Celestial Seductions: The Complete Series: An MM Gay Paranormal Mpreg Romance Collection

by Odin Nightshade

  “What are you two doing?” Emmy’s voice spoke from behind him and Chad froze. Josh laughed.

  “Emmy.” Josh released Chad and offered his hand to the small child. “I have something for you.”

  Emmy was instantly distracted by the prospect of a gift and he followed him happily to retrieve the garment bag.

  When he unzipped it, Chad and Emmy both gasped. Inside was the most beautiful, tiny gown that Chad had ever seen.

  “Is that for me?” Emmy asked.

  Josh laughed. “Yes it is, Emmy. I don’t think it would fit anyone else.”

  Emmy ran his hands over the intricate beading and hugged the gown. “I can play princess now, Dad!”

  “Well, first you have to wear it to a wedding. Do you think that you can do that?” Josh asked the question as if it was a very serious issue.

  Emmy responded with a nod and an expression that mirrored his father’s.

  “Josh…” Chad began. Taking Emmy to the wedding was going to raise all sorts of questions. He knew that he had agreed to stop hiding, but this was all very sudden.

  “This is a family wedding.” Josh interjected. “I want to go with my family.”

  Emmy’s eyes were wide as he stared up at Josh.

  “Daddy, can I go? Pretty please? I want to be in Mr. Josh’s family too.” Emmy ran to his parent and wrapped his arms around Chad’s legs. “Please” She begged.

  Chad looked up at Josh who was standing there with a victorious smile.

  “Well, I guess I’m outnumbered.” He laughed. “Let’s go get you dressed, princess.”

  The End

  Straight Into His Heart

  Chris Hobb’s life is on the rocks. The Navy Seal is on a temporary leave of absence while the death of his entire unit is being investigated, and the execution-style deaths of his teammates have pointed fingers in his direction. It would be so easy for him to reveal the truth, but his honor prevents him from doing so. Chris has a secret—a secret that he wants to keep buried with his teammates.

  Nathan Bennett is a rough-around-the-edges therapist who is looking to start a new career in the military town. His exposure to Chris has been pleasurable to say the least, but when Nathan finds out that he is one of his patients, he has some tough decisions to make.

  Can Chris keep the secret that would bring the entire investigation crashing down, and destroy everything that his commanding officers think they know? Or, can Nathan help to find a solution that can save Chris’s career, without revealing the secret that he so carefully guards?

  Chapter 1

  Chris Hobbs was bored. Bored and frustrated. The meeting this afternoon with his commanding officers had not gone as planned.

  On the visor of his motorcycle helmet, the rain fell slowly, making long tracks down the perspex. The traces of them felt, to Chris, like the tracks of his own life: convoluted, slow, getting to no clearly-definable place. He sighed.

  For a month already he had been waiting for the clearance to return to active duty. He had argued passionately the he was ready to return to the action, ready to continue to do his duty for his country. There had been no positive response.

  For Chris, there was nothing else. No other purpose. He was not looking for a quiet life. He had no family, and no intention of starting one of his own. This time off was killing him. He had no reason, no enjoyment, being Stateside.

  The motorcycle took off under him as the lights changed, and Chris felt himself lost for a moment in the exhilaration of the ride. As he raced, he thought about his future, and about his past. It was all tied up in riding, even if, now, he felt he was riding into nothingness, his future so uncertain.

  The military had turned his life around, changed it for the better, but at the moment he felt as if it had abandoned him.

  In his youth, Chris had found himself an active member of a local ruffian biker gang. When he started to see his life turning toward a pattern of crime, Chris decided that things were going to have to change if he wanted a future that he could be proud of.

  He joined the military straight out of high school and never looked back.

  Now, he was a Navy Seal sharpshooter. Or, at least he was until the incident. The Incident had changed his life forever.

  After it, he was not sure what he was. He was impatiently awaiting the conclusion of an investigation into recent events so that he could continue to do his job. Under the impatience, he knew, there were other feelings – feelings he was not ever going to be prepared to face. They were a closed book to him.

  On their last tour of duty, three men in Chris’s unit had been killed. Two men, and his best friend. All of them. The entire unit, was dead. Except for Chris.

  While the investigation ensued, Chris was on a temporary probation.

  To make matters worse, his refusal to talk about the incident had lead his commanders to order PTSD counselling.

  He knew what their motives were, and he did not like them one bit. He knew they suspected him, of course they did. He was the only man to survive, the only man there, who was back here. It looked suspicious.

  It did not matter what he thought of their motives. He still did not want to do it. Talking was a waste of time. And the very last thing that he ever wanted to talk about was what had happened in Afghanistan.

  He sighed, and shifted gear.

  For the time being, without the distraction of work, there was nothing that mattered to him. Nothing perhaps, except his Harley.

  He steered the motorcycle toward a local military bar that sat just outside of the boundaries of base. He parked up against the curb and entered the bar.

  What he really needed was a drink.

  He did not need therapy. He needed to be back on a plane with a new team. He needed to forget and to move on. That was all he wanted now.

  He ordered a shot and downed it in one gulp. The burn felt more real than anything else had in the past month.

  As he sat there, he recalled a recent conversation with Barclay. Barclay had recommended the idea of therapy.

  Chris had scoffed.

  The last thing that he needed, he had said, was to talk to some uppity military shrink who would make all sorts of inaccurate assumptions about his feelings and motivations. There was nothing to interpret. Nothing to understand.

  Barclay had grinned, said he was being a typical soldier. But he had not budged. He had insisted. And that was why Chris was here now.

  Chris sighed. He knew exactly what had happened, that day in Afghanistan. He had not forgotten or blanked out any detail. He knew. And that made him all the more determined to keep the secret to himself.

  He shuddered at the memory as the drink relaxed him, and then he stiffened again. He did not want to relax his vigilance; wanted to hold this secret deep inside himself no matter what it cost him.

  Several minutes later the doors opened to admit a rowdy group that made its way to the far end of the bar. Chris kept his head down and stared blankly into the depths of his newly filled glass. He was not in the mood for interaction. He did not want to trade war stories or give advice to those aspiring to be the next Navy Seal.

  And that was inevitably how these things always went. He would return home, and someone would recognize him. Then he would not be left alone.

  Today, he silently wished that he would not be recognized. The small community of the military base made it difficult to maintain any sort of anonymity, but over the last month he had been fairly successful at remaining in the shadows.

  The stool beside him creaked as an occupant took possession with a heavy sigh. Chris felt a short stab of frustration that his quiet corner of the bar had been infiltrated. He did not look up.

  The faint, spiced and musky scent that wafted his way told him that the occupant was distinctly male. That made him feel more reassured. He did not want to have to face women tonight—they might want more of him than advice, which was demanding anyway.

  He wrapped his hand around the tumbler, threw back the
shot, and had almost determined to leave, when the newcomer spoke.

  “Do you mind if I sit here?”

  The voice was strained with exhaustion and something else that Chris could not identify.

  The newcomer continued. “I’d rather not be around the crowd, if I can avoid it.”

  Chris turned his head and stared into a pair of the darkest brown eyes that he had ever seen. Perhaps it was the lighting, but he could barely determine the difference between the iris and the pupil. Something about this man unhinged him. There was an intensity, and a deep weariness, that had him glued to his seat.

  Chris shrugged to himself, as if to convince himself that his presence did not concern him. The man settled a little more comfortably into the stool, but the tension in his shoulders remained.

  Chris waited for him to say something, waiting for the inevitable questions that military men were usually asked, but they never came.

  As he sat there, sipping his drink, Chris felt relief run through him. This man had no idea who he was. There was not even the faintest sign of recognition.

  “Hey...”

  The newcomer attempted to catch the bartender’s attention, but he was busy with the crowd of cackling fools that were wreaking havoc across the way.

  “What you drinking?” Chris asked on a whim. He did not usually notice what men looked like, beyond the verbal caricaturing that happened to identify one another in the ranks, but this man was different.

  The man had tanned skin, midnight hair, cropped at chin-length, and under his professional-looking shirt he was lean, lightly-muscled. Hard. he looked like he needed a drink, and Chris realized, surprising himself, that he wanted to be the one to buy it.

  The man ran a hand wearily over his face with a long sigh, as he contemplated his answer. Eventually, he turned toward him with wary eyes and spoke.

  “I’m really just here to relax.” He made a motion with his hand as if his offer was unnecessary.

  Chris felt a small smile cross his lips. “Aren’t we all?”

  The man's laugh revealed a nervousness with the conversation that intrigued Chris.

  “It’s my first night in town.” The man explained. “I’m not really here to…”

  “It’s just a drink.” Chris said, surprised. He would not have expected to be taken for someone who was there to pick up anyone, male or female. He decided not to say anything.

  The man said nothing either, and a silence grew, becoming uncomfortable.

  Finally, Chris glanced at the man out of the corner of his eye with a charming half-smile. “You have no cause for concern. I’m highly trained, and house broken. In case you were wondering.”

  Chapter 2

  Nathan threw back his head with laughter. He had grown up on military bases. Nathan and his five brothers had followed his father around the country as he pursued his extensive military career. They had grown used to dour, monosyllabic men with hard, lined faces. But this guy was funny. It was refreshing.

  “Fine, you may buy me a drink.” He acquiesced.

  The man beside him signaled for the bartender, who appeared promptly before them. As the men spoke, Nathan took a moment to evaluate his new acquaintance.

  He was attractive. Devastatingly.

  He had hair the color of cappuccino, and it was over-long for a traditional military cut. When combined with the shadow of a beard, that made him look particularly mysterious. Enticing. The man was an enigma. The first thing that Nathan had noticed was the striking color of his green eyes. It was an unusual color, one that he had never seen before. They were, he thought, why he had come to sit here in the first place. Leaning back, and noticing that he felt markedly less tense already, he realized that he was glad he had. The tall, rugged presence resonated with him somehow.

  Despite his own lean muscles, and almost six-foot frame, he could already tell that he would be dwarfed by the man beside him. He was a solid, hard man, and Nathan felt a sense of strength and purpose in him which was appealing. He also noticed a sadness, a dejection in the way he sat, how defeated he looked. He wanted to find out more about it. The man interested him, though he could not have said why. And he was really funny, which had to count.

  The bartender delivered two straight shots to the pair and Nathan could see the test for what it was. He kept his face straight, though internally he was laughing. He had grown up in a house full of hard— drinking military men like the one who sat beside him.

  He raised one eyebrow, picked up the glass, and waited for the man to do the same. He nodded his head, downed the shot, and watched as the look of pure masculine approval crossed his features.

  “Nathan.” He introduced himself, offering a hand which he enveloped in a firm shake.

  “Chris.” He provided in return.

  They grinned. They had both passed some kind of ritual test, and now they could chat. It was silly, it was typical of the military. It felt good.

  Nathan smiled and felt a warmth flood his chest as the stranger smiled back. His nose was slightly skewed, broken, Nathan noticed, and it gave his smile a lopsided warmth. Nathan liked it.

  Nathan ordered another round of shots and repayment for the first, and so the night began.

  The bar was getting crowded, the noise levels rising. The air was close, and warm, and Chris felt his face flush as the drinks were passed around.

  He leaned across, watching Nathan. The man was sitting, straight— backed, somehow unaffected by the liquor. He still looked stressed, and Chris, intrigued by him, found himself wondering about it.

  “So, what is it that you do, Nathan?” Chris asked.

  Nathan shook his head and toyed with the napkin in front of him.

  “I came here to avoid thinking about work.” He smiled. The truth was, that tomorrow was his first day on the job and he was more than a little nervous.

  “Fair enough.” Chris smiled agreeably. “I’m not usually one for talking about the job either.”

  “I don’t know that I’ve ever met a sailor who didn’t like to brag.” Nathan narrowed him eyes at him and spoke with a tone that oozed sarcasm.

  A thought suddenly hit Chris.

  “You’re a brat, aren’t you?” Chris leaned one arm against the bar top and turned in his seat to face him.

  “Excuse me?” Nathan tapped his shot glass against his and downed the burning liquid.

  Chris spread his hands in the air, palms upward, as if pointing out an obvious fact. It was what had just occurred to him, and he wanted to find out if he was right.

  “You’re a military brat.” He repeated, confident he was right.

  Nathan leaned one elbow on the countertop and rested his chin on his hand, contemplative. He was surprised, and tried not to show it. Never before had he been pegged so easily.

  “What makes you say that?” He asked, sounding mild. “It’s your demeanor,” Chris explained.

  “Oh, big words!” Nathan laughed, so that Chris would know that he meant to tease and not insult.

  “See!” Chris pointed at him and laughed in return. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. You aren’t nervous, annoyed, or interested at all. And you certainly aren’t impressed.” Nathan's complete lack of reaction to him had bothered him initially. He knew it was silly, because it was a huge relief, too, but he could not help it.

  Nathan raised his one eyebrow, and waited for Chris to explain.

  “I don’t mean to generalize, but that is the trend for these bars,” Chris elucidated. “Everyone wants a story, has a question..I rarely come in here without someone wanting to make a fuss of me—whether it's women or men. You’re a lifer! It’s written all over you.”

  “I’m so sorry that I’m not stroking your ego enough.” Nathan grinned, and he laughed.

  Chris smiled back. “Actually,” he admitted. “It’s a relief.”

  As the night went on they continued to talk while purposefully steering clear of any obvious personal information.

  Shot for shot t
hey matched one another and Nathan found himself instinctively drawn to Chris.

  It was an unexpected turn of events for his first night in town. The anxiety of starting a new career had driven him into the bar and, while he was completing a lifelong dream, he could not deny that his nerves had gotten the best of him.

  As Nathan sat there, Chris’s lighthearted banter and obvious charm were doing wonders for his nerves. As the night wore on he found himself relaxing and actually enjoying himself. Surprisingly, Chris seemed to be enjoying himself as well.

  Nathan was accustomed to being around men, both on and off the bases, but there was something different about this. An excitement, an anticipation, that made him feel suddenly alive.

  Nathan was not altogether surprised at the attraction. But, as a young man who had spent his whole life around military men, Nathan had suppressed his true attractions and dated women instead, for fear of ridicule. Yet Chris, a military man himself, did nothing to conceal his attraction.

  Nathan had a brief fantasy of Chris becoming his first male partner, and the thought sent warm vibrations up his spine.

  Neither of them could claim that the alcohol had not taken its toll. They laughed, joked, and passed the hours as if they were old friends and, despite the obvious sexual tension that had sparked between them; they both found, in each other, the relaxation that they both had been looking for.

  As Chris looked at him, his eyes locked with Nathan’s. Those magnificent green eyes stared into Nathan's, and, though neither of them said anything, it was a long moment. A moment in which feelings were transmitted, and confirmed. An understanding laid.

  Sometime later, Nathan decided that he had better head home. He had an early day in the morning and could not afford to have any complications on his first day.

  Chris gallantly offered to walk him out to the parking lot and Nathan, uncharacteristically, accepted. He did not know what he expected, but the faint flutter in his stomach told him that maybe he was anticipating the kiss that he had been fantasizing about all night.