SEAL My Love: A SEAL Brotherhood Novel

by Sharon Hamilton

  The dancer smiled demurely, moved herself in front of him, and wrapped his arms around her as they inched first to the right and then to the left together. She pulled away and took one of the flowers from her hair and placed it behind his ear, kissing his cheek.

  She demonstrated how fast her hips could swivel, something Trace could not duplicate or even come close to doing.

  Soon, Coop, Armando, and a couple other SEALs appeared at the rear of the stage, all shirtless, all attempting to follow the beautiful apparition in white as she moved from man to man, teasing them.

  Gretchen knew the normal men they chose from the audiences were overweight, sunburned senior citizens or guys who wouldn’t take their dark socks off. Tonight, the audience was lucky to have some actual men of steel front and center, demonstrating hours of PT and training, most of them better developed than the male dancers in the review. Young girls ran up to the stage and threw their leis at the men, who allowed themselves to be “captured” by the flower lassos.

  The older woman drew her song to an end as the beautiful dancer cuddled in Trace’s arms again to close the program. But instead of taking her in his arms, Trace jumped from the stage and came running through the aisle. Within seconds, he appeared, hoisted Gretchen from her seat, and carried her off down the beach.

  Her heart thumped as she watched the excited crowd over his shoulder. Cheers and clapping erupted and then faded as Trace carried her away into the shadows. He let her slide down his front side. She didn’t back away from him as he wrapped his arms around her waist, crossing her wrists behind his neck and then running her fingers through his hair.

  “Thought you wouldn’t mind a little adventure. Thanks for being a good sport,” he whispered. Then he kissed her.

  Her body was in flames at the touch of his mouth on hers as he kissed down her neck and under her ear. She didn’t shy away as his groin pressed against her. But she had to whimper as his hand slipped under her blouse, smoothed over the small of her back, and then slid to her front side, where he slowly drew one hand up to cover her breast.

  She needed air, gasping at his squeeze. He watched her intently and then kissed her just as her involuntary moan pierced the sounds of the sea when his thumb and forefinger pinched her nipple.

  He pressed against her again, and this time, she raised her leg, feeling his hip and muscled thigh against her own.

  His beautiful, chiseled body shone perfectly in the moonlight like a Greek statue. Her fingers splayed to travel the hardness of his midsection, up over his pecs, and then back down again. His hand guided hers to his length, bursting against the fabric of the white, stretchy pants.

  He slipped his palm under her sarong, feeling the length of her upper leg and then traveling to her butt, pulling her into him deeper. Her fingers lingered on the zipper of his pants as her pubic bone rode his thigh, cresting waves of pleasure all over her body.

  He lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. She tasted the saltiness of his chest, listened to his heartbeat, and flicked her tongue over his nipple, which returned a satisfying groan back to her.

  She was oblivious to everything else. The ocean waves cresting and breaking along the wet sand mimicked the beat of her heart. His breathing was ragged, his kisses desperately deep and getting harder. Somewhere hid thoughts about privacy and decorum, but she’d shed them, just as she now shed her skirt. He kneeled in front of her and took her panties down with his teeth, which made her whole body shake with need. His tongue found her slit, and she gasped, clutching him tighter, pulling her shirt up to release her breasts.

  She lowered herself to her knees, tasting the sour saltiness of her own arousal on his lips and tongue. Her fingers felt for his zipper, which he’d already undone. Her knees hugged his hips as he leaned back. Their fingers laced together, guiding his cock to her opening until his full penetration with a sigh coming from both of them. He held her hips and pressed her down on him so that he nestled deep, and she nearly passed out.

  It had been years since she’d been desired, since she’d felt these flames now consuming her. It had been too long, and now, she was quickly losing control, begging him to take her hard and without any hesitation. She met his thrusts with her own pressure, her internal muscles welcoming him to her womanhood. Her kisses showered his ears, eyes, and the top of his head as his teeth and tongue devoured and suckled her breasts.

  She had no idea she had felt such emptiness, now filled with his glorious length. Aware that she was totally wanton, Gretchen asked for more. He flipped her body, gently laying her back on the wild grasses under the palm. He thrust deep and hard, and she held him there, squeezing and pressing his groin into her. His hips moved fluidly, pumping her wildly as if testing how much she could take. All she knew was that she wanted more, had always needed more, and would need more than this quick little tryst in the moonlight dangerously stolen on this magical evening under the stars.

  Years of loneliness withered away as their lovemaking turned her bones to rubber and opened up the deep chasm of her soul. Whoever he was, no matter what was to follow next, Trace had brought her from the dead to the living, showing her that it had all been worth it. It mattered not how long it lasted. She’d been found, touched by a man in ways she never knew possible.

  She’d be powerless to stop it now. She would forever remain awakened.

  Chapter 7

  He squeezed her hand so hard on their walk back to the venue she had to remind him to release her fingers. But she smiled as she said it, and he told her he was sorry if he’d hurt her.

  “Don’t want to let you go.”

  “I like that,” she admitted.

  Her thigh brushed against his as they approached their group. Her clip had been lost, and her blonde hair was everywhere about her shoulders, framing her pretty face, her flushed cheeks, and plump lips he’d not had nearly enough time to explore. His breath had barely returned to normal, but his heartbeat was still rapid, matching her pulse. Her scent had charmed him, making him feel wild with need all over again. If she’d let him, he’d not let her sleep a minute of their time together.

  Linda, of course, picked up on the change in their demeanor. He stood before her not ashamed of a thing. The writer’s eyes glistened as she was nearly brought to tears. Gretchen leaned against him, and he put his hands possessively on her upper arms, rubbing up and down, wishing he could feel her smooth skin under the blouse. His member was pressing already against her rear.

  “Hey, your bride-to-be was left without a groom on stage, my man,” shouted Fredo when he saw him. “Don’t you know you’re not supposed to leave a woman at the altar?”

  He didn’t care. They could rib him from now until the flight home. He was the happiest he’d been in two years, at least.

  “Where’s your shirt, Romeo?” Armando asked him. He too winked at Gretchen. “That was quite a performance, Trace. Way to make a lasting impression on your brothers’ wives!”

  Trace realized he had to return the white pants and get back his own clothes and flip-flops. Gretchen was working with her hair and tucking it in to make an attractive French twist without her clip. Her cheeks were still pink.

  “I have to get my stuff behind stage. Wait for me here,” he whispered.

  Trace received praise from the pretty dancers who flirted with him, begging him to return tomorrow night. He politely declined. He was handed his clothes in a big plastic bag and shown to the dressing room to change.

  When Trace returned to the group, everyone had decided to retire to the bar area. He wrapped his arm around Gretchen’s shoulders and sat for a bit, enjoying the relaxed banter and laughter. More than once, he was called out for his dancing skills.

  “You should see Amornpan dance, Trace. Gunny left her the gym when he passed,” Fredo whispered.

  “Really? I did wonder about the name.”

  “Sanouk is their son.”

  “I’ve seen him. Tall kid.”

  “Yeah, he’s a good
kid, too. Wants to become a SEAL some day. Has grown up with all of us since he and his mother came over several years ago just before Gunny passed.”

  “I’m glad he got to see his son.”

  Fredo paused. “She teaches Thai dancing at the teen center to some of the neighborhood girls.”

  “Bet they love that.”

  “Most requested class at the Center. We’ve got computer classes for these kids, too. Working to keep them out of trouble. You’ll have to stop by so you can get involved.”

  Trace had heard wonderful things about the project the men on Kyle’s team had personally sponsored, using the abandoned Catholic school donated by the church.

  “Count me in.”

  The group decided to call it an early night, so he and Gretchen went with several others in the van. Overcrowded conditions made it necessary for her to sit on his lap, which he didn’t mind at all. Linda found one of the single guys to drive the Jeep back.

  It became apparent the sleeping arrangements would not allow Trace and Gretchen to have any privacy.

  “Maybe we can sneak off tomorrow night,” she whispered to him as she kissed him good night. “Thanks so much for sweeping me off my feet.”

  “The pleasure was all mine, Gretchen.” He was at a loss for words.

  “What is it, Trace?”

  “I feel like I should apologize.”

  “For what?”

  “Well, coming on too strong. This isn’t who I am. I don’t want you to get a wrong impression of me.”

  “You?” She stood before him with her hands on her hips. “What about my reputation?”

  “Except you know you don’t have to apologize.”

  “Good because I’m not going to. I didn’t do anything I didn’t want to, Trace.”

  She sighed, and Trace sent her upstairs with a kiss.

  He found a game of cards had started in the living room, so he watched it deteriorate until no one could remember anything and the drink caught up to them all. One by one, the company left, giving Trace the chance to bring out his blankets and an extra pillow Libby had retrieved from one of the linen closets. He changed into his red, white, and blue pajama bottoms, left his shirt off, and tried to find a comfortable position to fall asleep in. But his feet still hung over the end of the couch, and the ceiling fan was blowing down cold air. He got up to turn the fan off when he saw Gretchen’s form coming down the stairs.

  “I can’t sleep. How about you?” she asked.

  “Same here.” He looked at her sheer nightgown, which revealed just enough of her body to make her look sexy as hell. But he’d decided to slow things down a bit, to underscore what he’d said earlier. “You cold?”

  “A little.” She was rubbing her arms.

  Trace pulled one of the blankets around them both and took them outside onto the veranda. There was no view except the stars and the moon trying to shift from behind the large clouds that threatened an early morning rain.

  “I got your stars here,” he whispered. Gretchen had tucked herself under his chin.

  She didn’t say anything for a bit so he asked her for her thoughts.

  “It’s like I’ve stepped back in time.”

  He felt the same way. “Those were carefree days. But, man, I was a crazy, dumb kid with no clue. Next thing I knew, I was in the Navy, puking my guts out at BUD/S, then graduating one day and getting married the next. I guess I don’t do anything slow.”

  “Do you slow dance?”

  “I do.”

  They started to move together to sounds of a distant singer calling to them. Her head felt warm against his bare chest. He loved the feel of her back and buttocks under the thin white fabric of her nightgown as his hand lazily traveled over the hills and valleys of this spectacular woman.

  “Tell me about your husband. He was a basketball player?”

  “Tony Sanders, Center for the Trailblazers.”

  “Oh, that basketball player. He’s a hell of an athlete. How come a smart guy like him let you get away? That just doesn’t make any sense.”

  “He was my first love. Maybe without all the traveling, it might have worked. But he liked to fool around, and toward the end, he turned kind of violent. I didn’t want to believe it at first. And then I saw proof he’d been fooling around probably our whole marriage. You know what they say, the last to know. That was me.”

  “I’m sorry you had to go through all that. My ex was the same way. That sort of behavior doesn’t appeal to me, although you’d never know it, based on tonight.” He squeezed her waist and pressed her to him as she giggled into his chest.

  “Did we really do that? Do you suppose anyone saw us?”

  “I know they didn’t.”

  “How do you know that?” she asked.

  He chuckled. “Well, honestly, I don’t, but I thought it sounded good.” He drew her away from him and searched her face. “Does it really matter?”

  “No.”

  He lifted her chin and kissed her. “I think it was perfect. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

  She matched his kiss, her taut nipples searing his flesh beneath her nightie. He lifted the fabric, and his fingers rubbed over the satin skin of her buttocks as she pressed her mound into his lower belly.

  “Wish I had a king-sized bed.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Will the couch do if I promise to make it up to you?”

  “Do you keep all your promises?”

  “Always, Gretchen. You’ll learn that in time.”

  He felt her stiffen at the suggestion of an ongoing relationship. When he brushed the backs of his fingers against her cheek, she softened when he whispered, “Or we could just stay out here all night and watch the stars.”

  “And you’ll keep me warm?”

  “Baby, I’m going to make you so hot you’ll explode.”

  Chapter 8

  Gretchen awoke to the sounds of someone grinding coffee. She was naked and sweaty, lying on her side with her back to him. His arm was draped possessively over her hip, his hand gently squeezing her breast.

  “Morning,” he whispered in her ear.

  It was the perfect start to a new, sparkling day—something she’d dreamt about for several lonely years since her breakup with Tony. Getting hot and sweaty and being whispered to by this hunk of a man first thing in the morning was the medicine she’d needed.

  She slowly turned to face him, their legs entangling again, as she hugged his thigh between hers. “Morning, handsome. I’m so grateful you showed me all those wonderful dance moves. The hip action and the—”

  She gasped as his fingers pinched her nipple, and he pressed her onto her back and into the couch.

  “You want some coffee?” he asked after he’d taken several deep kisses. The smell of their combined bodies made her drunk. She didn’t want to wake up, but knew they’d not have privacy for very much longer.

  “I’d love some.”

  He smirked, adjusting his muscled thighs and his other more delicate parts. Bending over, he slipped his pajama bottoms up over his hips and stood. Gretchen sat up, clutching the coverlet to her chest. She saw Coop’s wife, Libby, and her sister, Kate, busying themselves with breakfast preparations and cleanup from last night’s mini-party.

  “Morning, ladies.” He gave them a wave. The two SEAL wives nearly jumped out of their skins.

  “Were you comfortable last night, Trace?” asked Kate with a wink to her sister.

  “Didn’t have enough room, but there were compensating factors.” He walked over to the countertop and poured a cup of black coffee. “Does she like cream?” he whispered in Kate’s ear, but Gretchen heard every word.

  “You mean that Hawaiian princess you picked up at the show last night?” she teased.

  “Yes, that one. Your beautiful sister.”

  She broke out into a wide smile. “She does.” She cleared her throat while Trace foraged in the refrigerator. “Morning, sis,” Kate shouted to her.

  Gre
tchen answered, “Morning, Kate,” from the couch. She attempted to stand up, being careful to keep the cover wrapped around her. Her nightie was draped over a lamp across the room and wouldn’t give her much privacy.

  Trace studied her, his half-smile looking more sexy than he had a right to.

  “I took advantage of her, I’m afraid, Kate,” he whispered as they both studied Gretchen’s face.

  “I certainly hope so,” Kate quipped in return. “Either that or she’s coming down with a fever.”

  “You going to stand there, or do I get my coffee?” Gretchen asked.

  “Absolutely, ma’am. But it appears your hands are a bit full. Not that I’d complain if you had a blanket malfunction.” Trace grinned on his way over to delivering her steaming cup. “Need a little help?”

  She tried to ignore him, which was impossible to do since she could feel his massive body heat through the blanket. The coffee was warm and smooth.

  “Hmmm. Perfect. Perfect start to a new day,” she whispered to his tanned face just before she placed a soft kiss on his hungry lips.

  “Don’t get me started.”

  She smiled up at him again, took another sip, and traced his mouth with her forefinger. “I didn’t think you ever stopped.”

  “You’ve only known me for—what?—a few hours, and already you have me pegged. Good job.”

  “Trace.” She placed her forefinger into his chest. “You might think you’re a mysterious superhero, but I’ve got your number.”

  He showed her his wrists like he expected she’d cuff him. “Beam me up. I’m all yours. You can ring my number all day”—he leaned in to whisper directly into her ear again—“and please, please, all night. I’ll be your slave. I take instruction well.”

  Those words sent a zinger down her spine. She couldn’t look at him, so focused on his heavy breathing and how his maleness enveloped her in warm sunshine.

  “You want your nightie? That see-through thing that drove me wild last night?”

  There was no mistaking the bulge building in his red, white, and blue pajama bottoms.