Teasing Her Seal (Uniformly Hot!)(19)
“Fast food is terrible for your arteries.”
“But it tastes good, Doctor Sexy, and it fills me up.”
Laney shrugged. “Still going to kill you.”
“Point taken. Was it kinky?”
Maddie elbowed Ashley. “Do you have sweet fantasies?”
Ashley grinned. “No comment. I bet she let him tie her up.”
Maddie looked thoughtful. “Or she tied him up.”
Oh. My. God. Why had she thought she wanted girlfriends? And why did they always have to discuss her sex life over food? The calorie guilt was bad enough. “Sorry to disappoint you, but no rope was involved.”
“Bummer. Gray seems like a take-charge kind of guy.” Ashley flagged the waiter down and proceeded to order what sounded like half a cow and ketchup.
Madeline waved her champagne flute at her friend. “How would you know, hotshot? I haven’t seen you hanging around the massage cabanas. You’re judging the man by his appearance.”
Which was admittedly gorgeous. Laney could almost have been satisfied just looking at Gray. He was big, he was ripped and he had no problem with being naked. Lucky her, she got to look and touch.
Ashley wasn’t conceding. “Are you telling me looks are deceiving?”
“She has a point,” Laney told Maddie. Gray’s performance in bed definitely lived up to the promise of his big, sexy body.
“So he’s bossy in the bedroom and you enjoy that.”
Silence was definitely her better choice. Condemning, but wiser.
“When do you see him again?” Maddie asked.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. We didn’t talk about that. It was kind of a one-time hookup thing.”
“Do him again,” Ashley urged.
Maddie squeaked in embarrassment, fake-fanning her face with her napkin. “Give her some time to make up her own mind.”
“What?” Ashley grinned. “It’s like having seconds on dessert. It’s vacation, so it’s definitely allowed. Plus, if she waits too long, someone else may cut her in line and take all the good chocolate on the dessert buffet.”
“Do you know what she’s talking about?” Maddie demanded. “Because I know she’s talking about sex, but I’ve lost track of the details.”
“Sex. Chocolate. Take your pick.”
“I’m not picking anything,” Maddie grumbled. “That’s my problem right there. I just blog about it secondhand for others to read about.”
Ashley, however, clearly had no intention of stopping. And note to self: make sure secret vacation sexcapades don’t end up on a blog somewhere. “Is he into bondage? Does he do the kinky stuff?”
“TMI.” Maddie closed her eyes briefly. “This is the kind of conversation that gets recorded and played back on daytime television. Just saying.”
“We’re not playing bondage games,” Laney said firmly. Yet. Hands didn’t count. They needed ropes to qualify as seriously kinky.
“Just wait until your second date,” Ashley said, smiling broadly.
Laney didn’t need Gray to take charge outside the bedroom, and she wasn’t in the market for happily-ever-after—been there, done that, got the credit card bill. But this was supposed to be her fantasy, after all. She’d always been the person in control and in the driver’s seat of her heart, body and sexual desires, so indulging in some naughty role play was strangely seductive. She didn’t have to worry about whether or not he was happy and enjoying himself—all she had to worry about was herself.
She also had positively no self-control around the man. He showed up, gave a few macho commands and she happily dropped her panties. On the other hand, having the hottest, dirtiest sex of her admittedly vanilla life hadn’t made him open up or cuddle her close, or do any of the other relationship things she was used to.
Yep. That definitely worked for her.
Maddie tapped her fingers against the tablecloth, trying to get her attention. “Do you have plans to see him again?”
“Not yet.”
The waiter returned with a load of steak, fries, ice cream and what had to be half a chocolate cake. Ashley might have the manners of a trucker, but she sure knew how to order. She was also bossy as hell, because she banged a spoon against her water glass to get their attention.
“Let’s discuss next steps in Plan To Get Laney Laid.”
“We could plan your love life, instead.”
Ashley shook her head. “Uh-uh. Maddie’s next.”
Madeline groaned. “I’m a lost cause. Focus on Laney.”
Ashley pulled a set of laminated cards out of her beach bag and slapped them down onto the table. “Research time. I’ve brought the list of possibilities.”
The menu didn’t look like anything out of the ordinary. It was maybe six pages of drink names, with the occasional picture of something pink and fruity. Or in a coconut. Laney strained to find something erotic about it, but it was just a list of alcoholic beverages. Some of them with ice cream. Yum. She pulled it over and started flipping through it. If orgasms weren’t happening, ice cream was next on her list.
A Good Night Kiss
Leather and Lace
A Tender Touch
Much Fuss for the Conquering Hero
All Night Long
Seduction on the Rocks
Black Leather Whip
See You in the Morning
Cowboy Up
Sex on the Beach
Kinky Sex
Sex with the Bartender
Kiss-in-the-Dark
Slow Comfortable Screw
Okay. Some of the options seemed anatomically impossible, while others were clearly optimistic. Seduction on the Rocks, for instance, was clearly a fantasy that no one in her right mind would reenact. The slow, comfortable screw, however, had promise. Lots of sexy Gray promise. Wait. She tore her gaze away from the menu.
“How do you know this really isn’t just a list of drinks?” Because it sure looked like a list, even if every single name had something to do with sex. Maybe the bartender had a dirty mind. Or really, really liked laughing his butt off when somebody ordered a—she flipped the page and squinted—Slippery Nipple. She wanted to feel sexy, not ridiculous.
Maddie scooted closer and stabbed a drink with her finger. “I had this one last night. Believe me, no orgasms were involved. Marketing hype is like penis hype—all words, no action.”
Since Ashley was the one who had first brought up the drinks menu, that made her the expert. “So how do you know it works?”
Maddie grinned. “Have you tried it? And, if so, which drink do you recommend?”
Ashley tapped the side of her nose. “Not telling. And I have inside sources. The question really is—does Laney start at the top and work her way down, or just pick her favorites?”
KICKING THE RADIO would be a stupid move. Gray needed the radio. He simply hadn’t expected the bad news the guy on the other end had delivered. The bad news fit the incoming crappy weather to a tee. A slow-moving storm had blown up about an hour ago, and now rain was pounding the island, the drops practically flying sideways. The night was perfect for cozying up to a bar—or waking up Laney and getting her going all over again. Instead, he was stuck out here in a seriously damp patch of jungle, rainwater dripping off his tent while the local mosquito population circled him as if he was an all-you-can-eat buffet.
Good thing he loved his job.
“You cannot be serious.” Levi cursed and started disassembling his M16. Not that the gun needed cleaning, but the man had energy to burn and hated sitting still. “They can’t do that to us.”
Gray scoffed. “When’s the last time we had a choice about the mission timeline?”
Levi cursed again. His shooter’s position on the time change was crystal clear.
“Marcos’s advance team lands in three hours.” Mason said the words out loud, as if verbalizing the FUBAR situation would make it better.
“That’s the new plan. Our target is either itching to get his tropical relaxation on or he’s decided that unpredictable is the new safe.” Gray fell back on the stack of duffel bags. Their camp was neat and orderly, despite their prime location in the jungle. Thunder boomed, low and close, the downpour on their canvas roof dancing at tango speed. He’d spent more than a few months concealed in similar patches of wet, mosquito-infested jungles, waiting out a target.
But somehow, it sucked worse, knowing Laney was tucked up in her bungalow, all sweet and warm. He’d much rather be there than here, and that was a problem. There was no solving it now, however, so he forced himself to focus on his present reality: that his ass was parked in a tent in a SEAL camp.
Some of the guys liked to create a little piece of home inside their tents, with photos and pictures, as if those pieces of paper were windows into the normal goings-on thousands of miles away. Or a reminder of what they were fighting for. He’d never needed that. Give him a bedroll and his weapons bag and he was good.
Nope. The two-thousand-dollar-a-night luxury bungalows two clicks away weren’t his thing. He wasn’t a fancy kind of guy. He liked beer, bikes and camping. Laney Parker, on the other hand, was the kind of woman who deserved the finer things in life. Not that she was a prima donna or demanded five-star treatment, but she had a classiness about her that made him want to give her the best life could offer. For a couple of days only, he reminded himself. She wasn’t interested in keeping him, and he definitely didn’t want her anywhere near Marcos and his muscle.