Pleasing Her SEAL

by Anne Marsh

  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.”

  She squeezed the fabric. Holy. Wow. This was going to be good. He lifted her legs, placing them on his shoulders.

  “I think you’re going to be a champion at this,” she breathed, the whole world coming to a standstill around her.

  He inhaled harshly as he got his first glimpse of what she’d been hiding underneath her dress. Because yeah, she was definitely wearing date-night panties. The silky thong was fire-engine red.

  “Surprise,” she whispered. His head brushed her thigh, close enough that she could smell the scent of cinnamon and something tropical. He always smelled faintly of whatever he’d been cooking in that kitchen of his and, God help her, she loved cinnamon.

  His lips moved up her thigh, his hands gently gripping her thighs.

  “Relax,” he said. “I won’t let you fall.”

  Off the tree maybe, but who was going to stop her from falling for him? The necklace was inches from where she ached for him, but it might be too close to her heart, too.

  He glanced up, as if he’d read her mind, his cheek resting on her bare thigh. The rough, sexy prickle of his stubble on her sensitive skin drove her crazy, but then he smiled at her, slow and sweet, and his words heated her up almost as much as his touch. Which was saying something, because just the small, soft stroke of his fingertips playing with the necklace had her melting.

  “You’re going to have to trust me, Maddie,” he said. And waited.

  Waited for her to decide, because he had to be the most patient man she’d ever met. Shoot. Were those tears prickling at her eyes? This was supposed to be a sexy game and...she was all in. She cupped his face in her hands.

  “Okay. But just so we’re clear? You let me fall and I kill you. And I get Ashley to help me. That girl has moves.”

  “So do I.” He grinned at her once more before turning his face against her skin and licking her. Just a small touch, his tongue easing over the sensitive skin of her inner thigh in a sensual glide that had her sucking in a breath and tightening her grip on his shoulders. Her skirt billowed around his head and shoulders and there was no mistaking this for anything other than what it was. Sex on the beach. Just like the menu had promised.

  He sucked on the tender skin and she groaned, hearing the telltale pop as the first candy bead on the necklace came free.

  “They make panties like this.” She was babbling, coming apart in a happy puddle of goo. She couldn’t see his face, but, oh, God, she could feel him. Feel his tongue exploring her skin, his breath on her mound as he moved his head higher, the stubble on his jaw rasping against her.

  He paused. “I’ll add that to my shopping list.”

  So would she. His tongue made another foray, sweeping underneath the necklace and teasing higher. And it felt so good, so very, very good. Each new touch left her hotter and more shivery, impossibly aware of Mason. He exhaled and she felt it, right there where he wasn’t touching yet but where he was headed. She wanted adventure and he’d give it to her in spades.

  And he liked this, too. That was what got her even wetter, made it okay that she was perched like a princess on the palm tree, the rough bark digging into the thin satin of her panties. Palm trees weren’t made for thongs, but she didn’t have to be practical right now because she had Mason working magic between her thighs. He took his sweet time, though, and the little gasps and sighs that she couldn’t—wouldn’t—hold back? Those didn’t make him go faster at all. He was a man on a mission and she wanted to scream mine to the whole damned island.

  He licked a delicious trail higher up her thigh, drawing sugary patterns against her skin. His thumbs pushed beneath the edge of her panties, his big hands cupping her butt, shielding her from the palm tree’s rougher bits.

  “I like this garter-dance business,” he rasped, sounding like he meant every word.

  “We’re not dancing,” she felt compelled to point out.

  He exhaled and she felt that. “You’re awfully literal for somebody who wants me to believe a candy necklace is a garter.”

  His thumb slid beneath the fabric of her panties in a bluntly erotic caress. Swept up her soaked folds, parting her, finding her clit and pressing. It was a good thing she was sitting down, because her legs wouldn’t hold her now.

  “You have an excellent imagination,” she said.

  “You have no idea,” he growled. God. She loved it when he went all cranky, surly male on her. She had no idea what was going through his head, but he was thinking something and he wasn’t indifferent.

  “And you’re stopping.” There had to be a rule against leaving a gal hanging on a palm tree halfway to orgasm, and she’d invoke it.

  “Complaints.” But he said it with a roguish smile now, his thumb flicking and stroking her clit. Just that little bit of him was almost enough to send her over the edge. But she was playing a long game today and she wanted all of him. A quickie orgasm on the beach wasn’t enough.

  He lowered his head—slowly, which made her think that one of these days, before her vacation was over, she need to figure out what it took to make him lose control—and stroked his other thumb over the red satin.

  “You’re so pretty.”

  He made her feel like the most amazing woman he’d ever met, as if she was a fantasy lover who really, truly belonged on Fantasy Island. She was erotic and powerful. With Mason, she wasn’t standing on the sidelines, watching others live out her secret dreams. He was everything she’d dreamed about, and it was funny that she’d met him here. What were the chances of that?

  He eased her panties to the side, exposing her. “You’re even sweeter here.”

  She wasn’t sure what had happened to their garter dance, but she wasn’t complaining. She was wet and aroused, aching for more of a touch he was more than willing to give her. He cupped her butt in his hands, angling her, supporting her, and then he lowered his mouth to her. Her whole body sang with the pleasure of it. He licked and suckled, his tongue pressing against her clit in a steady, knowing rhythm. Each perfectly timed stroke pushed her higher, her heels digging hard into his back as she rode his mouth with gleeful abandon.

  When the pleasure inside her snapped, the orgasm rippling through her, he kissed her through that, too, easing her down, keeping her safe as she shrieked out his name and lost herself to the sensation.

  Eventually she came back to herself and released her death grip on his head. He snapped the necklace free, fisting the tiny pieces of candy like a knight seizing his lady’s favor, except there was nothing chaste about how Mason had touched her. What he’d done was raw and erotic, and she wouldn’t have had it any other way.

  He slid up her body, his eyes never leaving her face. “I’m keeping the necklace.”

  He could keep whatever he wanted. “Are we done?”

  “Not at all.” He swept her up in his arms, snagging her bag.

  “Oh, good.” The ease with which he lifted her made her feel skinny and delicate. She wasn’t those things—didn’t mind that she wasn’t because Mason clearly enjoyed her curves—but it was nice to be held so close. Plus, her knees were all quivery. He could go Neanderthal on her anytime he wanted.

  He carried her back to the villa with long, easy strides, not saying anything in particular. She rested her face against his chest, drinking in the way his fingers caressed the bare skin of her back. Her big red-and-white Aztec-print bag bumped his mighty fine ass with each step he took, but he didn’t look as though he minded, and if she got any more turned on, she’d spontaneously combust.

  “No sex on the beach?” She had to ask.

  A grin curved his mouth. “You’d sunburn.”

  “It’s after sunset. Chicken.” She grinned at him. God, he was cute.

  He nipped her mouth in a quick, hard kiss, striding up the path. “I’m voting for a bed.”

 
* * *

  NORMALLY, MASON COULD keep his inner caveman in check, even if his imagination sometimes suggested other, fun ways to please his partner. Today? Not so much. He felt a primal satisfaction in holding Maddie close, in carrying her. She wasn’t getting away from him now.

  Not that she looked as if she was trying.

  She tugged at his shirt, licking the sensitive hollow of his collarbone before she sucked the skin. Pleasure followed the sharp, bright burst of pain. Jesus. She couldn’t wait, either, and that definitely made his caveman happy.

  He somehow got the door to her villa open, dumped her bag on the couch and slid the dead bolt home. A housekeeping interruption wasn’t part of his plans.

  “Bedroom,” she panted, sliding her hands beneath his T-shirt.

  God. She drove him crazy. The feel of her wet, lush mouth suckling him, that adorable curiosity of hers...that and her uninhibited hunger for him? Yeah. He was a total goner. He took her into the bedroom, shoving down the covers and dropping her onto the mattress. After setting his phone on the bedside table—although he’d kill Gray if their recall timeline got stepped up—he performed a mental weapons check. He was clear.

  “Get naked.” She popped up, hands tugging impatiently at his clothes. Her landing had tossed her skirt up around her waist, and her red thong was a thing of beauty. “Or I’m not waiting.”

  When she ran a finger over her satin-covered center, he almost exploded.

  “You’re waiting.”

  She licked her lips, a devilish smile lighting up her face. “Make me.”

  “Is that a dare, sweetheart?”

  She reached for his belt, tugging and undoing him.

  * * *

  THE HUNGRY LOOK in Maddie’s eyes was hot, and holding on was the last thing Mason wanted to do, but he had to make this good for her. He needed her to remember this, remember them. Bracing his body over hers, he planted his knees on either side of her hips and captured her hands in one of his. She didn’t resist when he pulled them over her head and twisted her ponytail around his hand, tugging her head back to expose the soft curve of her throat. She was so close to him that there wasn’t an inch of space left between them and yet she was nowhere near enough.