The Crazy Good SEAL Series: Books 1-3

by Rachel Robinson

“I wasn’t sure how you’d react,” Morganna says, her voice quiet.

  I raise one brow. “Did you think I’d be upset? Turn you in to the authorities? Make you pay for breaking up with me via video chat?” I smile. She doesn’t. “It’s merely a scratch,” I say, gently rubbing the side of my stomach. “It will heal and fade away just like any bad memories in our past. We’ll make new ones.” I stroke the side of her face. “The worst part of this is you probably destroyed my eight pack.” A half smile, one that lights her eyes, finally makes an appearance.

  “I don’t care about your eight pack.”

  I hug her as tight as I can manage. “Of course you do.”

  “Fine. I do. How long until you get it back?”

  I chuckle and then regret it. She kisses my neck, and warmth and relief course through my body. “You can help me find it again as soon as you bust me out of here. I’ve heard tongue GPS can be useful in situations such as these.”

  “I’m imagining my tongue on wounds right now. It’s not pretty. Just F.Y.I.” She finally laughs. Mom pokes her head in the door, smiles, and leaves again. She probably heard too much talking outside with her ear pressed against the door, and thought I was aggravating my injury.

  I press the button on the hospital bed to raise my shoulders and back up to a seated position. It’s painful as fuck, but I want to be as close to standing as I can be when I finish this conversation. Morganna sits up with me and cringes when she looks at my face.

  “It hurts badly? Should I call in a nurse?”

  “No. No.” I stroke her leg. “I wanted to tell you that I’m thinking about leaving the Navy. I’ll get a nice normal job and I’ll be home every night.” The weeks leading up to the confrontation with Alex, I’d pondered what it would be like…life on the outside as a normal Joe. If it would ease Morganna’s fears, I think it would be worth it. I’d find other ways to chase the high this life gives me. Hell, I can get shot any Friday night, just by her proximity—the adrenaline chase won’t be that difficult to find. Maybe after a life of hardships, I owe her this as a show of faith and my commitment.

  Her gray eyes widen in shock and disbelief. “There is no way. No way…that you should leave the Teams, Steven. You were made for this life. You would do that…for me?” she mumbles, still stymied at the drastic change in conversation.

  “No. I’d do it for us,” I respond.

  She shakes her head. “I would never let you. It’s part of you. I love every part of you, even the one that…forces you into danger. If you got a typical job it would change the fundamental part of Steven Warner. As much as I’d love to come home and see your face every night, I don’t want that. The cost is too high.” Her eyes glass over again and I know she’s remembering…or trying to forget. Again.

  She kisses me, her hands planted firmly on the sides of my rough face. I pull away. “It’s just an option, Morg. You need more than all of my love. You require more than any other woman in the world. You require an unspoken promise of life—unending love,” I whisper against her wet lips. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to give you that because life is fickle and mean, but I can do all I can to limit the fickleness.” I can’t give her promises of life. Not even by a lying, pigs-flying long shot. I can’t back down, though. And I definitely never miss a long shot.

  “Promise me you won’t quit—ring that bell, so to speak.”

  I smirk. The fact that she uses BUD/S terminology is odd yet comforting. I lay a palm on my chest. “I promise. If that’s what you want and if I’m not too broken I will continue my crusade as a badass. The only bell I’ll be ringing is the one between your legs.”

  Morganna shakes her head. “A record was made; I think you’ve inserted sex into our serious conversation three times already.” Chewing her lip, she makes eye contact. “But I can’t say I’m opposed. Let me go find a doctor and figure out what we need to do to get you out of here.” Morganna rises from the bed, but leans over to kiss me once more. “I sold my house, Steven.”

  I’m not sure what that means, or how to process it, but she’s wearing a wide smile so I assume it’s a good sign. I smile and nod, what I think is an encouraging gesture.

  She lays a hand on the doorknob and looks back at me, her black hair swinging over one shoulder. “We’ll have to wait until you heal a little more to move my stuff into your house, I guess.”

  I wink at her. She winks back and disappears into the sterile hospital hallway.

  The love I feel engorging my insides steals away the pain and I’m reminded how amazing the good is when juxtaposed next to the bad. I’ve waited a lifetime for that wink. The one that says I’m a part of something real.

  Forever.

  _______________

  I got out of the hospital the very next day because Morganna pushed, but it took several more weeks before I was ready to go back to my regularly scheduled program. Morganna hired movers because the couple buying her house wanted to move into it as soon as possible. She was more than happy to oblige. I think every time she walked into the front door the bloody, horrible scene from the night Alex went insane comes to mind. The mere mention of his name makes my blood boil. With Penelope’s help he’ll be locked up forever. It puts my mind at ease now, but anytime I see his photo in the newspaper it makes me go a little crazy.

  We bought a house together out in the country—on the outskirts of Virginia Beach. It has more acres of land than we know what to do with and a gorgeous, old farmhouse that I’ll probably be fixing for the rest of my damn life. But most importantly, it has a large set of pristine stables. Her daddy came and stayed with us for a few weeks when we first moved in to teach us what he found important about taking care of a farm. Not that we have a farm, per se, but because horses are his specialty. He was happier than I’d ever seen him to find Morganna out here in the country, surrounded by what has always made her happiest.

  In return, Morganna’s happiness shined so bright she might as well have burnt up the atmosphere. Another reason he visited was to bring her horse to his new home. Pillage, the dark beasty horse from my nightmares, now resides in our stable, a fact I’m both wary and happy about. I envision releasing him if an intruder dare step a foot on our property. I’d ride him bareback with a sweaty headband wrapped around my head and an AK lighting the sky in one hand.

  Morganna interrupts my cowboy Rambo daydream. “The awards ceremony was great. It was nice to see everyone,” she says. I’m still wearing my uniform, sitting at the kitchen table sorting through a box my parents sent. Now that I have a house large enough, they felt the need to unload my childhood on me, one box full of memories and old trophies at a time.

  Glancing up from my sorting, I admit, “It was a good time. Less boring than it usually is.” I smile. She looks radiant, more beautiful than I ever remember.

  She snatches a football trophy from the box. “Yeah, because you were one of the few getting awards today. Though, none quite as awesome as this golden, pop warner trophy,” she says, squinting her eyes to read the faded plaque on the front.

  If I were a blushing man, I would. Several of us were honored for the mission. Honored is such a strong word. I did my job correctly—we planned accordingly. Everything went right. A pat on the back and a “good job” would have sufficed if anyone brought it up at all. The Navy loves awards ceremonies, as does Morganna, apparently.

  I remove my karate black belt from the box and twirl it around my pointer finger. “All in a day’s…or year’s work, you know. Please, please don’t flatter me.” Raising one brow, I wrap the dark fabric around her waist and pull her toward me until she lands on my lap. “I thought you were working?” I ask, already deciding where I want to fuck her.

  She shrugs, the hint of a smile playing on her mouth. “I intended to, but then I saw you sitting here in your uniform with your life’s accomplishments scattered about and I thought maybe you might want to accomplish something else for a while?” Morganna wiggles on my lap and leans down to run her tongue ove
r my bottom lip. That’s all it takes for my cock to pound.

  Moving to my top lip, she pauses. “What’s this?” she asks.

  I glance where she’s looking and see another of my boxes beside my chair, wide open. Anticipating what she’s going to ask me about, I reply quickly, “Nothing worth interrupting your mouth for.” I push her hips down on my dick and flex it so she knows exactly my intentions. I want inside her silky pussy right now.

  “It’s a jewelry box, Steven. You interrupt the Pope for a jewelry box. Come on,” she jokes. Her eyes flutter closed when she feels my hardness throbbing beneath her. At the prospect of jewelry, she leans over and snatches the box that will lead to conversation instead of sex. I groan a small noise.

  Morganna looks at me, worrying one corner of her perfect bottom lip between her teeth. “Can I?” she asks.

  I shrug, unbuttoning the top buttons on my dress shirt. “Knock yourself out.”

  Her eyes widen and then narrow when she sees the sparkly “S” necklace that’s been hidden for God knows how many years. A token of my biggest mistake and my largest regret packaged in a beautiful box, sparkling with diamonds. She tilts the box so I can see inside. “Is this what I think it is?”

  I pause for several seconds. “Well if you think it’s just an ‘S’ then, no. If you think it’s a token of the feelings I’ve had for you for our entire lives then, yes. It’s always been yours.” My heart and the damn necklace. “You keep it.”

  She smiles this radiant, life shattering smile as she unfastens it from the box and offers it to me to clasp around her neck. With her sitting atop my lap, finally wearing my S, I get the moment I’ve wanted since the day I laid eyes on it in the jewelry store. The S hits right above her cleavage and the light from the large bay window overlooking the farm hits it just right, creating a rainbow effect. It’s stunning.

  “It looks good,” I say. I mean so much more than that, but she knows. Morganna starts laughing, her eyes dancing between my face and the large, gold trident pinned on my uniform.

  I shift her on my lap. “What’s so funny?”

  Hopping up, taking my hand in hers, she drags me out of the kitchen, stepping over boxes as she goes. “I have an early birthday present for you and I think you’ll find it quite funny given the timing of my gift.” Turning around she walks backward toward our bedroom, one hand caressing the necklace. Her crimson, knee-length dress hugs her body as she moves, her bare feet making the perfect padding sound against the floor.

  “You have me endlessly curious, but I like where this is going,” I say, letting her lead. “You didn’t have to get me anything for my birthday, Morg.”

  She nods her head. “I know this, Steven. It’s sort of more than a birthday gift.” Her hand shakes a little, proving her words mean more than what resides on the surface. I squeeze her hand once.

  Our bedroom isn’t finished quite yet. We have a mattress on the floor. A mattress topper was delivered this morning, and hopefully the actual furniture that took her weeks to select will be here any day. It reminds me of a college dorm, or a low budget porno flick. With her in the room, I don’t give a shit what it reminds me of, because I’d fall asleep next to her anywhere.

  She stops in the middle of the bare bones room and drops my hand. “We’ve moved in together.”

  I tilt my head and raise one brow. “Yeah…” Captain Obvious. Not her style at all. I remove my uniform shirt and toss it over a wardrobe box while I wait to see what’s coming next. I’m excited.

  She clears her throat. “You know that’s not exactly the southern thing to do.” Now I know where this is going. I’m not sure of her exact approach, because she’s as predictable as a lion, but I know she’s going to broach the marriage topic. It’s not like I haven’t thought about it, not that I haven’t rolled the idea over and over in my mind. I think about it all the time. I figured she’d let me know if and when she’s ready. If she’s never ready, I’d come to terms with it eventually. A punishment for not making her mine forever when we were eighteen. You won’t see me taking a mile when given an inch…quite the opposite.

  “Are you worried about what the good people of Virginia Beach will think?” I ask, starting to pull at the white wife-beater that’s tucked in my pants.

  Morg holds out a hand to stop me. “Keep your clothes on for a little longer. I won’t be able to get this out otherwise.” Her tone is brisk.

  I let the shirt go and leave my arms hanging by my sides, grinning so wide it hurts. “The floor is yours,” I reply.

  “God forgive me,” she whispers to the ceiling before pulling her dress over her head. My confusion morphs into lust when I see her standing before me in a matching bra and panty set. It’s been a while since I’ve seen her naked due to our schedules and her father’s visit. My dick is celebrating, tenting my pants immediately.

  I make a move to approach, but she shakes her head to thwart me.

  “Don’t pull this shit right now, Morg.” The dominant act hasn’t been in our bedroom unless I’ve asked for it. Right now, I want nothing to do with it. I want to make love to her while watching her perky tits bounce my S around. Yes, that’s what I want.

  “Do you remember when you told me that you were worried that I would never fully be yours?”

  I nod, eyes narrowed. I keep my gaze trained on her face, but my stomach is roiling with unease. “I remember,” I admit. It was a hard conversation—one I had to open up and expose my soul for. I’ll never forget it.

  “I don’t want you to feel that way. Never for a second should you feel that I’m not yours. You’re mine, always, right?” Her voice quavers and I have the compelling need to comfort her. To take her in my arms and never let her go.

  “Morg. You’re mine. All. Mine. Forever.”

  She takes one hesitant step toward me. Then another. My heart rate increases. When she stops about two feet away from me, she tucks two thumbs into her panties and slides them down her legs. Unsure if I have touching privileges yet, I continue gazing into her endless, gray eyes.

  “This is the strongest promise I could think of,” she rasps. I let my gaze flick down. Her S tattoo is gone. Well, it’s not gone, it’s still there, except now it says my name, Steven. I hit my knees in front of her to look at it more closely—to make sure it doesn’t wipe off. From this distance, I smell her. I want her. She’s mine. My name is on her body as proof.

  I feel her hands on the top of my head. “Happy Birthday?”

  I kiss the red skin around the tattoo. It’s not huge or ostentatious, but the meaning behind it is so large that it could swallow the Earth whole. Splaying my hands on her firm, bare ass I pull her closer to me and I kiss her wet pussy. She responds by moving her legs further apart. A breathy moan escapes her lips. “Wait, Steven. Wait,” she gasps.

  I look up, but keep my mouth glued right where I want it, tongue lashing her clit. Her scent makes my head spin. Like when I’m working it’s a one-stop shop for a one-track mind.

  Resting her hands on both sides of my head, her gaze locks on mine. I remove my lips from her and give her my full attention. “Marry me, Steven Warner. Will you marry me?”

  I pray that shock doesn’t cross my face. I’ve been trained to control my features in hostile situations. I know how to give nothing away. Torture me to an inch of my bloody death and I’ll remain emotionless to the naked eye. Right now, though, with every emotion burning my heart like a match, I know she sees it all. She sees how much I love her. How much I need her. She sees my answer written all over my face.

  Her full lips pull into a beatific smile. “That’s a yes?” she asks, kneeling down to meet me at eye level. I keep my hands on her, clasping my arms around her soft back. Her hair sweeps across the backs of my hands.

  She kisses me softly once. It gives me time to unclog the emotion from my fucking throat. “Fuck yes,” I reply as I pull away and break the kiss. “Fuck yes, I’ll marry you.” It takes until this moment to realize my pride hasn’t reared. A
woman just proposed to me and I feel nothing but pure excitement—bliss.

  “I love you so much,” she whispers, taking my undershirt in her cool hands.

  “I love you. I always have and I always will.” I kiss her nose and both of her cheeks. Her gray eyes leak with emotion, so I kiss away her tears.

  This is the moment I’ll remember for the rest of my life. The moment I hold everything that truly matters. The moment I realize that my entire life guided me here. That it was all for her.

  That everything has unquestioningly, always been for her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Morganna

  MY PLAN WORKED. He said yes—not that I anticipated a “no,” but I’m ecstatic just the same. It counts as one of the biggest victories in my life. As far as I can tell, his pride is still intact, which was my only concern. I couldn’t stand another single second passing where he wondered if he’d always play second fiddle to my past. To Stone. Happily evers are different from happily ever afters. You can have both: sometimes with the same person or perhaps it’s with two different people. Maybe it’s different people with the same soul. Stone got one. Steven got the other.

  Nothing will replace my love for Stone. My heart expanded to make room for two great loves. After I finished worrying about what it meant to love two people at the same time, everything became less complicated. I could live life without regrets or fears.

  Kneeling in our bedroom face to face, surrounded by boxes with frames leaning against walls, his hands caressing my back, I’ve never felt so at home—so complete. Buying this slice of my old life gave me a piece of the old, non-scorned, un-weathered by life Morganna. I rounded the corner of bitter bitch, who takes what she wants regardless of cost, and changed into the person I always thought I was to begin with. There are people in the world that force you to change and then there are those that invoke a change without you even realizing what has happened.

  “I’m going to make love to you now,” Steven rasps into my ear, one of his hands stroking between my legs. Petting me gently, but with firm purpose. “Because I’m going to marry the shit out of you.” I sigh a noise of complete contentment.