Hot SEAL, Cold Water (SEALs in Paradise) by Cat Johnson

Author:Cat Johnson [Johnson, Cat]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Atticus LLC.
Published: 2021-05-20T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 4

Joanne

I’ll freely admit that I’m addicted to coffee. And I was fine with that. But the realization that after only three nights spent in Jacob’s bed had caused me to be addicted to the man did not sit well with me. Not at all.

How did I know I was addicted? Because after being away from him for just a few days, I felt his absence. Felt it to my core. And not just between my legs either. I missed seeing him at the end of a long workday. Missed the release—the escape—he provided. Our time together gave me what I hadn’t realized was missing in my workaholic life.

I should have never gone back that second night. Or the third. I definitely shouldn’t have spent the whole night with him every damn time. And I really, really shouldn’t have let him cook me breakfast that second morning.

That act felt even more intimate than all we’d done in bed. And in the pool . . . and in the hot tub. We attempted it in the sauna and almost died from the heat.

But it all paled compared to the time we did it in the screening room while my favorite guilty pleasure played on the giant screen.

Why had I told him I loved Outlander?

Sitting on Jacob, naked, in that big leather recliner, and letting him make me come while I watched a larger-than-life Jamie make love to Claire was completely over the top—and hot as hell. I’d loved every second of it and felt my cheeks burn every time I thought of it.

This was bad. Very, very bad. But I’d obviously brought it all on myself.

I couldn’t fall for Jacob. I barely knew him. Not that that mattered. I’d known my ex-fiancé plenty well after a decade and he’d dumped me out of the blue.

I’d never recover fully from that betrayal. The scars had hardened my heart, I’d thought to the point I’d never be tempted to let another man in.

But I was tempted by Jacob.

Shit.

I should go home and take out that engagement ring and look at it good and hard. It was the reminder I needed to reinforce what I knew but was in danger of forgetting. I couldn’t trust men. I couldn’t trust love.

Yet here I was, turning into Jacob’s driveway rather than the beach house where we were filming what I hoped would be my company’s next hit reality show.

After being away from set for days putting out fires in the main office in Burbank, I should head directly to the beach house and check in with Maria.

I chastised myself—for so many reasons—for not doing exactly that as I rang the bell at the gate of the house next door. For the first time the gate was actually closed, which seemed strange since it had always been open before.

“Hello?” An older man’s voice responded to my buzz, which threw me completely.

“Um, hi. I was looking for Jacob—” I stopped when I realized I’d never learned his last name.

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