Font Size:

Except it felt like so much more than that.

Our cover is fake. The kiss…wasn’t.

“I suggest you do that as much as you can while you’re staying here,” Gabrielle continues, unaware of my inner turmoil. “The more you kiss like that, the more it becomes part of your daily life. Never go a day without giving your partner that special soul-stirring kiss. Your marriage will thank you for it.”

The rest of the group nods at her words of wisdom.

“I doubt that was the problem with my parents’ marriage,” Isabelle says under her breath. “My father couldn’t keep it in his pants when it came to other women.”

For a second, my heart pinches at her words, having experienced firsthand the pain of infidelity. Although in her case, because she was so young at the time, it clouded her view of marriage. She doesn’t believe in happy marriages. They’re a temporary farce, easily broken by the careless actions of one selfish partner.

“Our next activity should get things going. Men, I want you to sit in your chair. Demek, Anthony, you can decide which one of you will sit on it. Ladies, you’re going to give your partner a lap dance.”

Christ. Shoot. Me. Now.

None of the other couples look uncertain about our next exercise. Even Caroline and her husband appear excited.

Blake’s and Virginia’s reactions don’t come as a surprise. They’re probably wondering if Gabrielle would care to toss in some handcuffs and whips while she’s at it.

“Well, this should be interesting.” Isabelle’s gaze avoids mine. She’s too busy looking at everything else around us.

I almost expect her to be out the door before I can sit.

With a Christ-this-is-going-to-be-a-disaster sigh, I sit on our chair, which faces outward—as they all do—so the men can’t see each other or the other wives. That way if things go hard south of the border, no one else will witness it, other than our spouses.

Upbeat dance music pipes through the speakers in the ceiling.

“Okay,” Gabrielle says, “I want you to straddle your man’s legs and show him your moves.”

I might’ve had a better chance if Isabelle wasn’t in her bikini. But I’ll give her this…she’s doing a good job when it comes to her cover. If I didn’t know better, she’d have me convinced we’re happily married.

Does that mean I’m going to tell Liam that I believe she has what it takes to be an operative with the team? Hell, no.

“I’m dying to know how this will help us figure out if something illegal is going on at the resort,” Isabelle murmurs in my ear.

I can only shrug. “Keep your eyes open. It could be that more than one person is involved—if there is something illegal going on—and we aren’t the only fake couple here.”

“So basically, hope they aren’t very good actors when it comes to this stuff?”

“Yeah, pretty much that.”

Isabelle slowly gyrates her hips, barely touching me—and my cock comes to life. I try repeating the Navy SEAL oath in my head…backward.

That doesn’t work. Mostly because her hips are making it too difficult to concentrate. At this point, I’ll be lucky if I even remember the oath forward.

With her hips still moving and her gaze focused on whatever is going on behind me, Isabelle places her hands on my shoulders. “How am I doing?”

Fortunately for both of us, her sensitive parts don’t come in contact with my hard length.

Shit. Spoke too soon.

Isabelle’s hips stop moving, and her eyes dart from whatever held them captive down to mine. Her eyes darken, and her gaze drops to my lips…and continue farther south.

“Oh.” Her eyes return to mine, and the tip of her perfect tongue trails along her lower lip once more.

And that’s all I can take before I forget myself.

I cradle the back of her head with one hand and draw her mouth to mine. And then we’re kissing like we were a few minutes ago. Damn, I hadn’t realized how much I already missed that.