ROMANCE: Military: SEALED BY APACHE (Military Soldier Navy SEAL Romance) (Alpha Male Billionaire Bad Boy Romance Short Stories) (21 page)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“This is the USS Fearless Frankie.” Storms voice crackles over the radio.

“We are returning from duty with rescued prisoners,” he continues. “We have destroyed the pirate's base, and we are now coming back with the captives,
Gareth
included.”

On the other side, the voice hesitates. “Lieutenant Jakeman. Sir!”

“Yes.” Storm’s voice is mild. “We need to come in to bring these prisoners on board, you copy?”

“Roger! Copy that, Sir.” The voice sings out, crisp.

When the radio contact is over, Storm smiles at the group. His eyes catch Frankie's, and the look that passes between them could light a fire.

Gareth and Rex look at each other. Gareth shrugs, and grins. The four of them look up, steadily; colleagues.

A few minutes later, and the ship is swinging around to get alongside the USS Fearless. It is a careful maneuver, and both ships manage it effortlessly.

The small fishing vessel seems very small indeed, beside the naval ship. After another conversation with the radio operator, the four have negotiated assistance for getting the rescued men on board. They are almost all too weak to climb.

It takes another hour and a half to help all thirty-five men onto the ship, raising them onto the dinghies. Rex, Gareth, Storm and Frankie are last up.

Then they are climbing over the rail, triumphant and grinning.

***

It is later on the same day. The sun is setting, now, over the sea. Frankie, Storm, Rex and Gareth are on deck, in the last of the orange setting sun.

They have met with the captain, where they had first to explain themselves, and then were reprimanded, in appearance only, for their rash, unauthorized rescue. Afterward, the captain grinned with a wink.

“Well done.” He said. He was beaming. “Well done.”

The four of them, elated, left the office. All four are relieved from duty for the day, to decompress.

Now, they stand on the deck, a ration of beer in their hands. Frankie is glowing. Her eyes are fixed on Gareth, while Storm stands beside her, steady and close. Rex is on her left, between her and Gareth.

Gareth has had a shower, and is wearing a uniform a couple sizes smaller, now. With a shave and the dirt washed clean, he looks almost himself. Leaner, drawn; with eyes slightly sunken and lined, her big brother is back and the celebrations just beginning. 

The four of them are wrapped in happiness. Lively laughter and gentle teasing rings out around the group, as they relate their stories and catch up. Saddened for the ordeal the men went through, and knowing it will take time to work through the healing process, today is still one of celebration for their freedom.

Gareth is laughing now, a tear rolling down his bronzed skin as he and Rex share a silly joke. They have made good friends already. Frankie and Storm stand a little apart, his hand on her good shoulder.

Frankie and Gareth catch each-others eye, across the circle. They smile.

“Big brother, you are amazing.” She smiles. “Five hours here, and you are already shaking the foundations of things.”

Gareth lets out a great laugh. “That's a fine thing, coming from you, Little Sister,” he smiles. “Look who just performed a… fearless rescue.”

They are beaming at each other, their warmth affecting the entire group. Frankie feels her eyes start to tear. She feels a hand on her shoulder, and covers it with her own. Storm. She looks up at him, warmed by his presence. He smiles. They kiss.

Gareth and Rex whoop, delightedly.

The whole group laughs.

Frankie and Storm smile at each other, Storm takes Frankie’s hand after some time, they excuse themselves, to Frankie’s cabin.

Opposite them, the sun sets over the sea. Watery, orange-gold. Magnificent. Without boundaries.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Frankie leans her back against the cool door of her cabin, the adrenaline and pain meds have taken a toll on her, draping a warm, fuzzy aura of happiness across her shoulders. Her eyes automatically find Storm, as if they are pulled to him like a lump of iron to a magnet. A ridiculous grin makes its way across her face and Storm chuckles.

“Something funny?” Frankie asks him, arching an eyebrow and swaying a little even though she is leaning against the door. Storm puts on a mock serious face.

“No, Goldilocks,” He folds his lips and bites gently to avoid grinning at her, “It looks as if the ship's rolling underneath you, that's all.” Frankie's smile widens and she pushes away from the door, towards Storm. Unfortunately her legs do not seem to get the message but before her brain can even register her fall, she feels Storm's solid arms around her, supporting her.

“Making a habit of saving me, aren't you?” She asks, wondering if this is what it feels like to be in heaven. It feels to Frankie as if she is completely in control, yet her body won't seem to obey her directions. “Saved Gareth too, with me, you did.” She muddles the words and frowns.

“I need to put you in bed.” He tells her gently, giggling at her delirium.

“Now you're talking. Yes. Take me to bed, her voice has deepened with desire and she looks into his emerald eyes with a lustful gaze. Storm shakes his head.

“Just lay down, Frankie.”

“...take my clothes off first?” He laughs as she tries to undress, while trying to sit down on the bunk and look sexy at the same time. Storm lays his massive hand on her good shoulder and pushes her gently backwards.

“Okay, I'll be good...” Frankie slurs as her eyes droop closed.

After dreaming about some truly odd things, Frankie wakes up feeling almost fully refreshed. A few aches and pains, the shoulder is now a dull thump rather than a sharp lancing stab. The large, male arm which seems to have grown from her side is new but she could live with it if it happened to be attached to...

Frankie rolls over in the circle of warm SEAL flesh to stare at the face of the man she knows she loves. Storm is in a deep sleep and has a tiny smile turning the corners of him mouth up, making her wonder what he is dreaming about. As she moves closer to wake him with a kiss, the realization hits her she is completely naked and her thoughts run back over the events before she fell asleep. Nope, can't remember a thing after they left the little party.

She takes his bottom lip in between hers and nibbles it gently, playfully, repeating with the top. Storm's mouth seems to come alive and she can feel him smiling against her own lips as he starts to kiss her back.

“That's the kind of wake-up call I could get used to.” He states in his deep voice. His chest vibrates against hers where their skin meets and it feels as if they continue throughout her whole body. Frankie shivers even though their combined heat.

Frankie lays her leg over his large thigh and runs her foot up and down his calf, reaching with her good hand to stroke his face as she kisses him again. He deepens the kiss, invading her mouth with his tongue and lapping at hers. Frankie feels a moan escape her as her whole body lights up in response, a deep twist inside her abdomen letting her know the score.

His fingers run down her back, cupping her buttock and stroking along her thigh to her knee before making their way back all the way to the nape of her neck. Goosebumps breaks out across Frankie's chest and belly at his touch and she twitches. Storm's lips find the soft skin behind her ear and he pulls minute kisses, like butterfly wings, from her ear to her jaw.

They become lost in each other, touching, learning what makes the other moan in pleasure when touched or stroked and eventually Storm and Frankie become one again. The feeling is so intense Frankie begins to float on a wave of passion fueled pleasure, the painful ache inside her growing to a height she's not sure she'll be able to live without it, but also not sure if she can take any more. With a groaning roar, Storm tips over the edge and cries her name against her throat. His pleasure sends her over the abyss and her breathing stops as every muscle in her body seems to contract before she explodes in waves of delight around him.

Blissful minutes pass as they share breath and body space, eventually settling into a tight, warm hug which somehow brings them both even closer together.

“You know,” Storm eventually breaks the silence, “I hear Paris is supposed to have some really romantic places?”

“Yeah?” Frankie asks, with fake tone of indifference. Her heart is beginning to ache for some serious alone time this hunk of a man.

“Hmm,” He hums his affirmative, “I don't suppose you'd like to see some of them, would you?” A silly smile breaks out across her face but she manages to keep it from her voice.

“I suppose,” She tells him, “But if I went to Paris, there would have to be comfortable beds.”

“That's lucky, because I've also heard it's the comfy bed capital of the world. Get some good sleep in those Parisian beds.”

“Who said anything about sleeping?” She wonders with a gleam in her eye.

“We must be due some shore leave, especially since you got shot
and
we're heroes.”

“How long to see these sights in Paris, do you think?” Storm pretends to think then shrugs.

“
I
would say around two weeks.” He tells her. Frankie nods and snorts a laugh,

“So a month then?” She asks, grinning at his puzzled expression. “Two weeks to see the sights,” She explains, “And another two weeks to sample these world famous beds.” Storm catches on immediately.

“I like the cut of your jib, lieutenant.” He tells her with a smile.

The End

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TRIGGER

A Navy Seal Erotic Romance

By

Jasmine Jensen

CHAPTER ONE

A cool breeze tousled the few strands of hair which had come out of Tessa's elastic, tickling her neck as she stared into the neighbor's yard.

The cherry tree, which had been there since she was a little girl, filtered the morning sun down on the front lawn – badly in need of a trim – and the rusting hulk of an ancient Chevrolet Impala – badly in need of a tow.

Her next door neighbor's house looked the same as it had since she'd come back, with the exception of the man standing on the front porch.

At least six foot tall, the stranger looked as if he was having some kind of dilemma, his head was down and he looked to be in deep thought. Tessa looked over the hard lines and muscled plains of his body as he waited. Yum. If he's peddling a new religion, I'd be his first convert of the day.

              “Hey Mom?” She called through the newly opened door, “I'm just going next door for a sec.” Tessa's mother came out from the kitchen, drying her hands on a towel,

              “What for, honey?”

              “There's a guy waiting at the door.” Her mother peered out,

              “More vultures trying to get their piece of poor old Victor. Well, if you're going over there, you might as well tell him Victor died three months back.”

              “'Kay.” Tessa said, distractedly as she walked down the front path. Her mother kept the front yard neat and tidy, a row of little flowers graced each side of the pavement and weeds were strictly forbidden. Tessa smiled when she opened the brilliant white gate, set in the picket fence surrounding the garden, knowing it got at least two coats of fresh paint a year. Under no illusion her mother enjoyed the work, Tessa knew she spent as much time out here as she did to keep an eye on the comings and goings of all the neighbors and enjoy a good gossip if someone stopped to chat.

              Approaching the old Hughes place, Tessa saw the man had a long, cylindrical, olive green bag with him and wore what looked like black cargo pants and a white tee which hugged his body so tightly she could see the muscles in his back flexing. She stopped at the gate, which dangled from one hinge like a sorry excuse, and called,

              “Uh hello? Can I help you?” The stranger tipped his head to the side and turned to face her. Tessa's abdomen rolled at the sight of him. She could see a well-defined set of pecs and abs you could grate cheese on but it was his face which captivated her attention as he strode confidently down the path towards her. Strong cheekbones and jawline were perfectly in proportion to his thick neck. He had a strong nose and dark eyebrows with eyes as dark as any she had ever seen. As he approached, she could see they were dark-chocolate brown and had a sparkle which caught the sunlight as he passed under the cherry tree. He wore a self-confident smirk as he ran his eyes up and down her body, an action which made Tessa feel naked.

              “Well, I doubt that, ma'am.” He told her with a slight southern twang,

              “If you're looking for Victor Hughes, I'm afraid he passed away some time back.” Tessa said gently, focusing on those eyes. Close up she could see there were yellow flecks in the dark brown, minute highlights in the darkness.

              “I'm well aware he's dead, ma'am. I'm on leave to sort through the old man's trash and sell the homestead before I get back to base.”

              “Wait,” Tessa said, thinking, “Are...are you Calvin?” His smile widened,

              “I sure am, ma'am. Although I go by Cal now,” He replied, “Now how do you know me? I certainly think I'd remember a fine piece such as yourself.” Tessa's temper flared a little, being referred to as a 'fine piece' didn’t sit well with her. She put her hands on her hips and glared back at his smirk,

              “I'm Tessa. Tessa Williams, from next door?” She pointed up the street to emphasize it. Cal's eyes widened.

              “Little Tessa? Tessa the lessa? Tessa the underachieva?” Long and best forgotten, memories flooded her mind as he called her the names he had given her as a child, making her temper grow even more.

              “Yeah, well you were always inventive with nicknames.” Cal held his hands out,

              “Well, sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it. You know how kids can get and I was in a bad place at the time. I'm a different man now.” He turned to look at the house, “You, ah, you wanna' come on up here and catch up?” Something about him made Tessa swallow her anger and she nodded, following him up towards the house with its peeling paint and cracked windows, staring at his butt. She tore her eyes from his backside, blushing as he turned offering her a seat. He grinned again brushing leaves and dust from the bench before dropping smoothly into a cross-legged position on the floor. Tessa moved past and sat gingerly on the decaying bench. She could smell the musty odor of the house coming through a small hole in the window frame.

              “So, Tessa Williams,” Cal stated, fixing her with those brown eyes, “It must have been at least ten years, what have you been up to?” He tilted his head to one side. Tessa was at a loss for a second, caught like a rabbit in lamplight under his scrutiny. She cleared her throat and tried to think of something to say,

              “Well, I, uh, just finished nursing school,” Cal nodded attentively while glancing at her breasts, “And I thought I'd come back to visit Mom before I start my new job at the Oregon State Hospital in Portland.” Cal laughed, making Tessa frown.

              What's so funny about that?

              “So you did take to nursing after all, huh?” Tessa was confused,

              “Yeah, I just said so, didn’t I? What do you mean?” He looked up at her, with those dark brown eyes, through black lashes as long and thick as a giraffe and Tessa's belly clenched like it had earlier.

              Why do I find him so attractive?

              “You really don't remember?” He asked cryptically, “You always used to try and bandage the cuts and bruises the old man gave me.” Tessa thought for a second. She did remember and then she recalled something else too,

              “Yeah I remember. I remember you shoving me and pulling my hair too and shouting at me to leave you the hell alone.” Tessa smiled a little to show it didn’t matter now. Cal's face darkened and he stood up with the same ease as he had dropped down,

              “Yeah, well I don’t recall it being funny back then,” He snapped, “He used to get drunk and beat on me then you wanted to make it all better.” Tessa felt shock pulse coldly through her body. What? Where did all this come from?

              “Cal, I...” She began but he cut her off.

              “Hey, look I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. It's just...coming back here stirred up a lot of memories, you know? And I, ah, I just don’t know how to deal with them.” Cal unclenched the fists he'd unknowingly made and leaned against the front wall with his arms crossed.

              “He beat you?” Tessa asked gently. Cal raised his eyebrows at her,

              “Sunup till sundown, that's why I was always outside, over Colliers meadow or whatever. Till the CPS took me away anyhow.”

              “The CPS? But everyone said you moved away to a boarding school.” Cal grunted a bitter laugh and glanced up and down the street Tessa had grown up on.

              “Typical of a small town like this. Cover it all up; make sure no one talks about it. I bet it still goes on today.” Saddened and shocked again, Tessa could only offer her sympathy,

              “I'm sorry.” He smiled and it was as if a light had flicked on inside him.

              “No biggie, you was just a kid. No it's the older generation who let things go.” Tessa grasped his train of thought instantly.

              “My Mom wouldn't have stood by and ignored child abuse,” She declared hotly, “If she knew she'd have done something about it!”

              “Your momma was always good to me, so I won't say a bad word against her,” He held a finger up, “But she knew. Just like all of them round here back then knew.” Cal unfolded himself and reached into his pocket, dragging out a bunch of keys. “It sure was nice to catch up with you, Tessa,” Cal said dismissively, “Now I have to go and sort through his old crap.” Tessa launched herself up from the bench, making it creak, and brushed past him,

              “Whatever, Calvin,” She spat, “I can see you're still the spiteful kid you were ten years ago and I can tell you now, my mother never knew a thing.” Tessa stormed off.