Page 33 of Pleasing Her SEAL

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She twisted her head, trying to dislodge his hand. Downplay it. “Somebody wakes up grumpy.”

He stared down at her, as if he had no idea how he’d ended up on top of her. She’d draw him a diagram—later. She wriggled, because the position had both possibilities and some serious drawbacks. Breathing, for instance, fell into the drawback category. Her man seriously outweighed her and it felt as though a water buffalo had parked himself on her boobs. Taking a deep breath was impossible.

Help.

“Maddie?” The way he rasped her name in a sleep-roughened voice fell into the possibilities column. He whipped his hand away from her throat, a move she appreciated even as she made a mental note to never, ever poke him awake in the middle of the night. “Fuck.”

“I’m good with that,” she said, because making a joke was so much better than dealing with unwelcome trembling she couldn’t quite stop. When had Mason gotten so fierce looking? “If you’re volunteering to put out.”

He didn’t look particularly pleased to see her, but he also didn’t wear his emotions on his face. She wiggled again, to remind him that she was still pinned beneath him—with the water buffalo parked on her chest. And, thank you, downtown interest from Mason. She also had to wonder why he still hadn’t let go of her wrists.

“Are we playing domination games? Because I’ve never done that before. You could be my first.”

He sprang off her, and that was about as far from flattering as it was possible to get.

“Did I hurt you? Can you breathe?”

She took a quick inventory because he looked so serious. It was cute, the way he worried. “I’m a little more 2-D than 3-D at the moment, but I’ll live. And I’ve got my inhaler if I need it.”

He thunked his head back on the lounger and groaned. He hadn’t been all that rough, so she had no idea what his problem was. Maybe he was still wrestling with his inner gentleman—in which case, she was probably the one who needed to do the apologizing, because her inner bad girl had come out days ago with one goal and one goal only: get Mason into bed.

He pushed up on one elbow. She, on the other hand, was content to lie there and stare up at him. Who needed to get all energetic about things? Not only was he gorgeous when he was all sleepy and rumpled, but his eyes held a concern that she liked all too much. She really didn’t think she was just a convenient vacation hookup for him. Really. She didn’t.

Or maybe that was just more wishful thinking on her part.

“No bruises. No broken bones,” she said cheerfully. “In fact, I’m as good as new.”

He rubbed his thumb over her throat, smoothing the skin he’d strong-armed. “Hurting you is the last thing I want to do. You need to be careful when I’m asleep. I don’t—”

“Wake up well?” Understatement. On the other hand, his words sure implied he planned on doing some more waking up around her, and just the thought had her heart hammering at her rib cage, as if the thing could leap straight out and into Mason’s arms. If she was lucky, the waking up would happen after a night of really hot sex. She could suggest a practice session. Or two. Or six...

“Yeah.” He dragged a hand down his face. “Look—”

She needed to point one thing out. “If you apologize, I’m going to kill you.”

He nodded. “Duly noted, although I feel the need to point out that apologizing would be the polite thing to do.”

“Because you pinned me?” She shrugged. “You startled me. I got over it. To be honest, I found it kind of sexy.”

He made a choked sound.

See? The man really didn’t have serial killer tendencies after all. She’d caught him at a bad moment. That was all.

“I’ve shocked you.” She crossed her arms over her chest. Partly because she needed to do something with her hands, and putting them on Mason’s body was apparently not an option this afternoon, but also because the move gave her some serious cleavage. From the way Mason’s eyes darkened, he’d definitely noticed. He didn’t make a move, though. The man sure had discipline.

She sighed. “You’re going to insist on being a gentleman, aren’t you?”

“Probably.” He stood up. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” Say to bed, her inner bad girl begged shamelessly. Because that was where we really want to be.

“I’ll walk you back to your place because I’m a gentleman,” he said, flashing a grin. She made a face. “How can you look like such a bad boy but be such a nice guy?”


Tags: Anne Marsh Erotic