Falling for the Enemy by Samanthe Beck

Author:Samanthe Beck [Beck, Samanthe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Romance, Contemporary, Series
Amazon: B00PF6QL66
Publisher: Entangled: Brazen
Published: 2014-12-01T16:00:00+00:00

Who knew he’d survive four years at Annapolis, six years as a SEAL, dozens of dangerous missions all over the globe, only to die in Bluelick with a smile on his face, his extremely grateful dick limp in his lap, and a gorgeous redhead completely at fault?

The feathery tickle of eyelashes against his chest suggested maybe his nervous system was still plugged into his brain. He pried his eyes open and watched as the redhead in question pressed a kiss to his pec, then his collarbone, and then his temple. He contemplated saying something… Thank you? Give me five minutes and I’ll return the favor? But suddenly she stopped, buried her nose in his hair and sniffed.

“Why does your hair smell like my soap?”

He tucked himself back into his jeans and buttoned up. “I don’t want to shock you.”

She drew back and gave him what he could only classify as a horrified look. “Oh, no. You didn’t…”

“Your shampoo is pink and smells like an herb garden. I took the soap—”

“Body soap.”

He shrugged to show her what he thought of the distinction. “I scrubbed it over my head, which happens to be attached to my body. Then I rinsed.”

Her fingers sifted through his hair, as if assessing the damage. “Bar soap isn’t chemically formulated for hair. It’s going to leave the strands weighed down and lifeless.”

“It’s hair. It’s already lifeless.” He tucked her back against his side.

“Neanderthal,” she grumbled, but settled into a comfortable position.

The sense of contentment subsided a little when she trailed her index finger across his chest, tracing the letters of his tattoo. Not that her touch didn’t feel like heaven—it did—but questions wouldn’t be far behind and he was talked out on the subject of his military service. A part of him couldn’t believe he’d opened up like he had, simply because she’d asked him. The odd thing was he did feel better. Something about the unflinching way she handled the ugly mess he’d dumped on her—something beyond the amazingly restorative power of a great blowjob—made him feel almost…normal. He caught her hand and linked their fingers.

“The only easy day was yesterday?”

“It’s an unofficial SEAL motto. I got dragged out for standard commemorative ink after my first mission.” Ironically, the words had never really felt true until after his last.

“A bunch of us did the same thing after graduating from cosmetology school.”

“Seriously?” He’d inspected every inch of her mouthwatering body and he never noticed a tattoo.

She gave his chest a playful swat. “Hell, no. The idea of lying still while someone stabs me repeatedly with a needle to shove ink into my dermis sounds like a cruel and unusual punishment.”

“Depends on your definition of unusual, I suppose.”

She smiled and rested her head on his shoulder. He could have sat there for days, in comfortable silence, listening to the rain patter on the roof, but for some screwed up reason he asked, “Why run for mayor?”

She let her head roll back so it rested against the couch. Their

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