Rock Hard Seal: A Navy Seal & A Virgin Romance

by Rye Hart

  Table of Contents

  Rock Hard Seal

  Historical Mail Order Bride Romance Collection

  Regency Romance Collection

  More Bad Boy Romance Stories By Rye Hart

  Biker Bad Boy Romance: Heart Off Limits

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  This is a work of fiction. While, as in all fiction, the literary perceptions and insights are based on life experiences and conclusions drawn from research, all names, characters, places and specific instances are products of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously. No actual reference to any real person, living or dead, is intended or inferred.

  Rock Hard Seal

  A Navy Seal & A Virgin Romance

  By: Rye Hart

  Table of Contents

  Rock Hard Seal

  Historical Mail Order Bride Romance Collection

  Regency Romance Collection

  More Bad Boy Romance Stories By Rye Hart

  Biker Bad Boy Romance: Heart Off Limits

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  Rock Hard Seal

  A Navy Seal & A Virgin Romance

  CHAPTER ONE – ABIGAIL

  “Hold on to your panties! This trip will be one to remember, and if all goes as planned you’re going to come back a whole new woman, Abigail Carter. I can promise you that. Heck you’ll probably have a hard time even walking straight after Madrid is through with you.”

  “Stop it, Libby.” A blush stained my cheeks when I looked over my shoulder to make sure no one around us had overheard. Luckily, the lunch crowd was loud enough to drown out most of our conversation. I turned back to look at Libby who shrugged her tanned shoulders. “What is wrong with you? Don’t say things like that out loud. You never know who's listening to us.”

  Libby rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Chillax’ girl! I think your Dad has made you a bit too paranoid and sheltered from all those bodyguards with sticks up their you know what. I’m just saying I want you to prepare yourself to let loose for once in your life and what better time than this trip to Madrid with your best friend?” Libby asked. She grinned at me. “Think of it this way. This trip is your first real trip unsupervised. We are going to have a damn good time, Abi. I’m telling you.”

  “I have no doubts that we will,” I replied with a grin. Excitement bubbled inside of me just thinking of it. Ever since I was five, I could remember a bodyguard always walking alongside me. Having a Dad who prosecuted terrorists on behalf of the United States government had a tendency to attract threats. Being the protective man my had always been, he took no chances when it came to the safety of my Mom and I. The bodyguards were always there.

  It wasn’t until I hit college that I realized, with aggravation, that most of these guards had a tendency to rely information about every small detail of my life back to my Dad. It made dating a bit complicated, since most of the male population at Harvard knew exactly who my Dad was. From day one, guys were terrified to even go anywhere near me. The burly and big muscled bodyguards didn’t exactly make for attractive accessories for a petite gal like myself to flaunt around. All I’ve ever wanted was to be normal for a change.

  Don’t get me wrong. I was always grateful for the hard work my Dad put into his career and constant efforts to ensure the safety and security of Mom and I; though, I would have given anything to just breathe a little. Growing up, that never really happened for me.

  Not this time though. A jittery feeling filled me thinking of it. This time, I was on my own finally. It was liberating.

  “Our postponed spring break,” Libby said, taking a sip of water. “At least we can do this before our jobs start up here in Manhattan.”

  “Thankfully,” I said. “I know my Dad too. He’ll give me cases that keep me too occupied to think of anything else.”

  “That’s why I’m telling you we are going to find a sexy Spanish man to please you over the next three months.” Libby sighed dreamily as she twirled a golden curl around her finger. “Three months in Spain is terribly romantic. Maybe I’ll find a Spanish lover too. Oh… what if we found brothers? How cool would that be?”

  “You will, but who knows about me. We know I’m not exactly a natural,” I said and gave Libby an envious look. She had killer tanned legs, long blonde curls, and looked fresh and put together no matter what time of the day it was. “You won’t have any problems attracting a Spanish man or any man for that matter. You don’t have problems in that department at all.”

  “Neither do you,” Libby said. “You’re gorgeous, Abi. They are going to eat you up over there. Literally!!” Her laugh was contagious, but it was lost on me. My thought threatened to consume me.

  I played with the ends of my hair nervously. I was the only one out of my circle of friends who had zero experience when it came to men. The last guy I had kissed was after a study session for my English Lit sophomore final. Naturally, the bodyguard at the time who followed me around reported that back to my parents. It was the awkward lecture afterward that deterred me from ever trying something again, though I thought about it all of the time.

  And now, at twenty-two years old, I was still a virgin and fucking terrified of sex. The only things I’d been exposed to came from living vicariously through Libby who gladly filled me in on tricks and such.

  I longed for it though— desperately. I was such a romantic nerd when it came to imagining my first time. Maybe on a bed covered in rose petals? I shook my head at the ridiculous thought. That wasn’t real. Most men, according to Libby, would do it anywhere you offered it. A bathroom? A closet? The back of a movie theater? Done.

  I smirked at the thought. What would it be like to give myself over to the heat of passion? Not giving two shits about where we were because I absolutely had to have him and he wasn’t willing to take no for an answer? My pulse sped up at the very thought.

  “We’ll see about that. That’s not my priority because this trip is all about our time together before we have to enter into the real world,” I said breathily, trying to pull my head out of the gutter and put myself together enough not to give away my secret desires. The real world sounded rather terrifying if I were being honest with myself. My father had moved and shifted every area of my life since I was a little girl, and now I would soon be on my own.

  An odd sense of relief raced through me, decimating the lingering fear. Where my father went after terrorists and horrible men in his practice, I wanted to do something totally different. I wanted to help brin
g justice to those who were hurt by an abusive parent or spouse, or maybe help set up protection for those who couldn’t do it themselves. Being in the legal system with my degree and my father’s last name was going to get me far in life, but not in the way he wanted it to.

  Where he was focused on rising to the top and stomping out crime, I wanted to offer my services to those that needed it the most but rarely had the ability to find it. He was going to shit bricks when the time came for us finally to sit down and talk about my future plans. No matter what though, I was heading in the direction of my heart. Money be damned.

  “Hey. You still with me?” Libby gave me a quirky smile.

  “Hmm? Oh yeah. Just thinking about our trip.” I ran my fingers through my hair and forced myself to focus back on her. “We’re going to go sight seeing right?”

  “Yes. Tons of that as well! I bought a polaroid camera to bring with us since neither one of us plan on using our phones, right?”

  “Right,” I said, nodding. “No Facebook, Twitter, or Instagramming our moments in Madrid. We are there to enjoy it. We’ll create memories in our minds.”

  “You got it,” Libby said. “Now, let’s—”

  My cell phone buzzed on the table between us, interrupting Libby. I glanced down at the caller ID. Groaning at the number, I looked back up at Libby apologetically. “I’m sorry, Libs. I’ve got to take this. You know how my Dad gets if I don’t.”

  “I know. He freaks out.” Libby rolled her eyes with a sigh. “I think he’s where you got all your paranoia.”

  I rose from our table with my phone in hand. “Just give me a minute. Order a chicken salad with no croutons and dressing on the side for me if our waiter comes before I’m back.”

  The small restaurant and patio were packed, but I managed to somehow squeeze my way out past the hostess station. While it was tempting to let my Dad’s call go straight to voicemail, I knew that he’d repeatedly call until I answered, or better yet, he’d send someone to look for me. That was always a fun encounter seeing that I was in my early twenties now. Everything suffered due to my Dad’s overprotective attitude. Especially my pathetic love life.

  “Hi, Dad,” I said, leaning up against a light pole. “What’s up? I’m out eating lunch with Libby right now, so—”

  “I’m glad I caught you both then,” he said, smoothly. “I need you to come into the office today. There is something that we need to talk about.”

  Suspicion filled me as chill bumps raced across my skin. Nothing ever good came from my Dad wanting to see me at his office. “About what?”

  “We’ll talk about it once you are here. Where are you exactly?” His tone was filled with a tension I’d become quite accustomed to.

  I rattled off the furthest restaurant I knew from my Dad’s office in Manhattan to spare myself some time with Libby.

  “I’ll expect you in an hour then,” he said. “See you in an hour.”

  Not phased by his shortness, I slid my phone back into the pocket of my pants. My Dad was never the type of person to waste any time on the phone with chit chat. His job made him curt and cold at times, but I knew my Dad loved both my Mom and I more than anything in the world. The money he spent on our protection was one of the many signs.

  I had no idea what my Dad wanted, but I didn’t plan on rushing over there to find out. I didn’t want to think about the dread growing in my stomach either.

  “What’d your Dad want?” Libby asked when I sat back down across from her.

  “I have no idea.” I shrugged and grabbed my water glass, taking a quick sip before pulling myself back up to the table. “I told him I was across Manhattan, so we have an hour to do some shopping after lunch.”

  Libby grinned at me. “See,” she said, swatting my hand playfully. “You’re going to do fine over in Spain. You know how to keep certain things a secret.”

  “I’ve had a friend to teach me a thing or two,” I replied with a grin on my face.

  We spent the next hour finishing up our lunch before hitting two stores. Libby hugged me goodbye through the shopping bags on her arm before hopping into her own cab. I told the cab driver to take the long way to Carter & Law. I needed the time to prepare for what my Dad wanted to talk to me about in the middle of the afternoon. He never called during the work days unless it was an emergency.

  Whatever it was, it wasn’t good, and I had a gut feeling the conversation wouldn’t end happily either.

  But at least I had my trip to Spain to look forward to, and nothing could get in the way of that.

  CHAPTER TWO - HARLEY

  It still felt fucked up to be in a crowd full of people going about their work days. After four months of retirement, I still couldn’t shake off the surreal feeling that it was over. All of those years being a killer, a death-dealer when needed, and here I was - a free man. Funny enough, being back in the real world left me feeling like a shit-storm was going to smack into me any minute. I felt like I was completely out of place.

  There was a time when I had a purpose and a strategy. Meticulously preparing myself and my men for battle – they were my brothers and I would have done anything for them. Death shadowed me everywhere I turned and it became the norm – but I never expected tragedy to strike from home. Finding out about Mom’s cancer screwed with my head and my mind started to unravel beyond my control. Fucked up dreams played my mind day and night - dicking with me as I walked around the dusty streets of the middle east. It was what it was, and I wouldn’t change a goddamn thing about it. My mom meant everything to me, and the decision became easy when I focused on her.

  I stood on the sidewalk in front of Logan’s downtown Queens office, realizing that the voices in my head had once again taken over. It was more like a run-down brick building on the corner of an abandoned lot that needed someone to cut the weeds down.

  I stared at the building with faint skepticism. For as much money Logan told me he made by employing bodyguards for the rich and famous, I expected a better building to conduct business. Cheap bastard.

  The front door opened, and Logan stepped out into the sunny afternoon with a grin. He waved me over from where I stood across the street.

  “Good to see you, bro,” he said, embracing me tightly. “It’s been what… two years now?”

  “Yep. Two long ass years,” I said, grinning. “I’d say nice place, but it’s not exactly what I pictured for a business like yours.”

  Logan glanced up at the cracked red brick building with a grimace. “I know. I’d like to move, but you know Jade is determined to live in Queens for the rest of our lives.”

  “At least fix it up,” I said. “It’s about ready to fall over, or collapse on your head.”

  “Do you have any construction experience you smug son-of-a-bitch?”

  “No,” I said, laughing. “Good point.”

  “All right then. Come inside.” He walked through the door, reaching back to hold it open for me.

  I followed him through the front office that smelled like cinnamon past a young female receptionist who smiled up at me as I passed by. The tight shirt she wore pressed against her tits, outlining beaded nipples. How the fuck Logan got anything done with her sitting up front was beyond me.

  “Who's the receptionist?” I asked when Logan shut the door behind me. I took a seat in front of a neatly organized desk.

  “Jade’s younger cousin,” Logan said.

  “I thought Jade was against the whole working with other women.”

  “It doesn’t count if their family apparently.” Logan grimaced as he took a seat behind his desk. “Don’t point out how bad that is. You don’t have a wife to deal with back home.”

  I held up my hands. “Backing off. What do you need help with exactly?”

  “I have a wealthy client who needs to hire a bodyguard for his daught—”

  “No,” I cut him off sharply. I shook my head when Logan opened his mouth again. “No, bro. I’m not going to chaperone some spoiled rich brat around. I
thought you needed help with something serious. I’m not into the babysitting business.”

  “I lied on the phone,” he said, plainly as he lifted his hands in what looked like surrender. There wasn’t much I wouldn’t do for the guy, but watching some rich twit for any length of time, even a few minutes, was fucking out of the question.

  “I wouldn’t be here if I knew you were going to pull this shit bro.”

  “That hurts. Just listen to the details of the job. It might change your mind.”

  “I doubt it,” I said, wryly. “How did you even end up in this business? Four years in the fucking Special Forces and this is where you ended up?”

  “I’m not happy about it,” Logan said. “Never said that it was sunshine and fucking daisies here, but I had a wife and a child on the way two years ago. I had to do something that wouldn’t risk my head getting shot at.”

  “Not saying that isn’t honorable, but damn, bro.” I sat back in my chair in disbelief as I clasped my hands over my stomach. “How did we end up like this?”

  “Too much death,” he replied, grimly.

  I looked down at my forearms. Four fucking years in the Special Forces meant watching death up close and personal. I couldn’t count how many times I’d watch the life leave someone’s eyes. I also couldn’t count how many times I was relieved to see it too. It seemed morbid, sick now that we were out, but in the heat of battle, it was what we were trained to do.

  Logan had gotten out of it the second he learned Jade was pregnant with their first child. At the time, we had lost two friends in a mission during the middle of the night. Too much death had a tendency to scar the soul in horrible ways. I didn’t blame him for ending up in a position with a business that didn’t involve guns, or terrorists wishing you were dead.

  I studied the names I had tattooed on my arms over the years. Every single one of them had covered my ass in battle. I never wanted to forget them, but the last name on the list had the deepest imprint on my soul.