Teasing Her Seal

Subject: Navy SEAL Gray Jackson

Objective: Stay on mission. And out of her bed.

Surgeon Laney Parker is on her honeymoon. Alone. Without her cheating fiancé, she’s enjoying her nonrefundable “vacation” at Fantasy Island, an exotic resort filled with lush greenery, white beaches and staff who apparently grant every sexual request. Including an unbearably hot massage therapist whose touch turns Laney to molten lava...

Laney has no idea that Gray Jackson is actually an undercover Navy SEAL who’s supposed to keep his hands off. Or that Gray wants to take total control. To give Laney just what she—hell, what they both need. Gray can grant her every erotic wish, just as long as he keeps his cover. And just as long as their sexy little tease doesn’t go beyond the week...

“I’m going to kiss you soon...”

Gray’s words were a statement of intent and not a request. Laney’s body sure noticed the difference. Gray wasn’t taking her anywhere. Not only was he bossy and domineering, but he knew it and he wasn’t making any excuses for it. She shouldn’t have been so turned on by it, but...she was.

Oh, God. Was she ever. With Gray, she wouldn’t have to give directions or look after her own orgasm. He was dangerous.

She sucked in a breath and angled a little bit closer, until her thighs bumped against his. She could do this. Be sexy and bold and fun. “How about now?”

“I can do that.” His thumb stroked over her lower lip. Good, she decided. But not enough.

She fisted the front of his T-shirt, inching him closer. “Do it.”

Before I lose my courage.

He grinned.

“Your wish is my command...”

Dear Reader,

Fantasies are one of my favorite things to explore. Part of that, of course, is me daydreaming (even if my husband isn’t convinced that staring out the window is a valuable research tool). Everyone has fantasies—it’s just that some of us don’t find it easy to ask for what we want, particularly in bed. But...what if there was an easier way to whisper a fantasy to a lover? A sexy, fun and flirty way?

When Laney Parker visits Fantasy Island, a very exclusive private Caribbean island resort, she learns that the resort’s guests have a shorthand code for sharing their sexual fantasies. The resort’s cocktail menu is a list of sexy drink names—choose a drink and you choose your fantasy. Sex on the Beach, All Night Long, Between the Sheets, Blue Negligee. Some names are raunchy; some are sweeter and less blush-inducing (if no less fun). When Laney meets Gray Jackson, our hero, she suddenly sees the appeal of picking a fantasy from a menu because there are all sorts of things she’d like to try with him.

As a trauma surgeon, Laney is used to being in control of every facet of her life. She’s disciplined, mentally strong and good at giving orders. What she doesn’t know is how to let go. Gray Jackson, the leader of the undercover SEAL team that has infiltrated Fantasy Island in order to take down a dangerous drug lord, is just the man to tease her into giving up some of that control. He has a few fantasies of his own, and soon he and Laney are burning up the sheets together.

I hope you enjoy their story. If you want to chat with me about this or other books, you can find me on Twitter and Facebook.

Happy reading!

Anne Marsh

ANNE MARSH writes sexy contemporary and paranormal romances because the world can always enjoy one more alpha male. She started writing romance after getting laid off from her job as a technical writer—and quickly decided happily-ever-afters trumped software manuals. She lives in Northern California with her family and six cats.

This one’s for Gwen Hayes. Honestly, all books should be for her because she rocks. Awesome writer. Amazing editor. Hilarious Tweet-er, thinker-upper of sekkrit book projects and exercise raconteur. Thanks for sharing the writing journey with me.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

Extract

Copyright

1

“HUNGRY?” THE DANCER gyrating in front of Lieutenant Commander Gray Jackson’s table wasn’t pushing burgers or chicken wings. She ran a hand down her body, highlighting various edible spots. Her costume—or lack thereof, because she rocked a barely there thong and a pair of four-inch Lucite heels—offered plenty to look at. It was a sad commentary on the state of Gray’s sex life, however, that the skin show left him unmoved, without so much as a twitch from the boys.

“Darling, I’m always ready to eat.” He ponied up the teasing words automatically, because his cover as a bad-boy biker required acting like a jerk. When he didn’t follow up with a cash offer, the blonde pouted and moved on to the next table. Too bad, so sad.

The Born To Ride was a seedy dive bar popular with motorcycle gangs. On a mission to infiltrate the outlaw biker gang M-Breed and shut down their arms pipeline, Gray’s squad had been deep undercover as potential recruits for the past six months. It was a scene Gray recognized all too well from his wilder, younger years. Dancers shimmied up and down poles on a raised platform to the banging pulse of the music, while the patrons knocked back beers and shots, broken up by the occasional bar fight or game of pool. This was