Page 9 of Honk if You Love Real Men (Tempting SEALs 1)

She forgot her modesty. “You’ve been to Rio?”

“I was all over the world for nine years. Merchant marine. Got the job when I was nineteen and looking to get away from trouble.”

“How old are you now?” Her eyes were huge.

“Old enough. Are you?”

“I’m not as young as I look. That’s just my round face.” She tucked a hank of her loose hair behind her ear, curling the ends around her finger before she realized the gesture was girlish. She tossed her hair over her shoulder, tilting forward with her breasts swaying inside the slings of the halter. Her nipples were erect, two shadowed bumps teasingly visible in the open slivers between the woven threads.

He ran his gaze over her body. She was short, curvy, bursting with wholesome goodness like a commercial touting the healthy benefits of fruit. “You’re round all over.”

“Obviously you don’t know women. A comment like that won’t get me to strip.”

“Hike round.”

“Such as?”

“What do you want me to say? Balloons and merry-go-rounds? Forget it.” He glided closer to her dangling legs, slipping a hand along the back of her calves. “I like round female bodies. Round tits, round butts, round thighs.”

“Round tummies?” His bluntness had made her blush, and her voice was hoarse, but she wasn’t giving up. “I have a little pooch.”

“A little pooch? Like what, a poodle?”

She smiled, shaking her head very fast so her hair loosened and fell around her face, curving into two dark parentheses against her rosy cheeks.

His fingers crept along her leg. “Let me see.”

She tightened her thighs. “Not yet.”

“You’re uncomfortable?”

“I don’t know you.”

He thought that was the point. “You know my name and my job. More than I know about you.”

“My job . . .” She looked up at the building and sighed.

“Must be important,” he guessed. “To afford that convertible and this place.”

Her brow scrunched. “Is one job more important than another?”

“EMT. Firefighter. Social worker. Schoolteacher.”

“Well, yes. But lawyer over construction worker?” She shook her head. “Not to me.”

“Are you a lawyer?”

“Mercy, no. My job isn’t important. Especially tonight.”

He stroked her leg. Firm, supple flesh. She worked out. In an expensive gym, he supposed, puffing on a treadmill in a coordinated outfit. Except the image didn’t quite fit.

“What’s important tonight?” he asked. His voice rough.

“Do I have to say it?”

“Only if you want to.”

She looked at him, a direct stare. The lights around the pool made stars in her eyes.

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