Page 12 of Triton

But my future could involve a hot one-night stand with this SEAL, so I was going to force myself to roll withit.

Isa grabbed the microphone. “Welcome Mermaids and Merman.”

Erik waved, and my core ached. God, the things I wanted this man to do to me caused a shiver to course through mybody.

“I’m thrilled to introduce you all today to our special celebrity mermaid, Olympic Gold Medalist Aria Clements!”

The ladies applauded, and Erik let out a whistle. I wanted to drown from embarrassment.

Isa continued. “We’re going to have so much fun today. This is a great workout, and you get to live out your fantasy of being a mermaid. So everyone get in the pool and do a couple of laps so you can get used to your tail. Take your pool noodle and place it under your arms to stay afloat.”

We dove in. Most of the ladies did some version of a leisurely breast stroke without the legs but not Erik. He didn’t bother with the noodle and darted off like a missile. With a single push, he glided across the pool. The competitor in me darted to his side, determined to beat him. I charged ahead, kicking my legs in a butterfly motion and met him at the edge. Before he could touch the side of the pool, I gracefully did a somersault and sped down the other side, leaving him in mywave.

Clearly unable to back down, Erik caught up, his big, powerful arms slamming into the water, splashingme.

My heart stuttered in my chest as our eyes met and held. The moment was so hot, so electrifying, so intimate.

But our moment was interrupted by a bright flash. A staff photographer had taken a picture ofus.

I turned my attention back to Erik. Water glistened on his tan chest. He was hot and wet and wearing nothing but a tight tail. I wanted him to pin me against the side of the pool and nail my fins to the wall. Have mercy.

Instead, I gave him a high five. “Good job, merman.”

He smirked. “Babe, I prefer the term Triton.”

Of course. Triton. A Navy SEAL. The trident was their insignia.

I met Isa back in the center of the pool, and we instructed the guests on arm exercises and core work. I blasted the music and tried to lose myself in the workout and not focus on Erik’s intense glare.

“Okay. For the last fifteen minutes, we’re going to just swim. Have fun with it,” I shouted. Some ladies did handstands, some did body waves, but Erik torpedoed around the pool. After a few minutes, he flipped on his back and executed a perfect backstroke. His hands sliced through the water like blades as the sunlight highlighted his sculpted chest.

Isa swam up beside me. “Damn, you don’t have a chance.”

And she was right. I didn’t have a chance of resisting this Triton.