Heroes in Uniform: Soldiers, SEALs, Spies, Rangers and Cops: Sexy Hot Contemporary Alpha Heroes From NY Times and USA Today Bestselling Authors

by Sharon Hamilton

  “Nah, nah you’re not going to play that game with me. You have a name and I want to know what it is before I fuck you again.”

  “Fuck?” she said, her Italian eyes widening. “Ah, Inglese.” She pointed to her temple again.

  “Yea, you understand the word fuck, but not name? No-may, dammit.”

  She laughed, arching those impossibly beautiful breasts into him, her fingers playing with the long strands of her hair. He was getting annoyed that she wouldn’t tell him what he obviously wanted to know. Her eyes flashed as she danced with his heart. As she wrapped his waist with her legs, daring him.

  He knew it was best to keep the woman happy. But it irritated him that she was messing with him so obviously. As he plunged in, perhaps too needily, he banged her bed against the wall loudly with his thrusts. The windows shook and something fell to the floor, like a picture, and shattered.

  She laughed and he kept pumping her into oblivion. Until she stopped laughing and slowly inhaled as she ran her palms over his shoulders and upper arms. When she traveled back up to his face, tracing his lips, he drew her fingers into his mouth and sucked them.

  He kept up the desperate action of his hips as if he could make them both fly away somewhere, somewhere they could talk and understand each other. Somewhere he could tell her what she was making him feel, so he could hear what she felt from her mouth. It became important, urgent.

  He could already tell when she was about to orgasm. She sucked in air and gave that long, wonderful, rolling cry, punctuated by the sounds of their flesh slapping together, and filled his heart with music.

  I can take you places, baby. Places you’ve never seen. Give me half a chance and I will worship the ground you walk on, even if it’s only for this glorious afternoon. I want you to smell me on your sheets and call to me and I’ll come to you. Again and again. I’m coming to you, baby.

  They’d dressed after a long shower and more play. A tiny bit of grief crept back in. Separation was a problem for him. The cappuccino helped. Their affair ended the same way it began, on the piazza, overlooking the boats, emergency vehicle sirens still screaming in the early evening air. He smelled like her lemon shower gel, but his insides wore her aura like a warm, permanent blanket.

  As he watched her walk away, noticing she didn’t turn around to say goodbye, he thought he saw her hand go up to her face, perhaps pulling the wayward strands of her curly hair away, but wasn’t sure.

  He knew, since the cruise left in the morning, that her refusal to give him her name meant there was no future for them. He did have her address, though. He’d written it in his little notebook. Maybe he’d send flowers, maybe a letter. Perhaps they could write, have someone translate for them. Perhaps the long distance would help them become friends first, though God knew they were well suited in bed.

  As she drifted further away from him, he couldn’t help but feel cold, like the coldness that had shrouded him every day since Sophie’s death. For this glorious afternoon, this mystery woman had healed him, taken his mind off the fact that he was alive and alone. Now he didn’t feel so alone any longer. Even though he would never see her again.

  Just as she turned the corner and was out of sight, he got his notebook out to find the page where he’d written her address. What he also found was something she’d written in Italian.

  And underneath her words, she’d written her name,

  Sophia.

  A large hand slapped him on the shoulder. Cooper’s giant body blocked the sun from the whole table, plus the one next to Mark.

  “Where the hell you been? We’ve doubled back here like ten times, and you’ve been a no-show.”

  Mark smiled, licked his lips and tasted her. “Been a little busy.” He quickly tucked the little book inside his vest pocket.

  “I’ll bet. The local girls are all over Jones.”

  “Fredo too, I hope.”

  “Not a fuckin’ chance,” Coop said grinning. “Poor dumb fuck. Although I do have to say that Mia has softened a bit toward him.”

  Everyone should be in love.

  “Soooo…who is she?” Coop demanded.

  “Who?”

  “The girl. Has to be a girl. You’re, like, MIA. We took a tour of the fort and came back. Christy and the girls went shopping, and we doubled back again.”

  Mark shrugged and looked down the street where she’d disappeared.

  “I wasn’t far away.”

  “Halfway to Heaven, I’d bet.”

  “Roger that,” Mark said as he put on his shades and stood. “Where’s everyone now?”

  “Right around the corner at the Ferrari place.”

  “Who’s buying a Ferrari?” he asked while they walked.

  “Damned if I know. Kyle’s thinking if we all pitched in about thirty grand, we could own it together.”

  “Like that would be a smart thing.”

  “You can rent them for fifteen minutes for about a hundred Euros.”

  “No shit?” Mark said as he glanced over his shoulder…just in case she’d changed her mind and had come back. But the street was empty. He had a fun fantasy of a very fast drive through the countryside with afternoon delight. The girl he now knew was named Sophia. Was God playing a trick on him?

  No, not a trick. There were no accidents, he’d been told. Everything was part of some big plan. And for some reason Mark’s plan was to find her again. Even if it took the rest of his young life. He knew he would. Somehow.

  They rounded a cluster of colorful yellow, salmon and light green buildings to another courtyard with several shops downstairs and residences on top. A red and yellow Ferrari sign hung above the glass windows of the shop on the corner across the yard. Kyle’s wife, Christy, was leaning over the red “California” convertible while Kyle took pictures.

  Nick came out of the shop with Devon, laughing. She was modeling a red Ferrari jacket with matching red cap. He winked over Mark’s way and left Devon to join Christy and the girls posing in front of the Ferrari.

  Standing next to Mark, the two appraised the crowd of beautiful women throwing themselves at the handsome Italian proprietor.

  “He must be in heaven,” Nick said, grinning as he and everyone else and took a picture, too.

  “I’m guessing he hasn’t had that much attention all week. Nice looking guy, though. Kinda reminds me of Armani,” Mark said. “By the way, where the hell is he?”

  “Scouting for dinner,” Armani said behind them. “You’re gonna love it.”

  They meandered along the cobblestone streets until they crossed the inlet bridge and were on the other side, in the old town. Row upon row of narrow alleyways barely big enough for a subcompact car revealed their twisted and mysteriously dark innards. The smells emanating from the cozy neighborhood were a mixture of tomatoes, basil and eastern spices. There were kebab houses and pizza parlors. Some of the little dives played American jazz, and others Italian opera or pop Italian.

  Mark watched the couples in his group holding hands. Even Mia walked with Fredo. He noticed young couples along the street, not afraid to show their affection. He’d seen more public kissing in Italy than anywhere else, and that surprised him. It also left a little lonely hole in his heart.

  Malcolm Jones fell back to walk beside him. “You were like a ghost this afternoon.”

  “On a private mission,” Mark said. “I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”

  “Roger that. I found me a little lady I’m going to meet up with later. She’s got a best friend…hell, it could be her sister or her mother, and the way I speak Italian, if you’re interested. No promises. But the lady I’m meeting is fine. Just fine.”

  Oh yeah, the language thing. “Tell me about it.”

  “Kind of fun, though. I think I managed to get my intentions across,” Jones smiled confidently. Mark felt more than the usual kinship with the young officer and knew he’d make a good career on the Teams. And he’d be popular, leading his own platoon someday, just like Kyl
e was.

  “It’s kind of fun that she speaks Italian to me, and I only speak English. We let our bodies do the talking, know what I’m sayin’?” Mark said.

  “I know exactly what you’re saying. Sometimes American girls jes talk too much.”

  “On that we agree, my friend,” Mark said as he thumped Jones on the back.

  “So, what about tonight?” Jones asked again.

  “I’m going to try to find my lady again. If the lady wants to be found, that is.”

  “Ah, one of those stories. I know it too well.” Jones was pensive as they continued down the narrow street.

  Mark would have been game on any other night. He knew he’d be knocking on her door, and he doubted she’d answer. Just something about how she rushed off told him that.

  At dinner, they drank red new wine that was light as punch in color but big in alcohol. The girls showed off what they bought as the men laughed and soaked up the family bond of their brotherhood they would be depending on strongly very soon. No one discussed the fact that they were going overseas in three short weeks. This little trip was partly to bond the Team, but also to complete something Gunny had sparked in all of them.

  The old Marine had gotten to know his son Sanouk before he passed away the week of Thanksgiving. Sanouk’s mother even came over from Thailand to tend to Gunny during the last month of his life. Though the former Marine complained, she bathed his shriveled body and changed his bed sheets, and did it as lovingly as if she were tending to a newborn, which in fact Gunny had become.

  In the end, they’d all cried when news of his death came to them, just like they did when one of their Team or another branch member fell. In many cases, Gunny was the father some of the guys never really had. He’d driven them home when they were too drunk, and his crusty old gym was a place for former Team guys to rub shoulders with those who carried on in their place. They’d had a party for Sanouk when he arrived, the only one of Gunny’s offspring that littered the world that he actually got to meet. But when Amopep arrived, her quiet beauty and dedication to the wizened old man took their breath away, and they allowed the two of them a reunion beyond anything Gunny had ever expected.

  There was no party.

  Mark knew it was exactly what Gunny needed, to be reunited with one of the several women he’d married. He’d marry the next one without divorcing any of his previous wives, because he said he believed in marriage, just didn’t believe in divorce. And he wouldn’t have sex with them until the marriage was official. All of the women had been from Southeast Asia. Gunny called himself a serial husband, but everyone knew he was an honorable one. And underneath his tough exterior he had a romantic heart.

  Mark watched the faces of his Teammates and their ladies. Even Mia and Fredo shared a laugh over what Fredo was served, thinking they’d ordered him something else.

  “What’s this green shit?” Fredo said as he examined his white fish on a bed of sautéed vegetables. Mia leaned over and planted a kiss on his cheek, which made Fredo’s eyes bug out.

  “I think you’re in danger of becoming a healthy man,” Coop laughed. “Next thing you know, you’ll be ordering tofu and drinking protein shakes.”

  Mia was served big red tubes of delicious-smelling pasta ladled with a spicy marinara sauce and covered in cheese.

  “That’s more like it,” Fredo announced to the crowd.

  “You can have some of mine,” Mia said, and the crowd hushed.

  A group of young Russian girls caught Mark’s eye. Rory and Tyler had already started a flirtation. The girls whipped around, looked at the two of them and then quickly turned back to their friends, giggling.

  Mark liked that about girls. They could giggle, and it just seemed to lighten the room. He’d liked the way Sophia’s breasts shook when she giggled, especially if she threw her head back. That beautiful, smooth neck, the way her hair went all over the place, all unruly and just-fucked looking. Carefree. Boy, was this an afternoon he’d needed. And here he wanted to make it all complicated by going back for seconds.

  He still felt wrapped in the memory of their afternoon together like a warm blanket, and it soothed part of the heartache of knowing he’d never see her again.

  But that didn’t mean he’d ever stop trying. He was snagged already.

  Cruisin’ for a Seal: Chapter Four

  The embarkation procedure was long and tiring. Mark had seen more orderly operations at a meat packing plant. Groups of people pushed their way through lines that were non-existent, ignoring the gentle urging of cruise ship staff who tried desperately to keep the traffic lanes roped off.

  Mark listened to at least a dozen languages, and rarely English, which made this trip something special. That, and the fact that it was the only cruise to the Equator this time of year. The ship was being repositioned from the gentle waters of the Mediterranean to sail around South America, since it was always sunny and summer in some part of the world.

  The Russian girls were there, too. Still giggling. Examining their leggings and odd clothes, he realized they were probably part of the on board entertainment.

  What a life!

  But then there were men who would trade places with him in the killing fields overseas in a heartbeat. Nice to know that people were still out cruising, enjoying themselves, flirting with foreign girls, and having a normal life while they were out there getting shot at and bombed to pieces. And he wouldn’t trade it for anything. Not anything.

  He’d go back there and face Dr. Death, and still wear some of the sparkle of their giggles like beads at Mardi Gras, the remembrances of Sophia’s sighs and smooth skin, the pushier tourists trying to board ship first—all of it. He’d take it all in his toolkit, just like he’d take his H&K and his Kimber. He’d use whatever he needed to get through the next four to six months.

  The immigration officer who scanned his passport and visa squinted. He was nearly a head shorter than Mark, with island features. Hard, dark eyes bored into him and, without a smile, sized up Mark’s shoulders, glancing sideways at a couple of the other SEALs standing in the line next to him. Mark could tell the man knew who he was. Who they were.

  With a curt bow, he presented his papers and passport back and said in unaccented English, “Have a nice day.”

  Another security officer grabbed Kyle from behind after he’d made it through the gauntlet of immigration.

  “Moshe!” Kyle yelled as he embraced the tall, handsome Israeli. The big guy looked awkward in Kyle’s huge arms for a second before he managed to pull himself away with a huge grin.

  “Never thought I’d run into you here in Italy. You’re going on vacation with your lovely wife?” Moshe asked. “You brought the children?”

  “Nah, man. Just a little cozy one-on-one with Christy. And I’ve only got one rug rat. Brandon is almost two. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to start him a little brother or sister this trip,” Kyle said and winked.

  “Excellent. Lots of time at sea, rocking and rolling. Should make for some good playtime, my friend.”

  “Guys, this is Moshe,” Kyle said to the group.

  Cooper was next to embrace the Israeli. “You clean up real good, Mosh. I like you better in navy than that sand camo.”

  That made the big security officer blush.

  “This is Fredo, you remember?”

  “Ah, yes, the wrestler.”

  “Mark here, he’s newer. Along with our young Lieutenant Jones, and Nick. Back there ogling the girls are Tyler and Rory.”

  Moshe shook their hands. Cooper threw his arm over Sanouk’s shoulders. “And this here is our friend Sanouk, our bud Gunny’s son. Came all the way from Thailand.”

  “Nice to meet you, son,” the Israeli said.

  They all left out the part about spreading Gunny’s ashes at sea. That was a strictly need-to-know factoid. They had it mixed with the strongest potpourri they could find so they could get it through security. Kyle had told Mark he’d hoped Gunny would forgive him eventual
ly.

  People around them were impatiently trying to get by the bottleneck, so the group retired to the side and finished their introductions.

  “So you’re doing security on cruise ships now?”

  “It’s what I do.” Moshe nodded.

  “How’s the family?”

  “She took the kids and moved to New York, my friend, so I need to do a little bit of wandering at sea, if you know what I mean. This is a good job when you no longer have a family to come home to.”

  Mark was saddened by what the Israeli told them. It happened to Team guys all the time. Coming home to a pregnant wife in love with someone else. He could never understand why someone would give up on a guy when he was putting his life on the line somewhere in a shithole of a place, but it happened. If Kyle knew him, then they’d worked together, trained together. Been there for each other, and would always be brothers.

  “Well, we’ll try to distract you a bit, but not too much, okay?”

  Someone from the line of tourists behind them started complaining, so Moshe stepped back, gesturing for them to go forward to embarkation.

  Looking over the railing while waiting for their turn with the ridiculous photographers—someone with a whale costume and a clown-like sailor girl in pigtails and freckles—Mark watched the containers loading. Large white storage bins were loaded by forklift. Several pallets of water bottles wrapped together in plastic shrink-wrap were loaded. One of them leaked from underneath and, as it landed on the conveyor belt to the hull of the ship, gushed liquid all over the area.

  Standing above the ant-like activity, Mark was glad to see that the actual cruise preparations were more organized than the boarding process.

  Christy and the girls posed for pictures, but all the Team guys passed. They kept their shades on the whole time, and knew they would need to do it for most of the cruise.

  It didn’t matter how mopey the little clown sailor was, the answer was still no.

  They had booked cabins adjacent each other, all with large balconies off the aft. They dodged bags left in hallways as porters delivered to rooms and passengers found their bearings. They found their cabins at the end of the hall. Fredo and Jones shared a cabin, Mark and Sanouk were in the one next door, which adjoined, and shared a balcony. Next to them rounded out the rest of the bachelor group, Tyler Gray and Rory Kennedy. Mia was with one of Christy’s friends from San Francisco at the other end, with Kyle and Christy, Nick and Devon, Coop and Libby, and Armando and Gina between the two groups of singles.