“Did you swim as a teenager?”
“Sure. I was as rambunctious as any other kid. Bezakistan gets too hot in the summer to play outside much, and I didn’t like being trapped indoors all day. My aunt and uncles took us to the shore at least once a year, so swimming was a necessity.”
“But you don’t swim now?”
Alea got on her knees in front of him and opened the little kit. With an air of “whatever,” she started digging out the instruments of his torture—little cotton balls and packs of antiseptic. “Not much anymore.”
“It’s good exercise, and you’re right about the summers in Bezakistan. So why did you stop?” Cooper asked.
“I don’t know.” She seemed to want to look everywhere except at him. She focused intently on dabbing the cleaner on a cotton ball.
“When exactly did you stop?” Dane asked in that deep voice, his Dom voice. Cooper knew his buddy meant business. “No lying.”
Alea shrugged. “A couple of years ago. Hold still.”
She pressed the cotton ball to his cut, and he nearly came out of his seat. Damn it, that burned. He cursed, and Alea’s lips turned up.
“Really, you big baby?” she mocked. “You’re a SEAL?”
Yeah, he got that a lot. He touched the tat on his left arm. It was a SEAL tattoo of an eagle clutching a rifle, anchor, and trident. “I even have the tat, baby. But I’m out of the Navy now. I don’t have to suck it up anymore.”
Dane huffed. “You didn’t suck it up then. I was with you in Kandahar. You took one measly knife to the gut and whined about it for hours.”
Alea gasped. “Someone stabbed you in the stomach?”
He pointed to the nice little scar on his right side. “Yep. And I was very heroic. I saved three kids and stitched up some soldiers before I finally lost consciousness in a very manly fashion.”
“He face-planted on the street,” Dane clarified, then turned his attention back to Alea. “So you stopped swimming after the abduction. Why? The warm water and solitude should have been relaxing. Did you quit so you could avoid bathing suits and hide your body?”
Crap! Cooper bit back a protest. He’d just gotten Alea to strip down to her skivvies and he’d been trying to make her nice and comfortable. Did Dane really have to push her now?
She paused, hesitated, then very cautiously continued to clean his wound. “I suppose so.”
“Why?” Dane’s voice was softer as though she’d pleased him by answering. “Baby, whatever they told you, they were lying.”
Had the f**kwads who’d taken her told her she wasn’t pretty? He reached up and caressed her hair, pushing one side away from her face. It had dried into sexy waves, rather than that stick-straight mane she unmercifully flat ironed every day. “Unless they said you’re the most beautiful woman on the planet, they were lying. Lea, baby, they would have said anything to break you.”
She took a long breath, studying her handiwork on the side of his face, seemingly happy. Then she started looking through the kit again. “They might be liars, but I’ve always had issues with my weight.”
“What issues?” Cooper asked, truly astounded at the thought. “Is it hard to be perfect?”
She snorted slightly. “Yes, it’s so difficult.”
“Alea, I would seriously consider what you say about yourself in the next few minutes,” Dane warned. “I’m willing to listen to concerns, but don’t degrade yourself.”
Her hands balled into fists on her lap. “I’m not a size two. God, Dane, I’m not even a size eight. It wasn’t just my captors. The press hasn’t always been kind.”
Cooper had no idea what dress sizes meant. “Uh, if those are smaller than you, then I’m glad because I want a woman with curves. I want a woman who looks like a woman. Ask most guys. They do, too.”
“Lea, you should damn well know that most women modeling in magazines are far too thin. They might photograph well, but it’s actually unhealthy,” Dane said. “Who idolizes models? Do you think it’s men? No, baby. Mostly women. Porn is a better example of what men like. Those women have hips and boobs.”
Cooper sniffed with disdain. “I only watch the amateur stuff now because the pros have gotten too thin. And I like real boobs.” Alea had real boobs. They were encased in a sturdy bra, but they were totally getting his attention. Soft and round. They would be a sweet handful. And last night, with her distraught…and then his mouth on her pu**y, he hadn’t really gotten a good look at her ass. But what he’d seen in the past always looked so damn good. “Not to mention a juicy ass. Love that.”
“Juicy is good,” Dane agreed.
Alea squirted ointment onto her finger and quickly wiped it across his cut. “You don’t have to try to make me feel better. Growing up, I always wanted to look more like Yasmin. Taller. More graceful…”
Dane made gagging noises.