Accidental SEAL (SEAL Brotherhood #1) (40 page)

She lowered herself on his legs and licked the length of his shaft. She sucked hard, and then licked the long length of him. Was this round three or four?

Did it matter?

He lay there and enjoyed her wanting to pleasure him. After only a few minutes, he was hard as a rock and about to come in her mouth as she moved up and down his length. He loved watching her mouth work him over. She flashed her big brown eyes up at him.

Ah, delicious.
She was a wonder, all right. Long curls falling all over his thighs, those honest eyes that begged him to fuck her. Well, he’d deliver on that request as many times as she asked it of him. Happy to oblige, in fact.

She mounted him, slowly settling down on his cock, and was arching backward, holding her breasts, tweaking her nipples. Her eyes flashed open when he raised his pelvis up, placing a couple of pillows under his butt. It gave her a higher mount so she could ride him. And ride him she did.

He pushed himself deep inside her and she quivered, moaned. She held her hair up with her hands, letting it fall partially over her eyes as she looked at him. She turned in profile. He followed the line of her perfect torso and filled his hands with soft pillows of flesh. She licked her lips slowly and he lost it. Next thing he knew he was shooting inside her like a seventeen-year-old.

The woman was going to wear him out.

And he was going to love every minute of it.

Christy lay next to Kyle. Both stared at the ceiling. She was enjoying the sounds of his heavy breathing. He laced his fingers through hers and kissed her hand.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

Christy hadn’t thought about it until just then, but she was. “Famished. Let’s go walk some place close by.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” He turned his head. She felt his stare on the side of her face. He raised himself up on one arm, outlining her nipples with a forefinger. He kissed her first on one side, and then the other. She couldn’t escape those blue eyes softly bearing down on hers. “Christy, I’m thinking about leaving the Navy when my time is up this fall.”

“Why?” His statement surprised her.

“Maybe it’s time to grow up. I’ve been blowing things up, snatching and grabbing bad guys. Playing with really cool gear for ten years now. Can’t do that forever.” He was watching her reaction.

“But it’s who you are, Kyle. Don’t you love what you do?”

“Absolutely.” He lay back on the bed and sighed. They lay in silence, Kyle’s warm thigh against hers, like they’d been doing this for years. Like it was a routine, the talking and then the love making, and then the talking and then…it felt like life as it was supposed to be.

“Don’t do it for me,” she said finally. “I don’t want to be the one responsible for taking you away from something that means so much. I love you for who you are. And who you are, right now at least, is a SEAL. You were born to be one. I want you to do what you love. And I’ll be here when you come home.”

She turned her head and saw he’d been watching her. Something deep in his eyes held her. It was devotion. She’d never seen anyone look at her that way before.

“If it wasn’t for me, what would you do?” she asked.

“I’d stay in.”

“Then that’s what you should—no, that’s what I
want
you to do.”

They walked through the shops at Ferry Plaza, tasting wine, olive oil, and homemade chocolates along the way. Her feet were cold in the flip-flops he’d bought her in the lobby shop. Christy wanted to go to the oyster bar overlooking the Marin Ferry. They stayed inside and watched the twinkle of lights from the Bay Bridge reflected in the choppy waters of the bay. She ordered a plate with three local varieties of oysters. They came smothered in garlic and simmering in butter.

Fog was beginning to roll in on the bay, covering the tips of the bridge arching high overhead, but the pier was still clear, and would be for another hour.

“Oysters are supposed to help your stamina,” Christy said.

“You find something wrong with my stamina?” Kyle asked. He had butter and a piece of garlic stuck to his upper lip. She kissed it off.

“No. Not at all,” she laughed. “I think perhaps
I
need it.”

He curled his forefinger, motioning her to lean closer to him. “You are perfect just the way you are.” He kissed her.

Christy glowed inside. The man could charm the pants off a…an oyster.

“So you like oysters?” she continued.

“I like eating anything around you. Everything tastes great.”

With his fingers, he placed a stray lock of hair behind her left ear, then held up her chin for another long kiss. His palm slid down her arm, over the fabric of her oversized San Francisco souvenir sweatshirt that matched his.

“And everything is good around you,” he said in a raspy, dead-sexy bedroom voice.

She turned her stool and let his knee hit her pubic bone. She locked him there. “You know what I’m thinking?” she asked.

“I’m afraid to ask.”

“Well, you’ve had your fortification. So, how many more times can we do it before midnight?”

“I should be good for one or two…but first I wanna have a little talk with you.”

His face got serious. Christy held her breath. Every time there was a “serious” talk before, it had been bad news. Now what? Had their earlier discussion set off a chain of events that was now going to hurt?

Kyle fished something out of his San Francisco sweatshirt pocket.

He got down on one knee, and in front of the whole group of oyster-loving, beer drinking customers, held her left hand and said, “Christy Nelson. Would you marry me?”

Did he just ask me to marry him? She hadn’t allowed herself to long for a proposal of marriage. She’d been planning on enjoying what was to come as long as he was there by her side.

“Absolutely,” she answered. She couldn’t believe it.

He put the ring on her finger.

The crowd took note of the proposal and burst into spontaneous clapping.

She looked at the costume jewelry ring he must have purchased at the hotel. It was the most beautiful stone she had ever seen, and it mattered not one whit that it wasn’t real.

Her man was.

The End

Come follow along the SEAL Brotherhood journey with Book 2, coming out late 2012,
Fallen SEAL Legacy
. It’s Coop’s story.

Excerpt from
Fallen SEAL Legacy
:

Chapter 1

A tornado licked the Nebraska landscape with deadly force, tasting contents of houses and farms, furrowing down fence posts and over pencil-thin crop rows like a tongue from Hell. It seemed to like the flavor of metal and sheetrock as well as the tender green stalks of corn, sunflowers and soybeans. Human and animal body parts spewed out to the sides, detritus from a bored gourmand.

Sirens wailed in the distance. The steamy ground hissed in response.

Calvin “Coop” Cooper awoke and smelled cherries mixed with crisp morning sea air. He heard running water and then felt the steam, which had filled the bedroom.

Daisy
.
In the shower. Slippery and soapy all over.

She’d spent the night in his motorhome by the beach, and what a night it had been.  His other SEAL team buddies called it the
Babemobile
. They could call it anything they like, he thought. Coop was saving a ton of money by pocketing his housing allowance.

Coop scratched above his forehead. The sparse light brown fuzz he called hair made his fingers sticky. And smelling of cherries.

That would be the gel she used on me last night. The gel I used on her, all over.

Daisy did have a job to get up for, and God, yes, no wonder she needed a shower.

Coop rolled over and placed his palms behind his head, disentangling the sweaty sheet from his long six-foot-seven-inch-frame. It had been a wonderful Coronado Island night. Daisy was the best pleasure partner a guy could want. Totally willing. Totally hot. Everyone else wanted to bang her, too. But she, temporarily at least, had secretly chosen Coop to share her bed. Or rather, his bed. Daisy never brought anyone to her place.

She was the one all his SEAL Team III buddies hired to do their tattoos. It was odd, with all the places they’d been sent, all the injuries they’d incurred, his buddies would only let one tattoo artist touch their flesh. Daisy was the best. In many ways.

Coop rubbed his groin, which was getting interested in chasing down the trail of thoughts his brain wandered through.

Down boy.

He usually parked his motor home at the beach, but tonight he’d parked in the vacant lot at Costco so they wouldn’t have any visitors. No sense having a sweet young thing calling on his door, thinking he was available, and him being kinda busy. Daisy had followed him there so he wouldn’t need to take her home. She was a very practical girl.

“Hey baby,” Daisy said as she paraded in front of him, sizing up his exposed torso. “We had some fun last night, didn’t we?” She put two fingers in her pink-lipped mouth. Those lips would leave a ring all right. Her makeup was done, and she was wearing one of those kid’s T-shirts that showed off the frog tattoo around her belly button pierced with a gold ring glinting in the morning sun. Her shorts were so short, if Coop slipped a hand up her backside, he’d be in clover before he got three inches in.

“You smell good.”
You taste good too.
Cherry wasn’t his favorite flavor. He liked the way she tasted all by her little lonesome, he thought as he scanned her many alluring attributes. And he told her that one time just before she exploded in an orgasm in his arms. Telling her things like that worked real well on Daisy. Like some of the girls in high school he could read scriptures to, especially the Love Chapter from Psalms. Make them hot as hell, and so willing to show it.

Her knees sunk onto the bed and crawled her way up to straddle him. “I’m gonna be late for work if you aren’t quick.”

By the time he gave his assent, she had already removed her T-shirt and 38 DDD bra.

After Daisy left, Coop had to wait for the water to warm up again after her second shower, so he sat in his boxers at the nook, chowing down on granola and whole milk. He checked between the metal blinds in the window and watched a couple of early Costco employees arrive. That also meant it was time for him to leave.

His cell phone chirped.

“Coop here.” He recognized the number belonging to his Chief, Petty Officer Timmons.

“Mornin’ Coop. Say, mind if we have a word this morning?”

“Sure. When do you need me in by?”

“How soon can you get here?”

Something was up, and it wasn’t good. “Can you tell me a little about it?” Coop asked.

“No, mister. I gotta do this eyeball to eyeball.”

Coop hesitated a bit before answering. Timmons hadn’t said it involved anyone else, so this wasn’t a Team thing. Had someone complained about him parking the Babemobile at the beach? Some jerk off do-gooder ranger exerting himself on the community they loved to bust for littering and public drinking?
Only because the girls would rather hang out with me than some overweight guy with a green gabardine scout leader uniform and a chronic case of sunburn.

“I can be there in a half hour, unless there’s a jam-up on the highway.”

“See you then, son.”

Son?
When his Chief called him son, it usually meant he was in trouble.
 Coop felt dark fingers dig into his spine at the back of his neck. Something wasn’t right.

He skipped the shower, anxious to find out what Timmons wanted. He doubted his Chief would notice Daisy’s smell or the trace of cherry lube gel instead of his usual Irish Spring.  If he ran into his Team leader, Kyle Lansdowne, he’d get ordered to get wet and sandy. Old married man Kyle, with a baby now, was a real hard-ass these days. But a damn good SEAL, and the best Team leader a guy could have.

He climbed over the bench seat at the nook, planting his long legs just beyond the driver’s seat of the beast and started her up.  A regular fortress, Coop had installed a secret weapons compartment, a sophisticated GPS unit, a satellite tracking system with infrared, and a sound system worthy of a rock star. He’d rather spend his money on toys than housing, so he spent the majority of his paycheck on special parts and upgrades for gadgets he was constantly tinkering with.

He opted for the
Gone Country
satellite channel, donned his sunglasses and departed for the check-in with his Chief.

Coop rounded the corner to the Special Warfare base at Coronado, stopped at the guard shack and addressed the flunky on duty. A new one. Navy Regular. Clean cut. Cooper was thinking he might luck out and get on base without a wisecrack since the guy was new, but had no such luck.

“Well if it isn’t the stud of Coronado and his limp dick pleasure palace.”

Coop studied the new man’s nametag,
Dorian Hamburg.
He and his Team guys could have fun with that name. And the look on the man’s face told him he had a hair trigger. That was always fun. So the other regulars had told him about his motorhome. No problem. If the guy wanted to spar, Coop would spar with him, and make him pay for it.