Coyote Heat (SEALs On Fire) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Coyote Heat

  Copyright

  Dedication

  PRAISE FOR AUTHOR

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  About the Author

  Also Available

  Thank you for purchasing this Wild Rose Press, Inc. publication.

  Coyote Heat

  by

  Desiree Holt

  SEALs On Fire Series

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Coyote Heat

  COPYRIGHT © 2012 by Desiree Holt

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: [email protected]

  Cover Art by Diana Carlile

  The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  PO Box 708

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

  Visit us at www.thewilderroses.com

  Publishing History

  First Scarlet Rose Edition, January 2013

  Digital ISBN 978-1-61217-772-4

  Published in the United States of America

  Dedication

  To all the military who put their lives on the line

  every day that we all may live in freedom.

  I wish for all of you a woman who loves with understanding and understands with love.

  And to the Sassy Seven, best friends ever.

  PRAISE FOR AUTHOR

  Desiree Holt

  AND HER BOOKS

  CRACK THE WHIP

  “…Desiree Holt is a master writer of erotic romance and she unapologetically pushes the sexual envelope in Crack the Whip. Readers are going to love this latest installment in the Cowboy Kink series!”

  ~Long and Short Reviews

  SLAPPING LEATHER

  “SLAPPING LEATHER teases and engages reader's hearts and minds with its claiming, raw and untamed desires between two lovers meant for each other.

  ~The Romance Studio

  BITE THE BULLET

  “An erotically charged tale that shows the pleasure that a strong man can derive by giving control and trust to a unique woman…”

  ~Night Owl Reviews

  BUCKSKIN, BOOTS AND BONDAGE

  “Buckskins, Boots and Bondage is a story filled with deep-seated passion, erotic kink, sensual adventure and characters that are impossible to forget after the last word is read.”

  ~Shannon, The Romance Studio

  Chapter One

  Miguel Cruz, code name Coyote, stared through the wall of windows of the beach house to the azure waters of the Gulf Mexico. The sun, beginning its descent, was a shimmering ball of fire.

  What a great place for a vacation.

  It was a stroke of luck that Dagger was such good friends with movie star Brice Benson and they’d scored the use of this Key West beach house for a few days. Or at least until their pagers went off, recalling them to base.

  SEAL Team Arapaho had just been shifted to standby after a tiring and bloody mission in Afghanistan, and they were ready for some cold beer and hot women. They could be recalled to their base at Dam Neck at any moment so they’d better get their asses in gear if they wanted to have any fun at all. He and the other team members had talked about taking the jeeps into Key West and scout the action for the evening. He glanced at his watch. Friday, five o’clock and he was ready for the weekend of sun and fun to get started.

  “Who’s still here?” he called, looking up the stairs to the second floor. “Anyone need a ride to town, or did y’all run off and leave me?”

  “Zeus and I are here.” Ren “Ghost” Ramsey walked into the living room from the kitchen. “The others took off earlier and left the second SUV for us. I definitely need a ride into town. I’m meeting my best friend from back home in Oklahoma.”

  “Yeah? What’s his name?”

  The tall, broad-shouldered man grinned. “Her name is Sadie. She’s a doctor and she’s taking a couple of days off so we can hang together.”

  Coyote grinned. “Best friend, huh? How come I’ve never heard you talk about her? You been best friends for a long time?”

  Ghost’s skin flushed beneath his dark tan. “Since we were kids. And that’s all it is. We’re just…reconnecting.”

  “Is that what you call it? Okay, okay.” He held up his hands when Ghost started toward him. “I’ll deliver you to your friend.”

  “Let’s get it together, then.” Coyote grabbed the set of keys left on the hall table for him. “Hey, Zeus,” he called, then laughed. Jesus Calderon had taken the code name of Zeus, and the team members loved to tease him by calling out Hey, Zeus, a play on the pronunciation of his name. “Move it. This is the best time to hit Sunset Pier.”

  And find himself a warm body for the next couple of days.

  That’s all it would be. He’d long ago decided the single status suited him best. Team Arapaho often teased him that he planned to notch the name of every female he met on his bedpost. That was fine with him. If you didn’t give away a piece of yourself, you didn’t get it shredded and stomped on. He’d seen too many marriages break up because of the kind of life men like him and his teammates had to live. There just weren’t that many special women any more.

  This last mission had nearly gone south so they were all glad to have a place to let it all hang out for a few days. A place with luxurious guest rooms, every amenity that a true Hollywood star could fit into a vacation home, and—courtesy of the same star—a well stocked refrigerator and bar. Being able to shower and not worry about the hot water running out was also a big plus.

  Now he was ready for cold drink, a warm body, and hot sex. The hotter the better. And in the tourist town of Key West, he expected to find a veritable banquet of females from which to choose. He was already salivating at the thought.

  “We’re burning daylight, guys,” he called as he cranked the ignition. He glanced at the house next door, knowing the current tenant would make Zeus’s stay in Key West one to remember. He hoped he got to see the look of surprise on his teammate’s face when he got a look at her.

  “We’re coming, we’re coming,” Ghost huffed as he and Zeus climbed into the vehicle. “Jesus, keep your pants on.”

  “Yeah.” Zeus laughed. “At least until later tonight.”

  “I’m heading to Sunset Pier,” he said, pulling away from the house. “Ghost, I know you’re meeting your best friend there. Zeus, you good with that place, too?”

  “Give me a cold beer and a hot woman, and I’m in heaven.”

  As usual on a Friday night Key West streets were jammed with a mix of residents and tourists. Coyote had been here a couple of times on his own, and he loved the excitement and color of the city. If ever there was a place to forget his troubles and get happy, this was it. They moved slowly through the traffic on crowded Duval Street until they reached Sunset Pier at the very foot. Built where the Gulf of Mexico and the Atlantic Ocean met, the restaurant and bar jutted into the water.

  Coyote considered himself lucky to snag a rare parking space just as someone was leaving.

  “I’ll see you guys later,” Ghost said as he moved off toward the bar.

  “Yeah, say hi to your friend for us,” Coyote teased.

  Ghost grinned and flipped him the bird.

  “What was that all about?�
� Zeus wanted to know.

  Coyote explained it to him, and Zeus just laughed. “Yeah, we’ll have to get all the details on his friend. Okay, I’m heading straight for the bar.”

  “Right behind you.”

  The pier was jammed, both the covered area and the pier where tables were shaded with colorful umbrellas.

  “I’ll get us a couple of beers,” Zeus volunteered. “You see if you can find us some pretty ladies to sit with.”

  Coyote nodded his head and turned, smacking his elbow into something soft but solid.

  “Watch it, you troglodyte,” a sharp female voice spit at him.

  He would have laughed if the woman standing next to him hadn’t looked so mad. He guessed her height at five-foot-four. Her heart-shaped face was framed by a tumble of rich brown curls streaked with gold. Her eyes were the color of the Atlantic, but right now, they looked like they were spitting electric blue fire.

  His gaze dropped lower, taking in her navy and white dress, a simple thing with narrow straps with a bodice that hugged her lovingly. It hugged her even more since he’d apparently knocked into her and made her spill her drink all over herself. Holy shit! This was better than a wet T-shirt contest. He couldn’t take his eyes from the way the material clung to her breasts, nipples outlined in detail. Nor could he do anything about his cock, which immediately stood at attention and begged to salute. He could only hope she was too distracted to catch the bulge at his crotch.

  “Well?” she demanded. “What are you going to do about it?”

  “Apologize? Help?” He reached between two bodies at the bar, grabbed a handful of small paper napkins, and started blotting her dress.

  “Not that, you jackass.” She used her free hand to smack his away. “Keep your paws off of me.”

  Coyote stepped back an inch, all the space allowed, and held his hands up in front of him. “Okay, okay. I said I’m sorry.” He flashed her what he thought of as his unbeatable smile. “How about if I buy you a drink?”

  If she was outraged before, she looked to be at the screaming stage now.

  “A drink? A drink? Are you crazy? Look at what you did to me.” She dumped what was left in the glass over his head. “Maybe that will teach you some manners.” She turned to the girl standing beside her taking it all in with unconcealed humor. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Leave? But Cori, we just got here.”

  “So? Big deal. If all we’re going to find are jerks like that, then it isn’t worth staying. Besides, I’ve got to get out of these wet clothes. Damn.” She groaned. “And I was really looking forward to tonight, too.”

  She turned on her heel and shoved her way through the crowd, leaving her friend to hustle to keep up with her.

  “Here.” Zeus shoved a handful of material at him.

  Coyote looked down at it. “What’s this?”

  “Sunset Pier T-shirt. I figured you’d need something to wipe that egg off your face.” He slapped Coyote on the back. “Go change. It was worth the price of the shirt just to watch. I think I’m going to head home, if it’s all the same to you. I’m just not in the mood tonight.”

  “You want the keys to the car?”

  Zeus shook his head. “No, I think a walk will be good for me.”

  “Okay. Later.”

  “Don’t dump any more drinks.” Zeus grinned and walked away.

  Grumbling to himself, Coyote pushed and shoved his way to the men’s room, stripped off the soaked shirt, and exchanged it for the dry one. In a spurt of anger, he tossed the wet garment into the trash and dusted his hands, as if erasing any trace of the spitfire who’d doused him. What was with her, anyway? It wasn’t as if he’d done it on purpose.

  And what was up with his cock? Up being the operative word. It acted as if he hadn’t had any in weeks. Oh, wait. He hadn’t. He’d been fighting the grit of the sands in Afghanistan and the brutal winds of the Hindu Kush Mountains. Usually his body didn’t react so instantly to a female, but damn! This one had electrified him from the git-go. And not just because she was wearing her wet dress like a second skin. There was just…something about her that struck at his core.

  How could he find her again? Would the bartender know who she was? Was she a tourist or a local? Shaking his head, he yanked open the door of the men’s room and headed back to the bar. The place was even more crowded than before, a feat he hadn’t thought possible. Now if Coyote could just find Miss Hot Body again, his night would be off to a better start. He inched his way through the tight jam of people, scanning the crowd for a glimpse of her.

  There!

  He spotted her off to the side of the bar, leaning against the railing with her friend. She held a fresh drink in her hand, but she’d apparently gone home to change or done a quick shopping trip on Duval Street. She wore white shorts and a blue tank top that matched the color of her eyes. She stood chatting with her friend, but a muscular blond surfer type was hanging over her shoulder, making Coyote’s anger bubble up.

  I found her first.

  Well, he didn’t know that for sure, but he wasn’t about to let someone bump him off her radar. Ignoring the rude comments as he shoved past people, he worked his way to where she was standing and planted himself next to her, elbowing surfer dude aside. What was her name? Cori. Right. That was what her friend had called her.

  “Hey, Cori. You came back. Good.” He took in every bit of her body. “And I like your outfit.”

  “Like I care.” She looked at him and moved her drink to the opposite hand, away from him. “You aren’t going to douse me twice,” she warned. “Why don’t you go bother someone else?”

  “Please. I’m glad to see you here again so I can apologize once more. Really. I’m not usually that clumsy.”

  “Okay. Apology accepted.” She waved her free hand. “Now go away.”

  “This guy bothering you, Cori?” Surfer dude had moved closer in a protective stance.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “No,” Coyote said at the same time.

  “And she’s already got a new drink,” surfer dude growled.

  “Chill, Deacon,” Cori’s friend said. “The woman can speak for herself.” She smiled at Coyote. “If Cori’s not interested, you can buy me a drink.”

  But he was focused on Cori. “I’m hoping we can start over. My teammates and I are staying at a buddy’s house here in Key West. I’m on a few days leave, and I’d like to spend at least an hour or two of it with you.”

  He always got that out there first, to let whatever woman he was with know this was definitely short term.

  Cori’s expression softened just a little. “You’re in the military?”

  “Uh, huh. Navy.”

  He saw interest flame in her friend’s eyes. “Really? Are you guys SEALs?”

  But before he could deflect the question, Cori turned toward him, studying his face. “Military? Never mind, then. Go bother someone else.”

  Coyote frowned. What was going on here? “You got something against the military?”

  “You could say we don’t see eye to eye,” she told him.

  “Look.” He started to reach for her elbow then stopped himself. “I’m just here for a few days, trying to get rid of the stress from our last mission. I’m sorry I spilled the drink on you, and I’m even more sorry if someone in uniform treated you badly. But that wasn’t me and I’d really like you to let me apologize to you.”

  “Do it, Cori,” her friend urged, then grinned. “He’s cute. If you don’t want him I’ll take him.”

  Cori shot a glare at the other woman before she turned back to him. “Okay. You can apologize.”

  “Then you’ll let me buy you that drink?”

  She nodded. “One drink. But let’s see if we can grab a couple of seats right out at the end of the pier. That’s the best place to catch the sunset. You get the drinks, I’ll steal two chairs.”

  “What are you drinking?”

  “A margarita.” She seemed to relax just a hair
. “What else. We’re in Margaritaville, right?”

  “Hey, what about me?” her friend teased.

  Cori just grinned at her as she moved away from the rail. “You can entertain Deacon.”

  Deacon didn’t seem too pleased with the arrangement, but Coyote didn’t care.

  It took a few minutes for him to get the attention of one of the bartenders, neither of whom seemed the least bit phased about the crowd of people shouting at them. Holding Cori’s drink and a beer for himself up high, he managed to reach the end of the pier without spilling anything. Sure enough, somehow Cori had managed to steal two folding chairs from someplace.

  She sat with her legs stretched out, head leaned back, and eyes closed, the sun kissing her face. Coyote wanted to caress all that soft skin and run his fingers through the rich brown hair, highlights glinting in the sun. The tank top was cut just low enough to see the upper swell of her breasts and the beginning of her cleavage. His palms itched to cup those mouth-watering mounds.

  Below the cuffs of her shorts, her legs were as smooth and tan as the rest of her. Toned calves ended in slender ankles and graceful feet. Strappy sandals exposed her toes painted hot pink. Coyote wanted to take every one of them into his mouth and suck. And her scent, a combination of vanilla and lilacs, drifted across his nostrils on the early evening breeze, tantalizing him. His cock was sending him messages again, messages he was in no position to act on.

  And yet, for all her unconscious sexuality—because there was no other way to explain it—there was something so erotic about her. A freshness to her sensuality. For all the women he’d had, and there had been more than he wanted to count, none of them had made his body react so quickly. But more than that, even in the brief moments they had together so far—at last half of which could be called antagonistic—she stirred something deep inside him that he wasn’t sure he wanted to acknowledge.

  When he leaned down to hand her the drink, he caught a whiff of her scent again, the clean fragrance of vanilla with that hint of lilac, and his aching cock began to silently beg. Jesus, this woman was just doing it to him, and she didn’t even realize it. Easing himself into the chair next to her, he stretched out his legs to rest his feet on the rail.