To Dare A SEAL (Sin City SEALs 2)

Not his cock.

Her cheeks heated at the memory of Jack’s very long, hard, and most definitely big length pressed against her hand.

“Parts of who are small?” Natalie heard Cade’s deep voice in the background, followed by the sound of a door closing.

“Please say yes,” Lucia said, ignoring her fiancé. “I need to go. Cade and I have something we need to do. Wedding things.”

More like practice for the wedding night.

Natalie shook her head, trying to dislodge that thought. “Fine. I’ll drive him. But I’m leaving at noon today. If he’s not here, I’m hitting the road without him. He pays for half the gas.”

And if he thinks for even a second that this brings him closer to winning the bet, he’s wrong.

She didn’t dare say the words out loud. Lucia didn’t know about the bet. Natalie had promised Cade she’d tell her sister, but she couldn’t bring herself to say anything. Not now. Not yet.

If she breathed a word about Jack’s challenge, Lucia would step in and put a stop to the bet before Natalie could see Jack struggle. And Natalie didn’t want that. She was going to beat him at his own game.

Cade hated keeping secrets from his fiancée, but Natalie would tell her after the wedding, after Jack had lost, and after he’d shipped out again.

Natalie ended the call and stared at the Terrible Tutu as a plan formed in her mind. Maybe she could use this drive to crush Jack’s plans before they reached the state line.

With his rucksack over one shoulder, Jack stood on the sidewalk outside Natalie’s apartment complex and watched as she wrestled a bright pink monster into her trunk.

“You know, the moment I first saw you behind the bar, I knew you would be fun,” he drawled. “But I never pictured you in pink.”

Natalie glanced over her shoulder, both hands still buried in the pink thing. If that was her idea of a dress…shit, he’d take her shopping when they hit Vegas. And visiting women’s clothing stores was possibly the last item on his list of Things To Do With Natalie. Or next to last, right above shoe shopping. But that pink thing—

“Your idea of fun is staring at my back while I ignore you?” she said.

“Yes.” His gaze shifted to her ass. If they were alone, out of sight of her neighbors and the possibility that a cop could drive by and arrest them for indecent exposure, he would order her to spread her legs and keep her hands planted. He pictured moving behind her and pressing up against her. He would lean forward and draw her shirt up, exposing her bra. Then he’d run his hands over her bare skin until he reached her skirt. He would draw the fabric up, revealing her panties inch by inch. Then he would leave the bunched-up material decorating her hips. He’d run his hands up her butt and explore every inch of her. And she wouldn’t move without his permission.

Another woman would follow his orders. But not Natalie. Not yet. And he didn’t want anyone else.

“We have different ideas of fun,” she said.

“Oh, I think we’d agree on some things. Give me a chance and I’ll prove it.”

“No.” She quickly released the pink monster and slammed the trunk. A small piece of the skirt had slipped out and was now dangling over her bumper. “Your bag will have to ride in the backseat with Mufasa,” she added.

Jack nodded as he approached the compact black car. He opened the rear passenger side door and slid his rucksack along the floor. The Great Pyrenees lying across the seat lifted his head and glanced at the bag.

He gently closed the door, leaving the giant dog to mourn his fate—a long drive in a small, overfilled car. He moved to the passenger side door and opened it. “Hop in, Natalie, and I promise to drive you wild.”

“No, you won’t.” She headed for the driver’s side. “My car. I’m driving. And I brought earphones.”

“Worried I’ll seduce you on the highway?” He settled into the passenger seat, trying to recall the last time he rode shotgun. As a rule, he drove. His teammates all respected the fact that he’d excelled at defense driving/race car school. And he liked being in control of the vehicle.

“No, but I have a feeling you’ll give me a headache with all of your stupid pick-up lines.” She turned the key and slipped the car in reverse.

“I’ve heard sex cures headaches.”

Natalie kept her gaze focused on the road. “I heard you use that one last night, Jack.”

“Not on you.”

“Oh, wow, you’re a Navy SEAL. Your job must be so hard,” she said, raising her voice an octave in a decent imitation of the redhead he’d met at Bottom’s Up yesterday. “Some days it’s tough,” she continued, lowering her voice. But shit, he didn’t sound like that. Not even close. “Today gave me a headache. But I hear sex cures headaches. Want to give it a shot?”

“It worked,” he pointed out. “If I hadn’t turned her attention to Ronan, she would have volunteered to help with my headache.”