As a wave crashed against them, she beamed. “Let’s jump them!”
Mason responded by grabbing her around the waist and heaving her against him as the waves crashed against their bodies. It was a riot, jumping waves. She’d left her perfectly curated velvety laugh back at the beach, and as he bounced her in and out of the water, she became childlike and silly. He had to admit that the feeling rose in him as well. The view in front of him was more arousing than any the resort had to offer.
Something about her had grown giddy that he was doing everything she asked. It was so much fun that he didn’t want to stop. Feeling worked its way back into his core. He held her hand tightly, hoping she would see it as affection, but really it was because he didn’t want to get lost in the water.
Mason was much taller than her, so he didn’t have to jump so high. But the waves brought out a side of him that he never knew. They lightheartedly taunted each other and counted who could claim the most waves.
Her sultry voice had cracked into a high-pitched squeal, and her expressions changed from purposefully sexy to silly and fun and lovable. Her wild enjoyment seemed to pierce her facade.
Next thing he knew, they’d ingested more sake, and she’d led him further into the deep waves, giggling while the water threatened to steal their footing and suck them under.
It was a perfect metaphor.
What was he doing?
He was tempted to keep following her. He’d already gotten so far. But he could see the dark depths in the distance, and the cold reality of the powerful ocean water hit him.
“I can’t go any further,” he groaned. The darkened water and increasing flow warned him to stay where he felt secure: in the calm, translucent beach.
She pulled on him. “Come on. We are barely in!”
Did she have no fear?
“No. I can’t.”
“You can. I’ve got you,” she exclaimed, encouraging him gently. “I promise. I’ve got you.”
Her smile had changed, and something about her ear-to-ear grin felt genuine. She really wanted him to take the risk. The more he overcame his caution and followed her into the deep ocean water, the more gleeful she became, and she cheered him on quick and fast.
She was a thrill-seeking pixie, and pixies were always trouble. But the type of trouble he expected from her had shifted.
Mason found his feet following as her gorgeous ass bumped up and down. Chest deep, holding his hand, she started jumping up every time a wave approached, catching it against her flat abdomen. Her breasts bounced with each jump, and Mason felt his member engorge with delight.
The sight was a nice reward for joining her. She was fit as fuck. He was damn near about to pin her down in the water and have his way.
Her company wasn’t bad either.
Her cute giggles soon turned into flat-out wicked-witch cackles. He couldn’t help but respond with a belly laugh. Tears fell from his eyes. His face hurt from smiling. Whatever her game was, she had turned into a silly, fun-loving child as she jumped up and down beside him.
“This isn’t so bad.” He laughed, water splashing against his face. “Okay. Okay. I can do this. I’m doing this.”
She looked back at him with a warm smile. “I knew you could. This is awesome!”
Somewhere along the line she’d stopped posing and putting on her perfect pout, and she’d let raw reaction take over. Why the hell did she pose anyway? Her natural smile was so fucking endearing that he nearly pulled her in for a giant, wet kiss.
Gradually, alcohol chipped away at his caution. His doubts were still there but muted, muzzled. Salt water danced into Mason’s mouth. He liked the way it tasted.
He formed a wall of muscle between the ocean and her. Accidentally dropping the empty sake bottle into the water, she ran her hands up his chest and locked eyes with him. She swayed gently—and he didn’t doubt it had as much to do with the sake as it did with the waves splashing against them.
She pulled him deeper into the water, and he nearly choked when he looked down and couldn’t see his feet. They were in nearly up to their necks. As the waves crashed forward, his feet lost their grip.
Under the sun, bodysurfing, swimming, holding hands, they exchanged feverish laughter. Was he really that far in? The beach seemed forever away. After only minutes of knowing him, she’d pulled him into something he’d never experienced before. He felt like he was with his best friend.
It felt damn good.
He swam closer to her and managed to pull her back so he could grip the sand under the water again. His toes dug in like claws. He grasped onto her waist, partially for dear life and partially because he just liked holding her.
He hadn’t forgotten about Mali or why Senior Chief Blackshot had sent him to decompress. But none of it was at the forefront of his mind anymore.
In the moment, Mason couldn’t think about anything but this bouncing, giggling, sweet mystery of a female beaming up at him, egging him on, hanging off his shoulders, and pressing her breasts to his chest.
He couldn’t remember the last time he had so much good, honest fun. The constant threat of drowning had heightened his senses and excitement. God, who knew facing his fear with a stranger would be so fun? His heart felt a million times lighter.
Avery snickered, drunkenly falling into his side as they backtracked to shallower water, and he caught her with his arms and smiled down at her. This time, he didn’t let her go. He gazed intently at her beautiful face, lifting her sunglasses to the top of her head. As he lifted his too, he looked into her blue eyes, so bright under the sun.
Their color was different up close. Her eyes weren’t as icy, and they sparkled with depth, like little flecks of reflective material were glued inside the iris. He felt mesmerized. She squinted into the brightness of the day, and he noticed the most adorable array of freckles on her nose. Washed by the translucent blue water, her face was surprisingly young and innocent. She wasn’t as serious as she thought she was.
And that was exactly what he needed.
Avery’s frame fit nicely into his six-foot-three build as he pulled her closer. It all felt like a haze. A perfect storm. There isn’t such a thing as too good to be true, Mason thought. That was a dumb expression.
It was the perfect birthday afternoon. He felt like a dream woman had dropped from heaven to be with him. Her soft lips, glossy from lotion and sweat and salt water, tipped up toward his. All he wanted was to kiss her and feel those lips on his.
But before he could close the gap, she pulled away from his grasp, placing her dark sunglasses back on her nose. Her hands dropped, and the moment came to a screeching halt.
“Hungry?” she asked over her shoulder in a dark, sultry tone. Then she turned and sauntered back up to the beach.
The change sobered him, and he blinked. He sure was hungry—but not for food, he thought as he watched her round bottom bounce up and down, left and right.
Back on the beach, Avery turned and asked in a fluid tone, “Want to get something to eat?”
Mason had no idea what time it was, but he was interested in whatever she was saying. He was looking for a full-meal dinner deal with her. And she seemed more than interested in taking part.
“I’ve got a better idea.” He toyed with her fingers. “Why don’t we do dinner tonight? There’s a Michelin-starred restaurant here. I’m dying to try it.”
She gave him her mischievous smile and looked very interested. The cheery pixie who blasted through waves with him had disappeared, and the seductress had replaced her. He gritted his teeth, wishing he could tease the real girl back.
“It’s getting close to that time, isn’t it?” she pondered, leading him forth.
He took the bait. He couldn’t help himself. “Share my birthday dinner with me.” His voice softened in a way he hadn’t heard for a long time. The statement was raw, and it threw them both off.
The glimpse of realness in him was quickly matched by a glimpse of realness from her. The perk o
f her eyebrow told him that she sensed it.
“Of course.” She smiled softly, her spritely eyes sparkling again.
There she is.
Elation rose in his chest. But who was she? He hoped to gain the answer over an extended meal together, especially as evening was closing in on them.
He’d completely thrown caution to the wind, and he locked away the voice in his mind that warned she couldn’t be all that she seemed.
She had a game, of course, but she was real, too—he saw it. He felt it. He wanted to know more about the real Avery.
She again flipped her long wet hair to the side and gave him the same posed, seductive expression. It bothered Mason that she seemed to know exactly what she was doing.
She gently toed the sand, showing off her lean legs. She knew her angles—knew what to flex, where to turn, what to push out. The more he thought about it, the more he saw it. He wanted to reach out and shake her until she let herself be… herself again.
“Give me a bit to wash up and change? I’m staying at the Olio.”
“The other villas,” he confirmed, looking over at the purple banners for the villas stretching down another wooden boardwalk.
Hell, all the rooms were five-star on this stretch. Only the crème de la crème could afford these resorts. Celebrities. Executives. Soldiers with war money to piss away.
“Meet me at the Mixe Café at six?” he said, motioning to the popular bar where guests enjoyed late afternoon cocktails underneath a canopy of rich green palms.
“Sure. See you soon.” She leaned in to give him a hug, and as she pulled away, she slowly, erotically grazed her luscious lips on his unshaven cheek.
The path of her lips burned against his cheekbone. He reined in his desire to touch the swath of skin she’d blessed. But he enjoyed watching her very arousing silhouette disappear down the beach toward her boardwalk. If she had a flaw, he didn’t seen it—or at least she hadn’t shown it.
The iceberg in his chest had cracked, and she seemed invested in melting it all the way down—enough to lay him bare. He didn’t miss the flush of arousal on her cheeks. Her hardened breasts. The way she bit her lip and tilted her head toward him. Some reactions you couldn’t fake, and he was good enough at reading people to know she was interested.
She wanted him.
He finally had some sensation back in his body, and he wondered if the numbness would subside long enough for him to knock off a quick one before his hot-ass date with a badass chick.
3
Avery Nylander wasn’t an amateur. When she packed for the Maldives, she brought an array of outfits—chic, preppy, colorful, bohemian, designer—because she had to assess Special Warfare Operator Mason Ajax in person before deciding what guise to don. Who was he? What did he like?
Her boss had warned her that Mason Ajax had a certain charm, like most of the SEALs. This one… He had a reputation. He was the type that could have any woman. Tall, jacked, handsome, smooth. She’d have to work hard to gain entry. Crack into his desires.
He wouldn’t be easy.
But that was why they’d sent her. She was the best. Men liked her.
She’d been wearing a low-brimmed beach hat that morning, her long dark hair pulled back, when she’d seen him booking into his room. An overnighter from Bamako, Mali, apparently. He looked it, too.
Qatar Airlines was good, but they couldn’t restore a person who had taken the shit kicking that only the Sahel could give. Avery knew—she’d been to the Sahel many times to conduct surveillance, and lived to tell the tale.
Mason’s black utility pants were almost as crumpled and greasy as his dark T-shirt. He didn’t have much else on besides a standard-issue military watch. His ruffled, golden-brown hair and facial hair showed a man who needed some self-care. The rough beast had stood out a bit in the cheery, tropical reception area of the high-end resort.
Head down, big sunglasses on, and standing behind a tall bouquet of flowers, she’d tried not to show just how interested she was in the details of Mason’s conversation with the receptionist. The very flirtatious receptionist. Avery noted that the woman hadn’t flirted with any of the other men checking in.
Mason certainly had appeal. He looked like a bronzed god, for starters. He had that gruff, worn-down attitude. But he still seemed easygoing and mild tempered. Avery found herself looking around to make sure no one else was noticing him. He seemed so… out of place, uncomfortable despite the pleasing environment. He was stiff and despondent as the receptionist batted her eyelashes at him. Unresponsive.
Interesting, Avery had thought, noting the information for further analysis. He certainly was less gregarious than she’d expected, as she leaned in to learn more.
His birthday? She overheard. That made it even easier. It gave her something to work with.
She knew he was alone. And tense. She needed to loosen him up with something fun. The question was how to make the introduction. How to set the scene for the kill. She could go in cold. She could find a proxy to introduce them. But she wondered if she should try baiting him. That would seem less suspicious. And, really, luring them in was half the fun.
She quickly looked for the most popular “dating” apps on her phone, throwing together profiles with the sexiest selfies she had. Fake age, fake hometown, fake bio. She couldn’t fake her first name, though—that was agent lesson one. You can never fake your name. It’s too ingrained. And in the off chance you ran into someone who knew you, your cover would be blown pretty damn fast.
Mason Ajax grabbed his black duffel bag and headed for his room. She resisted the urge to follow him. She had time. She needed to plot.
Black on black, she observed as he waltzed away. The look suited him. It didn’t escape her that his sleeve tattoo was also monochromatic. She needed to find out more about that tattoo…
He was definitely into that minimalist style. She loved it. She decided to wear her black bikini to the beach. Something sexy and small. She’d be the edgy chick today, and see if he’d bite. If not, her tickle trunk was full of guises and surprises.
Once she got to the beach, it wasn’t hard to find him. He’d planted himself in the middle of the white sand while drinks were served to him. Women fawned around him. It was unbelievable to see such a muscular, athletic—just jacked—body. He was absolutely shredded, and Avery couldn’t help but chuckle at the nearby cougars, who were playing with their tongues and watching Mason lather lotion all over his washboard abdomen.
He was hot meat—soon to be dead meat, if the cougars sank their teeth into him. Then she’d noticed that not only had the cougars taken notice of his lordship but also the pumas and wildcats.
Avery had competition. Women all over the beach were mesmerized by the man rubbing lotion on his bulging biceps. If she didn’t move fast, she was going to lose her fucking lead to some horned-up rich bitch.
She had a goddamn job to do.
As soon as she saw him flipping through his phone, she slipped on her zoom lenses. He was online, searching a dating app. He was looking for someone.
And damn it, she was going to be that someone before he found someone else. Everything depended on it.
Finding no better moment, she’d shimmied down the beach toward him, concealing her hustle with a casual, serene expression. He was her target, and no one else was going to touch him but her. Avery damn near bared her teeth at some blonde chick cresting the hump of the beach and eyeing her prize.
It all fell into her hands perfectly. She couldn’t have planned it better. Avery had stumbled across Mason in the throes of rabid frustration, and he seemed more than thrilled for Avery to join him.
Now, hours later, she’d warmed him up. They’d had a fucking blast in the ocean. Maybe too much fun… her guard had slipped when his sad, disconnected eyes came to life. Who would have thought a SEAL needed a little encouragement to dive in? It was ironic and thrilling. He wasn’t the only one who’d been moved.
After washing up after their
swim and getting her game face back on, she found herself leaning against the bar top at the Mixe Café in her sexiest little black dress and stilettos that could poke holes in the eyes of the devil. Her red lipstick finished the look, demanding every man bow before her or get impaled by her heels.
If she did her job right, she’d get everything she needed in one night. He had the look of a man dying to get drunk and let it all out. All she had to do was prod him a little and help him unveil his secrets. That was her purpose, after all. Getting him to squawk.
She’d done it before, and she’d do it again.
Her job this time was a classic loyalty test scenario, and then she’d report back to home base. Would he snitch? Yes or no. In and out.
There was a little bet going back at the home office as to how long it would take her to get him to spill. In an act of good faith—or wishful thinking—her boss had bet one hundred dollars that she’d break him in one night. He seemed a little uneasy that she was handling a big bad SEAL all alone. No doubt that was why he’d urged her to get it done fast. Avery knew the risks: the longer the ruse went on, the higher her chances of getting caught. And she was well aware of the many, many ways an agent could get caught. But all she needed to do was keep that fucking guard up. Keep that edge. She was in control, like always.
She put her boss bitch face on. Tonight was the night to make a career. Breaking a SEAL was the big win she needed to move from apprentice to master. She’d been working too long at it to lose her rank now.
She flipped her shining auburn hair over her shoulder and observed the subtle attention she attracted from the male guests at the bar. It was always that way. She dressed up, masked up, and they watched, drooling. They didn’t even know her, nor did they care to. She was just a piece of ass to them.
Avery leaned into the wooden bar. “Do you know what a gin and sonic is?” she asked the bald Indian bartender, raising her voice in order to conquer the party music.
“A what?” He gave her a confused expression, impatiently tapping his ring against the refinished wood.
Eyes On Page 3
