Free Her One Best SEAL (ASSIGNMENT: Caribbean Nights Book 6) by Anne Marsh Page B

fact that she is, indeed, mostly naked. On her front porch. Where any and all of Angel Cay’s nosy residents could wander past. Her bikini reveals more, but it’s the principle of the thing, and this time she moans, her eyes widening in panic. Okay. I can take pity on her—among other things.
    I nudge her inside. I’m not opposed to public sex, but Marlee’s starting to move beyond the slightly panicked. I start thinking about paper bags and 9-1-1. Can someone stroke out from embarrassment?
    And then suddenly she’s laughing, her breath catching hard as she bursts into giggles. “This is all your fault.”
    “I’m not the one who took your clothes off,” I protest. “Although I’d be happy to lend a hand if that’s what you want. Just give me a heads up next time.”
    “Shut up,” she mutters.
    Her lips are soft and slick, and somehow my mouth brushes over them. Once. Twice. Her breath catches, but she doesn’t move. Doesn’t tear herself away. Doesn’t say no . Instead, she comes up on tiptoe, her hands gripping my shoulders tight. As if she’s afraid I’ll be the one to back away when I could kiss her a million times and it still wouldn’t be enough.
    I kiss her harder, deeper, opening her up with my tongue so I can taste all of her. Christ. She’s sweet. She twists her fingers in my shirt, and the husky, greedy moan that escapes her is what breaks me.
    I’m kissing Marlee .
    I tear my mouth away from hers.
    “Tell me what you want and it’s yours.” Fuck. My voice comes out low and rough. It’s pretty damned clear I’m desperate, but even so, I’m not expecting the words that come out of her mouth next.
    “Give me a baby?”

B abies are boner killers. It’s a proven fact. The minute the word baby is hanging in the air between us, my dick retreats. It’s smarter than my mouth, which pops out the question: “Why?”
    Not hell no .
    Not your foreplay needs work .
    Just why?
    Along with not being pro-emotions, I’m also not a family guy. I left home and enlisted the day I turned eighteen. My family’s place had too much drama, too many broken people. So this urge Marlee has to pop out a baby doesn’t compute. And since I’m not her husband, her OB-GYN, or even the fucking receptionist at a sperm bank, it’s none of my business that she wants a baby and clearly needs help in accomplishing her goal.
    People have babies all the time. It’s perfectly natural. In fact… there’s a point I should clarify.
    “You want to have a baby now ?”
    I know it requires nine months to bake a baby, but it’s hard to miss the immediacy of Marlee’s request. She wriggles against me, but I’m not going anywhere. I lean in, giving her a little more of my weight. Remember when those three little pigs built those crappy houses and challenged the Big Bad Wolf not to turn them into bacon? Let’s just say that if I were a house in that scenario, I’d be the one made of bricks rather than sticks.
    “In nine months would be great,” she says in a little voice.
    Jesus. I back up so fast I practically ricochet off the wall. Maybe I’ve misunderstood.
    “You’re not pregnant now , are you?”
    Because even though I didn’t feel a baby between me and her, I’m equally certain that babies shouldn’t be squashed against brick walls—or former SEALs. I wave a hand toward her stomach and she laughs.
    One of those laughs that makes you want to pry your heart out with your fingernails or a bayonet because clearly nothing is funny. She sounds kind of sad, in fact.
    “No, Vann. I’m not pregnant now. I just really want a baby.”
    And I want a beer. A shot of tequila. This is the real reason why men and women can’t be friends. I’m sure Vali would know exactly what to say or do. Me? Not so much.
    “I’m all out of babies, or I’d give you one.” I joke, but it falls flat.
    “You can help me,” she says, and she sounds deadly serious. Her gaze sweeps me from head to toe again and her eyes take on a