Bound & SEAL'D: A Bad Boy Navy SEAL Romance (6 page)

I
’m just browsing
the selection,
I told myself. It’s not much different from shopping for new clothes or finding that perfect necklace, one that matches your dress
and
your shoes. That’s why I’m here at my sister’s bar alone. I’m just browsing.

Deep down, I know I’m not that kind of girl. I don’t go to bars alone to browse or to talk with men. I stay at home and write. I think of how my piece will need to sound or about how I need to change the motive of the story. I sure as hell don’t fall for men. Even Elijah, as good as it was in the beginning, was just superfluous junk.

Then why am I here? The other night got to me. Thinking about him, pressed below me, head tucked under my dress and tongue inside me, got me feeling crazy. Like, totally insane, teenage-crush type crazy. I’m sitting at the bar, drinking a plain gin and tonic, staring at the door. I’m waiting to see those dog tags and that wide, muscular chest push through the door. Hoping, really.

And when he finally does, I nearly fall off my chair. I look away and my hair falls in my eye, effectively shielding my vision from him. “Two whisky sodas,” he says. The bartender pours two drinks and hands them to him. He slides on of them across the bar toward me and I feel my heart nearly pound out of my chest.

“What’s your name, doll?” he asks. He’s dressed in a tight, heather grey shirt and it’s wrapped tightly around his biceps and abs. I glance at them and feel my skin prickle as my inner thighs grow warm.

I swallow hard and decide to play along. “I’m Lexi,” I say, smiling. This is so cheesy, I can barely contain my laughter. Instead, my eyes trail down to the hard bulge in his jeans. I gulp loudly and feel my cheeks grow red.

“Lexi. I’m Jordan. What’s a beautiful woman like you doing in a shit-hole bar like this?” He scoots closer to me. The bartender, pissed someone would call The Cat’s Bag a shit-hole, shakes his head and cleans a glass.

I’m wearing a black skirt with matching garter belt I bought years ago from Victoria’s Secret. Elijah never once complimented me on it, but it made me feel sexy and that’s all that matters.

I smile and bite my bottom lip. “My husband’s on duty. He’s a cop,” I say. “He’s been… well, he’s been neglecting me lately. I thought I’d get out of the house for a while and relax.” I uncross my legs. I can’t believe I’m even doing this right now. My heart is hammering.

“He doesn’t like it when you leave the house. Does he? He wants you locked up. He’s possessive, isn’t he?” His muscles are calling to me, practically begging me to touch them. I turn to my drink and take another sip, feeling the whisky burn my throat.

“He’s not possessive enough,” I say.

“You like it when men are possessive?” he asks, eyes on my tits. I’m wearing a low-cut, white top and I know he can barely resist looking at it.

“I like it when men take control,” I correct him. “Do you like to take control, Jordan?” I click my tongue against the roof of my mouth and watch as endorphins flood his body. He needs me. I know it. I wonder how hard he is right now. I’m wondering how much he wants to whip his hard cock out of his pants and take me against the pool table. Just the thought of him doing that gets me wet.

The whole time he’s staring, I know I should just pay my tab and head home. I know it’s not a good idea to mess around with a SEAL. They’re practically trained killers, for Christ’s sake. But then I hear Julie’s voice in my head saying “Don’t be such a square, Lena.” And I can’t help but feel like she’s right. All my life I’ve made my own choices, mostly at the expense of myself. I’ve always been the responsible one. So, for now, I want to try being irresponsible. I want to have some fun.

“What else do you like?” he asks me. I quickly realize that this little game of ours has gone one step forward.

“Don’t you want to find out?” I ask him, feeling my legs start to prickle with goose bumps. The excitement wells up inside of me. That body of his,
my god
. The way he held onto my hips on the hill the other night. Fuck it, the way he ate my pussy and stroked his cock until he burst. It was so fucking dirty. It was so
wrong
!

“I think I
need
to find out.” He smiles at me and looks down at my skirt.

“Do you like my skirt?” I ask as his eyes stop.

He doesn’t even hesitate. He knows exactly what he wants and if I let him, he’s going take every bit of it. That’s how hungry he is. “Go ahead,” I say, “Touch the fabric. It’s Italian fibers.” I have no idea if that’s true or if Italian fibers are still some of the best in the world, but I can tell the invitation turns him on.

He reaches out slowly and places his hand on the upper part of my thigh, right where my skirt hits my patterned pantyhose. “It’s so soft,” he moans. The word
soft
sends shivers down my spine and I bet it makes him ache. I imagine just how hard his cock really is right now. I couldn’t get a glimpse in the darkness the other night. How would it feel as it slid past my soft lips?

Don’t you stop talking. Don’t you dare stop talking!
My thoughts are too fast for me to keep up with. “Don’t you want to know what I like?” he asks me, feeling up the top of my skirt.

“I don’t give a shit what you like.” I gulp. My body is near shivering. Of course I give a shit what he likes. It’s all I’m wondering right now. I just want him to say the right words. I want him to know what pushes my buttons.

That’s when he says exactly what I want to hear: “Then I’ll have to show you what I like.” He grabs my hand roughly and pulls me past the pool tables and old pinball machines. In the back, there’s a door that reads “Employees Only.” A row of booths and tables is placed right next to the door and a few bar patrons look up as he hurriedly opens the door and pushes me in.

He closes the door and suddenly, we’re in a small, dark room. The sound of our breathing falls loud and flat and outside are the noises from the bar. “I’m going to show you what I like,” he says.

“Do I really want to know? I just met you.” I say with enough fear in my voice to make it actually believable. Of course I want to know. I want to know every bit of what he likes. I want him to show me, to take me to his world and ravage me.

“No more games,” he says. “I’m going to make you quiver.” It’s dark and I can’t see a thing, but he guides my hand down until it touches his meaty cock, and I don’t have to use my eyes to feel just how huge he really is.

“No more games…” I whisper back. Within a split second, he has me pinned against the wall and I can feel the vibration from the jukebox outside.

He smells so fucking good, like vintage whisky, wood, and cologne I’ve never smelled before. His scent is everything a man should carry, but most hardly ever do. When I breathe him in, I’m dizzy with excitement and total lust.

I feel his lips hovering over mine and I breathe out lightly, waiting for him to kiss me. But he pulls back instead, teasing me. Instead, he kisses at the curve of my neck, sucking lightly. He scrapes his teeth on my shoulder and pulls down my shirt. He cups my tits as they fall out and I’m against the wall, totally his.

He kisses my cheek and unbuttons my skirt. “I want you naked and pure,” he whispers. His cock is in my hand and I’m stroking it slow and light. Finally, he takes off my clothes and runs his hand across the pattern of my garter.

“Spit on it,” he says. “Spit all over it.”

I can only see his eyes and they’re as dark as night. Everything is telling me to leave, yet my body is saying,
stay here. Stay here forever.

“But there are people right outside,” I protest.

“Good. Let them hear us,” I can just barely see his smile, the white gleam of his teeth, as he spits down on his hand and rubs it against his shaft. “Your turn.”

I’m so fucking turned on. I rip off my garter and drip my spit all over his cock, until I feel it grow to an even bigger size. He’s massive. Like, way too big for me. I start to shake when he trails his hand down to the small of my back, all the way to the bottom of my ass. With two fingers, he opens me up and starts massaging me in a circular motion.

My high-pitched breath envelops the room and I begin stroking his cock faster now. He pushes forward, lightly thrusting into my hand, as his lips finally meet mine. He whispers “You’re wet.”

His right hand is on my cunt, and he’s moving my wetness over my clit. I can barely hang on. Never in my life have I had a man like this before. I’ve always been so conventional. Now I’m in a fucking bar closet, stroking some stranger’s cock. Okay, he’s not exactly a stranger. But I don’t know much about him.

“Stop,” I say. “I’m going to cum already. Stop.” I’m moaning, practically purring against him. His lips press hard against mine, sucking back lightly as our tongues twist and turn against one another.

“Good. I want to make you cum over and over again. There’s nothing I want more from you,” he moans, and it’s possibly the hottest thing a man has ever said to me.

He inserts his ring and middle finger inside of me and curls his thumb against my clit. He hits it, my button, and puts all his pressure against it. He circles his thumb and sucks on my tongue, making the small hairs on the back of my neck shoot up with electricity. My ass prickles with goose bumps.

I nearly fall forward when it hits me. His tongue is deep in my mouth, but he pulls back and bites my lip. “Cum.” He moans deep and runs his hands through my hair, pulling lightly.

“Do it for me,” he says. I’m stroking his cock fast now, but I have to slow down as I reach a precipice. Something
clicks
and it’s like every muscle inside of me starts to spasm, stopping me short of existing.

“Yes,” I’m moaning. “I’m cumming.” I can barely get out the words. My eyes grow hazy and my mouth opens wide, sucking in air. Colt falls to his knees and laps at me, sucking on my clit and fingering against my g-spot. He knows exactly how to please me, what makes me tick. Within seconds, I am falling against his face and gyrating on his tongue. “Yes!” I scream. I don’t care who can hear me now. I’ve found the entrance to the kingdom of heaven and it’s through Colt’s mouth.

He’s stroking his cock wildly now and he’s not letting up on me. I slowly fall down the wall and feel my ass hit the cold cement floor. Colt follows me down, my pussy still in his mouth and his back muscles shine against a sliver of slight from a crack in the door. “Cum for me,” I whisper between rapid breaths.

He lifts his head from my core and strokes his growing cock. I can tell he’s about to explode by the way he’s looking at me. He’s glancing wildly over every part of my body, trying to experience it all before he comes. He can barely see me, but that’s part of the excitement.

It’s coming. I can sense it. He makes a groan, almost like he’s trying to shake off something big, and he lifts his cock against my lips. “I’m fucking cumming, baby,” he moans loudly. “Oh, fuck!”

He shoots his load on my pussy lips, pelvis, and my navel. It comes out in pumps, and he groans like an animal. I look down and my whole lower half is covered. He dips his finger and wipes the cum away and says with that deep voice of his “Lick it clean.”

I don’t say a word, but I open my mouth wide and taste him. My lips wrap around his fingers and they slide out clean. I swallow and hear him say “I want to feast on you.”

He’s back on all fours, lifting my legs around his face. And he’s licking and sucking with more veracity than ever. “Holy shit!” I moan, trying not to cum so fast. It’s nearly impossible with his three fingers inside me, and his tongue massaging against my clit.

“I can taste us both,” he moans. Just as the words come out, I feel my legs tremble against him. He runs his free hand up my thigh and to my breast, rubbing around my nipple lightly. “I want to taste more of you.” His mouth is full of me and I can’t take it any longer. There’s a pressure inside of me that won’t let up. It’s like a wall and it’s surely about to break.

The pressure pulses against my clit and he swipes his tongue against it and sucks, releases, and then does it again. I grow numb and then everything explodes. I’m writhing against him and the floor, throwing my head back. I’m holding onto a metal table in the corner and cleaning supplies fall all around us. I’m cumming way too hard and much too fast to care about any of it.

I fall back against the cold cement, floating in pure ecstasy, and he wipes himself clean and puts on his clothing. “Thanks, darling,” he says. I can hear the jingle of his dog-tags as he fumbles his shirt back on. “You should call me sometime. We can go on that date we talked about.” He gives me a ripped piece of paper with his number and address on it. He opens the door slightly and leaves me, shaking and glistening. My hair is a wreck and I probably look like an insane person now.

Did he really just leave me here? I can barely get a grasp on what just happened. I can’t tell if I’m pissed at him or thankful. That was probably the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me. The way he demands what he wants. The way he serves me…

I gather my things and put on my clothes, stuffing my lingerie in my bag. When I exit the room, no one seems to notice,
thank God
, and I quickly walk out of the bar. I look at the paper he gave me and examine the street he lives on: “Sugar Pine Ave.” Well, it’s not really a street at all. It’s far in the woods. I didn’t think anyone lived out there.

I shrug and take a deep breath.
Who are you, Colt?
I call Julie and hear her tired voice. It’s nearly two A.M. “What is it? What’s wrong?” she asks me.

“Nothing’s wrong. Nothing at all.” I burst out laughing. “I’m, uh, going to need a ride. Oh, and better bring a towel and a change of clothes too.”

I
still can't get
the taste of her out of my mouth. Hell, like I'd ever want to. If I could, I'd eat that pussy off a plate seven days a week. The way I left her might have been a little abrupt, but I think I was a good enough host that she'd forgive me.

All day long I lay in bed, fantasizing about her thick legs. They were as smooth as silk, as elegant as marble. Damn, she was a goddess and she didn't even know it. Maybe it was good to leave the woods after all. I couldn't stop smelling my shirt. Her scent lingered like a ghost. I smelled like hibiscus, sex, and coconut. Fragrant and wild.

I kept checking my phone almost every hour. Nothing. Well, Bowen has been texting me the usual memes and funny videos, but I stopped responding hours ago. I guess that's something.

Shit.
What am I doing wasting my time over this woman? It's going to be like the last time. You pour your heart into something only to find it ripped out and thrown in the dirt. She'd see my leg or find out about my past and judge the shit out of me. When the going gets tough, she’ll leave me in a second. I do my best to shake off the thought of her sweet stomach and full tits, and head out to the backyard to get some hiking on. That always did the trick. Nature doesn’t judge like humans do. Instead, it welcomed you with open arms.

I climb the massive hill in my backyard until I get to the top. Sweat pours down my body, my shirt clinging to my chest, and I know I'm only halfway through the trail, but I'm moving quick.

Thoughts move through my mind, through open doors and closed off barracks. Suddenly, I'm back in the sand. The sun beats against my face, adding insult to the 113 degree temperature in the desert. I'm not only getting obliterated by the heat and terrain, I'm also getting fired at by fifty civilians.
God damn.

They don't know why we’re here. All they know is that they've been waiting for a chance to prove themselves to their village. Today is their day to eradicate the western invaders. Here I am, poised with this dilemma. I don't have an ounce of hate for them in my heart. I get it. They're just like me. So when I fire back, it's with a heavy heart. I’m just trying to stay alive.

The look on Bowen’s face is exactly how I feel.
How the fuck can I get out of this alive, without harming anyone?
This is what we were trained for. You'd think it would be easy but it's not. It's the most difficult situation of our lives.

Another SEAL, Loke, is screaming bloody murder. He thinks this is a video game. He's been staring at his television screen since he was a young boy and that was all the training he ever needed. Now, lives are at stake. A woman cries against the wall. Smoke and rubble everywhere. A drone flies overhead and drops a bomb. All goes white.

I'm at the top of the mountain, looking down on the cabin I built for myself. I went from the desert to the woods for a reason. Up here I can find peace. In nature, I can block it all out and just breathe. I sit down and close my eyes, feeling the nice breeze wrap around my face.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, effectively snapping me out of my meditation. I click it open and see a text:

It’s Lena. Can I come over?

A smile breaks out onto my face as I type my response.

You can come for me anytime you want, pretty lady.

I see those three dots pop up, telling me she's typing back. My heart is actually moving faster than normal. My stomach tightens and I feel a certain level of pleasure just from the small fact that she's texting me. What the hell is wrong with me? When did I become such a wuss? Hell, she just makes me feel… Well, she makes me
feel.
She makes me want to get out of the house. Shit, I haven't even fired my guns in over three days. I
am
a wuss. She texts back.

Don't get your hopes up. This pretty lady has selfish motives.

Selfish motives?
What's that mean? Is she breaking it off with me? I mean, I guess we’re not dating or anything. Maybe she met someone. Some artsy fuck or guy with glasses. Chicks love guys with glasses. I type back, a lump in my throat.

Yeah, you're right. I’ll keep my hopes low.

I want to say,
lower than your dripping cunt. Lower than my hard, aching cock, thrusting in between those gorgeous thighs.
Fuck. Just thinking about eating her makes me hard. So much for this nature shit. I'm horny now.

I don’t send that last text. Instead, I delete the words and write something else entirely.

Selfish motives? Sounds hot.

I'm getting in this woman’s pants if it's the last thing I do. She responds.

If an interview sounds hot to you. We can have more than one session if you like.

I laugh and head back down the hill, typing my answer.

Great. Wear something comfortable and hopefully revealing. It helps me relax during the whole interview process.

I lock my phone and head back to the old cabin. I have a date to attend to.

W
hen she walks
up the driveway, she’s wearing a crop-top and those hip, high wasted mom jeans I keep seeing women wear these days. The denim cups perfectly around her tight ass and her cute belly button and smooth stomach are out for me to admire. I can't help myself. I just want to run my tongue against her body, moving lower, lower, even lower.

I'm sitting on my porch, in my old rocking chair, drinking a cold one, and I'm staring hard. She looks good. Damn good.

“Hey there, pretty lady.” I hop up out of my chair and walk up to the front steps of my cabin.

“Quit staring, creep,” she smiles and gives me a hug. I breathe her scent in deep and nearly cum in my boxers. She's smoking hot, with that natural beauty. No makeup or anything extra required.

“You took my advice,” I laugh. “Didn't think you actually would.”

“Advice? Oh, the clothing. You wish. I was already wearing this when I texted you.” She steps onto my porch and looks around. “Nice place.”

“Oh, so you planned to wear this outfit to impress me. Even better.” She frowns at me and turns around to feel the wood of the cabin. “Those jeans make your butt look perfect.”

She blushes and giggles, scrunching her nose, and for the first time I realize she has freckles just around the top of her cheeks. “You're saying my ass doesn't always look perfect?”

I open the door for her and we both walk inside. “Trust me. It's more than perfect, all the time.”

She's glancing up at the vaulted ceiling, the ladder that leads up to the loft upstairs, and the golden wood that lines the whole cabin. Next to her is a massive bookshelf, housing at least 150 books of all kinds. She looks impressed. “You can read?”

I give her an annoyed look and debate whether or not I want to even respond back. “Yes. I can read,” I say.

“I didn't mean that. I just meant that, I haven't met too many guys from the Navy who read that much.” She bites her lip and sits down on the leather chair in the back of the room.

“What do you think I did most of the time in Afghanistan?” I laugh.

She shrugs. “I don't know. Kill people?” I sit down next to her, unsure how to even respond. “Fuck. I'm sorry. I didn't come over to be an asshole. I promise.”

“You are about that, sweetie?” I take one last sip of my beer and set it on the table next to us.

“I'm just…” She sighs loudly and closes her eyes tightly. She’s stressed out, I can tell.

“What's going on? Who do I have to beat up now?” I ask her, laying my hand on her shoulder. I massage her lightly and she moans.

“It's nothing. Well, not
nothing
. It's Elijah. You remember him, right? He won't stop hassling me at work and now I think he's going to be my boss next quarter. Ever since we broke up, he's had it out for me. I mean, I get that we probably can't be friends after that, but at least treat me with some respect.
God.
”

I run my hands through her hair. It's as pure and soft as silk. This calms her down a bit, but now I'm pissed as hell. This Elijah guy won't let up. “He should take a fucking hint,” I say, feeling my chest tighten as I grow even angrier. “Don't worry. I'll have a little chat with the guy.”

She groans and moves my hand away from her. “God. Do
not
be one of those guys. Please, Colt. I don't need any extra drama in my life right now.”

“Alright,” I back off. Maybe she's right. Maybe I'm being controlling. I just wanted to help her out, not piss her off. “He just gives me the creeps is all. I don't want him to hurt you.”

“Thanks. But I don't need your protection. I can handle it. He's just annoying. Anyway, sorry for venting. It's been a rough week, but we should probably start talking about the war.” Her eyes hesitate before she continues and she asks “Is that alright?”

I laugh. “Yeah, it's fine.”

“Can you give a general overview of everything? What exactly was your position?”

I tense up and try to figure out how I'm going to explain this to a girl like her. Would she judge me for who I used to be? I couldn't tell her everything. She wouldn't understand. There was just too much destruction. We all lived out our own chaos, paranoia, and pure fear over there.

“Sniper,” I began. “You ever hear the saying war is hell? Well, that's because it is. There's no reason we should have been over there in that capacity. The bombs did nothing to our advantage,” I say. It's like a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders.

“So you're against the war?” she asks me.

“Not against the war overall. We needed to do something after they attacked us. But do you really think it's a good idea to send 18 year-olds over to kill civilians?” Shit, this was getting heavier than I thought.

“Civilians?” Her eyes widened. I felt the tension in the room increase a hundredfold. Whatever chance I had to spend the night with her had just flown right out the window.

“What'd you think, Lena? That we were fighting enemy soldiers? This isn't like the other wars. To them, we’re invaders. We come in there, take away their government, influence their culture, and bomb their villages. Hell. It was hell. Of course the people are going to fight back. You have young boys, some of them 12 years old even, and they're wielding AK-47s and pledging alliance to their God in heaven. And the worst part is you're ordered to take the fire. If you don't, you can lose everything.”

“You still have a choice,” she says. I can't help but laugh. She's appalled at the words that are spilling out of my mouth. Fuck. I should have lied. I should have dressed it up for her. I should have said
“We fought an enemy dictator and his soldiers. We killed the evil bastards and brought freedom to America. God bless.
Only problem is, I don't believe in fairy tales.

“Trust me. If you don't take the shot, you have every single Navy SEAL on your ass. You get beat, questioned, and after that nobody has your back. If someone has a gun pointed at your face, you want all the help you can get. Anyway, it doesn't matter. I didn't kill any children. Don't you worry. But I'm not going to sit here and lie about what war is.” After I say all this, I look away and stare at the window to the outside world. Peace. I've found my peace here.

“I'm sorry,” she whispers. It's all she can do. There's no magic cure for this kind of thing.

“It's okay. I hold no grudges. It is what it is,” I say. And that's exactly how I feel. It is what it is. It's not exactly an optimistic sentiment, but it's not negative either. It's just how things played out.

“Did you…” she stops herself short.

“It's alright,” I tell her. “You can ask me anything.”

She clears her throat and straightens her back. Finally, she asks “Did you get injured over there? Did you ever get shot?”

I laugh, but I don't feel very light-hearted. Now
I'm
clearing my throat, wondering how the hell I’m going to tell her.
Fuck it
. I decide to just show her. If she's going to ditch me over a prosthetic leg, she wasn't worth shit anyway. I pull up my jeans and say “You tell me.”

Her voice goes quiet. She doesn't know how to respond. Of course, when she does, she says what everyone always says to me. “I'm so sorry, Colt.” Those damn words. Why does everyone give me their apologies? I never asked for them.

“The best carbon fiber the Navy can buy.” I laugh and knock twice on it.

“I'm glad you can have a sense of humor. You know, after all you've seen and experienced. It's refreshing. You know, I think I need to apologize to you,” she says.

“Apologize? What the hell for?”
God, not another apology.

“Yeah. For not taking you seriously before. You're a lot different from the other soldiers I've met. I'm sorry for being such a bitch to you, Colt.”

My hand lands on her thigh, right where it creases against the denim. My finger brushes against her zipper and there I am again, hard and thick. “Is this because I made you cum twice? Bet you didn't think I was
that
good. Did you?”

She burst out laughing, her cheeks turning a rosy red. “Colt!” Her hand falls against mine and then suddenly we grow silent.

“I want you,” I say. “Up against the bookshelf. I want to fuck you until every one of those books has fallen to the floor.”

“But I have to go. I have a deadline,” she weakly protests.

“Bullshit. The only thing you need to be doing right now is arching that back for me. Against the bookshelf. Now,” I tell her.

“Is that an order?” She smiles and clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. That gets my blood flowing.

“You're god damn right it is,” I say. “The whole country is depending on you.” She laughs, and she’s walking toward the bookshelf, unzipping her jeans slowly.

Her ass is swaying from side to side, practically begging me to come forward and grab it. But I sit and watch. I want to be teased.

Her jeans come off slowly. They’re tight around that butt of hers and it’s tough to get the denim off. Finally, I can see her panties and they wrap perfectly around her curves. She kicks off her jeans to the side of the room and turns her head to look at me. She reaches down and pulls her shirt off her beautiful body and I’m already hard and dying for her.