Daring Her Seal. Anne Marsh

hadn’t come out all gruff, like her question was a challenge that pissed him off.

      “Not sex her up,” Dixon snapped. Jesus. Did she ever slow down and not take offense? Or was it just him that irritated her so badly? “I mean real, bona fide romance.”

      “Maybe you better give a for example. Are we talking flowers and candles, or do you want me spouting poetry?”

      She snorted. “I’m not anti-flower, but that’s not what I meant. You’ve got flowers and candles covered right here in this bar, and we’re about as far from romantic as it’s possible to get.”

      He made a give-it-up gesture with his hand. “You’d better educate me then, Dixon. As a public service.”

      “Tell me about the first girl you dated seriously.”

      “Gonna have to define seriously.” Candlelight was a good look for Ashley. She smelled good—he’d noticed that as soon as he sat down. If pretty had a smell, it was Ashley. Fruit, flowers, maybe both. Hell if he knew, but he liked it. She smelled edible, and he wanted to lick her from head to toe, even though it would be a seriously bad idea. He had no doubt at all that she’d throttle him.

      “Are you serious?” If her grip got any tighter on her beer bottle, she might shatter the glass. While he found her strength kind of sexy, he also found it frustrating. Her opinion of him was about as low as opinions could get. Kinda made him feel like he was the dog turd stuck to the bottom of her mental sneaker.

      Whatever. Ashley kept right on yelling at him, which was also familiar territory. “You dated the girl for more than a single night. You did things that did not involve a bed, a wall, the floor, or your penis poking her. You exchanged nonpornographic words, and if pressed, you could come up with a list of at least five things you liked about her that did not involve sex acts.”

      “You realize that, by that definition, we’re dating seriously, babe.”

      Her forehead got the cutest little crinkle in it when she was thinking. Since his logic was solid, he tugged the beer out of her hand and stole a swallow. Beer always tasted better when it belonged to someone else.

      “Arresting drug lords doesn’t count as a date,” she protested eventually. She knew he had her.

      “I brought you to this gorgeous tropical island.” He waved a hand around the beach bar. “You’ve got sand, stars, and unlimited alcohol.”

      Double gotcha.

      She grabbed her beer back. “You don’t like anything about me.”

      “That’s not true either.”

      She pointed the beer bottle at him. “Prove it. If we’re dating, tell me what you like about me.”

      “Might want to rephrase that, babe. Narrow your terms a little.”

      Honestly, he didn’t know where Dixon had gotten the idea that he didn’t like her. She was part of his team. He had nothing but respect for her job skills. So what if they rubbed each other the wrong way and gave each other shit? That didn’t mean he didn’t like her. Liking didn’t come into it at all. The sidelong look she sent his way drove him crazy. Also made him want to misbehave, since she so clearly expected the worst from him.

      “If you want an ode to your left boob, I’m happy to give it a shot,” he continued. Yeah. That did it. Ashley’s lips tightened, and her mouth flew open. She’d achieve nuclear detonation in three seconds if he didn’t start talking fast. Since coming up with haiku about her breasts on the fly actually did exceed his capabilities, he gave her the truth.

      “You’ve got killer skills with hardware. That’s one. Two? You can break down and reassemble an M4 as fast as any of the guys on the team.”

      “Dating isn’t a job interview,” she said dryly. “And that’s the kind of crap I put on my résumé. I’m not feeling the romance here.”

      “Shut up. I’m in charge of the list. Three? You’re not afraid of anything. You got something to say? You say it. Doesn’t matter if it’s just me, or the SEAL team commander, or half of Congress. If it’s on your mind, you’ll say it.”

      She laughed. “Yeah. I’m blunt. I’ll give you that.”

      He hadn’t realized his list was up for discussion. “You’re happy. That’s number four. I’ve never heard you bitch about field conditions or wanting something different. Not saying you’re Suzy Sunshine, but when we’re on a job you don’t bitch just to bitch. You roll with what life hands you.”

      She got a funny look on her face, but she’d started this. If she didn’t like what he had to say, that wasn’t his problem. And he actually did like her. So what if he’d never really thought it through before?

      “Number five? I can hang out with you and drink a beer. Better yet, I can dare you to do stupid shit and you’ll say yes. You’ve got a secret fun side, Dixon, and I definitely like that about you.”

      And conveniently, he knew just the way to do it, too.

      “So how about it? You taking my dare?”

      * * *

      THE LOOK ON Levi’s face was pure mischief. No. Scratch that, because there was absolutely, positively nothing pure about the man. He was unashamedly filthy. Ordinarily, she kind of enjoyed that about him—not that she’d admit it—but he’d risen to the challenge and now he was proposing one of his own.

      Performing a solo sex show wasn’t on the top of her to-do list, however. Of course, making a personal sex tape or sending naked selfies wasn’t on there either, so maybe she needed to loosen up. Or convince Levi to go first. There was definitely one thing they needed to get straight first.

      “Wait.” She patted the suggestive cocktail menu. “Some of these drinks are a team endeavor. I’m not having sex with you—or with anyone else.”

      Not that she was planning on losing the dare but, just in case, it was probably prudent to establish a few ground rules. God knew, Levi could probably have sex with an entire circus troupe, but she wasn’t watching that, participating in that, or even thinking about that. Much.

      He bumped her knee with his own. It was a good knee, hard and firm. She could feel the heat of his skin through his cargo pants and the sensation promptly sent her mind into the gutter. Darn it. It had to be the island and the anything-goes sexual ambiance that actually had her picturing Levi naked.

      “Got it,” he said. “Anything I pick has to be a solo act. No orgies, threesomes, or anything involving multiples.”

      Was she really going to do this? It was stupid. Juvenile. There were plenty of adjectives that covered the situation, and all of them screamed stop and reassess. She hesitated, the yes stuck on her tongue.

      Levi raised a brow mockingly. “Chicken?”

      “Don’t be juvenile,” she sniffed. She wasn’t afraid of him. Or of losing. She’d seen the drinks menu—how bad could it be if she gave in?

      Plus, who was she kidding? It was worth the risk just to watch Mr. I-can’t-keep-it-in-my-pants SEAL suffer through a week of sexual abstinence. The odds of Levi’s achieving an orgasm-free week were low.

      “You’re on.” He toasted her lazily with his beer bottle. His empty beer bottle. Har. She’d won that one. “We’ve decided the rules for my part of the deal. Now let’s finalize yours.”

      She concentrated on not hyperventilating while she got her thoughts together. Honestly, she had no idea how she’d gotten sucked into a sexy dare with Levi. Stuff just kind of happened around him, though, like he was a magnet for trouble. Maybe that had something to do with the fact that the man had never met a rule he didn’t want to break. If the sign read “Don’t climb,” he climbed. She’d hung the equivalent of the world’s biggest “Keep off the grass” sign on her chest with her celibacy dare, so maybe it was only natural he wanted to be all over her. Levi