Undercover with a SEAL

Ashe relaxed beneath her, seemingly completely at ease with having a woman squirming around on his lap. But she felt vulnerable. Terribly exposed. Even though her miniskirt flared around both of their hips, hiding most of what was going on underneath it.

“Move your hips like this,” he instructed, guiding her hips through a slow figure eight. “You can rock like before or do those circles you were doing, too.”

“This is hard,” she complained.

A low chuckle rumbled behind her. “I believe hard is the point.”

She looked over her shoulder to roll her eyes at him.

He grinned. “Just sayin’.”

“Behave.”

He shrugged. “It’s not like either of us has any choice here. If I don’t have a grin on my face or a pronounced limp, Vitaly’s going to try to hurt you. And since I’m not about to let him do that, all hell will break loose.”

“So you’re not enjoying this?” She didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

“Well, now, I didn’t say that,” he drawled. “I think if you put a little enthusiasm into it, maybe pretended I was your boyfriend, you might have a future in the profession.”

Imagine him as her boyfriend, huh? That wasn’t much of a stretch. The memory of his magnificent naked chest in her apartment last night popped into her head. Nope. Not a stretch at all. Let alone the steamy dreams of him that had disrupted her sleep.

She realized with a start that she was moving more sensuously against him, enjoying the feel of him growing restless beneath her. Tense. Hungry.

He was faking it, of course, which was really sweet of him. Warming up to the ruse a little more, she let her mind wander into a pleasant fantasy of the two of them together.

They would be in a beautiful old room with antique furniture, hardwood floors and white gauze curtains. The big four-poster bed would have fat pillows and white linen sheets. A fan would turn lazily overhead, stirring the sultry air. They would make love slowly. Easily. With aching tenderness that gradually turned into raging, sweaty passion...

“Okay, then,” Ashe ground out. “That should be enough to shut up your boss.”

She stilled abruptly. Ohmigosh. Her hips had been undulating all over the place. She’d been riding him like a total hussy.

“I’m sorry—” she started.

“Hush,” he muttered, cutting her off. “Vitaly will be delighted.” A pause, and then he added wryly, “Too delighted. Bastard’s gonna want to put you to work back here after that performance.” He swore quietly as he lifted her off his lap.

She turned to face him, surprised that he hadn’t stood up already. But a quick, unwilling glance at his lap revealed the source of his delay. His zipper strained to contain the raging erection behind it. He’d been genuinely turned on by her lap dance? “I didn’t suck, then?” she blurted.

A short bark of laughter slipped out of him. “You did not suck.”

He gritted his teeth and visibly reached for self-control. Sympathetically she suggested, “Think about your grandmother. Church. An ice-cold shower.”

Another laugh, this time a little pained. “I’ve got this, thanks. Just give me a second.”

She turned her back to give him a little privacy to get his body under control. It was more like a minute, but he eventually rose to his feet behind her. He leaned close, his big body radiating heat against her spine. “Don’t argue with me when I talk to Vitaly. I have a plan.”

Now what on earth did that mean?

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