Her Honorable Hero

by Caitlyn O'Leary

  Her Honorable Hero

  A Black Dawn Novel Book 7

  Caitlyn O’Leary

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by Caitlyn O’Leary

  © Copyright 2019 Caitlyn O’Leary

  All rights reserved.

  All cover art and logo © Copyright 2019

  By Passionately Kind Publishing Inc.

  Cover by Lori Jackson Design

  Developmental Editor, Trenda (T-Bird) London

  Edited by Rebbeca Hodgkins

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, and places portrayed in this book are entirely products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  If you find any eBooks being sold or shared illegally, please contact the author at Caitlyn@CaitlynOLeary.com.

  I’m re-dedicating this book to the bravest and kindest person I know, my sister Molly.

  You are amazing.

  * * *

  To all who are serving or who have served.

  Thank you for your sacrifice and dedication.

  1

  Griff caught her as she was flying out of the nursery. Miranda was checking the messages on her phone, so the sneak attack was easy.

  “What?—” It was impressive how she was able to keep ahold of her phone, even as he whisked her up into his arms and carried her to their bedroom.

  “The babysitter is going to be here in thirty-three minutes, we don’t have time for your shenanigans.”

  Being the Type A that she was, his wife was already dressed and ready to go for their night out, so they definitely had time. What’s more, Griff needed to take care of her. Even though she wouldn’t admit it in a million years, she was stressed.

  He settled against the plush velvet backboard of their bed, and cradled his gorgeous wife in his arms. He plucked the cell phone out of her hand, and sighed when he saw it was her work e-mail.

  “Babe, it’s Saturday night.”

  “We’re running over-budget,” she protested.

  He tossed the phone onto the nightstand. Both of their phones had cases that could withstand hurricanes, so she didn’t wince when it bounced.

  “So what’s this all about?” She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to convey authority. It was a cute move considering he had her cuddled against his chest.

  Griff stroked his hand over her soft hair, continuing down her back until he reached the top of her ass. He kept doing this until she sighed with pleasure. Even after three years together, whenever Miranda was nervous her walls slammed up and she tried to handle things on her own. But it was his duty and pleasure to remind her he had her six.

  “Do we have to go?” she asked in a quiet voice.

  “Absolutely not. Say the word, and I’ll make a call, and we stay home. Or we go out since we have a babysitter. We just don’t go down to Del Mar.”

  “You’d do that? Even though they expect us?”

  “Hell, say I got pulled away on a mission, blame it all on me. They’d buy that.” She wouldn’t go for his suggestion. She never did, but he’d do it in a heartbeat for this amazing woman.

  “No, I can’t let them down.” She sounded forlorn.

  “It’s not your job to make everyone happy. They’ll have the party and have fun, whether you’re there or not.”

  “They’re expecting me,” she cuddled closer and bit her lip. “It’s just that I hate it.”

  “Sweets, I know you do. As much as you like to kick ass and take names, when it comes to taking praise, you would prefer to have bamboo shoots shoved under your fingernails.”

  Miranda stroked the silk of his gray tie. “That’s not true.” She let her fingers slip between the buttons of his dress shirt. He grabbed her busy hand and brought it to his mouth, and kissed the tips of her dainty fingers.

  “See, even when I bring it up, it kills you. You’re deflecting.”

  She stiffened in his arms, just like she always did when he brought up this subject. Even after knowing each other over three years, and being married two-and-a-half, there was a part of herself that Miranda kept locked up tight. Griff tried to respect it, but lately it gnawed at him like a sore tooth.

  “We have twenty-nine minutes,” she murmured.

  He’d started out wanting to seduce her. Hell, when did he not want to make love to Miranda? But now he wanted to talk, and she was trying to use sex to halt the conversation. Part of him was tempted to push for dialogue. Then she started to unbutton his shirt.

  Miranda looked up at him through the fringe of her lashes as her tongue swirled against his chest.

  Holy mother of God. She knew him so well.

  “Miranda,” he tried to take control. “Talk to me, Baby. If you feel like you need to go, tell me why it’s so hard for you and maybe I can make it easier.”

  She unbuttoned more buttons and speared her fingers through his chest hair.

  “It’s not a big deal, I’ll be fine.” She pulled his tie loose and tossed it.

  It was a big deal, dammit.

  A delicate brush of her tongue across his nipple and he was done. His lids lowered and all thought was focused on the most beautiful woman in the world. She was. He’d thought so the moment he’d seen her on the train, and nothing had ever changed his mind.

  Griff easily lifted her up and away from him.

  “No,” she quietly wailed. “I liked that.”

  “Then you’ll really like this,” he promised.

  He gave a feral smile when her legs trembled as he stood her up beside the bed. “Easy,” he said.

  She slammed her hands on his shoulders, her short pink nails digging into his dress shirt. Griff enjoyed the little sting. He enjoyed it so much, he reached up and tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled her head down for a mind-numbing kiss. He didn’t stop until she was plastered against his chest and his ears were ringing with her gasps.

  Griff pulled one hand off his shoulder and tugged the long sleeve of her blue dress down her supple arm, then he repeated the process on the other side.

  Fuck. She was wearing a bustier. His bustier. The one he’d picked out for her. How had he not noticed?

  He reached around to start taking it off.

  “It’ll take too long, and it takes forever to get it back on. We need to leave it on,” she whispered against his ear.

  “Jesus, Miranda. Are you trying to kill me? If I get any more turned on, I’ll end up with zipper burn on my dick.”

  His woman bit his earlobe as she giggled. “We don’t want to damage the equipment. I’m in great need of your dick.”

  Griff chuckled as he moved his hands and slid her dress over her hips, pullin
g the thin wisp of lace along with it. Miranda took a dainty step out of her clothes and tried to bend down to pick them up.

  “Leave it.”

  “It’ll wrinkle,” she protested.

  “It won’t be on the floor long enough to wrinkle,” he promised.

  “Eyes on me,” she commanded. She meant that she wanted him to look her in the eye. She’d been saying that since the baby. Silly woman was still feeling insecure about her curves.

  “My eyes are on you,” Griff said as he leaned forward and kissed her stomach. His fingers trailed lightly along her pelvis. She shivered. She’d always been sensitive there, and he wasn’t going to stop touching his favorite places, especially when, in his eyes, they were even more beautiful.

  He trailed kisses lower, then twisted them around so that she was the one sitting on the bed and he was on his knees in front of her. He looked up her body, relishing the look of her black hair spread out on the white sheets and her breasts heaving inside her black bustier. She was a goddess.

  “Griffin?”

  “Right here, Babe.”

  He parted her legs slowly, looking his fill. Damn right, men were visual creatures, and wasn’t he blessed with something this gorgeous to look at?

  “Griffin, stop playing.” Miranda was getting pissy. Just another thing that turned him on. Ms. High Powered Executive got his motor running every damn time. Well, two could play at this game.

  He looked at her over her breasts hidden under the bustier, and raised an eyebrow. “Really? That’s the way you want to play it?” He stroked one broad finger down the delicate flesh that was driving him insane.

  She whimpered. Then cleared her throat. “I said stop playing.” There was still a bite to her words.

  He grinned. Obviously he needed to try harder. He raked his teeth along the top of her right thigh.

  This time she moaned. “Oh yeah.”

  Gone was the Ms. Project Manager. He licked her in a way he knew would drive her crazy.

  “Is this what you wanted?” he asked.

  He heard her ‘yes’ hiss out.

  He repeated the caress, determined to drive her higher. Determined to give her pleasure and comfort before the party.

  “Griffin” She sobbed. “Please don’t tease. Not tonight.”

  Was her voice clogged with tears? He could count on one hand the number of times Miranda had cried.

  He surged up off his knees and was cradling her head in a heartbeat. He saw the telltale tear tracks at her temples. “Talk to me,” he demanded.

  Miranda shook her head wildly. “I need to be close to you. To know I’m yours. I need to know you’ll never leave.”

  Where the fuck was this coming from?

  “I’m here, Baby.” He whispered a kiss along her temple, and trailed it down her jaw, then he rested his forehead on hers. “You’ve got me. Forever or worse, in sickness and health, no matter the fuck what. Remember? They’d have to use the jaws of life to attempt to pry me away, and that wouldn’t even work. Got it?”

  Her mouth wobbled, then firmed.

  Miranda’s hands fumbled at his belt, and he helped her. She didn’t go easy on his engorged flesh, she stroked hard.

  Damn.

  Griff shoved off his pants and touched his wife once again. She might be eager, and so was he, but he would always make sure she was ready for him. He groaned. She felt like liquid silk.

  She raked her teeth over his shoulder and he sank deep.

  Miranda opened eyes that were more violet than blue, her lashes tipped with tears. “I’m going to need you forever,” she whispered.

  Softly, slowly, thoroughly, he blended their bodies together. He watched with satisfaction as Miranda began to take comfort and joy in his arms. He slid his hands downward so that he could caress her breasts, the feel of her heating his blood as it lit a fire in Miranda’s eyes. So beautiful.

  He layered a kiss on her swollen lips and they clung together, their bodies knew one another and they shifted ever upwards, until Miranda’s movements became frantic.

  Griff gloried in her need, his hands travelling down to grasp her hips tight against him so that they were locked together. She threw her head back and he licked his tongue along her arched neck, savoring the taste of her sweet skin.

  Miranda dug her fingernails into his ass and he gritted his teeth. He thrust in a way that he knew would bring her the most pleasure. She opened her mouth, then clamped it shut before any sound could be heard.

  If she had that much restraint, he wasn’t doing it right. Griff moved his hand and touched the bud of her clit.

  “No,” she wailed softly. “It’s too much. I can’t.”

  “Yes you can,” he whispered. Griff was determined to last. He circled her swollen flesh and watched her wanton expression. He kept her on edge, then finally he surged upwards and pinched softly. This time she couldn’t stop her cry of release.

  His body rushed over the edge into oblivion. His wife always took him to the stars.

  Long moments later, he felt the sting of his hair being pulled. Ms. Executive was back and she was lifting his head off her bustier so she could look him in the eye.

  “You’re one determined man, Mr. Porter.”

  “And that’s a problem, why?”

  She looked over his shoulder at the nightstand. “All I’ve got to say is, thank God for closed doors and baby monitors.”

  “You should be thanking God that the United States Navy trains their men to be prepared.”

  2

  Griff and Miranda arrived a half hour late to the amazing house in La Jolla. It was the second time they had been to Leslie Bell’s house. Her best friend had been Carol Shepard who had died during the wreck on the Amtrak train three years ago. This was a celebration of life not just for Carol, but for the others whose lives had been lost. Leslie took it upon herself to host the event to celebrate the heroes. Miranda looked at the house with trepidation, because unfortunately she knew that in the eyes of most people, she was considered the ultimate hero, and she hated that.

  She wasn’t a damn hero. She had been acting on instinct that day. She’d been scared out of her mind. She’d told everybody that until she was blue in the face, but they wouldn’t listen. Hell, she was married to a true hero, someone who had signed up to serve his country and put his life on the line time after time. Griff and his team were the heroes.

  She sighed.

  “I heard that. It’s not too late. We haven’t gotten to the front of the drive, I think only the valet has seen us at this point.”

  “Oh yeah, I forgot. Only Leslie has a valet at her house,” Miranda laughed.

  Griff slowed the car to a stop at the top of the circular drive, long before they got to the door. “I’m serious, Miranda, we can go home now.”

  “Nope. I promised Susan we’d be there. She said Hope has a surprise for me. I won’t let her down.”

  “I love that girl. Not as much as Livvie, but close. Damn close,” Griff smiled warmly.

  “Well, get driving.”

  As the car started up again, her stomach lurched and she gritted her teeth.

  Get over yourself. You’re a grown-ass woman. Quit with the fucking phobias.

  Soon they were walking up the granite staircase to the massive doors flung open in welcome. Tea lights guided them through the house toward the array of French doors that opened to a huge deck, swimming pool and yard. So much land for one person’s home in Southern California always made Miranda’s mind boggle.

  “Randa!”

  “Her name’s Mira,” Jeremy corrected his little sister. Both of the Thompson children came running and Griff put his arm around her so that she was braced for the mini hurricane when they hit her.

  “I have a s’prise for you, Randa,” Hope lisped. At five years old, she’d lost her two front teeth.

  “Your present has to wait,” Jeremy said, with the authority that only an older brother of seven could provide.

  Miranda smi
led up at Griff who was struggling not to laugh.

  Mike Thompson walked up with a German beer and handed it to Griff. “Sorry man, there’s not a Pacifico to be found. Leslie figures we all have high-brow taste.”

  Susan walked up and put her arm around her newly-minted husband. “Both of you do have high-brow taste, you married us.”

  Susan winked at Miranda when the two men clinked their bottles. Miranda loved her friend. They sure as hell had been through the fires of hell together. When Miranda had had an opening for a staff assistant at her TAID, she immediately thought of Susan. She knew that the woman would be a great fit because she was familiar with how the military worked, since her deceased husband had been part of an Army unit in Afghanistan.

  Miranda had been working for Technological Applied Integrated Data since she’d graduated with her masters. She loved it at TAID, because as a technology integrator that consulted for diverse clients throughout the world, she was never bored. Her expertise was project management and she had a flair for liaising with the military complex and civilian companies. Most of her work varied from classified to top secret.

  “Come on, Missy,” Susan said, grabbing Miranda’s arm. “It’s time for you to make the rounds.”

  Griff’s arm tightened around her waist.

  “Want me to go with you?” he whispered against her ear.

  She shook her head, and started to let Susan lead her away. The sun was setting over the Pacific Ocean and a lot of the guests were leaning against the deck rail, watching the sizzling splash of colors light the sea and sky.

  “Wait Mom, where are the flowers?” Jeremy called out.

  “Oh I’m sorry, Honey. They’re over by Leslie. Come with us.”

  “What flowers?” Miranda asked Susan.