Pleasing Her SEAL

by Anne Marsh

  The odds of Maddie being awake at shortly after sunrise seemed minimal.

  Sure enough, Levi responded almost immediately.

  Sleeping. I can be inside in two if she needs a good-night kiss.

  His reaction was instinctive—and telling.

  Hands off.

  And of course Levi ran with it.

  No hands. Got it. Tongue okay?

  Never leave that SEAL a loophole. Instead, he went for honesty.

  I’m out for an hour.

  After Levi confirmed that he’d keep watch over Maddie and no one—not even the zombie overlord in the yet-to-happen zombie apocalypse—would get to her, Mason let himself relax. He dropped onto the lounger and rolled over, concealing the handgun tucked against the small of his back. This early in the morning, none of the resort guests should be up and about—they seemed to prefer Maddie’s version of early morning, which kicked off at lunchtime—but better safe than sorry. Monkeys and birds chatted back and forth in the treetops, and the faint pounding of the surf traveled across the lagoon. Yeah. He’d slept in worse places. This would do.

  He set his internal clock and let sleep take him.

  * * *

  FANTASY ISLAND CAME with a sleeping beauty.

  If Maddie had known Mason was the reward for early-morning exercise, she’d have jumped out of bed. He looked downright edible—and sound asleep. Poor baby. She stepped off the path and into the lookout point. Just as pretty as it had been the other morning, when Mason had startled her and she’d lost her memory card. Calm blue lagoon with a clear view of the fringing reef. Lots of palm trees and just a slice of white sugary beach. She was looking at calendar material.

  The man didn’t hurt, either. She told herself that her heart banging in her ears had nothing to do with Sleeping Beauty, even if he did look cute, sprawled facedown on the love seat. When he didn’t so much as twitch as she approached, she checked to make sure he was breathing—which he was, because his lungs were undoubtedly as fit as the rest of him—and then checked out his mighty fine ass in his cargo pants. He wore the usual pair of industrial-strength boots and the fitted cotton T-shirt that seemed to be his wardrobe staple when he wasn’t sporting chef whites. Today he looked like a mixed-martial-arts champion or someone else suitably large and rough around the edges. The only thing missing was a sleeve of tattoos. God, she loved a good tattoo.

  Almost perfect, but not quite...

  Huh. Maybe that could be fixed.

  She rummaged in her bag—the joys of being prepared—and fished out a stick of sunscreen. She was an excellent almost girlfriend, because this was classy colored sunscreen that came with cartoon characters on the tube. But really, she had a problem. What to write? The thick, corded arm over his face severely restricted the amount of available real estate. His other arm stretched across his head. She looked up at the sky. Perfect. It was like having her very own darkroom—he’d be sporting her extraspecial message in about another hour. Delicately, she finger painted a word onto his arm, outlining three perfect letters in the cream. H-O-T.

  She was just settling in to enjoy herself when Mason came awake. One minute, her sleeping beauty was sprawled out in a power nap, and the next he’d rolled, pulling her beneath him and pinning her wrists with one hand. His hand gripped her jaw, the other pressed over her throat.

  Oh. My. God. Mental note: don’t poke the sleeping giant.

  The sunscreen fell from her hand as her heart kicked into overdrive. Mason looked...scary. And she wasn’t entirely sure she could breathe.

  “It’s just me,” she said hoarsely.

  He blinked and looked down at her. He didn’t ease up on his grip on her jaw. “Maddie?”

  She twisted her head, trying to dislodge his hand. Downplay it. “Somebody wakes up grumpy.”

  He stared down at her, as if he had no idea how he’d ended up on top of her. She’d draw him a diagram—later. She wriggled, because the position had both possibilities and some serious drawbacks. Breathing, for instance, fell into the drawback category. Her man seriously outweighed her and it felt as though a water buffalo had parked himself on her boobs. Taking a deep breath was impossible.

  Help.

  “Maddie?” The way he rasped her name in a sleep-roughened voice fell into the possibilities column. He whipped his hand away from her throat, a move she appreciated even as she made a mental note to never, ever poke him awake in the middle of the night. “Fuck.”

  “I’m good with that,” she said, because making a joke was so much better than dealing with unwelcome trembling she couldn’t quite stop. When had Mason gotten so fierce looking? “If you’re volunteering to put out.”

  He didn’t look particularly pleased to see her, but he also didn’t wear his emotions on his face. She wiggled again, to remind him that she was still pinned beneath him—with the water buffalo parked on her chest. And, thank you, downtown interest from Mason. She also had to wonder why he still hadn’t let go of her wrists.

  “Are we playing domination games? Because I’ve never done that before. You could be my first.”

  He sprang off her, and that was about as far from flattering as it was possible to get.

  “Did I hurt you? Can you breathe?”

  She took a quick inventory because he looked so serious. It was cute, the way he worried. “I’m a little more 2-D than 3-D at the moment, but I’ll live. And I’ve got my inhaler if I need it.”

  He thunked his head back on the lounger and groaned. He hadn’t been all that rough, so she had no idea what his problem was. Maybe he was still wrestling with his inner gentleman—in which case, she was probably the one who needed to do the apologizing, because her inner bad girl had come out days ago with one goal and one goal only: get Mason into bed.

  He pushed up on one elbow. She, on the other hand, was content to lie there and stare up at him. Who needed to get all energetic about things? Not only was he gorgeous when he was all sleepy and rumpled, but his eyes held a concern that she liked all too much. She really didn’t think she was just a convenient vacation hookup for him. Really. She didn’t.

  Or maybe that was just more wishful thinking on her part.

  “No bruises. No broken bones,” she said cheerfully. “In fact, I’m as good as new.”

  He rubbed his thumb over her throat, smoothing the skin he’d strong-armed. “Hurting you is the last thing I want to do. You need to be careful when I’m asleep. I don’t—”

  “Wake up well?” Understatement. On the other hand, his words sure implied he planned on doing some more waking up around her, and just the thought had her heart hammering at her rib cage, as if the thing could leap straight out and into Mason’s arms. If she was lucky, the waking up would happen after a night of really hot sex. She could suggest a practice session. Or two. Or six...

  “Yeah.” He dragged a hand down his face. “Look—”

  She needed to point one thing out. “If you apologize, I’m going to kill you.”

  He nodded. “Duly noted, although I feel the need to point out that apologizing would be the polite thing to do.”

  “Because you pinned me?” She shrugged. “You startled me. I got over it. To be honest, I found it kind of sexy.”

  He made a choked sound.

  See? The man really didn’t have serial killer tendencies after all. She’d caught him at a bad moment. That was all.

  “I’ve shocked you.” She crossed her arms over her chest. Partly because she needed to do something with her hands, and putting them on Mason’s body was apparently not an option this afternoon, but also because the move gave her some serious cleavage. From the way Mason’s eyes darkened, he’d definitely noticed. He didn’t make a move, though. The man sure had discipline.

  She sighed. “You’re going to insist on being a gentleman, aren’t you?” />
  “Probably.” He stood up. “Come on.”

  “Where are we going?” Say to bed, her inner bad girl begged shamelessly. Because that was where we really want to be.

  “I’ll walk you back to your place because I’m a gentleman,” he said, flashing a grin. She made a face. “How can you look like such a bad boy but be such a nice guy?”

  * * *

  MASON AND LEVI had done BUD/S training together before they’d shipped out to the same unit. That practically made them an old married couple, but right now Mason had divorce on his mind. He tracked Levi down and found the guy doing push-ups on the beach. Levi turned his head as Mason stormed the beach.

  “What’s up?”

  He tackled Levi and the man collapsed with a satisfying thud on the sand.

  “You couldn’t give me a heads-up that Maddie was moving?”

  Levi grunted and bucked upward. Mason turned his own head just in time to avoid a fistful of sand aimed at his eyes. Levi fought dirty, which was okay, because Mason was no gentleman, either. No matter what Maddie believed. He rolled, using his weight to pin Levi down.

  “We’re having a conversation about this,” he ground out. He was in a pissy mood and he knew it, but he didn’t need Maddie sneaking up on him when he was sleeping. “She was perfectly safe,” Levi said, hooking a leg around his. Mason went briefly airborne before his back met the sand. Jesus. That hurt. Wasn’t sand supposed to be soft? Surging up, he went for Levi, pulling the other man back down.

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because I followed her up that hill. I even waited while she checked you out, did her thing and you woke up. Some dating advice? Choking the girl is a guaranteed way to lose the girl unless she’s into some really kinky stuff you’d be better off avoiding.”

  Okay. So Maddie hadn’t been out alone. He let Levi’s head go, enjoying the satisfying thunk when Levi’s skull connected with the sand.

  “Also?” Levi continued. “You do realize that woman is trouble, right? Because the questions you haven’t asked yet are why did she climb that hill and what did she do before she woke you up.”

  Huh. From the devilish grin on Levi’s face, Maddie hadn’t been engaging in a little healthy exercise. And he hadn’t thought to ask her that. Come to think of it, she wasn’t much for exercise, period.

  “Tell me,” he demanded.

  “Nice memo.” Levi pointed to Mason’s forearm. “By midnight, you’re going to get the full effect. H-O-T stood out on the suntanned skin of his forearm in fading neon pink letters. He raised his forearm and sniffed at it. Sunscreen.

  “Protection’s important,” Levi said with mock seriousness. “Next time, take a bath in SPF 1,200 and you won’t have this problem.”

  Hell. He’d been so off his game, waking up and finding Maddie pinned beneath him where—no matter what she’d said—he could have hurt her badly. He’d been trained in all kinds of martial arts and hand-to-hand-combat techniques, so he’d reacted on instinct and now he didn’t trust himself around her. Not until he could guarantee he wouldn’t hurt her. Even if hurting her was something he’d never do when he was awake, how did he shut down his gut reactions?

  Levi slid him a glance. “You like her.”

  “What’s not to like?” He rolled over onto his back, shading his eyes with his arm. Maybe he was getting too old for this shit. His back hurt. His neck hurt.

  “I mean like like her.” Levi went back to doing push-ups. The man was unstoppable when it came to PT.

  “Are we in middle school?”

  “If you want to date her for real, date her.”

  “Are you offering dating advice now?” he scoffed. Levi gave a shoulder shrug and put his right hand on his back before dropping into another set of perfect push-ups. “I’ve dated recently, which is more than I can say for you.”

  He started counting off reps.

  Following suit, Mason rolled over and straightened his arms, pushing into his first rep. There was no point in wasting valuable PT time.

  The thing was, he’d kissed Maddie and enjoyed the hell out of himself. She was someone special, and he wanted the chance at more kisses. And possibly something else, although the else part kind of scared him, almost as much as it made him want to wrap his arms around her and hold on. “We kissed,” he admitted gruffly. Levi had never struck him as the kind of guy who did relationships, but he was desperate. At this point he’d take any advice that didn’t come from a stupid magazine column.

  Levi counted off another ten push-ups, then hit the sand for a breather. Thirty seconds recovery, Mason knew, and he’d do another set. “Where?” he asked.

  “Are we girlfriends? Do you really need details?”

  Levi gave him a droll look. “I need to know what I’m working with here. Was this a quick-brush-on-the-cheek kind of kiss, or the kind that involves removing clothing?”

  Punching his teammate seemed like the more appealing option at the moment. Instead, he finished his own set of reps, welcoming the burn in his arm muscles. “B,” he gritted out.

  Levi whistled. “Good for you.”

  “She thinks I’m boyfriend material.”

  Levi grinned at him. “And that’s a problem? I thought you wanted to get to know her.”

  “She thinks I’m a chef.”

  Levi shrugged and pushed up. “So? You can cook. It’s not false advertising.”

  Which was splitting hairs. “But I’m not here on Fantasy Island to cook.”

  “So she gets a side of bonus SEAL. I’m still not seeing the problem.”

  “I took her laptop,” he said through clenched teeth. “There are things I’m not telling her. How do you think she’d feel about that? How would anyone feel?”

  Levi sighed. “This would be so much easier if you didn’t have a moral compass.”

  Right. “Not helpful.”

  “Do you like her?”

  Mason examined his arm and the pale words painted onto his skin. He could feel the grin tugging at his mouth. “Yeah. I do.”

  “So get to know her. See where this goes. Maybe it’s just a hookup.”

  “You think she’s using me for sex?”

  “Would you be complaining? It’s Fantasy Island. Not Uptight Island, Vestal Virgin Island or Not Tonight Dear Island.”

  “That was—”

  “Crass?” Levi switched arms. “Absolutely. But it’s also true. See what she wants. Maybe she just wants to explore her options with you, have a good time. In which case, great. The two of you can go enjoy each other and then, when our time’s up, you can leave with a clear conscience. But if there’s more to it than that and you decide you want to keep seeing her, you’ll figure out the logistics later.”

  “That plan sucks.”

  “True,” Levi acknowledged. “But we both know you’re going with it anyhow. Stick with the script and you’ll be fine.”

  “You really think a lousy quiz is going to turn me into the perfect boyfriend?”

  Not that he wasn’t willing to give it a shot for Maddie, but he was also a realist. He was career military and a SEAL. He was more than a little rough around the edges, and he definitely wasn’t domesticated, even if he could cook.

  Levi just grinned. “At least you’ll get sex out of it, right?”

  To hell with PT and push-ups. He launched himself at Levi again. The funny thing was that, in trying to follow the magazine script about being the perfect boyfriend, he was happier than he’d ever been. He liked Maddie. She was funny and brave and bold as hell—and that was before he’d managed to get her into bed. He had no doubts whatsoever that she’d rock his world there, too. But all that sass came with a side of vulnerability. She hid it well, but it was there, and he didn’t plan on being the asshole who hurt her more. Levi, on the other
hand, was fair game.

  “You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

  Levi twisted, reversing the hold. “You’re fixated on kissing. Do it more. Talk about it less.”

  “Be respectful,” he growled, and followed up the order with a second takedown. Levi hit the sand hard.

  Maddie was trying to do a job, and he respected that. After all, he was here on a workcation as well, courtesy of Uncle Sam. A lot of other SEALs would have tried to score with her. She was a stunning woman, downright beautiful, her lush curves a whole lot of sexy. Holding back was the last thing he wanted to do.

  “Got it.” Levi elbowed him. “But I still recommend more kissing.”

  Yeah. He wanted more kissing, too, but he was also old enough to know that sometimes making out wasn’t the answer.

  Like Maddie, his ex-wife had been fun and the life of the party. He didn’t really know what he was supposed to have done differently. They’d gotten married; he’d shipped out. Maybe his mistake had been believing the paycheck and long-distance love would be enough. Maybe expecting her to wait was unrealistic. But he’d said the words in front of her family preacher and he’d meant them. There was nothing wrong with laughter and a good time. He was all for that. He just didn’t have any practice at what came after the “I dos” and was batting zero for one in the department of happily-ever-after. Married at eighteen. Divorced at twenty. His kissing experience didn’t count for shit.

  8

  Mr. Fantasy Fodder continues to live up to his name. I’m a very happy camper, although he still seems reluctant to get naked with me. Is there some kind of secret vacation hookup etiquette that I need to learn? Or does he just think I’m not That Kind of Girl? Because, for him, I totally could be, ladies. Fantasy Island has a secret that I’m about to out for you all. The cocktail menu? Isn’t just about getting your drunk on. All those sexy, sexy names are bedroom suggestions. If I tell FF to order me a Long Slow Screw Against the Wall, he’s supposed to take the hint and take me up against the wall.

  —MADDIE, Kiss and Tulle

  AFTER A DAY spent working on her blog, Maddie felt pleasantly virtuous when Mason texted her. Not that the brief You busy? was fantasy fodder. Nope. The fantasy was what had happened the day before yesterday, and although waking him up at the lookout point yesterday had definitely started off on the wrong foot, the end results hadn’t been bad, either.