Stepbrothers Stepping Out
With His SEAL Team, Part 3
Delilah Devlin
Copyright © 2016 Delilah Devlin
Kindle Edition
You’d think my life would be busy enough, living with and satisfying three Navy SEALs, but there’s room in my heart—and my bed—for one more. My steplover won’t mind a bit if I seduce one more of his best friends, not when it’s Harley…
Harley thinks he’s been left behind. That the wounds that shattered his body and ended his career will also end my attraction for him. I’m scared too that I can’t offer enough to lift him out of his darkness. However, I’m every bit as stubborn as these big studly men. Harley doesn’t stand a chance…
My already complicated life is about to get a whole lot hotter…
Note: This original 8,000-word short story may be short in length, but it’s not short in passion!
Check out more sexy stepbrother romances:
Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His Doctor
Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His Friends
Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His Partner
Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His Boss
Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His Pack
Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His Professor
Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His Rock Band
Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His SEAL Team
Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His SEAL Team, Part 2
Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His Team
From the Author
To those of you who’ve read me before—hello, friends! To new readers, welcome to my world!
As you’ll discover, I tend to bounce around in different genres, from contemporary to historical to paranormal to sci-fi—all are very sexy, so be warned. I also write in many lengths from short story to full-length novel. If you can’t tell, I love to write. And when a story is fast, it’s short. If my characters need more pages, well, you get the picture.
I love hearing from readers and have a very active blog and Facebook friend page. I run contests, talk about my favorite TV shows, what I collect, what drives me crazy. I ramble a bit. I’m doing it right now. But if you’d like to learn more about me and what I’m doing or writing about, be sure to check out the “About Delilah Devlin” page after the story.
And if you enjoy this story, please consider leaving a review on your favorite retail site or simply tell a friend. Readers do influence other readers. We have to trust someone to tell us whether we’ll have fun when we open a new story!
Sincerely,
Delilah Devlin
Visit www.DelilahDevlin.com for more titles and release dates, and subscribe to Delilah’s newsletter at newsletter.
Table of Contents
Title Page
About the Book
From the Author
Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His SEAL Team, Part 3
About Delilah Devlin
Delilah’s Uncharted SEALs series
More Short Stories by Delilah Devlin
Stepbrothers Stepping Out:
With His SEAL Team, Part 3
‡
I was alone. Again. The guys were gone on yet another training exercise. Hunter hadn’t said where or why. He couldn’t. But the hand gestures he’d made, fingers spread and floating downward, had been more of a hint than I usually got. And his motions had told me enough. They’d be somewhere dozens of armed men in camouflage, floating beneath canopies of silk, wouldn’t be noticed. Knowing they were parachuting, likely under the cover of darkness, wasn’t nearly as frightening to me as other mysterious operations where the men returned silent and broody—or for some poor loved ones, not at all.
I was happy enough with some alone time to catch up on laundry and housekeeping, tasks that were impossible to do with three large men constantly underfoot or occupying spaces above, beside, and beneath me. I was also happy to have privacy to do my work—and entertain one former SEAL who was sorely in need of entertainment…
“Sara, why are you calling?”
I really liked his voice—deep, grumbly like he’d just awoken. I could imagine his shaggy hair, standing in spikes, his musky scent. Harley was a sexy bastard, or at least, he had been—before “the incident.” No longer on active duty due to his extensive, irreparable injuries, he’d withdrawn from his friends. I had yet to see him. But we did talk, our conversations becoming more personal before crossing a big fat line.
After we’d shared a “sample” phone sex convo, something he’d insisted on hearing once he’d learned what I did to earn a little cash—and which he’d felt compelled to report the details concerning to Hunter—Harley had tried to avoid my calls. But I’m like a gnat, constantly buzzing. I’m persistent like that. Especially when I like someone. Hunter knew that all too well. I suspected he knew I’d be calling his old buddy again. And since he hadn’t warned me specifically not to… “Can’t I just call to say hi?” I fingered the edge of my lace panties in anticipation of another session of over-sharing.
I placed the call on speaker and laid the phone beside my ear to better enjoy our conversation. “Do you want to hear about my latest client?”
“Nope.”
“Do you want to hear what Hunter did after you snitched about our little talk?”
“Fuck no.”
I huffed, pouting my lips. A gesture lost because he wasn’t there to see it. “When are you coming for a visit?”
“I’m not, Sara. Not yet, anyway.”
Knowing he was getting restless, and that he’d hang up if I didn’t think quickly, I started my last gambit for his attention. “If you don’t come, I just might have to come see you.” I listened as he drew a deep breath. Something scraped, and I imagined him rubbing a hand over the dark shadow stubbling his jaw. “Maybe I’ll wear those short cutoffs I wore when I helped you wash your car…” That ought to do it. Those shorts had exposed the creases beneath my buttocks, something that’d had every motorist passing by whistling and honking. I’d paid a dear price for that stunt. Hadn’t been able to sit on hard surface for a week…
“It’s fucking December, Sara. And those shorts don’t cover your cheeks. You’ll turn yourself into a popsicle.”
“So, I’ll wear a coat over them, but I’ll be sure to take it off the minute I step through the barracks door…”
He swore again. “You know you’ll incite a riot.”
“Then come here. Keep me safe from all those rioters, Harley,” I pleaded in a softer tone.
Silence stretched. I bit my lower lip, trying to be patient. I could only cajole him so far before he’d end the call.
Then… “All right. I’ll come. Hunter around?”
I smiled and crossed my fingers. “Of course. Think I’d extend the invitation if I were all alone?”
His chuckle vibrated in my ear. “Maybe I should ask you to pass the phone to him.”
“He’s out running with the boys.” Because I didn’t want him to have time to think of an excuse to change his mind, I quickly asked, “When? Can you come tomorrow?”
His deep breath rasped. “Okay. But you better behave. I don’t want your boyfriend kicking my ass.”
The next day, I waited on pins and needles, nervous because I was anxious to see him, to look into his eyes and know that he was going to be okay. But I was also scared, because knowing the extent of his injuries and really knowing were two entirely different things.
The doorbell rang. I ran a hand over my hips, pulled down the hem of my frayed shorts, and ran to the door. There, I wrapped my fingers around the knob, t
ook a deep breath for courage, and turned it. Pasting a smile on my face, I swung the door wide.
Harley’s tall, lean figure stood before me. His familiar smile with the space in the center of his top teeth stretched.
But there were changes, too—beyond the obvious—which I wasn’t yet willing to acknowledge. For one, there were lines etched beside his eyes and mouth. Ones deepened not by the sun, but by pain. And his hair was darker—only the tips were sun-bleached. A testament to the fact he hadn’t been spending much time out of doors.
Bracing myself, I let my gaze sweep his body, and immediately it was snagged by the hook where his left hand had been—but instead of recoiling inside, something odd happened. Now, I wondered whether he could squeeze my boob with the clamp while he sucked the hardened tip with that sexy gap between his teeth. I bit my lip and continued my inspection. The leg of one side of his jeans was a little hollow, but not noticeably so, and he leaned on a cane. Raising my head, I gave him a real, warm smile and closed the distance, wrapping my arms around him—and pressing all of me against him.
He was happy to see me. All of him, apparently—something he couldn’t hide. His deep inward breath pushed his chest against mine. His exhale feathered my cheek.
When I leaned back inside his embrace, we exchanged stares.
“It’s been too long,” I scolded, pouting my lower lip.
“You’re still trouble, little girl.”
“Not so little,” I whispered, rubbing my chest against his and glancing up from beneath my lashes.
His grunt was pure male appreciation. “Hunter’s car isn’t outside. Neither is Pay’s or Marco’s. Did you tell me a lie?”
I widened my eyes in innocence. “Now, why would I do that? You just missed them.” I grinned.
He shook his head and released me then bent to pick up the backpack beside his feet. “You going to let me inside, or am I gonna have to move you?”
“Like to see you try,” I said, lifting my chin, knowing how my challenges affected my guys.
He grunted and stepped around me, bumping against my hip.
I moved and let him step into the foyer, and then followed him into the living room.
“Nice digs,” he murmured.
“Well, with the three of them paying rent, we thought we could do a little better than Hunter’s little apartment.” We stood awkwardly eyeing each other. I wonder if he thought, like I did, that if he’d still been with the unit he might be sharing our roof. Harley had been inseparable from Hunter, Pay, and Marco before he’d been injured.
A beep sounded from the headset I’d left on the coffee table.
We both glanced toward it.
“No,” he said, his jaw firming.
“Yes,” I replied and swiped up the headset, put it on, and tapped to answer. I gave him a glare and placed my finger over my lips to tell him to be quiet. I had work to do. And maybe, it was well-timed. He’d actually see me in action. The idea sent a thrum of excitement through my body. I listened as the agency’s automated service gave me a brief description of my caller.
Judson, a new-to-me client, wanted some “conversation.” With another tap, I muted the line and groaned. “Conversation” meant he wanted me to tell him how sexy he was while he beat off to the sound of my voice.
Harley cleared his throat. “Maybe I should settle into my room,” he said, hitching his thumb toward the hallway leading toward the bedrooms.
I nodded and unmuted my line. “Hi there, Judson.” I began a playful patter with my client, asking him where he was, was he alone, was he tired and in need of little company? All the while, leading Harley down the hallway. From Harley’s silence, and the tilt of his head, I could tell he was curious about my call. I pointed to a door, telling him without words that this was his room then walked into the room I shared with Hunter, but purposely leaving the door cracked.
“Do you mind if I get more comfortable?” I asked Judson as I turned away, not unaware of Harley’s rising eyebrows as I left him standing at his door. “The button of my shorts is digging into my belly.”
“Are you fat?” Judson asked, an edge to his somewhat whiny voice.
Fucker. “No, baby, I just want an excuse to get naked with you. You don’t mind, do you?”
Placated, Judson asked me to describe everything I removed. If I’d been alone in the apartment, I would have pretended to strip. Judson didn’t do a thing for me, but with Harley right across the hallway, I couldn’t resist.
At last, I lay nude on my coverlet. “Do you like what you see?” I whispered in a little girl tone, because I knew Judson wanted me to be young. The perv.
“Tell me again. How big are your nipples?”
“Quarter-sized and cotton-candy pink.”
“How much bush?”
I wrinkled my nose. I didn’t mind crudity from my guys, but from a stranger? I almost laughed, thinking every caller was a stranger, and sometimes I was pretty raw with them. I just didn’t like this guy. “I shave,” I said. “Smooth as a baby.” I fingered my inner labia. “And my little pink lips stick out a bit from my outer lips. Do you mind?”
He groaned. “No. I like it. Do you have a toy? Something big…like me?”
I rolled my eyes, because he’d just told me he had a teeny weenie. But I reached into my toy drawer in the night stand and swished my hand around to make some noise before I pulled out my Hunter-sized dildo. I flicked the switch on the side. “Now, baby, show me how you like it.”
After I’d pretended to follow his instructions to fuck myself hard with my big dildo, I counted the minutes—two of them, before he groaned and quickly said goodbye.
I slumped against the pillow and pursed my lips in disgust. I hoped he’d never call again, because he’d made me feel dirty. That didn’t happen very often these days. I considered myself jaded so far as clients’ fantasies were concerned. But he’d rubbed me the wrong way.
Still, the vibrator was buzzing in my hand…
I lay the shaft lengthwise against my slit and let the quivers it generated liquefy my pussy.
A thud sounded in the hallway.
I smiled. “Harley, are you out there?” I called softly.
The door creaked open, and he stood in the space, his face reddening. His expression was a mixture of disgust and taut excitement. I hoped the disgust was self-directed. I was nude after all. Didn’t he like what he saw?
I turned off the vibrator and placed it on the bed beside me. Then I patted the mattress next to my hip.
He shook his head. “Sara…”
Although his tone warned, there was no mistaking the desire in his eyes as he raked my body with a hot, hard glance.
Again, I patted the bed. “We aren’t fucking, Harl. just keeping each other company,” I said, giving him a small smile, completely devoid of any triumph I was feeling.
He dragged his feet as he drew closer.
I reached for his hand and pulled him nearer still, forcing him to sit on the side of the bed. Then I turned his hand and moved mine to isolate his index finger and draw it toward my pussy.
His resistance was only a token. He could have pulled away, but he made me work to bring it against my slick flesh, made me insist he drive it inside me.
“This isn’t fucking?” he muttered as I began to move my hips upward to engulf his stiff, long digit.
“If this is breaking the rules, you can just watch,” I said. “You’ve seen me with Hunter before. I know you walked in on us at least twice. You’ve seen my cunt.”
“Goddamn, Sara.” He drew back his hand and looked at his wet finger.
“Just watch,” I said. “Hunter likes it when you guys watch.”
“Hunter’s not here.”
“I promise I’ll tell him all about it, so there’s no secrets. Then it’s not cheating,” I said, giving him a kittenish smile.
His lips twitched. “That guy you were talking with was a douche.”
“You could tell?” Of course, he could.
I’d made sure of it. But I wanted him to admit it.
“Why didn’t you hang up on the bastard?”
“Because I wanted him to pay for being a prick.”
“Hunter listen to your calls?”
“A couple of times. He gets mad, and then teases me while they tell me what they want. He screws with me, tries to get me off script. But when the call ends…” My smile deepened. “He has to punish me, and you know how much I love that.”
He shook his head. “You’re something.”
I lifted my chin. “A whore?”
“I would never call you that,” he said, his tone flat.
“Then what?”
He frowned as he gazed down at me. “Free. You feel something, and you go with it. No matter who’s watching.”
“And that’s bad?”
His jaw sawed shut as he shook his head. “No. It’s fucking perfect, Sara. Hunter’s lucky.”
His roughened voice caused my nipples to spike. God, he was lonely. So in need of someone to show him tenderness. Tears burned the backs of my eyes. Harley needed to feel some of what he envied in me—freedom from his new limitations. But how could I convince him it would be okay to let go a little with me? That his friend, my lover Hunter, wanted this for him?
I reached beside me for the dildo and flicked the switch. The buzzing filled the silence. Then holding his gaze, I placed the lifelike tip against one nipple. The quivers there against my hardening tip sent a jolt of electricity straight to my core. I bit my lip and lowered my lashes partway. “Just watch, Harley. It makes me happy when you watch.”
When he didn’t move, I took it as permission to continue. “Do you know what I’ve been wondering ever since I saw you standing in the doorway when you arrived?”
He shook his head.
I glanced at the prosthetic on his left arm. “I’ve been wondering how it would feel to have it clamp around my tit.”
He swallowed, and his gaze shifted away. Lifting his hook, he said, “This is kind of basic. Just metal. I’m getting one that’s nitrile-coated for better gripping—and later, they’re going to fit me with a hand.”
Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His SEAL Team, Part 3 Page 1
