At Her SEAL's Command

He’s got two weeks to win the woman of his dreams.

After a career ending injury, Navy SEAL Dylan Harper heads home to Roseville to pick up the pieces of his life. When his best friend’s little sister returns from a job overseas and needs a place to stay, he sees his future in front of him. The feisty latina bombshell he’s always wanted is under his roof and the timing is finally right.

She doesn’t want to be tied down.

No matter how many fantasies she’s weaved about Dylan, Reya Canales’s suffered at the hands of a control freak before and has no intention of entering a relationship as anything other than an equal. Will Dylan’s past as a Dom threaten their connection, or can happily ever after come with a side of kink?

Tying her up might be just what she needs.

Watch for Books 2 & 3 out later this autumn.
Book 2 - Toying With Her SEAL
Book 3 - Second Chance With Her SEAL

Excerpt from Chapter One

Bleary eyed and running on too little sleep, Dylan Harper pulled back the shower curtain and reached for the hot water knob. A kaleidoscope of bright colors swam before his eyes and as he focused, he groaned.

Three bras hung from the showerhead. The red one was so sheer it’d leave nothing to the imagination. He rather liked using his imagination but nevertheless, the garment sparked an instant need in him. He knew exactly where that bra had been, what it’d been cupping.

Next to the red one hung a lacy, frilly black number. The combination of sweet femininity and racy temptress did crazy things to his mind and libido. Mostly he wanted to know where Reya had worn it, underneath what and would she model it for him.

Damn it all, he couldn’t be thinking like that. He shouldn’t want her with every fiber, tendon, and cell in his body.

But he did.

He’d wanted her for as long as he could remember and thanks to his best friend Teo, her brother, she’d be his house guest until she found an apartment.

He started to turn away but took a lingering look at the third scrap of fabric. This one was a sunny yellow with white polka dots and some sort of light blue trim that made him think of lemonade, daisies and summer sky. It was cute and sweet and different from the other two.

Who was Reya? The sugary soft girl next door or the racy vixen? It didn’t matter. He wouldn’t be finding out, no matter how much he wanted to.

“Reya,” he called, hooking his hands over his hips.

He’d smelled coffee on his way into the bathroom and since he hadn’t put a pot on to brew, he knew she had to be awake. His stomach growled and rolled as he waited for her to appear. Thank goodness he’d had the foresight to take that aspirin and a large glass of water before bed. No more tequila shots with her for as long as he lived.

That woman could drink him under the table.

The fiery little Latina bombshell burst into the small bathroom like a ray of sunshine…dark, glossy sunshine with equally dark but warm eyes that glittered as she swept her gaze up, then down him. She was almost as undressed as he was. A pair of boxer shorts hung low on her hips and a tank top clung to her curves, the thin straps barely held in her cleavage.

“Dylan,” she said with a grin that brought him from half-mast to full staff.

“Your things—” he said and waved toward the skimpy undergarments. How was it possible that such transparent brasseries held up those… Don’t go there, Harper.

“Oh.” She stepped forward, bringing her heat and lush curves closer. Too close.