My Best Friend's Navy SEAL Dad: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance

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My Best Friend's Navy SEAL Dad: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance Page 9

by Flora Ferrari


  “It wasn’t so hard,” I tell her. “And I’ve got a hell of a lot of motivation.”

  She looks at me questioningly and I chuckle.

  “You, Snapshot, you’re my motivation.”

  She averts her gaze, becoming shy again. It’s so captivating to read the battle of nerves and indecision that wars across her expression every second, her confidence sparring with her sassiness, her feistiness trying to beat down her shyness.

  I take the box and unhook it from the drone, and then it flies away, whirring through the forest until it’s barely an echo, and then it’s gone.

  I place it on the edge of the table and open it up, handing her a container and placing my own on my plate. I place two sealed plastic bottles that contain our drinks beside them and put the box at the edge of the table.

  “Let me,” Tessa says when I make to pour her drink from the bottle into her glass.

  I smirk as I drop into my seat. “I’m not going to say no to that. Stand up while you do it. I need to see how you look in that dress when you can’t hide behind the table.”

  She swallows, her throat shifting around, and then she stands up and walks around the edge of the table.

  I stare, enthralled, at the sight of the golden dress draped over her body. The fabric is the kind that settles atop the shape of her body, outlining her every curve, teasing me with what’s underneath.

  My mind automatically strips away the fabric – it’s impossible not to when it’s so suggestive and tantalizing – and I have to grip the table to stop myself from touching her.

  Not that I don’t want to touch her.

  But I want to have dinner first, to treat her right before I show her what it really means to belong to a man.

  She pours the drinks, casting me looks under her eyelashes, her face blooming red.

  “What?” I smirk.

  “The way you’re looking at me… heck, Trent, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.”

  “You better. It’s never going to stop.”

  I just hope another man doesn’t try to look at my woman in this way. If he did, it would be damn hard to remember that SEALs are supposed to be in control.

  We’re supposed to be disciplined and level-headed and never let our emotions rule us.

  That was never a problem, never even a possibility before Tessa.

  Once she’s poured our drinks, I toss the plastic bottles over to the cardboard box.

  “Good shot.” She giggles when they both land inside.

  “After throwing hand grenades, bottles are child’s play.”

  She sits down opposite me as we both open our boxes and start transferring out food to the plates. I’ve ordered steak and fries with a side salad, and she’s ordered pasta with a side of garlic bread. The food smells heavenly.

  “What is it, Snapshot?” I ask.

  “Who said there was anything?”

  I grin at her, wolfishly. “I can practically smell your desire to ask me a question. Ask away. There’s no need to be nervous with me. Ever.”

  “It’s just that I’ve never heard you talk about, you know, what happened while you were gone.”

  “A lot happened.” I shrug. “I saw men die and I killed men. I won battles and I lost battles. I was injured. I recovered. I fought again. What did you want to know?”

  She forks some pasta, staring at it for a moment before glancing at me.

  “I don’t know exactly,” she says. “It’s weird. I want to know everything about you. I know that makes no sense. We can’t exactly give each other our whole life histories in the space of a meal. Well, maybe I could…”

  “Is that a dig at my age?” I say good-naturedly, a bantering tone in my voice.

  “No way,” she says. “I really like our age gap. It makes me feel safe and protected. I love how mature and experienced and, well, you you are, Trent. No, I just meant that not much has happened to me, so it’d be easy to summarize it all.”

  “Really?” I lean forward with a teasing look. “Go ahead, then. If it’s that easy, give me all the highlights in the life of Tessa Jacobs.”

  “You’re joking.” She smiles, radiant, brighter than the lights which surround us and flicker on the table, brighter than the moon. “You’re not joking, are you?”

  I chuckle, loving how easily we can slip into this banter, this fun back-and-forth, and let our concerns for the rest of the world slip away. We both know there are things we have to sort – we need to tell Angela – and yet somehow we can put that all to one side and enjoy our date.

  Goddamn, I hope Angela understands.

  She will, my seed roars. She has to.

  “I am in no way joking,” I tell her.

  “Fine. Here it goes… there once was a girl named Tessa Jacobs. She was born and her dad left because he cheated on her mom. Her mom bought her a camera when she was seven and she fell in love with it. She met a girl named Angie and they became best friends. She was a bit of a loner in high school, except for Angie, but Angie had her theatre club friends and that was okay. I never resented her for that. Tessa got older and people called her names and she left high school and she worked in a diner. Her mom got ill. Her mom got better. The end.”

  I’m laughing like crazy when she says the end, but not at her life. It’s the way she told it, in this hilarious lilting tone, tilting her head at me like she’s giving a goddamn sermon or something.

  “I’m so lucky,” I say. “You’re sexy, you’re beautiful, you’re talented and kind and caring, and you’re funny.”

  “Your turn,” she says, delight making her voice high-pitched and alluring.

  “I’d love to tell you. But my mouth is full.”

  “Your mouth is not—Hey, that’s cheating.”

  I chew my steak slowly, making over the top noises of satisfaction, even if it is delicious. She giggles as I chew, glaring at me as she tucks into her own food.

  We eat for a while without the need for conversation, the forest provides the perfect ambiance for our date. I love how she tucks into her food as passionately as I do, keeping her body sturdy and strong for when she’s ready to carrying our children into this world.

  Love, love, love.

  That word has been surfacing in my mind more than ever lately, and I can’t deny it. I can’t ignore it.

  I think—no, I know I love this woman.

  But I can’t tell her yet, not until we’ve told Angie. I can’t tell her until I know we can be together forever.

  “How long are you going to keep me waiting, huh?”

  “As long as I damn well please,” I say playfully. “Don’t forget, Snapshot. You’re mine, my property.”

  “Like luggage,” she giggles. “Are you going to check me?”

  “And let another man handle you? No fucking way.”

  She laughs and then mock-pouts at me, which is a dangerous game for her to play. It’s like she doesn’t know how difficult it is for me not to drag her into the cabin and make use of her captivating body. Every second, I fight the urge, and when she pouts it makes me think of those lips wrapped around my pre-come-slick shaft, so she can taste my need on the end of my cock, sliding her mouth closer and closer to my base.

  “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” she says.

  “I’ll never keep secrets from you,” I growl. “Honesty matters as much as loyalty. We’re going to be a family one day… one day in the not-too-distant future if I have my way. We need to be honest with each other.”

  She stares, waiting.

  I sigh, my mind full of bullets and men roaring and the smell of smoke and sand.

  “It’s focus, Tessa. Focus. That’s what I’ve taken away from my military career. That’s what I took away from war. When you’re over there and shit hits the fan, nothing else in the world exists. It’s just this moment, thinking about the right orders to issue, the right place to aim your gun, the right way to keep your men alive. It’s focus on the mission and your brothers and
nothing else.

  “People say war is bad, evil, and that’s true. Men who’ve been to war know that better than anybody. But what civilians will never understand is the fucking rush war brings with it. Not because it feels good to cause harm. Not because we’re sadists who want to hurt people. But because we’re alive, truly alive, in a way few people ever experience. To live in that moment – and that moment alone – it’s a rare thing. It’s hard to explain.”

  She keeps staring, her eyes filled with patience.

  “And yet I feel it with you,” I say passionately.

  She flinches, those cute naive eyes going wide.

  There’s a vestige of suspicion in her then, as though a piece of her still thinks this could be a joke. I watch her visibly push it away, stunned that I can read her so easily.

  But then, of course, I can.

  We were made for each other.

  “Really?” she whispers.

  “Yes,” I snarl. “That was what struck me so damn profoundly when I walked into the diner and saw you standing there… standing there like you’d been waiting your whole life for me.”

  “I have,” she says, voice cracking with emotion.

  “The same focus came over me. I can’t explain it. I just know it’s true. It was the feeling that nothing else mattered anymore, at that moment. Of course, Angela matters. But nothing else. Just me. Just you. Just our family.”

  I reach over and brush budding tears from her cheek with my thumb, feeling the heat of her, burning through my skin and simmering up my arm.

  “Come on, Snapshot,” I say. “Let’s eat our food before it gets cold.”

  “I feel the same,” she murmurs as we turn to our plates. “I can’t explain it either, but I feel it. Just me. Just you. Just us.”

  “Forever,” I growl, knowing how true it is.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Tessa

  “Do you mind if we take a short walk?” I murmur after dinner.

  All through our meal – as the drone delivered more drinks and some dessert – Trent continued to watch me with possessive need in his emerald eyes. It’s burned into me deeper and deeper with each passing moment, causing an answering song to flare awake inside of me.

  I know where he wants to go.

  The cabin, the bed, collapsing into each other as though this is a battle and the rest of the world can wait.

  And I want it too.

  My body screams for it.

  But nerves still try to twist inside of me, working their way into my conviction, poisoning it.

  “Sure,” he says. “But are you sure you’re wearing the right shoes?”

  “Hey.” I mock-glare at him, loving the way he smirks back banteringly. “I’m a big girl. You don’t need to worry about me.”

  He chuckles and stands up, striding around the table and standing over me. His face is one of complete concentration, as though a forest fire could be blazing around our platform and he wouldn’t even flinch.

  “Come on then, Snapshot, show me how capable you really are.”

  I take his hand, squeezing tightly, savoring the feeling of strength and protective security in his touch.

  He pulls me to my feet and I collapse against him, grabbing his chest for balance. I dig my fingernails through his shirt and feel how solid his pectoral muscles are, huge and throbbing and powerful.

  Then his lips are on mine, our tongues warring, the whole world sinking away except for the sensation of our mouths fused together. He growls through the kiss as the heat shimmers across my cheeks and down my neck and over my breasts, through my belly and into my sex, buzzing, humming, claiming.

  I gasp and move my hands up, over his muscled back, through his silver peppered hair.

  “I need you,” he growls, keeping his lips close to mine when the kiss naturally breaks off.

  “I need you too,” I gasp. “But I want to let my food go down.”

  He knows it’s an excuse, a half-truth – not quite a lie – but he accepts it and takes a step back.

  “It’s a shame you don’t have your camera,” he says as he leads me off the platform, his hand squeezing mine tightly, sending me signals of his own with his closeness.

  “It’s okay. I don’t have to capture every moment. Some things should just be lived, you know?”

  “I understand that well. I don’t want to share this moment with anybody except for you. But I’m not a super-talented photographer. You are.”

  I giggle, delight whelming inside of me, as we walk away from the cabin and toward the trees. The light is hazy, but the pines let in enough moonlight and starlight so we can see where we’re going… or, at least, so my sharp-eyed SEAL can see where we’re going.

  I hold him, captivated by trust.

  I’d let this man lead me anywhere.

  “I don’t know about that,” I say.

  “I do,” he growls. “You’re going to be a success, Tessa. And I’ll support you every step of the way. If you ever need help with equipment, software, anything… just let me know.”

  “You’d do that?” I say, leaves crunching beneath our feet, a soft wind purring over my skin and enhancing the feeling of pleasure ignited by his proximity.

  “Of course,” he growls. “There’s no question about it. You deserve to be able to fully express your talent. The world deserves it.”

  “I don’t know if I’d feel comfortable taking your money, though,” I murmur.

  He stops and turns to me, grabbing my hips and pulling me tight next to him. His manhood pressed against my belly, engorged and enflamed and burning with his seed, my womb singing an answering song in needy tones.

  “It’s not just my money. We’re a partnership now. I own you. But you own me too. Don’t let silly thoughts like that hold you back.”

  “Is your business really going that well?” I ask.

  He chuckles. “I haven’t started my management business yet. But I’ve been clever with my money over the years. Military living is cheap if you do it right. I’ve been buying real estate for years. I’ve got my SEAL pension. And I’m going to work my ass off to transfer my SEAL techniques to the business world.”

  “You sound confident,” I mutter.

  “I am,” he growls. “A man like me – a man who’s seen what I’ve seen and live what I’ve lived – has to be. So say yes, Tessa.”

  “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

  “Do you think I want you to work jobs you hate for the rest of your life?” he growls. “I hate the idea of you not having a phone that works, a car that works. You shouldn’t have to concern yourself with things like that when you’ve got so much talent just waiting to burst into the world.”

  His passion ignites an answering flare inside of me, impossible to refute or ignore. It’s like he’s reached into my mind and plucked all my deepest desires, putting them into words in a way I’d never dare to.

  I don’t deserve to think like that, I’d tell myself…

  I don’t deserve to wish for something more when so many people would kill for the little I already have.

  But as Trent stares at me, I begin to feel the truth of his words rising inside of me, until I’m overflowing with certainty.

  Yes, he’s right. Maybe I do deserve this.

  “Okay,” I say. “But only if you’re sure…”

  “Sure?” He slides his hands around my hips and lower, to my ass, palming big greedy handfuls that make my skin burn. “The only thing I’m more sure of is how perfect this ass is. Fucking hell, move against my hands, push it out.”

  “Like this?” I moan, no longer caring that we’re standing in a forest, forgetting about my nerves in the onrushing crazy goodness of this moment.

  I push my ass against his hands and he groans throatily, huskily.

  “I could spend the rest of my life palming and playing with these big juicy ass cheeks and die a happy man. You have no idea what you to do me.”

  Don’t do it, a voice hisses inside of me when
the thought strikes. You’ll make a fool of yourself.

  I push away the nerves and move my hand to his groin, touching the massive throbbing outline of his dick, pressing against his pants.

  “I think I have some idea,” I whimper.

  It was supposed to come out sassy and confident, but my voice shivers as I grip onto the unbelievable size of him. I remember how huge he was when he stood over the bed, the way his cock pointed straight up it was so hard, veins moving up and down it, pulsing, hungry.

  “Fuck,” he snarls. “You eager horny thing. Tell me you’re ready, Snapshot. I need to feel that hole. I need to feel how tight and excited you are. Tell me you’re ready.”

  “Ah,” I moan, as his hand slaps against my ass in a kissing spank.

  “You like that, don’t you?” he growls.

  “Yeah,” I sigh breathily. “But not too hard. Just enough to make it feel…”

  I whimper when he spanks me again, his lips twitched knowingly, his eyes consuming me.

  “Enough to feel like your fantasies?” he finishes for me.

  “Yes,” I cry, loving how easily he can read me. “Oh, God. Trent. I don’t want to disappoint you. I’m ready, I think I am. But what if I’m not enough? Or what if you’re too much?”

  He might not fit into my untouched hole. I don’t know. He’s so massive.

  “You don’t need to overthink this,” he snarls as I keep rubbing him over his pants, squeezing onto the thick solidity of him, stunned at how huge he feels in my hand. “Our bodies want this. My seed, your womb… fuck it, I don’t care if it sounds crazy. Fate wants us to do this, Snapshot. Don’t worry. I’ll lead the way. I’ll show you how sexy you are.”

  I look up at him, studying the glint in his eyes, shining in the moonlight. I search for any sign of deceit or any reason I shouldn’t trust and believe him.

  There isn’t any. All I see is confidence and possession and us as if our entire future relationship – children and marriage and love – is shimmering across his expression.

  “Okay,” I whisper. “Show me, Trent.”

  I giggle when he sweeps me off my feet, carrying me as though I’m weightless. I’m flying through the air, over the pines, and then across the platform toward the cabin.

 

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