The Crazy Good SEAL Series: Books 1-3

by Rachel Robinson

  “Was. The person I was,” he says a little more loudly. He turns and faces me. He freezes me to the spot with his accusatory glare. “I can’t change my past, Windsor. Trust me, I would if I could, because it obviously is an issue for you. I move forward.” He points at the door behind me. “You can’t change your past either. You move forward. You trust again.”

  I fold my arms around my stomach to hold myself together. “It will kill me,” I whisper. “I can’t go through that again.”

  I’m engulfed in his warm arms in the next breath. I sigh, relaxing for the first time in days. He smells so incredible. He feels so perfect. His words hit the right spot in my heart. He sighs, leans his head down, and inhales deeply.

  “I’ve got you. I’ll never do what he did to you. I won’t abandon you, Windsor. I’d rather kill myself than hurt you,” he says, still breathing in my hair by my ear. I wish there were a handful of guys in between the Nashhole and Maverick. Then I’d be ready for this. “I have no self-preservation awareness when I’m around you. My happiness is directly dependent on you,” he says.

  He pulls me away and holds my shoulders. He looks so shaken by his confession that I actually see his shoulders shake. I want to kiss him. I want him to know I’m his. I lean toward him, but he immediately backs away.

  “Please, just…can we leave here?” he says, stuttering. He notices I’m aware of his verbal trip up. “This,” he waves his arm around the hotel room, “is something out of my worst nightmare,” he says stonily. “You upset. Crying. Standing in front of a bed, in a fucking hotel room.” He shuts his eyes tightly, trying to erase the image from his mind. “I never wanted to see you like this. Especially here, Windsor. You have to understand—you have to believe me when I say you’re different.” His voice drops lower.

  I close the gap between us and hold his big bear paws in mine. “I’m getting that. I’m sorry, I just saw all of those girls all over you and I got jealous, and they are all so flawless and want to give you whatever you want. I don’t even know what you want me to give you,” I admit. My face flushes. He still looks extremely uncomfortable in this room. “You do know you are eventually going to have to have sex with me in a hotel room, right?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood.

  The corner of his mouth wedges up, but the dimples don’t come out to play. He shakes his head. I sniffle loudly. He picks me up with ease and carries me to the bathroom. I wrap my legs around him when he places me on the counter, to hold him to me. He reaches for the tissues and hands me one. I wipe my eyes and then my nose. He just stays silent, happy just to be with me. I lean my forehead against his chest.

  “Why are we so messed up?” I whisper. I feel him kiss the top of my head. Every touch he gives is so full of feeling. It’s like he knows I need everything he gives without even asking. Being with him is effortless.

  “I don’t know, but know this, and remember this, you shouldn’t be jealous of anyone, I only want you and because of that I’m about to ask for the most selfish thing I’ve ever asked for,” he says, pausing, waiting for me to respond.

  I nod my head. He couldn’t possibly ask for anything that selfish. I mostly think this because I’m currently in a state of hysterics.

  “I want you to give me you,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. His words line up with everything Stone told me earlier this morning. He doesn’t think he deserves me, or a relationship. I wrap my arms around him a little tighter.

  “I’m not going anywhere, Maverick. I promise. I meant what I said out in the hallway. Well, I said a lot of things, but when I said you were worth the risk…I want give this a chance,” I confess, placing my hand over his heart. He blows out a giant breath. “You couldn’t possibly think I’d deny you that request? You did just defend my honor. I did the one thing I’ve dreamed of doing for years now.” I lift my head and meet his hazel eyes. One dimple pops up. I laugh.

  “What? Crack his face in?” he asks. “Because technically I did that.”

  “No,” I say, tracing his smile with my thumb. I place a quick kiss on his dimple. “I took a risk. I tend to do that a lot around you.” A hot rumble of laughter echoes in the small space.

  “Don’t run away again. Please. Just talk to me. We’ll work it out. I’ll be what you need me to be. Okay?” he says the words quickly. He doesn’t want to say them, he needs to say them. He seems more calm and rational in here…away from the bed. So, maybe he doesn’t hotel date in hotel bathrooms?

  “I promise,” I say, crossing an X over my chest. “Only if you kiss me right now.” One of his hands comes up to caress my neck, the other pulls in my hair. A view of both dimples and a huge white smile is all I see before his mouth crushes mine. His lips move with mine, his tongue mimics mine and I am in control of everything. His caution only enlivens me.

  I lace my hands around his neck and hold him to me even tighter. Butterflies invade my stomach when he grunts in male satisfaction. His lips leave mine and I feel a little lost. Then I feel his lips and tongue grazing my jawline and then down my neck. I tilt my chin back to give him easier access. He licks a trail from behind my ear and down to my collarbone, and then back up. He nips my earlobe.

  “Let’s leave. Come to my house,” he growls. It really is a growl, too. I grab the sides of his face and force his mouth back to mine. Unbuttoning my shirt, I tear it off and throw it on the bathroom floor. The blue lace bra is sheer and my nipples are puckering through the material. The heat of his lips disappears when he pulls away.

  I reach around my back and unfasten my bra and throw it away as well. “Take off your shirt,” I command.

  My voice doesn’t even sound like my own. It’s all breathy and sexy, and I would totally want to have sex with me right now if I were him. His eyes fixate on my chest and it looks like he’s going to attack me. I want him to do his worst.

  “Are you going to say no to me, Mav?”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Maverick

  THE SEXIEST WOMAN in the world is half-naked and begging me to fuck her—just shy of serving herself on a silver God damned platter. She called me Mav. I feel like I should fuck her right now just to reinforce the good behavior. I never thought it would go down like this when I came to the hotel.

  She repeats herself. “That’s a no, then?”

  I’m so lost inside my own head and consumed by just looking at her bare chest that I forgot to answer the first time. I grab the back collar of my shirt and pull it over my head, baring my chest to her. She immediately starts tracing my skin, my tattoos, with both of her hands. I know I have to stop this because I can’t go much further here. In this fucking hotel room. She is so much better than this. I have her on a bathroom counter like some random bag.

  She leans over to lick the bone frog tat on my neck and her nipples buzz across my chest. Everything she does feels like it’s the first fucking time. I don’t even know how many mouths have kissed my tats, but right now all I care about is that her mouth is on me. She’s the only mouth I’ve ever wanted on me. Stop her. Stop her. Her wet tongue trails over my nipples.

  “Fuck,” I rasp. My dick is so hard, the second she touches it I’ll lose it. Along with self-preservation, my self-control is shot to fucking shit. Her blue eyes rise to meet mine. A smile crosses her delicious mouth and a piece of her brown hair gets in her face. I brush it away. She bites her lip. Then she places a kiss on the right side of my chest, directly above my heart. There’s no tat there. She kissed me there because she wanted to kiss me, not my ink.

  I take my t-shirt, which I held onto for good reason, and put it over her head. She puts her arms through the sleeves, and then crosses her arms over her chest and juts out her bottom lip. So fucking hot.

  “My house?” I ask, taking her pouty lip in between my teeth. I pull it out a little, like she does with mine. She sighs. “Please don’t beg me today, Win. I’m not strong enough to hold out. I’ve missed you. I want everything to be perfect. I want to take it slow,” I s
ay again. My excuse seems weaker and weaker each time I say it. She hops off the counter.

  “Your house. Now. I’m the most sexually frustrated person on the face of the planet,” she says.

  I blow out a breath, happy she agreed to come home with me. I never thought about how she was feeling sexually. I’ve been neglecting her because I don’t trust myself. It’s one thing for me to have perma-blue balls, but I need to please Windsor. I feel like a complete dickhead. I’ll have to remedy that the second we get out of this hotel room. It’s making me jumpy now that we’re back by the bed.

  And with her wearing my shirt that falls to her knees she’s like a walking wet dream. Her eyes linger on me while she waits for me to respond. My cock is still hard and standing at attention like it has been since the second I walked into the hotel. It’s like Pavlov’s fucking dogs. It knows what these rooms mean.

  “How’s Gretchen’s handiwork?” I ask. I can’t keep the smile off my face at her mortified expression.

  “Why don’t you come check it out for yourself?” Zing. I feel like a weak pussy for not being able to take her up on the offer right this second.

  “Let’s go. I’ll get up close and personal with it,” I look at my watch, “in one hour and fifteen minutes. Follow me back?” I ask. I hate that she can’t ride with me, but we can’t leave her car and honestly, staying here with that asshole here isn’t even an option.

  When I saw them in the hallway, I knew it was Nash. I looked him up after the first time she mentioned she had a cheating fiancé. I know where he lives. I know he works in her office building. I also know his social security number and that he leaves his house every day at 8:25 a.m. I won’t tell Windsor any of that though.

  “Turn around,” she mumbles. “I’m going to take off your shirt. If I look at you for another second looking like you do, I’m going to slam you down on that bed and have my wicked way with you, issues or not.”

  I laugh, but a fucking pit forms in my stomach. She said I have issues. I guess I do. I definitely do not want to see her naked in this room. The fact she knows, and is trying to prevent it, makes me happy and fucking angry. I turn around and fold my arms behind my head. The whole situation is hot and incredibly unfair at the same time.

  “Change,” I order. “I guess I should have asked if you need to stay here for this conference first. That would be the gentlemanly thing to do…do you?”

  My black shirt lands on the bed in front of me. “They can’t pay me enough to stay here with him,” she says, stopping mid-sentence. “I’ll call my boss when I get in the car. She’ll understand. Maybe I can make it to the office later today, too,” she says.

  “Or maybe you won’t,” I say, shrugging on my shirt and turning around. She has her suitcase in her hand, ready to go. Her face is still a little red and her hair is all fuck-me-now. Very deliberately she skates her gaze down my body and back up. God damn, it does things to me I never knew one look could do.

  “You’re right. I probably won’t,” she whispers. I grab her suitcase from her, because I will be keeping it with me for collateral. She doesn’t object. Grabbing my free hand in hers, she hugs herself to my side, like it’s where she’s always been. When we arrive in the lobby there are way too many people standing around. It makes me nervous. I glance at the exit out of habit.

  Windsor tenses beside me. The guy from her office notices us and actually has enough balls to approach. “I’m sorry, Windsor,” Garrett says, looking directly at me. “I guess I didn’t realize how upset you’d be if Nash was here at the same time. It’s been what? Two years?” he asks, and it pisses me off for a few different reasons, but I want to see how Windsor handles this without me interfering.

  “It’s fine, Garrett. You did me a favor. I never asked anyone to walk on eggshells about Nash with me. They did it all on their own. So whatever, thanks,” she says. “I am taking off with my boyfriend now, though. I’ll check in at the office.”

  I think my chest rose a few feet the second she called me her boyfriend. I grin at asshole Garth, because now I know he’s the reason Nash and Windsor were here together. He’s on my growing shit list. I’m just glad he hasn’t ran into the Nashhole yet. I scan the room one more time.

  “Yeah sure, of course,” Garth says. “Mr. Hart.” He nods at me and walks off. Windsor laughs, causing me to chuckle.

  “Mr. Hart is my father. Doesn’t he know that?”

  She basically drags me out of the building without saying another word. I walk her to her car, because I know exactly where it’s parked. I parked mine right next to it. “So…” I start to say, but Windsor cuts me off with a wave of her hand.

  She twists the front of my shirt in her hand and brings me to her. “I guess you forgot how badly I want you. No more talking. Your house. Now. I’ll follow you there,” she tells me, releasing me and grabbing the handle of her door. On a second thought, she goes up on her tiptoes to kiss me.

  Her words have had their intended effect. My adrenaline is spiking through the roof with the anticipation. I lean down and kiss her. She smells like a flowery perfume and me. This kiss is all tongues and teeth and promise.

  “Fuck, Win. Drive,” I command. I gently push her away from me, because the image of fucking her in my back seat pops in my mind. That might even be worse than having sex with her in a hotel room. She doesn’t even say goodbye. She gets in her car, starts the engine and fucking tailgates me all the way to my house.

  I pull into my driveway and punch the code into the gate box. I watch her follow me in the rearview mirror. She is looking around, like all chicks do when they’re supposed to be driving.

  My house comes into view and I watch her blue eyes widen when she sees it. I wish I could be with her, to know exactly what she’s muttering to herself in this moment, but I’m not so I settle for facial expressions. Facial expressions tell a lot about a person. If you’re good enough, like I am, you can tell when someone is lying to you. With someone as honest as Windsor, I don’t have to use any of my talents. It’s almost a relief. I park my car behind one of the four garage bays and she pulls up next to me. I hop out as quickly as I can to open her car door before she can.

  “I should thank you for that one really awkward time when you came into my office trying to get a date,” she says before she exits her car. That was over a month ago, but I still cringe at the memory.

  I scrunch my brows together. “Why is that?”

  “Because if you didn’t flaunt your money in my face that day, I wouldn’t have expected this.” She gestures to my house, which is larger than average, sure, but nothing that fucking special. Nothing like my parents wanted for me. I’m happy here, though. “And then I would have been flabbergasted, or weird. Because I knew to expect something like this I don’t have to go through those emotions,” she explains. I laugh.

  “I’m glad my asshole could be of service to you. Weird wouldn’t be good, would it?”

  She shuts her eyes and shakes her head. She takes my offered hand and we walk up the paved walkway to the front door. I unlock the door and hold it open. I throw my hands forward, ushering her in first. Windsor looks at me and smiles an impossibly beautiful smile, and then she walks into my world. And I never remember being so happy.

  She slips off her shoes before I take off mine. Her bare feet make a soft noise as she wanders over to the sofas in the living room. She doesn’t sit down. No, she drags a few fingers over the leather, just touching it. I follow behind her, my hands behind my back to control the trembling. It’s the opposite of the trembling from earlier. Now that she’s here in my space, I want her so fiercely that my body is taking over.

  “It’s beautiful,” she whispers, standing in front of a mixed media piece of art that hangs in one of the hallways. “This isn’t the bachelor pad I expected…it’s more,” she says. It’s more now that she’s in it.

  “I’m glad you approve. Something to drink? The kitchen is down here,” I point at the end of the hallway. The need to t
ouch her wins out and I wrap my hands around her waist and pull her back against my chest. She sighs a contented sound and my pulse skitters. I know she feels my hard cock against her. There is no hiding it now.

  “First, a drink,” she says, spinning to face me. “Then, a tour of your bedroom.” She slips her hands under my shirt and runs them up my chest. “I want to see all of this again.”

  I flex my abs and my pecs. It’s an automatic reaction to touch I can’t control unless I’m thinking about it. She grins and squeezes my muscles. Then she bites her fucking lip. I drag her into the kitchen and show her where the refrigerator is. She stands in front of the open door for longer than is normal, crossing one ankle over the other.

  “Do you cook?” she finally asks. I tell her I do and she seems even more shocked at that fact than anything else. That says a lot because I told her my official job description, not Dr. Google’s definition. Finally, she decides on a bottle of water and turns on me, eyes narrowed. “What else can you do?”

  I pull my shirt off. It distracts her. Just what I was going for. “I can do many things, Win. You want me to show you a few?” My dick strains against my jeans. Maybe confused, because we are at home, but excited nonetheless. She stays quiet, just studying me. I’m reminded of how I study her when she doesn’t know I’m looking. Except, of course, Windsor wouldn’t be sneaky or vindictive about anything. It’s all out in the open for me to see. Her honest eyes telling me all I need to know.

  “One word,” I say, voice low.

  “Bedroom,” she mutters.

  I grab one of her hands and pull her onto my back piggyback style. I run down the corridor that leads to the master suite and her sweet laughter fills the space, echoing off the cold walls. I dive into my king sized bed and trap her beneath me. Her hair fans out, spreading all around her. I kiss her mouth. I kiss her forehead. I kiss her nose. I kiss her neck. I kiss her mouth again. Because I can’t help it. My mouth wants to be on her.