I’m not going to lie I love everything that Julie Ann Walker writes. When I found out she was writing a new series, one set of the coast of Key West and involved treasure hunting I was super stoked. Then she told me they were former SEAL’s. Can it get any better? I don’t think so. Then I read Hell or High Water and OMG I wanted to move to Key West in the hopes of finding a guy like these guys (shh don’t tell my husband I said that) and go treasure hunting. The tension between Leo and Olivia is so freaking awesome. Plus the interactions with the guys. This is a must read book.
Six men. One sunken Spanish galleon. Millions in gold and silver coins lying on the ocean floor. And a past that refuses to let the guys of Deep Six Salvage forget the Navy SEAL motto: the only easy day was yesterday…
There’s more than one kind of treasure…
The nation’s security has always been CIA agent Olivia Mortier’s top priority. But a mission-gone-wrong has begun to make her wonder if there’s more to life than risking hers.
And more than one secret at the bottom of the sea…
Only two things could make Leo Anderson abandon his hunt for the legendary lost ship, La Santa Christina, and return to the world of weapons and warfare he swore to leave behind: a capsule of enriched uranium, lost on the ocean floor, and a plea for assistance from the one woman he can’t seem to forget
“How about you give me a little kiss for luck, though. You know, just in case.”
She bit the inside of her cheek, her eyes taking on a definite sparkle. “That’ll never work,” she said, squeaking when he pulled her close so they were pelvis-to-pelvis, so she could feel what she did to him, know what she did to him. She gasped at the contact, her succulent mouth falling open the tiniest bit. An invitation to put something in there, perhaps?
Most certainly. But that would come later. For now… “Why won’t it work?” he asked, bending to run his nose over her temple, closing his eyes and breathing her in. Salt water and jasmine and…Olivia. His Olivia.
“Because we’re incapable of little kisses,” she told him, her voice going all through him, lighting him up, burning him down. He wanted her to go on talking forever. Just so he could listen. And enjoy. “Our little kisses turn into big kisses. And then our big kisses end up with one of my nipples in your mouth.”
He groaned at the memory. “Exactly,” he murmured, framing her beloved face with his hands and hungrily claiming her lips.
She met him openmouthed, eagerly, her agile tongue darting out to greet his. And then there were no more words. No need for words. They spoke with their bodies, with their hands. With their sighs and their moans of pleasure and encouragement. And just as she’d said, the little kiss turned into a big kiss. Into a long kiss. It went on and on, lips and teeth and tongues mating over and over. It was delicious. Decadent. But he wanted more. So, so much more.
Thankfully, he knew the way to more now, had mapped this part of the journey before, back on the Wayfarer. So he reached around to palm her sweet ass and simultaneously pulled the hem of her tank top over the tops of her breasts. This time he flicked open the back closure of her bra before yanking both cups down. He broke the sanctity of the kiss because he just had to look.
And the sight that met his eyes had his blood roaring through his veins like lit kerosene. Black tank top above. Black bra cups below. And in the middle were two lovely, creamy mounds of feminine flesh. She was perfect. Perfectly edible. From the plump of her cheeks when she smiled to the subtle arch of her back where her waist met her ass. Curves. She was endless, delicate curves. And he was going to feast on all of them.