Pleasing Her SEAL(25)

"I won't let you fall. Take your pictures," he said calmly. Ashley  looked over and winked at her, and of course it was the perfect shot.





11

HE WAS 100 percent crazy. Watching his fellow SEAL fake marry Ashley  Dixon made Mason fantasize. It was embarrassing but, since the daydreams  were all in his head, he didn't have to admit the truth to anyone else.  What if it was him and Maddie standing there, hand in hand on the  beach, getting ready to tackle life together? Whoa. Stand down, sailor.  Their relationship wasn't real-it was an illusion he was selling so he  could play bodyguard on the down low. Their relationship wasn't any  realer than the "marriage" happening in front of them.                       
       
           


       

Tick-tock, his internal clock reminded him. After Santiago was  eliminated, Maddie wouldn't need a bodyguard, and SEAL Team Sigma had  their extraction orders anyhow. He was almost out of time with her,  which meant he needed to make every minute count.

"I now pronounce you man and wife." The minister announced the familiar  words with a flourish and more than a hint of a Caribbean accent. "You  may kiss the bride."

Uh-huh. Levi swooped before Ashley could take defensive action, leaning  her backward in a dramatic clinch. That kiss wasn't going to end well  for Levi.

"Put me down." Maddie batted at Mason's shoulders, clearly determined  to capture this particular angle up close. Given the way sparks usually  flew between Levi and Ashley, she was right to hurry. Ashley would just  as soon kill Levi as kiss him.

He swung her down and she headed straight for the "newlyweds," camera  shutter clicking. He hoped she'd gotten her shots, because Ashley  flipped Levi, landing the guy on his back in the sand. Levi grinned up  at his "bride," clearly not bothered by his new position.

"My wife's into the rough stuff," he said to no one in particular.

"Funny," Ashley retorted, glowering down at him. Mason figured she was  seconds away from kicking sand in Levi's face. Her "groom" must have  come to the same conclusion, because he rolled, coming to his feet and  throwing an arm around her.

"Smile for the camera, sunshine."

Ashley glared at Maddie, shrugging off Levi's hold. "Are we done here?  Because I'm about to pull a Henry the Eighth and off my spouse."

Levi slouched off, grumbling. Somehow, he and Ashley couldn't stop  quarreling and pushing each other's buttons. If Ashley continued to work  with SEAL Team Sigma, they'd have to find a way to work it out. Maddie  waved them off, then ambled over to a palm tree. She pulled herself up  onto the trunk and started flipping through her photos. She looked  windblown and happy. Sexy as hell. So, yeah, of course he had to go  watch over her shoulder. Lean into her a little, so he could feel the  warmth of her silky smooth leg pressing into his side. Breathe in her  soft floral scent. She rested an arm on his shoulder, as though she just  accepted his presence. They fit together in a way he couldn't begin to  explain.

She'd captured the expression on Levi's face perfectly. Hooyah. That  SEAL was in trouble and didn't know it. Not that he was one to talk. The  evening breeze played with the hem of Maddie's pretty sundress. The  dress was made out of some kind of light, airy stuff. Now that he didn't  have her thighs squeezing his head, he noticed that it was cream with  polka dots. Better yet, she'd apparently opted to wear a red bra, the  crimson color playing peekaboo with the thin fabric. Jesus. Did her  panties match?

He needed a distraction stat. "I've discovered your secret. You have wedding fantasies."

She shrugged, as if it was no big deal. "Like I told you before, I like weddings."

Yeah. The whole blog thing made that clear. She leaned into him,  watching his face. He wished he knew what she saw. "I could make you  like them, too."

He snorted. "Small chance of that. I'm a guy. I've got genetic immunity."

"Mmm." She shot him a sidelong glance. "What about the garter dance? That's a wedding staple."

He nearly asked if she was offering to play show-and-tell. He and  Bethany had run off for a Vegas wedding quickie, which meant certain  parts of that weekend were a blur. He was pretty certain his bride had  had one of those ruffly blue satin things tied around her upper thigh,  but he'd also been eighteen and in a rush. A rush to get married, to  ship out, to get busy living. He hadn't understood the appeal of slowing  down and appreciating what he had.

"You don't have a garter." Just in the interest of fact-checking her  statement, he smoothed his hand a little farther up her thigh, rubbing  his thumb over all that silky, warm skin as he pushed her skirt higher.

"Can you toss me my bag?" She pointed to the canvas monstrosity dumped  on the sand. He'd packed go bags with less stuff, he mused as he fetched  it and handed it over to her. She rummaged inside and produced a candy  necklace, one of those strings of pastel pink, blue and green candies  his five-year-old niece adored.                       
       
           


       

"Now I've got the perfect accessory," she said coyly.

"You've got about a hundred calories," he countered.

"Uh-huh. Watch, big boy." She slid the necklace up over her bare foot.  Okay. So maybe he could have a thing for tradition after all.

"Do you dance, too?" Could he get that lucky?

"I have to get it on first," she pointed out. "Then you can take it off."

She drew the necklace up over her knee, the beads bumping against his hand.

"I'm sensing a plan," he said, exhaling a slow, ragged breath. "And  don't stop on my account. Keep right on going. It turns out that I may  be a traditionalist after all."

"See? I told you you'd like weddings just fine."

Except for the vows and the happily-ever-after part, sure. The necklace wrapped around her thigh was sexy as hell.

Maybe he could handle weddings, as long as they involved Maddie.

And garters.

Yeah. He definitely liked the garter.

"I just remembered something." He stepped in closer, his shoulders  pushing against her thighs. God bless palm trees that were the perfect  height. "I'm supposed to remove that with my teeth."

* * *

YES. PLEASE.

And after Mason finished stripping her "garter" off? He could get  started on her panties, because playful Mason was downright devastating.  The man had a definite fun streak, but he kept it hidden from the rest  of the world. Having the chance to see this side of him was like having  the best of treasures. So if he wanted to play, she'd play.

She ran her hands up his arms. He was pure strength, the muscles in his  arms corded and well defined. He hadn't put his shirt back on yet,  either. Lucky her. "Of course, you don't like junk food, so I don't know  if you can help me out here."

She, on the other hand, loved junk food. His dislike for sugar was a serious character flaw.

His eyes darkened as he stared at the sweet garter on her thigh. "I could make an exception."

She'd just bet he could. Without waiting for her answer, he wrapped a  hand around her thigh. She wasn't a small woman, but he had big, manly  hands and he made her feel delicate. That wasn't something she needed to  feel, but a secret part of her liked it. More than she cared to admit.

"Remind me how this works," he said.

Happily. She covered his hand with her own, stroking the backs of his  fingers. The rough warmth of his callused digits sank into her, even  better than the tropical sun. The beach was a pretty place and, better  yet, they had it to themselves now. The minister had disappeared, and  neither Levi nor Ashley had been interested in sticking around. They'd  wandered off, still bickering.

"The garter used to be a fertility charm. All the guests would try to  grab it, and the bride could end up trampled or in tatters."

"Brutal." A smile nudged his mouth as he rubbed his thumb over the bare  skin of her thigh. He'd acquired new nicks and scratches since  yesterday.

"So the bride started tossing her garter at the wedding party as a kind  of red herring. They went after the garter and left her alone. Today,  many women skip it. Or make it their ‘something blue' and keep it under  their dress."

He nodded solemnly. "So no sharing. That's good. I don't think I'd share well."

She braced her arms on the tree trunk. He wouldn't let her fall off,  but temping gravity didn't seem prudent, either. "Some weddings, the  best man removes it with his teeth."

"That sounds about right to me...but I promise not to bite hard." He slowly pushed up the hem of her dress. "Hold this."