Hawk swallowed Lana’s surprised gasp and slid his tongue into her mouth, claiming, demanding, and marking her as his. Stupid, really, when he’d pushed her away. He’d told her this couldn’t be temporary, but the tears clumping her eyelashes together called him a liar. The way she clung to him told him he couldn’t let go. The warmth of the dying fire wrapped around them, and the sweet scent of her skin made him dizzy. She tasted of innocence, and he felt both compelled and honored she had chosen him.

In the old days, when the plains were clear and the sky stretched farther than the eye could see, Lana’s virtue would have been prized. Her parents would have been waiting just within their tipi, and Hawk would have played her love songs on his flute to show his interest. If she’d come out, wrapped in a blanket which she’d open for him, he would have stepped inside, visibly announcing his intent to court her, and they would allow her parents to make the arrangements. Times were different, and the need for chaperones and waiting until marriage not as necessary, but he still gave her the same honor. He sampled her lips and the smooth expanse of her tongue. Refraining from running his hands over her frame, Hawk kept them on her face, a promise of respect and a whisper of what could come later. Turning his head to get closer, he slid his lips across hers before he pulled back. Lana’s hooded, unfocused gaze met his as he brushed her cheek with his thumb.

“I don’t—” she began, but he pressed a finger over her lips.

“Go to bed. In the morning, we go to Bozeman.”

He ignored her confused glance as he helped her to her feet and walked her to her room. Once at the door, he entered first to make sure her windows were locked and no one was hiding in the darkness.

“Come on,” he prompted.

Lana ambled in, her smart mouth quiet for the moment. It took everything in him to close her door and make the few short steps across the hall to his guest bedroom. His jeans fit too tight over his hardened length, and he wanted, more than anything, to head back into her room, kiss her until she couldn’t breathe, and make love to her with the full moon’s light shining down upon them. He groaned. Thoughts like that had gotten him into this situation in the first place. Hawk didn’t do one-night stands, he never could. The awkward morning after—knowing he should have left in the middle of the night—made him feel cheap, and he hated it. But having a longer relationship, when he could disappear at any time, forced him to leave committed situations alone. He couldn’t tell anyone in his life what he did for a living, and that caused problems. Secrets, no matter how important, festered until trust became an issue.

Of course, none of that would matter now. Not being a SEAL, he didn’t have to worry about hiding who he was or coming up with excuses as to why he suddenly had to leave. Still, nothing had stopped him from crossing the line with his client, and he had a feeling he’d do it again. With a sigh, Hawk forced his mind away from the hot woman just steps away and got out of his clothes. After taking a moment to check over his firearm, he left it on the bedside table and picked up his phone. No time like the present to check in with Welsh about the job and get his mind off Lana.

Welsh picked up after just two rings. “How hot is she, and have you laid her down yet?”

Hawk rubbed the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb. “Shut up.”

“Oi! But you want to. Hey, Snake, Hawk wants to show his bollocks to the client already.”

“Wait—”

The phone shuffled and Snake’s deep voice came on the line. “Okay, I know it’s been a while for you. Do you have condoms? Choked the chicken so you’re primed to go? And, for the love of God, did you take the lube I packed in your bag?”

Hawk couldn’t help it, he burst out laughing and sank on his bed. Growing up Native and on Reservation hadn’t always made things easy for him. Most people outside of his home always wanted to play with his hair or swipe their hand in the air as they’d seen on movies and say “how.” When he’d decided to join the military—his way of being the warrior his bloodline craved—they’d forced him to cut his hair and assimilate to the military way of life. That had been hard for Hawk, despite his love of his country. The world outside was too vast, too different, and his parents had sheltered him. But he’d found he had secret talents no one had guessed. His skill with weapons, fighting, and linguistics had helped fast-track him for promotion, and it didn’t take long for him to be tapped for BUD/s. Meeting Welsh, and becoming a SEAL, had changed his life.

“I just wanted to tell Welsh the job is working out,” Hawk said.

“It came with benefits,” Snake said.

“Shut it,” Hawk answered.

“Good benefits. Hey, Heim, Hawk finally got him a piece.”

“Oh my God.” Hawk groaned as every one of his former SEAL team members jumped on the line to congratulate him for finally having sex again.

“You know Vixen has to vet her or she can’t come around anymore,” Cry Baby said.

Tiffany “Vixen” Cannon had come to the team when she was following ISIS cell leader Abd Al Alim bin Abdul, a resident of Guantanamo Bay. What they all hadn’t expected was that the disappearances of Heim’s wife, Katya, and Snake’s wife, Akwasi, were tied to the prisoner. As a former SIS agent turned CIA agent, Vixen took it upon herself to background check any woman the men even thought of sleeping with.

“Who slept with whom?”

Hawk clicked off the line when he heard Tiffany’s voice in the background. Part of him missed the family atmosphere and he wished he hadn’t called. The whole team was together, with their women, and Hawk wasn’t there. It wasn’t their fault, of course. They’d all tried to continue to include him, but when their phones rang and he naturally reached for his silent one, he realized things had changed. A new team member, Glitz’s cousin from Korea, had taken his place, and Hawk felt displaced. His phone rang and he frowned down at the screen. Not recognizing the number, he pressed it to voicemail; he could listen to the message and know if he needed to call back. Another phone rang. A few minutes later, Lana burst through his door wearing nothing more than a long t-shirt.

“What’s wrong?” he yelled, jerking the blanket over his hips and reaching for his gun.

“There’s a Tiffany on the line, and she said it’s a matter of life and death that I give the phone to you … Oh my God, you’re naked.”

Lana dropped the phone and stumbled back, lifting her hands to cover her mouth. She got an eyeful as he got to his feet, trying unsuccessfully to hold the covers up and grab the phone at the same time. By the time he got it to his ear, Lana was beet-red and pressed against his door frame.

“Eric, darling, who is Lana Augon to you?”

Hawk closed his eyes and lifted his face to the ceiling. Damn CIA and their nosy asses. “She’s my client, T.”

“But she’s seeing you naked, isn’t she? And I understand you may have had sex with her. Don’t make me come find you, I know where you are.”

If Tiffany ever decided to be someone’s stalker, she’d find them under a rock. No one could track better than her, and that was saying a lot coming from Hawk. It had been one of his specialties in the service.

“T, I need this address wiped from databases. She has a stalker after her, and if she’s found, I’ll know it’s someone close to her.”

“Will do, after you tell me who she is.”

“She’s my client, I’ve already told you. I work for Brotherhood Protectors now.”

“Uh huh, but you like her.”

Hawk looked into Lana’s wide eyes. “Yes, I do.”

“Enough to keep her?” T asked.

“I’m looking to find out.”

“That’s not a SEAL answer.”

“I’m not a SEAL—”

“Once a SEAL always a SEAL,” she said, and Hawk heard a round of “Hooyah” behind her. “Don’t make me ask again,” she said sweetly.

There was something terrifying about Tiffany, Hawk decided. “Yes,” he forced out.

“Good to know. We’ll be down to visit soon. Ta-ta for now.” She disconnected before he could say anything else.

“Who was that?” Lana asked.

“Vixen, and you don’t want to test her, but she’s good people. She is marrying one of my ex-teammates.”

“And she has my number?”

“Long story for another night. Go to bed, everything is alright.”

Lana looked down at his waistline, and he realized he’d let the cover slip. Hawk scrambled to pick up the sheet, even as he hardened.

“Go, woman. I’m being respectful here.”

Lana gave him a saucy smile, one he knew she threw at the cameras, and his heart kicked into overdrive.

“I can’t wait,” she whispered.

And he knew just what she was talking about.