One Hot SEAL by Anne Marsh Page A

around by the
water’s edge and gave her the money shot. His penis was every inch as
spectacular as it had been twelve years ago, thank God.
    Getting out of the truck, she
padded over to the blanket in just her bra and shorts. “You sure you want to
waste that on the river?”
    She pointed a finger at his dick.
The man had an impressive hard-on, and California river water was notoriously
cold.
    He smiled slowly. “You can still
have your way with me in the water.”
    Oookay. Before she could extort a
promise from him, he dove in. It wasn’t hard at all to imagine him as a SEAL.
He cut through the surface in a sleek, fast line and disappeared.
    After a minute, she started to
worry when he didn’t pop up for air. Damn it. He’d been a SEAL. That made him a
Navy boy and pretty much guaranteed he was a world-class swimmer. He couldn’t
drown in a river. Could he? Just in case, she shucked her shorts. The rest of
it—her bra and her panties—could stay on. She was vain enough to
want both the extra lift and the fancy packaging. Not that Luke would
appreciate it if he was drowning. Shoot.
    He was fine. He had to be, right? Guys
like him always were. But just in case… yeah, she had no idea what she’d do.
He’d rescued her once, so this was just kind of an evening of the scales. No big
deal. The right thing to do, even if she usually chose to do the wrong thing.
    Jump first, ask questions later.
    The river water was icy cold, the
bottom dropping away in a matter of feet.
    “Luke?” She’d lost all feeling in
her feet, thank God, because she hated slimy river bottoms.
    Strong arms wrapped around her
middle, scooping her up and against a muscled chest as Luke erupted from the
water. She glared up at him, torn between wanting to drown him for real and
pulling him close.
    See? Her inner good girl chortled. Everything’s
fine. Back to our regularly scheduled programming. She twisted her fingers in
his dog tags and yanked his head down.
    “Let’s not play drowning games,
okay?”
    He looked momentarily confused. “Sorry,
honey.”
    He actually seemed sorry. Of
course, she’d one-night-dated plenty of guys who’d also parroted “Sorry, honey”
in one form or another—usually as they walked out the door on her.
    “Fuck.” He tightened his grip. “Okay.
Oversight on my part. What do you know about BUD/S and drown-proofing?”
    Apparently nothing. “Keep
explaining.”
    “You go in the pool with your feet
tied together and your hands behind your back. As soon as you hit the bottom,
you kick for the surface. Then you go back down and do the whole thing again.
You don’t worry about drowning after that. I can hold my breath for over two
minutes.”
    “So the one of us who is a super
stud at holding his breath should notify the other party that he’s perfectly
happy hanging out on the bottom of the river for obscene amounts of time.”
    “Yes, sir.” He flipped her a
teasing salute. “We good now?”
    “Okay.” She didn’t want to hold on
to her mad. The water felt too good after poking through the ashy remnants of
her poor car, and her SEAL felt even better. “I guess you swam in places that
were way more dangerous than a puny little river.”
    “Trust me,” he said, rolling onto
his back so she rode his chest like he was her own personal merman. “I’m having
way more fun here.”            
    He finned through the water with
her, making for the little series of waterfalls where the river cascaded down a
few feet over slick, wet rock. Rivulets of foam streaked the surface, tiny
currents eddying around his shoulders. This whole back-to-nature thing was
really starting to work for her. Plus he was naked, and that just made her whole afternoon.
    “I didn’t get a chance to kiss you
our first night together,” he said, the rough-tender note in his voice making
something inside her melt. Where she saw last ,
he saw first, and how screwed up was
that? The water poured down around Luke’s