Page 11 of Honk if You Love Real Men (Tempting SEALs 1)

“Is it true that a Hollywood agent scouted you?”

He snorted. “That was nothing but a load of bullshit. But how did you hear about it?”

“Oh . . . I made inquiries of knowledgeable sources.”

“Uh-huh. You plotted to get me here.”

“Does that bother you?”

“Not as long as I had a choice too.”

“Had?”

“I’ve made it.” He set her against a corner of the pool, having slowly paddled them out of the deep end. The water came up to his chest and she could have stood too, except that he held her in place with his body, pinning her like a butterfly with her arms and legs outspread. The inset steps were nearby, but she didn’t even try to reach for them. Instead she slithered against him, catlike.

He let out a groan, half pleasure, half resistance. “Time for you to make your choice.”

She worked her arms down and with a flourish pulled the crocheted halter top off over her head. Her breath caught short as her breasts tumbled out, shining wet, glowing pale as a blue moon in the dancing reflections of the water. Please think I’m sexy. Think I’m wild and outrageous.

Jesse looked at her breasts, then at her face. His expression was raw. Hungry—so hungry, the tangible need of it rolled off him like heat from the sun—but, somehow, reluctant.

She forced out her voice. “I say—”

“Wait.” He lifted one breast in his palm, his thumb brushing leisurely across the nipple, making her shudder as small detonations went off inside her at every stroke. Her body flowed with sensation. She could come, she thought, if only he’d take her into his mouth and suck until the rapture ran through her hard and fast as a river.

“Before you decide, I should warn you.” His eyes bored into hers. “So you can change your mind.”

“I won’t.”

“Listen.” The flat of his hand covered her breast like a shield. “I’ve been in prison. I’m an ex-con.”

Chapter Three

The night took on a strange resonance as Jesse’s words echoed in Estrella’s head. She was hyperalert to the swish of traffic beyond the walls, the shimmy of the trees, the warm silk of the water. And especially to herself. Skin so alive, it twitched and crawled, the chorus of blood singing in her ears, the push-pull of her desire.

Then there was Jesse. He didn’t back off.

“Is that supposed to scare me away?” she asked, barely keeping the wobble out of her voice.

His gaze lowered to her breast, where he turned his hand over, gently scraping his knuckles over her tender flesh. He scooped water onto her, and she was amazed that it didn’t evaporate into steam.

“It should,” he said, sliding his fingers over her slick skin before pulling away. “Scare you.”

“Why? Did you do something really bad?”

“They don’t send a man to prison for being good.”

“But you were innocent.” She tried to smile. “Don’t they all say that?”

“On TV, yeah.” He looked at her, his head still down. The angle seemed predatory and she wondered what he would do if she tried to stop, to leave. Although his confession had given her the option, he didn’t seem like a man who would let go easily. She might be making a mistake.

“I was guilty,” he said.

“Of what?”

“Assault.”

She shrank, giving herself a half-inch of space to slither down the pool wall until her toes touched bottom and she was shoulder deep. “What kind of assault?”

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