Page 8 of Tice’s Kind of Trouble (Obsessive Protectors #2)

EIGHT

Bethany

It’s like he can read my mind. Tice knows exactly what I need. Right now, it’s a distraction. Stepping out of my world… into his.

“Would you join me… naked?”

Tice stands, his hand going to the bottom of his shirt, drawing it upward.

My mind plays out the next movement in slow motion. Glorious, velvet, golden skin over ridges and rows of muscles appears one by one.

The effect makes me sway, my hand shooting out to grab the chaise lounge behind me.

Oh my god. He’s stunning .

His shirt is tossed to the ground, his dark eyes locked on my face, watching. Reading every thought I have.

Surely, he knows I’m melting, because when he reaches for his belt buckle, my face flames—and he grins.

Oh. God. Slay me now. That grin.

That incredible body.

“I think I might need a lifeguard,” I mutter, unable to look away as he lowers his zipper and hooks two thick, long thumbs into his black briefs. “I’m drowning, and I’m not even in the water.”

Tice chuckles. “Good thing I’m a SEAL. I’m trained to rescue.”

“What else are you trained in?”

“All things that require stamina.”

Heaven help me.

“Uh…” I stammer. “I think I need to jump in the water now.”

He pushes those briefs down—without a single ounce of modesty—making me go wide-eyed.

Somehow, I remember to breathe, but it’s ragged. And loud. Embarrassingly so.

“Let’s get you undressed,” he says in a husky tone, as I literally ogle the man.

“I’m not sure I can move,” I squeak.

One wrong move and I might explode into an orgasm right here on his lounge chair.

Not only would that be mortifying, it would be unheard of. I’ve never climaxed besides with Lady Rocket, my battery-powered friend.

Tice draws me to my feet, his hands immediately going to my waist. Those same thumbs that lowered his pants skim the top of mine. “Going to scare you if I tell you that I’ve fantasized about this?”

“I’m too intoxicated from looking at you to be scared.”

He leans in, dipping down from his incredibly tall height until his mouth is next to my ear.

“Good,” he says with a husky rasp that makes my blood sing. “I want you addicted.”

His mouth lowers, the scruff on his jaw teasing my neck before his tongue makes contact.

“Want you to forget about all other men.”

Rocket be damned. I’m already pulsing inside.

“Haha.” I choke out a laugh, desperate and a little crazy sounding. “You don’t have to worry about that. There is no way anyone could do what you’ve done to me already.”

“What’s that?”

“Agree to skinny dip. And…”

Embarrassment gnashes through me like sharks chomping at my arousal.

When his palms move from my waist to my ribs and he spans nearly all of me, a whimper catches in my throat.

“And what, beautiful?”