at all uncomfortable. Amazing that she didn’t feel the need to fill it with cooed oh-it-was-so-goods and other inane ego stroking. Gabe was a man comfortable with his body, comfortable with a woman’s body, and comfortable with sex, and he knew all too well he’d done it right.

Boy, had he ever done it right.

Audrey smiled to herself and propped her weight on one elbow to study him. His body fascinated her now more than ever. Wide, heavy arms and shoulders, and an honest-to-goodness eight pack with ridges between each muscle group that arrowed into a sharp V at his hips. His nipples were like copper pennies, his navel such a shallow innie that it was almost an outie. And how adorable was that?

With a smattering of dark hair, his chest was the most defined she’d ever seen, but he still wasn’t body-builder bulky. Maybe he wore all that muscle so well because of his height.

A set of dog tags rested on a ball chain between his pecs. Audrey had felt them, cool against her skin, when he was on top, had seen them swinging when he propped himself up on his big arms to thrust deeper. Now she picked them up to read the engraving.

BRISTOW, GABRIEL M

938867004USN A NEG

NORELPREF

“These look new,” she said. No scuffs or dings, still shiny. She didn’t doubt that Gabe, meticulous man that he was, would keep them in mint condition. Still, it seemed like they’d be a little beat up if he’d had them since he was seventeen. “Are these new?”

“Hm?” Gabe looked up, spotted the dog tags dangling between her fingers, dropped his head back to the pillow and shut his eyes again. “No. I just didn’t start wearing them until last year.”

“Why not?”

“Wearing them on ops was more of a risk than not. Last thing I wanted was to let the enemy know I was a SEAL. And now…” He opened his eyes again and took the tags from her, rubbing his thumb over his name. “I can’t seem to take them off.”

She smiled at the pensive note in his voice and thought about the tattoo on his shoulder. Two battle-dressed skulls faced off while an eagle carrying a trident wrapped in an American flag flew over the design. Across the bottom stretched a banner with the famous SEAL motto: The only easy day was yesterday.

She bet he got that tattoo around the time he started wearing his dog tags. “You miss the Navy, huh?”

He stayed silent for so long, she didn’t expect an answer. Then he surprised her with, “I really do, Audrey. It’s where I belong. Not here, working as a private contractor.”

She so didn’t agree, but decided to keep her protests to herself. For now. “What does the M stand for?” she asked instead, rubbing her thumb over his name.

“Matthew.”

“Named for an archangel and a saint,” she mused. “My mama would have loved that. The only reason I didn’t end up Mary Something-or-Other is because Daddy was a huge Audrey Hepburn fan. Are your parents very religious people?”

He grunted. “They like to appear that way. Truth is, we never went to church.”

Audrey nodded and pointed to the last line on the tag. “Hence your lack of religious preference?”

“Yup.”

“My mother was extremely religious,” she said and weaved the chain between her fingers. “She raised me to be, too, but…well, I’ve never really fit into the mold my parents cast for me.”

“I don’t think any children do,” Gabe said, again surprising her. Who’d have thought him such an insightful man? His voice softened. “Parents need to be able to accept their children for who they are or not become parents at all.”

Ah, she got it now. He was thinking of his brother. Knowing what she knew of his father, Raffi’s coming out of the closet must have been a hellish event in the Bristow household. She imagined young Gabe torn between the love he had for his baby brother and the loyalty he felt toward his tyrant of a father—and fell hopelessly in love with him because he’d chosen Raffi.