Leather, Lace and Rock-n-Roll (SEALS, Inc., Book 1)

Leather, Lace and Rock-n-Roll

Max pulled into the nearest parking space. Hawke crammed on a baseball cap and dark sunglasses and waited for Max to open his door. After Max circled the vehicle twice in his routine check for anything unusual, they sauntered through the front door of the office building.

Max nodded at the security officer seated behind a row of monitors and then steered him onto the waiting elevator. Within the next 30 seconds, the heavy metal elevator door opened, depositing them just outside a closed office door. Hawke glanced at the nameplate. Newberry & Tremaine.

Max gave him a sideways glance. "You ready for this?"

Hawke grinned. Nothing, not even a cold metal zipper could keep him out. "Hell yeah."

Max grasped the doorknob, strolled into the office, and then nodded for Hawke to enter.

Two steps inside, Hawke stopped short when he caught sight of an amazing heart-shaped ass covered in what appeared to be red silk waving hello from the reception desk. Hawke raised his glasses and looked at Max. Sorry sucker was zeroed in on the same thing.

Hawke replaced his glasses and cleared his throat. Max grinned.

"Hold your horses." Muffled by the position, the voice at the other end released a heavy dose of sass into the room. "I dropped my earring and it rolled down here somewhere. Oh, here it is!"

As soon as the figure stood and faced them, Hawke knew this would be an interesting meeting.

The tiny blonde with the gorgeous rack pocketed a gold hoop earring and gave her skirt a tug.  "May I-" Her voice suddenly broke in mid-sentence. "Holy cow."

Hawke flipped through his mental rolodex. Karen?  Kelley?

"Cameron Tremaine." She stuck out her hand and grinned. "And you are Jaydon Hawke."

"Hawke." He shifted and accepted her outstretched hand, surprised she didn't seem bothered that both he and Max could probably describe her lingerie in great detail.

"Okay, then, Hawke." The devil danced in her eyes as she flicked a gaze toward the back corner office. "Rachel's on the phone. She'll be right with you."

"Thank you."

Cameron's ever-present grin remained glued on her face as she turned to Max.  "And since you've already manhandled me, I guess I should get your name."

"Max."

"Max ..." she hesitated, obviously expecting him to give his last name.

"Just Max."

"Oh come on, big guy," she taunted. "Even prisoners give their name, rank and serial number."

Hawke wasn't sure if it was the thought of her panties or not, but his blood pressure rose a few degrees. Nobody, women included, challenged Max. His size alone discouraged it. Yet this one, petite, blue-eyed bombshell didn't appear to give a damn.

"Behave, Cameron."

Another wave of heat rippled his skin as he turned to see who dared tame the sassy lioness. Relief unknotted his stomach muscles when he saw Rachel Newberry, the same dragonslayer who had conquered the fiery jaws of his metal zipper.

"Mr. Hawke, we meet again."

As he grasped her outstretched hand, Hawke took a second to consider his strategy while his shaded eyes bounced between the two women. Should he leave Max with Cameron? His first thought was to reschedule, exit stage left, and run. Except that Cameron stood between him and the door and there was just something about her that, well, scared him.  Instead, he waited for Rachel to say something. But she didn't.