Pleasing Her SEAL(16)

"Gorgeous," he whispered hoarsely, lifting himself away from her. "If only I had more time, sweetheart."

Yes. If only. If only they had more time. If only she could hold on to  this moment forever. She tugged free, determined not to lose a second.  Grinning because, damn, he made her feel good, she brushed a kiss over  his mouth and pulled her swimsuit bottom back on. He had to get going,  but the heat in his eyes warmed her. She wasn't quite ready to let him  go. Not yet.

She pulled back, easing up on her grip on his T-shirt. "Maybe we'll see each other soon?"

He cupped her face, gave her another quick, hot kiss. The sensation of  his fingertips brushing her skin was electric. He'd touched her, made  her come with those same fingers, but her body tightened and quickened,  already eager for more of this man.

"I'd like that," he said huskily. "I'd really like that."

Me, too, she thought, sliding off the table and forcing herself to walk away. I'd like that, too.





7

Okay, ladies. Advice time! Mr. Fantasy Fodder isn't one for chitchat  (think Tall, Dark, and Almost Always Silent), but when he does smile and  say something, I can't help but notice. He actually has a wicked sense  of humor and gets this little twinkle in his eye when something amuses  him. Yay for melting girl parts! Our chemistry is off the charts. Is  this what you all felt when you met The One? Was your bedroom rocking  from the get-go? Because FF seemed a little reluctant to get entirely  naked with yours truly. Not that I wouldn't have let him keep some  clothes on (adventuresome is good!), but the possibility that he wasn't  sure if he really wanted to go to bed with me is a downer. Especially  since the man really, really knows what to do with frosting. My lips are  sealed, but the memories... I'll just say that FF definitely lived up  to his nickname and I'd like to get to know him biblically. Send advice  stat!

-MADDIE, Kiss and Tulle

MASON POUNDED ALONG the jungle trail, working through mile five of his  morning PT. The sound of his boots hitting ground was a familiar rhythm,  but everything else about the morning was off. He'd organized cakes,  for crying out loud. Really girlie, over-the-top, flower-and-frosting  numbers with little plastic bride and groom dolls perched on top. He'd  be making cupcakes and whipping out the Easy-Bake Oven next.                       
       
           


       

Levi had laughed his ass off. Of course, the man had also been quick to  steal leftovers, too, so Mason's cakes clearly hadn't been the worst  idea ever. Somehow, somewhere, he'd metamorphosed into Military Martha  Stewart, worried about how his batter had come out and if Maddie would  approve.

Bottom line? He had it bad.

Granted, getting close to her was a mission requirement, but she didn't  know that. All this getting-to-know-you crap had been genuine on her  part. She'd decided that he might qualify as dating material and now she  was performing her due diligence on his personality and bona fides with  the same enthusiasm she approached everything else.

It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that Maddie didn't hide  what she was feeling. She just enjoyed and went for it. The girl didn't  hold back sexually, either, which meant it didn't take too much  imagination at all for him to mentally transfer Maddie's enthusiasm to  the bedroom. She'd rock his world if he was lucky enough to get the  chance. Putting her back together after he'd gotten her off yesterday  had been one of the hardest things he'd ever done. He'd wanted to scoop  her up, carry her off to somewhere with a bed and crawl in with her for  hours. Days. As long as she'd have him.

God help him if she ever figured out why he was really on Fantasy  Island, because she'd kill him. He knew without asking that Maddie had a  zero-tolerance policy on lying, and sins of omission would count every  bit as much as the real whoppers. So he'd make sure she didn't find out.  He was a trained professional. He'd successfully conducted hundreds of  covert missions.

And...no amount of training or hands-on experience in the field could  fix the basic problem. He wasn't acting when he was around Maddie. She  knew that he was interested and, hooyah, his interest was genuine. His  perpetual erection when he was around her had to be one of his  worst-kept secrets ever. The kissing and the touching didn't help in the  keeping-things-under-control department, either. But he felt as if he  was negotiating under false pretenses. In another time, another place,  he'd have happily gone after her, but here on Fantasy Island, sticking  closer than close to her was essential for her safety. The recon team  still hadn't confirmed Santiago's presence in the jungle compound, which  meant the bastard could potentially be anywhere. Money also bought  loyalty and guns. A Marcos bodyguard or a hired mercenary could easily  slip onto the island, so that meant Mason stayed nearby.

Practically glued skin to skin with the sexy, gorgeous, uninhibited Maddie.

He picked up speed, but outrunning Maddie's charms wasn't a matter of  pacing. It was already hot and humid, his T-shirt sticking to him as he  began the upward climb. He'd turn around at the lookout, head back to  the resort and relieve Levi. Levi had Maddie watch until Mason tagged  back in, so she was in good hands.

Exhaustion tugged at him. He'd survived on less sleep, but banking some  hours was wise. Pulling an all-nighter would be easier if he wasn't  already sleep deprived. Suck it up, sailor. He checked the dive watch  strapped to his wrist, already knowing that his pace was too slow. He  pushed harder, his head clearing as his blood got pumping. Failure  simply wasn't an option.

When he reached the top of the hill, he did a quick check, but Maddie  either hadn't sneaked any more cameras up here or she'd gotten a whole  lot more strategic at placing them. It was just him, some palm trees and  an enormous round lounger thing with cushions and a little canopy for  shade. He stopped and stretched, working out the tension in his back.  Blue lagoon spread out before him, stretching to the reef and beyond.  Maddie had rocked a blue, fringed bikini the other day that was just  that kind of peacock color.

And, wait for it... His erection tented his pants, right on cue.

He'd walked by the pool yesterday. Taken in the cabana scene. Looked  again because, damn, the itty-bitty bikini had almost not covered  Maddie's stunning curves and he'd wanted to run his fingers over all  that lush, tempting skin. Then she'd bent over, rummaging in an enormous  beach bag for something, and his brain had completely short-circuited.  The Brazilian swimsuit bottom absolutely, positively failed to cover her  ass. He'd fought the urge to cup those naughty curves in his palms. The  bottom of her suit had a wicked seam that ran up her butt, kind of like  an X-marks-the-spot.                       
       
           


       

He'd stood there like a different kind of ass. For several very long, heated moments. Then she'd busted him with a wicked grin.

"Tell me if you spot a tan line."

Yeah. He'd about swallowed his tongue. True that there were no white  marks anywhere he could see, but the mental image had made him want to  strip off the nylon scraps and explore for himself. Do a double-check.  Maybe rub some sunscreen on, because it would be a crime to burn her  pretty skin.

"Nothing to say?" She'd flopped onto a lounger, lying down on her belly  and then-his all-time favorite memory of the day-had reached up to tug  the strings undone. The skimpy fabric had fallen away, exposing the  generous curve of her breasts.

He'd growled out a "Carry on" and beaten a hasty retreat, the big, bad SEAL run off by a string bikini.

Another wave of exhaustion battered at him. He hadn't slept more than a  couple of hours these past few days and he'd be no good to her if he  passed out standing up. The empty lounger seemed like his best bet.  Palming his secure phone, he texted Levi.

Is HRH covered?

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.