Teasing Her Seal (Uniformly Hot!)(25)

“I went to med school for approximately a thousand years to do this. I’m better.” Carefully, she peeled back the dressing. There were no signs of infection, and he actually hadn’t ripped out his stitches. Which was probably a miracle, because she doubted Mr. SEAL had really been taking it easy.

“You’re also mad at me,” he pointed out drolly. “I’m not sure that guarantees a sympathetic bedside manner.”

“Two words. Hippocratic Oath.”

“Good to know.”

His side looked good. Since he was undoubtedly doing macho manly SEAL things, rather than engaging in bed rest, that was a small miracle. And damn it, she had to stop thinking of beds and Gray at the same time.

“Is Mason really a cook?” she asked, to take her mind off sex.

Gray grinned. “He’s cooking. Does that count?”

She thought about that for a minute.

“The rain means no seaplanes are flying,” he continued, his smile fading. “The visibility is too low. I’d prefer to get you off the island. Get you somewhere safe.”

Gray obviously hadn’t gotten the memo on Ashley’s cover story plan. “My reservation has a few nights left to go. I’m not planning on sleeping on the beach.”

She was tired of throwing in the towel and running. She’d run when Harlan’s affair had come to light, and she didn’t like herself for that. Gray might be a SEAL and he might be here on an undercover op, but she had a right to be here, too. Plus, she found his insistence on keeping her safe sweet. Which was ridiculous. She was grasping at straws. He was a decent guy and a SEAL. Protecting her came with the territory. He could hardly insist on putting her in danger.

“Do I pass inspection?” he asked, dropping the subject of her departure. She had a feeling the subject wasn’t closed, however.

“Um. Yeah.” She pressed the bandage back in place.

“Good.” He pulled her upright and swung her around. “Because I want a shot. Any objections?”

He braced her against the wall, flattening his palm beside her head as his inner caveman came out to play. Unfortunately, her inner cavewoman was in full agreement.

“At...?” She really needed clarification here.

“A second night. A second fantasy.”

“I’m your doctor.”

“Temporarily and by accident,” he pointed out.

“Sex between us isn’t appropriate. It’s also a really, really bad idea.”

“You don’t want to do your patriotic duty?” Hell. The line sounded cheesy, even to him, and Gray had never won awards for his smooth-talking charm. That was Levi’s area of expertise. Blow shit up. Charm the panties off the ladies. Levi was a pro.

“You’re under doctor’s orders.” She eyed him gleefully. “You have to do what I say.”

Military doctors on two continents hadn’t been able to compel him to follow orders. He grinned up at her. He liked looking at Laney, even when he was actually staring at the top of her head while her cool hands examined the gunshot wound in his side. He’d been lucky. The bullet had taken a shortcut across his side, but it hadn’t gone through. He’d be fine. Hell, he’d had worse.

“Come by tonight and I’ll change the bandage.” Her head was close enough to his bare skin that he felt her words against it, the tiny puff of air as she exhaled. Knowing Laney, she was likely irritated or pissed off.

“Laney.” Her name was a start. Unfortunately, he had absolutely no idea what to say next.

“Ashley said I could help you with your cover story,” she said, veering off on a tangent.

“She did?” He needed to kill Ashley. Slowly. He appreciated her concern for his sex life—not—but she had to stop meddling. Maybe she was bored or liked the fireworks. He had no idea, but being near Laney was torturing him, and he didn’t need any more encouragement.

“She said that it was possible your target had eyes on the ground and that you all needed to stay in character until you complete your mission.” She shrugged. She was close enough that the move had her breasts brushing against his chest. Her thin bikini top was nowhere near enough fabric. Her nipples were hard little points raking his chest. Was she cold—or aroused? Did she want to pick up where they’d left off the other night? Because his dirty fantasy count definitely exceeded one. When he didn’t say anything, Laney rushed to fill in the awkward silence.

“She said Fantasy Island has a certain reputation.”

He needed to tread carefully. Laney’s claim was more explosive than an ambush with claymores. “It’s an exotic island getaway. It’s supposed to be fun.”

Laney elbowed him. Hard. Gray was almost certain she deliberately went for his good side. “For the drinks menu,” she said. “People come here, they share their fantasies and...”

Boom.

Her blush was cute. Her face resembled a sunburned tomato, which he found amusing. She’d do it, but she wouldn’t say it? They’d have to work on her vocabulary.

“We shared a fantasy.” Pointing out the truth was the honest thing to do.

“I know.” She glared at him. “One fantasy.”

“Is the problem with the quantity or the quality?” Her hair was drying into little wayward ringlets. She had a cowlick, too, the piece sticking straight out at an impossible angle. His fingers itched to reach out and smooth the wayward strands into place. Laney was mussed up, and he definitely had an issue with the quantity of his fantasies because he had plural fantasies. As in, more than one and more than once. He didn’t do long-term. Hell, he rarely went back for seconds, and he’d be the first to admit that made him a dick.

“Ashley thinks we should keep pretending to have a relationship.”

Huh. Ashley actually had a point.

“Ashley wants us to pretend to have sex.”

“I don’t think pretend was what she had in mind. Ashley’s open-minded.”

And then some. Ashley had a one-night rule herself. Levi had bitched about it more than once.

“I’m not pretending to have sex with you.”

“Wow,” she said. “Thanks for the confidence booster.”

Was that hurt in her eyes? Because he wasn’t that much of a dick. Not intentionally. “I definitely want to have sex with you. Real sex,” he added softly, when she didn’t say anything. This was why one-nighters were simpler. More sex, less talking.

She pursed her lips. “Ashley made this sound easy.”

There wasn’t a single easy thing about them. He knew that. And so did she.

“It would bolster my cover story,” he said helpfully. Honestly, he had no idea if Marcos had spies on Fantasy Island. If he did, it seemed even more far-fetched that said spies would be less inclined to spot Gray for what and who he was if he was having sex with one of the resort guests. However, he was still selfish. And he wanted Laney Parker. So...he’d run with it. “If you pretended to be my vacation hookup.”

She nodded. “Pretend relationship. Real sex. I can work with that, but just for the record, I still think having sex with you is a bad idea.”

“But?”

“But I’m going to do it, anyhow.” She sighed.

“Tonight. My place.” He forced himself to step away from her, before he did something really stupid, like gather her up in his arms in the towel hut. Her soft protest followed him as he left.

“Wait. We should set a time.”

He wasn’t scheduling sex with her. He wanted to be more than another to-do in her phone. “When you want me, come and find me,” he said and slipped out into the rain.





11

LANEY STEPPED ONTO the path leading to the resort’s employee housing. This was crazy. She should turn around and go back to her bungalow. But anticipation fizzed through her, and she knew she wasn’t going anywhere but forward. To Gray. The sun had set and the lights lining the path had come on. Since he had refused to pick a time for their date—and she’d decided to call it a date rather than casual vacation sex hookup—she’d waited until night fell. Fantasy sex and darkness seemed to go together.

In addition to being unsure of the time, she wasn’t sure of the dress code for an early-evening sex date. In the end, she’d gone with a red-and white-striped sundress. The dress tied around her neck with two delicate strings that ended in tiny brass beads and brushed against the bare skin of her back. It made her feel sexy, and sexy was good. Heels weren’t happening with the resort’s gravel path, plus, she clumped ungracefully in anything other than flats, so she’d settled on a pair of cute sandals. And she’d gone all out and added lip gloss. Woo-hoo. Her feminine arsenal definitely needed restocking. As a newbie surgeon working eighty-hour weeks, she hadn’t had time for date clothes.

Not that Gray seemed to mind.

He seemed to like her just the way she was. Although he definitely had a preference for naked.

She liked him naked, too.

Someone stepped out onto the path behind her. She didn’t hear him move. One second, she was alone and the next, a big, hard body pressed up against hers. Maybe they included ninja classes at BUD/S training. Even as she recognized him, her heartbeat picked up in anticipation. Her imagination immediately kicked in, too, suggesting all sorts of naughty possibilities.