Free Under Pressure by Kira Sinclair

Kennedy’s secret, his insistent attraction to the man’s sister or the way his body reacted whenever she was close. He had this aversion to getting his ass kicked and avoided it whenever possible.
    “Not to my satisfaction.”
    “Tough shit.”
    Jackson grunted but, thank the good lord, changed the subject. “How’s the production crew?”
    “They tried to dress me in a three-piece suit...with a bow tie.”
    The loud burst of laughter made some of the heaviness in Asher’s chest disappear. Part of him wanted to reach through the phone and smack Jackson in the back of the head, which was exactly what he would have done if they’d been in the same room. The rest of him simply smiled at the sound of his friend’s laughter.
    That’s what friends were for, after all. Jackson had his back, one hundred and ten percent of the time. The man had saved his life on more than one occasion, and Asher had taken a bullet for him. The battlefield bonded you in ways everyday life just couldn’t.
    Besides, he could give as good as he got and had laughed his ass off plenty at Jackson’s expense when his friend had first gotten together with Loralei.
    “Thanks,” he said, sarcasm leaking through the single word. “Your sympathy is overwhelming.”
    “I’m sorry. I just...the visual is too much.”
    “Then you’d have loved the chick who kept popping up out of nowhere to brush powder across my face.”
    “Makeup? They have you wearing makeup?”
    Asher grunted, trying to block out the memories. Who would have thought brushes and tiny pots of colored powder could masquerade as torture devices?
    “Please, tell me there are pictures of that.”
    He damn well hoped not. That was the last thing he needed. His man card was already in jeopardy as it was.
    “Not a snowball’s chance in hell.”
    A smile tugged at his lips. This was exactly what he’d needed, a conversation with his friend to set him back on even ground.
    And remind him why touching Kennedy was a bad, bad idea. There was too much at stake and not even an amazing night with her was worth losing everything that mattered to him. And he wasn’t naive enough to think starting something with her could end any other way...no woman in his life ever stuck.
    Asher heard a soft, feminine voice in the background on Jackson’s end. “Tell Loralei I said hi, and to give you shit.”
    “I’ll tell her the first part. She’s got the second handled just fine without your prompting. Listen, man, I have to go. Things are moving quickly here.”
    That was good news. Locating the Chimera had gained Trident some exposure, but this new find could cement their position within the salvage industry.
    After this documentary aired, their visibility would increase even more. The ultimate goal was to be able to focus full-time on treasure and historical salvages and let the commercial diving side of their business, which was the only thing keeping them afloat right now, gradually fade away.
    Which meant, somehow, someway, he needed to get through this documentary. This was his opportunity to contribute.
    “Thanks, man. Seriously. I know doing this documentary isn’t your idea of a good time. I appreciate you taking one for the team.”
    His resolve cemented as Jackson hung up.
    Asher flopped onto the bed, arms and legs spread wide.
    At least Kennedy’s little stunt tonight proved one thing. He’d conquered his fear of the camera once before. He could do it again.
    He simply had to find a method that didn’t require him to touch Kennedy, kiss her or strip the clothes from her luscious body.

6
    K ENNEDY STARED AT the video playing across her computer screen. It was late. Or early. She’d meant to download the file from the camera and then go to bed. Tomorrow was going to be an interesting day. But somewhere along the way, her good intentions had flown out the window.
    The first time she’d hit Play, she’d told herself it was so she could see if she could learn anything helpful