Teasing Her Seal (Uniformly Hot!)

by Anne Marsh

  “Uh-huh.” He parted the front of her robe and trailed a hand over her waist, clearly not interested in a vocabulary lesson.

  “I want to know.” She was the best doctor in the ER chute, and she’d managed that by studying hard and learning from her mistakes. Failure wasn’t an option. Why shouldn’t sex be the same?

  “Why do you care if I have the best time of my life in bed with you, as long as you enjoy the hell out of it?” Genuine curiosity replaced amusement in his voice.

  She pointed to his groin. “Biology requires a certain level of participation from you.”

  “It still doesn’t have to be the best hard-on of my life.”

  “Can you tell the difference between erections?” That had to be a safe topic.

  He gave her a look. “Can you tell a difference between your orgasms?”

  Absolutely. Maybe they needed to forget this whole conversation, however, because she had no intention of telling him that tonight’s orgasm had been hands down the best of her life. He didn’t need to know just how much he affected her, did he?

  “Come here.” He tugged her sash again.

  “I have the munchies. No more sex until I’ve been fed. Do you want room service?”

  He quirked a brow. “Do you want the entire resort to know I’m here?”

  Right. She didn’t think he’d hide in the bathroom while the room service guy delivered. She couldn’t tell from his expression if he’d mind everyone knowing about them or not. How many of the island’s employees hooked up with the guests? Some, but not enough, she decided. Chances were, he didn’t want to advertise their hookup.

  She shrugged and headed for the tiny fridge. “I’m voting for instant gratification. Let’s hit up the minibar.”

  “That’s not a meal.”

  She looked over her shoulder and grinned at him. “How do you know what I’ve got in my minibar?”

  “Are you hiding a steak in there? Because a meal definitely includes protein.”

  She made a face, even though she knew he couldn’t see it. What was it with men and beef? “Prepare for disappointment.”

  The bed creaked as he resettled himself. Apparently, he wasn’t of the bang-her-and-leave school of thought. She sighed. He was too tempting. Maybe it would be better if he hightailed it for the door.

  “Nothing about you could disappoint.”

  His words were the cherry on a really great Gray sundae. She was tempted to turn around so she could see his face, but maybe it had been a throwaway line. So looking would be a mistake and wouldn’t be cool. To keep herself busy and her mind off sexy compliments, she opened the fridge and rifled through its overpriced contents. No steak, but she did have two mini bottles of champagne. She turned around, waving her prizes.

  “Woo-hoo! We win.”

  He eyed the tiny bottles in her hand. “I’m not much of a drinking man.”

  She hadn’t pegged him for a health-kick guy, but whatever. “That must come with the spa job.”

  He snorted. “That comes with childhood territory. I’ve seen too many people turn into idiots once they’d pounded a few beers.”

  No alcohol. Check. She grabbed him a bottled water instead, the sparkling kind with an Italian name and fancy glass bottle. That probably wasn’t his thing, either, but the minibar had limited options.

  “No steak,” she said with a smirk. She’d brought her own stuff and shoved it inside the minibar on top of the resort’s overpriced offerings. She needed healthy snacks in her life, thank you very much. She’d brought a Japanese trail mix with seaweed, nuts and dried fish. Since dried fish wasn’t everybody’s thing, she grabbed a handful of more mainstream offerings, went back to the bed and dropped the impromptu picnic onto the duvet. “Dig in.”

  He eyed Snack Mountain with some doubt, prodding her Japanese mix dubiously. “Is that even edible?”

  She dropped onto the bed beside him. “It has omegas. Omegas are good for you.”

  He shuddered. “Give me chocolate any day. Dried fish is the kind of shit you eat after the apocalypse hit and the survivors have looted all the good stuff from the gas station.”

  “Cheerful.” She popped another handful into her mouth.

  Reaching over, he grabbed the Snickers bar from her stash. “This, on the other hand, is a snack. A good one.”

  “If you say so.” Too much sugar for her.

  “Are you sure you’re a girl?” He eyed her suspiciously as he peeled back the wrapper and proceeded to devour her candy.

  “You would know.”

  “True.” He polished off the candy bar and reached for a second one.

  Picnicking on the bed was strangely intimate and almost as much fun as the sex. Well, not really, but it added a side of sweet to her savory. Gray was good company. He asked her about working as a trauma surgeon and what it was like living in San Francisco. She couldn’t help but notice, though, that he didn’t volunteer any information about himself. Granted, she hadn’t asked for his résumé before she’d jumped his bones, but there had to be a story that brought this man to this place. Whatever it was, he wasn’t in a sharing mood.

  “Are you done eating?” He set his bottled water on the bedside table.

  Deflection? Or deliciously horny intentions? Because she could be done with the right incentive.

  She looked at her champagne bottle. Definitely empty. So...yes? She set it down.

  “Why? What did you have in mind?”

  She landed on her back. Damn, she hadn’t even heard him move, but she saw him now as he swung himself over her.

  “Because I’m not done with you yet,” he said, his hands coming down on the bed on either side of her face, his thumbs stroking over her cheeks like he couldn’t get enough of her. And...just like that, she lost interest in snacks. “I’m a fast learner. Want to see what else I think you’d like?”

  Yeah, she absolutely did. Thank God she’d stocked up on condoms, because it appeared her fantasy night wasn’t over yet.

  8

  FANTASY ISLAND HAD one restaurant, a fancy seaside bistro perched on wooden piers over the calm lagoon. The establishment had a palapa roof, but was otherwise open to take advantage of the sea air and breezes. Since the staff baited the waters regularly, it also came with a couple of lazy sharks and schools of brightly colored tropical fish waiting for their next handout. The wildlife was good, although the white tablecloths and four-hundred-piece tableware setting were definitely out of Laney’s league. She was more of a spork kind of gal. She survived on sandwiches and coffee from the hospital vending machine, or carnitas from the taco truck if it was Friday.

  Had survived, she reminded herself. That job was gone.

  Ashley high-fived her as soon as she sat down at the table. “You got some.”

  Maddie made a face. Her nose was peeling from a recent sunburn. “That has to be one of the crudest phrases ever.”

  The waiter slid a tray of appetizers in front of them. All-inclusive, she reminded herself. Prepaid. She should live it up before she had to go back to the real world and microwaved Lean Cuisine meals. Not that there was anything wrong with frozen dinners, but the extra five thousand calories in the stuffed mushrooms staring up at her begged her to indulge. And it wasn’t willpower week.

  Ashley didn’t look concerned about her word choice as she forked up a large mouthful of salad greens. “Look at her face and tell me I’m wrong. She’s rocking the post-coital glow look. Do you want me to dress it up?”

  What was she supposed to say? Because right now what she felt was a combination of awkward and excited. Holy smokes, she’d actually done it. She’d picked a fantasy and made it come true with a hot stranger. Just remembering last night, she wanted to run back to the massage cabanas or employee housing, find Gray and do it all over again. Which she could. If she wanted to.

  Right?

  The deal hadn’t necessarily been for one night only. Seeing Gray again, both naked and fully clothed, wasn’t off the table. She wanted to
kiss him, touch him, learn what had brought him to this island.

  Okay. She also wanted to have sex with him. Lots and lots of sex, followed by the rest of the night curled up in bed. Gray had stayed the night, not slipping out until the sun was about to come up, and it turned out the man was as good at snuggling as he was at sex.

  Maddie pointed a fork at her. “Crappy phrasing aside, was he any good?”

  Thank God for the champagne that had magically materialized in her glass. “Yes.”

  Ashley bit into a mushroom with a groan of pleasure. “On a scale of one to ten, rate him. Would you do him again?”

  Wait. Why was that even a question?

  “The blush says it all,” Ashley observed, then stared down at her empty plate. “I would kill for a drive-through burger and fries.”

  “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.