Covertly Strong (The Strong Series Book 1)

by N. A. Alcorn

  She laughs in response to Nix’s possessive display and he notices that her feisty temper is no longer front and center.

  “So is this your girlfriend, Nix-y?” the redhead asks as her hazel eyes stay intently locked on Nix.

  Nix-y? What the fuck? Nix internally cringes at that ridiculous nickname.

  He glances over at Sloan to see her reaction. Creased brow, squinty, pissed-off eyes.

  Oh shit, her red-hot temper is now back with vengeance.

  “It’s Nix, and yes, this is my girlfriend, Felicia,” he chimes in before Sloan gets a chance to utter the various insults that have probably found their way to the tip of her tongue.

  And he instantaneously regrets his cock-block of Sloan’s sass.

  “Oh, I didn’t know you had a girlfriend. You should have said something earlier.” The redhead’s voice is laced with double meaning. She doesn’t seem to understand the fact that she’s quite literally messing with the bull and is about to get the horns shoved straight up her whorish ass.

  Nix merely shakes his head and whispers into Sloan’s ear, “You good if I go grab some beers?” he asks, all too familiar with what is about to go down. His woman has more balls than the pussies who rang the bell three times in BUD/S could ever dream of having, and he’s more than okay with letting Sloan put the redheaded frog hog in her place. If his feisty woman is thrown into shark-infested water, she’ll come back with a goddamn fish dinner. Her personality has bite. That’s for sure.

  “Grab me one?” She pats his butt with affection as her brown gaze locks on to his.

  “Like you even have to ask,” he replies before kissing her forehead and striding towards the coolers that lie on the opposite side of the bonfire.

  Slade and Julian follow in his wake once they realize that something resembling the female version of a good old-fashioned pissing match is about to commence.

  “So we’ve never seen you around here. How long have you and Nix been together?” the blonde who was cozying up to Julian asks. The fake, sugary tone of her voice is worse than nails on a chalkboard.

  “I’m pretty sure that’s none of your business,” Sloan retorts with a straight face.

  “Ouch. Tough subject, huh?” The blonde grins at her friend.

  The redhead immediately jumps into the conversation. “Things not so great on the home front? Someone feeling a little threatened?”

  Sloan knows women like these better than they actually know themselves. Their overconfident appearance and vain-induced egos might fill their petty brains with a mocking sense of betterment, but it’s their insecurities that are speaking the loudest.

  Confident women don’t need to slur insults or spew venomous words in hopes that they will prove their worth. Confident women speak with more than simple words. They walk around with their shoulders back and head held high, already knowing their true worth, requiring no means of validation through flitting affections or vast amounts of materialistic compliments. It’s the insecure individuals who behave this way. And insecurity is one weakness that Sloan wholeheartedly understands.

  “I’m sorry. I must have missed the point of the conversation where the guys introduced you two…” She inserts a meaningful pause, letting her words sink in. “Oh, that’s right. They didn’t. Well, I’m Felicia and you are?” Sloan questions with feigned interest.

  The blonde presses her hand to the prominent cleavage she so proudly reveals. “I’m Lacey, and this is Ashley,” she introduces. Her nose tilts upwards into the air in a manner that portrays her unfortunate belief that bleached hair and fake tits somehow trump intelligence and beauty.

  “Lucy and Amber, it’s very nice to meet you both.” Sloan releases a smile in their direction.

  “It’s Lacey and Ashley,” the redhead retorts in irritation.

  “Oh I’m sorry. I must have gotten you confused with the two chicks Julian and Slade brought to the bar last week. My bad,” Sloan lies. Her eyes twinkle with hilarity as she watches the bitter expressions that consume the two women’s faces. “Well, it’s really been nice meeting you. You know, I’ve heard so many stories from these guys—the whole ‘frog hogs are crazy’ and all that jazz.” She emphasizes the last statement with a giggle and sickeningly sweet grin. “It’s just nice to finally be able to put faces to the names in those stories.”

  The shocking gasps and burning glares that are thrown in Sloan’s direction are the best gifts she could ask for—like Christmas and birthdays and every other present-giving holiday combined.

  Sloan leans in close to Ashley, her face mere inches from the redhead. “I know my man is one fine fucking specimen, but see, he’s my man. His name is Nix, not Nix-y, and if I ever see your claws anywhere near his perfect body again, I. Will. Cut. You.”

  Ashley gasps in horror, her eyes nearly bugging out of her outraged face.

  Her reaction doesn’t stop Sloan from continuing on with her little tirade. “I think it’s in your best interest to remember that little tidbit of information. Go ahead and update the other bitches of the Frog Hog Sorority that, if they ever come near him, I will find out, and I will have no problem tracking them down. See, the thing that y’all don’t realize is that I have this little problem with my temper…” She inserts a poignant, pregnant pause into her little rant.

  “After my little stint in juvie, years of anger management and therapy have helped, but sometimes, it’s a lifetime struggle, ya know? Good thing Nix is always faithful to me. Could you imagine if he weren’t?” A harsh chuckle releases from her lungs.

  “Oh, and one more thing… There’s a huge difference in the quality of pussy when it comes to girls like you and women like me. Huge difference. Big. So very fucking big. My pussy trumps yours every single day of the week. One day—when you girls grow the fuck up and realize there’s more to life than spending your nights bed-hopping from one tag to the next—you’ll understand what I mean. It’ll be far too late, but at least you’ll understand.” Sloan pats Ashley on the shoulder, startling her frozen state. “Good talk, ladies. Have a fantastic night!” With a wave of her hand, she turns on her heels and walks in the opposite direction.

  “Biiiiitch,” she hears the blonde spout out behind her.

  “Thank you,” Sloan answers over her shoulder as her strides continue to kick up the soft sand behind her.

  She finds Nix, Julian, and Slade only a few feet from where she stood, a ridiculous grin plastered across Nix’s handsome face.

  “What?” she asks as her eyes flit from one guy to the next, slowly taking in their amused expressions.

  “You’re right, dude. I think Felicia’s balls might be bigger than mine,” Slade jokes.

  “Not gonna lie, that whole bit on your pussy trumping their pussies gave me a semi,” Julian perversely updates her.

  Nix laughs wholeheartedly as he pulls Sloan in for a tight hug. “Damn, woman. You’re batshit crazy, you know that?” His muscular arms wrap around her waist as his deep, baritone chuckle vibrates against her chest. “I mean, I’ve seen you in action before, but seriously? That was a whole other level, baby. You just bitch-slapped those two with that sass you’re so famous for.”

  Sloan can’t help but giggle at Nix’s appreciation for her ability to go from cool, calm, and collected to all-out bitch-mode in a matter of seconds. “I think your love for my sass and temper is starting to become an unhealthy obsession.”

  Nix’s fingers sneak under her chin, lifting her lips to his for an affectionate kiss.

  “That’s it. I’m out, bro,” Julian announces as he raises both hands in the air. “Come on, Slade. Let’s relocate before these two start screwing.”

  Sloan laughs against Nix’s mouth as Julian and Slade walk away. “So I’m your girlfriend?” she asks with a smile.

  “You’re more than my girlfriend, sweetheart, but I figured I would spare everyone from all of the amazing details of our relationship.”

  “Amazing details?” she asks, pushing for more information on th
ose particular details.

  “The amazing details that include how I’m hopelessly in love with you and my cock is always hard whenever you’re around. Fuck, just the thought of you puts me in a permanent state of arousal.” He brings the point home by rubbing the evidence against her.

  She giggles against his mouth, but her laughter comes to a halt when Nix kisses her hard and a lustful growl leaves his throat.

  Sloan’s mind drifts to other territories and she pulls away from his lips, her eyes taking an interrogating expression. “So you seemed to be well acquainted with those lovely ladies?”

  He groans in frustration. “Yes, I know of them, but I don’t know them. I’ve never been one to dig frog hog snatch,” he answers bluntly.

  “Suuuuuure,” Sloan sarcastically retorts.

  “Meli, you’re my girl. My woman. And the only thing you need to concern yourself with is the fact that no one else has ever gotten to me the way you do. No one has had this part of me,” he vehemently expresses as he places her hand against his chest—the very spot that’s forever marked with her name. The one place on his body that’s not only inscribed for everyone to see, but also intangibly connected to her in a way that only she could understand. “Even before you came blazing back into my life, I wasn’t the type of guy who was interested in a quick fuck. My platoon—my Team—has always been my priority. Getting my rocks off inside random loose pussy was never even on my to-do list.”

  She shakes her head and smirks at his crass way with words. “You’re such a romantic. Stop saying such sweet things to me or else I might faint right here in the sand.”

  “Baby, I’d rather fight with you than fuck anyone else. Don’t ever forget that,” he declares.

  With a crinkle of her nose, she smacks his chest in a playful way. “God, you’re too much sometimes, you know that?”

  “You love me?” he asks as his lips brush against hers.

  “Always,” she responds before placing a soft kiss to his willing mouth. “Just remember one thing…” she trails off, eagerly watching him.

  “What?”

  “I’d rather fight with you than fuck anyone else,” she says, repeating his words, and receives a playful smack on the ass in response.

  “I’d have to be dead, buried, and cold in the ground before another man got his hands on this sweet ass,” he demands as his big hands grab ahold of her backside. “This perfect ass, right here.” He squeezes her again to emphasize his point. “It. Is. Mine.” A knowing smirk crests the corners of his mouth.

  “Oh reel it the fuck in, caveman. Now’s not the time to pull out your dick and piss all over me just to prove a point.” She shocks him with a healthy dose of his favorite form of sass. “I’m yours and you’re mine. Nothing will ever change that.”

  After a few surprised laughs pass his tickled lips, Nix pulls her into a tight embrace, her chin resting on his shoulder.

  The glow of the moon highlights a small, jagged scar on the side of his neck. Her finger inches up, brushing across the indented skin. Upon closer inspection, she finds that the mark is pink and puffy, sticking out like it wishes it was still bright red, craving its own notoriety.

  Oddly enough, the faint imperfection makes her smile.

  She wonders if it’s a SEAL related scar. “When did you get this?” she asks, curiosity saturating her voice.

  “It’s a pretty gruesome story. Are you sure your stomach can handle it?” he questions with warning in his voice.

  She leans back, looking up at him, and nods.

  “One terrifying day, I found myself in quite the dilemma. A life or death situation…” he trails off, watching her closely. A stark expression dominates his face.

  Sloan’s rapt attention never wavers, her eyes willing him to continue.

  His mouth turns into an ‘I-got-you’ kind of grin. “I’m just screwing with you, sweetheart. That scar is from the first time my dad taught me how to shave. I was fifteen, and apparently didn’t know dick about the dire need for finesse when razors were involved.”

  “You’re such an asshole,” she snorts. “God, you seriously had me going there for a minute. I thought it was from some terrible accident!”

  A booming laugh escapes his chest.

  “How in the hell did I not notice that when we were young?” she questioningly reflects.

  “Because you were too obsessed with my god-like swagger and charm.”

  “God-like? Ha!” Sloan flicks his scar with her finger. “This little imperfection proves you’re just a mere mortal, Lieutenant.”

  He grins, and then his eyes glaze over in contemplation. “I always used to make a game out of finding your imperfections when we were teenagers.”

  Her face contorts into confusion, a crinkle forming between her brows. “My imperfections? You used to look for imperfections on me? That sounds really weird.”

  Nix’s fingers smooth out the crease above her nose. “I’m being one-hundred percent serious here. I savored your moments of imperfection. They reassured me that you were real, that you were human, and not just some angelic figment of my imagination. Your imperfections were always my own little slice of heaven. They still are.”

  “You’re crazy,” she retorts, even though his sweet words have turned her into a puddle of mush.

  “Nah, baby, I’m not crazy. I’m in love.”

  “All right, let me hear ‘em,” she demands. “Name my flaws.”

  “First of all, they are not flaws, sweetheart, they are endearing qualities,” he corrects. “Your second toe is longer than your big toe.”

  “What!” She immediately glances down at her flip-flop clad feet with wide eyes. “Oh my god, you think I have Sasquatch feet!” She shouts as she wiggles her toes around, wishing the damn things would shrink.

  “Cool it, crazy. I didn’t say that you had big feet. I only said that your second toe is kind of freakishly big,” he goads.

  “I’m never wearing sandals again,” she mutters. Her eyes still haven’t left her feet. “No way in hell am I going to let these circus toes out in public.”

  “Don’t be so dramatic. Your feet are adorable.” Nix laughs, visibly enjoying her worked-up state. “You tap the side of your nose when you’re telling me half-truths,” he announces, trying to switch her focus.

  “Huh?” She finally pulls her eyes away from her toes.

  “Sometimes you tap the side of your nose when you’re lying or hiding something.”

  “No way,” she argues. “When have I ever done that?”

  “The night of the dinner, when our second chance began.”

  Her mind rummages through the memories of that night, trying to figure out if Nix is really right or if he’s just being a bullshitter.

  “Trust me on this. You might not do it all of the time, but you definitely do it sometimes. Tapping your nose, it’s your little tell.”

  “Okay, Mr. Know It All, what’s your tell?” she questions with squinted eyes.

  “I only have one tell where you’re concerned.”

  “Out with it.” She motions with her hand.

  “My. Huge. Cock,” he declares like it’s the most normal response in the world. “He has an affinity for you, and even when I’m mad as hell because you’re being a stubborn pain in my ass, my cock will always stand-up to show you affection. He can never bring himself to ignore you.”

  She snorts, more than entertained by his outrageous insight. “God, you’re a randy bastard.”

  “Only for you, my little Sasquatch.”

  Once several kisses are stolen underneath the dark night, Nix and Sloan make their way over towards a small group of people standing in front of the bonfire. The flames blanket the group in comforting warmth, keeping them cozy despite the cool breeze that flows off the water. Nix makes himself comfortable on a large log that lies next to the fire. Then his hands grip Sloan’s waist, urging her to sit in his lap.

  “Well, I’ll be damned. Nixon West finally brought a woman to one of
our little shindigs. And she’s so pretty!” a jovial brunette exclaims in their direction. “Introduce us,” she demands.

  Nix introduces the two women with a warm tone hinting at his voice. “Mary, this is Felicia. Felicia, this is Mary Stratton, the better half of my buddy Rob—who you’ll eventually come to know as Irish.”

  Joy radiates off him. He is beyond thrilled that his Meli is here with the people in his life who are more like family than friends. His heart feels nothing but pride that she gets to be a part of his life. Yeah, she doesn’t go by Sloan and there are still secrets behind her pretty, brown eyes, but he knows with every ounce of his soul that there’s a good reason behind the façade. Despite her guise and secrets and the need to fly under the radar, she’s still Sloan—she’s still Meli—and nothing will change that.

  Sloan stands up from Nix’s lap and is visibly shocked by the immediate hug Mary Stratton pulls her into. “It’s really nice to meet you, Mary. I’ve heard a lot about your wonderful cooking abilities,” she compliments wholeheartedly.

  “Pretty and sweet? My God, Nix! Marry this girl!” Mary jokes with a spirited tone.

  He merely chuckles, mouthing, “Only a matter of time,” in Mary’s direction.

  Mary’s lively face brightens with a knowing smile, her eyes showing nothing but warmth and happiness.

  “What did you just say to her?” Sloan turns her head in Nix’s direction, quietly scrutinizing his face for clues.

  “I will admit nothing,” he answers without missing a beat. He merely smirks in her direction before getting up to grab another beer from the cooler beside the bonfire.

  Mary quickly changes the subject, gaining Sloan’s attention again. “So, I heard from a few loud-mouthed men that you had the pleasure of meeting some of the crazy bitches that like to follow these SEALs around?”

  “Oh yeah. I enjoyed my little chat with them more than you could ever imagine.” Sloan’s smirk says more than words ever could.