Her Next Breath
Ex-SEAL Jackson Keller’s first mission with the Charter Group’s spec ops unit is a bust. Instead of capturing a drug lord in his Mexican compound, he finds a beautiful, naked woman. But she may have information they need to nail the narco-terrorist, so he takes her, sealing his fate. She’s his to watch, his to “manage” until the op’s done.
Suri McAnally’s made some mistakes—mainly trusting her college roomie who just so happens to be the son of one of Mexico’s most dangerous drug lords. If Jackson can save her, she’ll do whatever he says, mirror his moves, and try to keep her insta-lust under control. Her next breath depends on it.
Read an Excerpt
Jackson had washed in the kitchen sink and sat in his undershorts on his side of the bed. He’d rolled up a blanket and placed it in the middle of the mattress to reassure her they were only sharing a mattress, not sex. But all his concentration was needed to keep his cock from stirring inside the thin cotton.
The soft snick of the doorknob snagged his attention. Suri stepped out.
“What the hell is that?” he blurted, and then cringed inside because he’d shouted.
She crossed her arms over her breasts, a frown drawing her light brows together.
His gut clenched. Did she realize she’d just plumped up her very generous breasts?
“It is a night gown.”
She said it slowly, like he was a very stupid child. He couldn’t help himself, his gaze raked the flesh bared by the scanty, thigh-high garment. Silk shone in the light from the bare bulb above them, emphasizing her deep curves. Her breasts were nearly bare except for lacy cups that covered her nipples and the bottoms of her fleshy globes.
She turned to reach for the dress she’d draped over the side of the sink, and his jaw dropped. The damn thing didn’t have a back. It dipped so low he could see the dimples at the top of her ass.
Other than two rosy circles on her cheeks, she didn’t seem to be bothered by the fact she was nearly nude. She walked to the pillowcase and stored her clothing, then glanced at him again. “You’re sitting on my side of the bed.”
He clamped his jaw shut. She’d already accused him of being rude, so what the hell? “Since I’m the one who needs rest most—still on a mission, you know—I need this side.” He didn’t know why he didn’t simply give her what she asked for. Maybe if she’d said it more politely, or maybe if he wasn’t afraid she’d notice his boner, he’d have given it to her, but he sat, returning her glare.
His gaze dipped again. The tips of her nipples poked against the lacy cups.
“The water was cold,” she said, her voice breathy.
“I can see that.”
She pointed to the other side of the mattress. “I’ll be fine over there.”
“Good.”
Slowly, she walked around the bed.
Unabashed, he craned his neck to follow her progress. When she bent to plump the pillow, her cleavage deepened, and he could see down her belly in the narrow space. He snapped his gaze back to hers and caught a slight smirk before she wiped it off her face.
She’d played him.
Jackson simmered inside. Didn’t she know he was holding on by a thread? That he would likely have to take a cold shower after she fell asleep. He doubted that would be enough to cool him off; he’d probably have to take himself in hand. Would she hear him through the thin, uninsulated walls?
But in the meantime, two could play this game. He rose and walked across the floor to the light switch, turning as he raised a finger to the switch.
Her gasp was deeply satisfying. “Need a nightlight?” he asked, his voice purring.
