Heat of Passion
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Carson’s hands slid down her back to her ass, cupping it, stroking it, and then he moved one hand to her front, inched it down to the juncture of her thighs…and pulled it away.
She swallowed back a groan of disappointment as he ended the incredible kiss.
“No.” His features strained. “I meant what I said. I want more this time.”
Holly could see that she’d lost the battle. Fortunately, the war was still up for grabs.
Sighing, she asked, “Do you have a cell phone?”
“Can I see it?”
Shooting her a quizzical look, he pulled a slender phone from his back pocket and handed it to her. Without giving him time to object, she quickly programmed in her phone number and handed him back the cell.
“My number’s in there now,” she said with a grin. “So if you change your mind, you know how to reach me.”
Carson looked pained. “You really want this fling, don’t you?”
“You bet I do. So don’t keep me waiting long, okay, Carson?”
Still grinning, she turned and walked away.
“Can you tell me why the f**k we’re playing mini-golf?” Will asked as he awkwardly gripped his putter with two hands. Will, the SEAL who could jump off a helicopter with his eyes closed, stared at the hole in bewilderment, as if unable to comprehend why a fake mountain blocked his path.
“We’re playing mini-golf because it’s fun. And since you suck at pool, I figured there might be a shot of some real competition here,” Carson answered with a sigh. “Jesus, Lieutenant, just putt the f**king ball up that slope and gravity will bring it down to the other side.”
Will looked up with a glare he normally reserved for terrorists. “I know what to do, ass**le. I’m just mentally preparing.”
Oh brother. Carson crossed his arms over his chest and waited. Impatiently. They were only on the fourth hole of this shitty nine-hole course and they’d been here for an hour already, all because Will Charleston had to mentally prepare every freaking time he putted.
Two minutes later, Will tapped the ball. It rolled up the little brown mountain slope, lost momentum, and rolled right back to his feet.
“Shit!” the Lieutenant exclaimed. “I swear, this course is defective.”
Carson couldn’t help it. He laughed. Really hard. And when his stomach started to hurt, he bent over and wheezed for a couple of seconds. After he’d recovered, he glanced up to see Will hopping over the three-foot mountain with the ball in his hand.
Carson walked around to the side just as Will was setting the ball down a foot from the hole.
“Hey, no cheating,” Carson objected, wiping tears of laughter from the corners of his eyes.
“This isn’t cheating. It’s effective problem solving. Got a problem with that, Ensign?”
Carson rolled his eyes. Will always resorted to calling Carson by his lower rank when he was feeling cranky. Ah well. He wasn’t one to judge—God knows Carson was feeling pretty cranky himself.
Fine, not cranky. More like ridiculously sexually frustrated.
He still felt like kicking himself for not taking Holly up on her offer Friday night. For passing up on what was guaranteed to be more of the best sex of his life. But he’d had no choice. He’d meant what he told her—he wasn’t interested in one-night stands or flings anymore. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for a serious relationship either, but he was willing to give it a shot.
And maybe he was crazy, but he wanted to try it with Holly. He barely knew her, but what he did know, he totally liked. She was gorgeous. Funny. A little quirky, but that only gave her character. Even her confession that she was a good girl hadn’t turned him off. Because, really, would a good girl have propositioned a stranger in a nightclub? Obviously Holly had a dark, wild side that was just begging to be explored…
Of course, if he weren’t such an idiot, he could be the one exploring it with her right now.
Will’s exclamation jerked him back to the present. Forcing all thoughts of Holly out of his mind—he couldn’t very well play mini-golf while plagued with a monster boner—he turned his attention to Will, who’d successfully putted his ball into the hole and was marking down his score on one of the little scorecards the kid at the main booth had given them.
It was a little weird, hanging out with just Will. Carson had never really spent much time alone with the quiet SEAL, but since Garrett was on his honeymoon, and the other guys had left for the desert this morning on a training op, Will had been the only one around.
“Now who’s slacking?” came Will’s voice.
Carson glanced down at the layout of the next hole and putted the ball into the mouth of a creepy-looking clown. It popped out the other side, an inch from the cup.
Will went next, and the clown spat the ball back out, a mechanical voice shrieking, “Try again, loser!”
And that was the end of the game. Very calmly, Will lifted his putter and whipped it at the clown’s smiling red mouth. “Never ask me to do this again,” Will growled as he walked off the green.