She pressed End and straightened up, the lost look gone, voice strong, staring into the phone screen as if she was seeing him. “I’m looking forward to tearing your heart out and eating it, you scum-sucking son of a bitch.” She looked up. “We’re taking that fucker down.”

The new Isabel rode back with him in his SUV. It was icy, so Joe had to pay a little attention to the driving, but most of him was focused on her. On the Isabel who wanted to eat Hector Blake’s heart.

Of course, Joe was down with that. Blake was an evil, scum-sucking douche bag, but Joe was used to being the one who planned revenge. It was all he’d done as a soldier. He’d joined as an eighteen-year-old right after 9/11, just like Metal. He hadn’t lost his immediate family, like Metal had, but his country had been attacked and his country was his family.

So through all the harsh training that led to his acing BUD/S and surviving Hell Week and all the years of ops, he’d had one thought—revenge. He was going to get back at the fuckers who’d fucked with his country.

This was the very first time that he was contemplating revenge on a man, or men—because Blake couldn’t do what he’d done without a team behind him—who were fellow citizens.

And he wasn’t even the one who was going to exact revenge. Isabel was. He was merely backup. The muscle. It freaked him out every time he thought about it.

“Stop worrying so hard,” Isabel said with a sidelong glance at him. “I can actually hear the worry vibes. It’s distracting.”

“Sorry. They come naturally.”

“You’re a navy SEAL. You guys aren’t supposed to worry or feel anxious.”

True. He’d never felt anxious when going out on an op. He and his team were as well trained and equipped as it was possible to be. They went out, got the job done and came back. Alive.

“I’m just backup this time. You’ll be on the front lines. If that isn’t crazy making, I don’t know what is.”

“I’ll have you guys with me. All of you are former navy SEALs, even Nick. Felicity on the computer. What can go wrong?”

Joe’s sweaty hands tightened on the steering wheel. “God. Don’t say that! That’s like the pretty young chick who goes down into the cellar alone in her baby doll nightgown when there’s a serial killer on the loose. That’s just inviting trouble.”

“You think too much,” she said. “Don’t think and drive.”

Joe shot her a glance then back to the road. Or rather, took his eyes off her enough to glance at the road. Because Isabel was an eye magnet. So beautiful it hurt and right now she was crackling with energy. What drove her was the thought of whacking a man, or at least putting him behind bars for the rest of her life, but what she made Joe think of was sex. Hot, sweaty sex. She looked almost aroused. High color, eyes gleaming, lips full and pouty with a pillowy look. Thank God she was wearing a down coat and he couldn’t see her breasts because he’d take odds that her nipples were hard.

Or maybe that was wishful thinking because under his coat he was hard as a rock.

Can it, he told himself. No sex tonight. He would hold her and comfort her and give her courage. She also needed to sleep. She’d said she hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since the Massacre. Tomorrow Isabel was going to face a mass murderer. She was going to walk a dangerous tightrope and needed to be firing on all cylinders.

So sex was out tonight.

He clenched the steering wheel harder with wet palms because just thinking sex in the same context as Isabel made his dick kick in his pants. It was going to be hell holding Isabel all night with a massive woodie but he was a SEAL and SEALs were the ones who did the hard things.

His face twitched. Hard was not a word that should be in his head at this moment.

Was Isabel thinking about sex? Who knew what was in her head?

Joe swerved and parked his vehicle. Usually Isabel waited until he got out, rounded the vehicle and opened her door. It was still icy slick and she was often unsteady on her feet. Now, though, she was already halfway to her door by the time he got out. She punched in the code, had it read her thumbprint then just as the heavy steel door they’d put in snicked open she looked over her shoulder at him and the hair rose on the back of his neck.

The look she gave him was trouble. Pure sex, pure trouble. He leaped up the three steps in one bound, pushed the door open above her shoulder and ushered her in. He could hear his blood pulsing in his ears.

Isabel shoved him against the door, stepping forward until she was pressed against him. “Now,” she said in a low voice that sent shivers up his spine.

Now.

Oh God, yes.

Joe was holding her tightly, lost in her kiss, aware that his arms were full of...down coat. Her mouth was soft, warm, tongue licking his lips.

He lifted his mouth for a second. “Off.”

Smart girl, she understood. Good thing, because he wasn’t capable of full sentences. Gloves off, hands undoing the buttons of her coat, then unzipping his. Outer layers off. Now he could feel her shape, the long line of her back, the small waist, the rounded hips. He cupped her ass, lifting her up against his hard-on and she breathed out heavily and bit his lip.

An electric shock ran through him and now it wasn’t just his dick that was hard. He was hard all over, as if his skin was too small to contain him. Muscles tense, solid as rock.

“Clothes,” Isabel said when he lifted his mouth from her to get a better slant. “Now.”

“God yeah,” Joe muttered.

It became a contest to see who could get naked first. He could hardly tell whose hands were doing what because all the blood in his head had gone straight to his dick.

His shirt, her sweater. Pants, jeans.

Something ripped. He didn’t give a fuck because suddenly his hands were full of warm soft smooth woman, naked breasts pressed against his chest, soft belly against his. He smoothed his hand over her backside, pressed her against him. The lips of her sex opened over him and he rubbed himself against her, up and down, feeling her warm and wet.

It was insanely pleasurable but it wasn’t enough.

Joe picked her up, turned her around and placed her against the closed door, hoping he wasn’t slamming her because a drumbeat of urgency was throbbing inside him and he couldn’t think much beyond that.

He hitched her up. “Put your legs around my waist,” he muttered against her mouth and she did, instantly, and there she was, open to him.

Slowly, he told himself and he tried, he really did. He clenched the cheeks of his ass and moved into her as gently as he could and oh God, she was like wet silk.

“Move,” she ordered.

Everything about Isabel was open to him, welcoming him. Her mouth, her arms, her legs, her sex. She was signaling with her entire body that she wanted him. Joe found her mouth with his and pushed forward, as slowly as he could, until he was firmly embedded inside her. He went slowly because he didn’t want to hurt her but also because there was red-hot pleasure so intense he wanted to savor every second, every inch. They were holding each other tightly, kissing deeply, there was nothing anywhere but Isabel.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he said.

“Good.” She licked his ear. “Now move.”

It was like a storm, hot and wild. Joe slammed into her over and over again, not asking if he was hurting her because she was with him every step of the way. Her arms and legs were tightly wound around him, holding him, meeting him. Her head was thudding against the wall so he cupped her head and her kisses deepened.

She went first, with a wild cry in his mouth, clenching hard around him. She threw her head back, white throat exposed and he kissed her there, his tongue feeling the beating of her heart in her neck. He could feel the beating of her heart in her sex, too, throbbing and clenching.