SEAL Under Covers (SEAL Brotherhood Series Book 3) by Sharon Hamilton

rest of the window, kicking it with a swift upward jab with his right foot. Glass was scattered all over the street. Shards sparkled like diamonds in the night.
    In a cloud of gray smoke and one large backfire the truck disappeared into blackness.
    She prayed it wasn’t the last time she would see him.
     

Chapter 6
     
    Armando cranked the steering wheel and screeched around the first corner he could find. He’d double back and make sure she was okay. Gina was right about one thing. He could get his ass in a sling for tampering with the local riffraff. Didn’t matter that they were the scum of the earth. As a SEAL, he was required to take the high road, even if that meant it cost him his life. He was used to risking his life. He wasn’t used to risking the career he felt he was made for just so he could get into a fight with a lowlife biker at a gang bar. Not the way he’d envisioned his discharge happening.
    And that’s why this was so freakin’ hard, to leave her alone with a cretin who clearly had no boundaries and had trouble controlling his rage. That sort of dude deserved worse than a kick to the gut and a broken nose. Armando had no room in his “decent zone” for bad guys who liked to beat up women and kids.
    For a street urchin, Gina sure knew how to take care of herself. Surprisingly well put together, he thought. Carried a concealed firearm, which was against the law in California. But she didn’t appear to be fazed. So maybe Gina was tougher than Armando thought. Maybe she was one of those GI Janes who got booted for bad behavior. Cavorting with the wrong officer or married man. Yet he couldn’t see her being that kind of a slut. She’d already been hurt, she’d said.
    No, there definitely was something more about Miss Gina. His traitorous body part was enthusiastically looking for another close encounter, in spite of the fact he’d been sent away—at gunpoint, no less. Didn’t matter if the gun was aimed at the ground or at the beefy asshole who interrupted them.
    He slowly pulled around two more streets, through a one-way alley and then parked perpendicular to Gina’s street, shutting off his lights as he did so.
    Motorcycles rumbled down the street and soon three Harleys parked beside what must have been Sam’s bike, propped in the shadows at the edge of the complex. He’d been stupid not to notice the vehicle. He’d been distracted by the feel of her skin as he ran his fingers down her arm, the way her perfect breast warmly caressed the right side of his torso as they drove. He loved the way she smelled, all spicy and almond, not like the cheap perfume he’d scented on hookers and other girls who frequented this neighborhood.
    This evening, as he’d looked down at her, with those big brown eyes and dark hair splayed all over Fredo’s second seat, he’d felt as if she was his first woman. Like it was her first experience too. This resembled a sweet high school thing he’d forgotten about. Something innocent and good, the way she made love to him. It was clean and dignified. Took his breath away how much he wanted to please her. Go slow. Make it last forever. And fuck! She’d cried, for Chrissakes. At first, he’d thought he’d hurt her. But no, she was overcome.
    Overcome? When had that happened to him before? He checked his memory. Was she a virgin and he didn’t notice?
    He discarded that thought. He gripped the door handle, ready to bolt from the truck when he heard the police sirens.
    Thank God.
    A short tussle ensued, and tempers flashed between two uniformed officers in the first patrol car and the bikers. Flashlights darted everywhere, accentuated by strobing red and blue lights, waking up Hell itself with the commotion. So much for low profile.
    An EMT van arrived, but Sam was up on his feet, kicking the dirt with his black boot and probably swearing like any crusty sailor would if he got an anchor dropped on his foot. At one point Sam groped for Gina’s arm, lurching his