SEALs of Summer 2: A Military Romance Superbundle (30 page)

Read SEALs of Summer 2: A Military Romance Superbundle Online

Authors: S.M. Butler,Zoe York,Cora Seton,Delilah Devlin,Lynn Raye Harris,Sharon Hamilton,Kimberley Troutte,Anne Marsh,Jennifer Lowery,Elle Kennedy,Elle James

Tags: #Romance, #Military, #Bundle, #Anthology

She slid her arms around his neck and arched into him. “That was a cheap shot, wearing your whites. No woman can say no to a man in Navy whites.”

“That’s what I was counting on.” He grinned and waggled his eyebrows.

She pressed her body to his, naked skin to naked skin. Oh, that felt so nice. He hadn’t put her down yesterday. He’d told Ace she was taking the rest of the day off, then he’d carried her outside and put her in his car. He’d driven her to the house he’d rented in suburban Maryland, and then he’d carried her up the steps and straight to the bedroom. There, he’d performed the sexiest striptease any woman had ever been treated to before worshipping her body with his hands and mouth and bringing her to orgasm again and again.

To say Ivy was sated was an understatement. But she wasn’t oblivious. She carefully traced her fingers over the bruising on his face.

“How did you get this black eye?”

Dane looked up from where he’d been pressing his lips to her throat. “Some asshole fired at Matt and me in the sub. We hit the deck—and I hit steel.”

Ivy swallowed. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say anything about someone firing at you.”

He squeezed her. “Yeah, well you scared the shit out of me when you attacked Ruiz, so maybe we’re even.”

Ivy dropped her gaze and studied his chest. She hadn’t told him everything yet. The words were still hard to say. “My mother was a Ruiz,” she said softly, her throat hurting. “Miguel is my uncle. He tried to rape me, Dane.”

Dane crushed her to him. “Oh honey. Shit.”

She sniffed. “It’s okay. Nothing happened because you and your guys showed up… but he killed my mother.”

He tilted her head back and searched her gaze. “I thought she died of a drug overdose.”

“She did, but she was smuggling drugs in her stomach. One of the packets broke. I never told you that part because I was ashamed. I felt like it was my fault.”

He brushed her hair from her face. “How could it be your fault, Ivy? You were a kid.”

This was the part that hurt. “She wanted a better life for us. She went back to her family in hopes of getting that life.”

Dane looked angry. “Yeah, and her fucking brother forced her to do something dangerous. That’s not your fault.”

“I know.” She tongued his pec and he shuddered beneath her lips. “I felt guilty for a long time, but I’m working on it.”

“You can’t be blamed for any of it, Ivy. Your father leaving, your mother smuggling drugs—none of it is your fault, do you understand? If they had been thinking of you at all, they wouldn’t have fucking done
any
of it.”

Warmth and belonging flowed through her like hot honey. “You’re so good to me. Good
for
me. I love you, Dane.”

His hands skimmed down her sides, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake.

“I won’t leave you, Ivy. You mean too much to me. I’d take a bullet for you.”

She shuddered. “I hope it never comes to that. Something happened to me in Florida… I realized how empty my life has been without you in it. As much as you terrify me, as much as you confuse me—nothing is better than when we’re together.”

He kissed her long and hard, until she was hot and melting in his arms. And then he rolled her beneath him and entered her in one long thrust. Ivy moaned with pleasure. They began to move together, bodies and breaths mingling, heartbeats in tune, until she couldn’t hold back the tide any longer. She came in a rush, crying his name as her body splintered into a million tiny pieces.

Life was complete with this man. Unpredictable and a touch frightening, but complete.

“We’re going to make it this time,” he said after they’d recovered.

She traced a finger over the glistening muscles of his chest. “We’re still in very demanding jobs. Are you certain you’re okay with that?”

The smile he gave her made her heart ache. “I am. But I’ll leave the Navy for you, Ivy, if you want me to. I have to finish out my commitment, but I’ll leave when it’s over.”

She put a hand over his mouth. Did she want that? Sure, part of her did. But loving Dane was trusting Dane. Letting him go and knowing he’d return. Letting him be who he was and supporting him.

“No, you won’t. You’re a SEAL.”

“I don’t have to be—”

“Yes, you do. And I understand that.”

“God, I love you. So fucking much.”

She laughed. “I know. I really do know it, Dane. I’m not scared anymore.”

“There’s nothing to be scared of. I’ve got your back. Always.”

“And I’ve got yours.” She pushed her fingers through his hair. He’d cut it since she’d last seen him, but she thought even if he was bald he’d be sexy. “But there’s only one requirement.”

His brows drew together. “What’s that?”

“You have to wear those Navy whites at least once a month.”

“Honey, if you strip me out of them, I’ll wear them every day.”

Ivy laughed. “Deal.”

The End

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About The Author

Lynn Raye Harris is the
USA Today
bestselling author of the HOSTILE OPERATIONS TEAM SERIES of military romances as well as 20 books for Harlequin Presents. A former finalist for the Romance Writers of America’s Golden Heart Award and the National Readers Choice Award, Lynn lives in Alabama with her handsome former military husband and two crazy cats. Lynn’s books have been called “exceptional and emotional,” “intense,” and “sizzling.” Lynn’s books have sold over 2 million copies worldwide.

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SEAL’s Heritage

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Chapter One


T
he air was
scented with a hint of sex and sleep as Danny Begay rolled from the tangle of warm sheets. He hadn’t even gotten her name this time, but she was the little friend of Carson, or had come with Carson before she got sick on the weed they’d smoked and retired to Carson’s bedroom, leaving the party in full swing.

He’d felt a little bad about the fact that Carson had gotten it on with someone else and had disappeared with her. So it had fallen to Danny to make the little waif Carson had abandoned feel better about herself and her circumstances. And now Danny felt like shit.

He was always doing that, trying to be nice. It usually wound up getting him in trouble again. Carson would be upset, and without good cause, but it made for a sticky arrangement with his smoking buddy. And this was, after all, Carson’s cabin in the woods and his bedroom, though Carson was nowhere to be found.

Danny slipped on his boxers and silently padded bare-chested and barefoot through the sliding glass door to the balcony overlooking the woods he and Carson used as their growing fields. Good of the government to make it federal lands, and with the budget crunch, not often searched for their marijuana crop. He’d have to thank Uncle Sam some day. But today, he just wanted to sober up and get rid of the pounding in his head from the sounds of imaginary drums.

He heard the singing too, issuing a high and low cadence along with the steady beat. It wasn’t helpful, since he also had a hangover. A good run or bike ride would take the edge off, but he knew what he was going to do. He was going to have another beer, and then maybe go back to bed and let old Carson catch them screwing.

“You sonofabitch,” Danny said under his breath. He wasn’t angry with himself for his actions, taking advantage of a lonely, abandoned girl. He was angry with Carson for making him do it.

Carson wasn’t plagued with the conscience that clung to Danny like a ball and chain. Danny knew the ever-present shit-eating grin on his friend’s face was either from weed or from the fact that he didn’t care about anyone but himself, which seemed to be enough to make him truly happy. Or blissfully ignorant. Although Danny wished he could be so carefree, he knew it was a white boy’s luxury. A young Navajo man always had to be careful, both on the res and in the white man’s world. Everything was a big deal to him. That’s the way his Native American DNA was. Sucked, but it was.

The forest was whispering again, like it had done so many times, especially lately. Although he heard the sound, he couldn’t make out the message. He knew he’d get it eventually, but he wasn’t about to go looking for it right now.

A large hawk soared overhead in the chilly early morning air, flying in and around clouds of fog, which still lingered in the area this time of year. Its mate would be nearby, and they would call to each other, inevitably scaring a furry little creature on the forest floor into making a quick movement, a mistake for the creature, but creating breakfast for the hawks and their hawklings.

Eureka was said to have some of the worst weather in California, and though his mother had told him several times why she’d packed him up and taken him to live outside the res as a teen, he never understood why she had to pick Eureka.

But that’s where her people, the Miwok tribe, had come from. Unlike his father’s clan, the Navajo or Dine, the Miwoks were not one of the rich tribes that owned a casino. They were poor, and they didn’t live in that glorious part of California with a sunny, sandy beach, either. Their lands were redwood trees and dense forests too difficult to farm. His mother’s people had been unusually tall, unlike his father’s. They had gathered and hunted, and lived off the abundance of their land for generations. They were expert basketmakers, storing their food for relatively short winters, while planning and sticking close to home. He called them the quiet people.

The red tailed hawk turned to take a closer look at Danny’s face, or so he imagined. Their eyes met briefly before the bird corrected, nearly hitting a tree trunk, and disappeared behind the foliage.

That’s when the high-pitched singing began again, which was usually the way he woke up. The chanting told him about the history of his father’s people and the land of the Four Corners, the sacredness of their plight, and the warning against evil that would befall them if they weren’t careful. The words cradled in a nest without full sentences, conjuring thoughts of magic and special powers inherent in his land of the four statues—the Dine lands lying mostly in Arizona and New Mexico.

A chill hit the back of his neck as something whispered his name, warning him not to get lost in the forest of these strange lands, the Northern California ancestral home of his mother’s.

He heard the girl’s movement in the bed behind him, so he turned and entered back through the door, closing the slider as quietly as he could. She lay on her back, the bedcovers not covering the ample breasts he had lost himself in last night. Her face was turned to the opposite wall, and the slender line of her neck was blemished by the red marks he’d made on her flesh. He knew her smell, and the tantalizing flavors of her body parts he’d so thoroughly explored.

He slipped his shorts down over his growing erection, kneeled onto the mattress, and rubbed against her thigh. His fingers finding her bud caused her to arch up, spreading her knees to accept him. His lips were on her nipples, and then her neck, as if kissing away the evidence of his passion. As his fingers explored, parting her delicate, swollen folds, making her moan, her hair’s reddish brown highlights glistened in the early morning light; but her eyes remained closed.

She’s dreaming of someone else.
She doesn’t see me.

As he mounted her and began taking her deep and hard, he knew his connection with her ended at the places his flesh touched hers.

It was still
early when his cell phone rang, displaying a 928 area code and a number he didn’t recognize. He extricated himself from her arms and sat up. Picking up the device, he connected to the land he’d been dreaming about, the red earth of his people.

“Hello?”

His mother’s voice surprised him, since she lived not more than ten miles away from him in California. “Danny, sweetheart, I’m in Phoenix and have just seen with my own eyes Grandfather is taking his last walk amongst us.”

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