Nashville SEAL: Jameson: Nashville SEALs

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Nashville SEAL: Jameson: Nashville SEALs Page 7

by Sharon Hamilton


  “Miss Charlotte, you must come back. Lilly will be an even better playmate then. She’ll show you all kinds of things about the winery and the gardens.”

  “Okay.” Charlotte got shy and buried her face in Jameson’s leg before he picked her up. She wrapped her arms around his neck and played with the collar of his shirt.

  Nick gave Lizzie a big hug,” You come on back when he goes overseas. You and Charlotte are welcome anytime. He patted Charlotte’s back. “You were a trooper. Thanks for taking such good care of Lilly.”

  Charlotte buried her head further until Jameson tickled her, and they all heard her giggle.

  “Thanks, man,” Jameson said, extending his hand. “Judging from how well all this went, I’d say we’ll be frequent visitors.”

  “No problem.”

  The announcer gave the call for their flight to board. The small airport security screeners were empty, so the three of them slipped through, waving on the other side. The propjet was several yards away from the terminal. A brisk warm wind struck up as they mounted the portable stairs to the cabin.

  Charlotte was supposed to be a lap child, but the plane wasn’t full, so Jameson took the seat across the aisle, and although Charlotte protested, she sat obediently next to Lizzie. He loved the fact that Charlotte had shown preference for him lately, making up for lost time. He also loved the fact that Lizzie didn’t appear to be jealous.

  His daughter reached over the aisle to hold his hand. “Charlotte, honey, the attendants have to go up and down the aisle, so we can’t do that very long. But I’ll hold your hand until then, okay?”

  “Okay, Daddy.”

  Immediately an attendant was in front of them, frowning. “I’m so sorry, guys.” The handholding was over. Charlotte settled in against her mother. Jameson looked at his two beautiful women, as his chest filled with pride.

  When they were in the air, he adjusted his seat and heard the words to his song, She’s Got My Eyes. The melody bounced around his brain, bringing a smile to his face as he drifted into a deep sleep he sorely needed.

  Jameson checked in with Sr. Chief Collins at Coronado as Kyle had instructed to make sure all his paperwork was in order for his first deployment. The small office was sparsely decorated, but something was new. He had a green frog statue holding a surfboard sitting above the military green letter-sized three-drawer file cabinet.

  “Is this the legendary one from Gunny’s?”

  “No. That one is a shrine to the old fart. I doubt Amornpan will ever let it out of that case. And now that she and Timmons are an item, well, it’s only fitting, right?”

  “I believe you’re right, sir.”

  “It would take an earthquake,” he knocked on the back of his wooden straight-backed chair, “to dislodge that damn thing.”

  Jameson eyed the creature, then Collins’ face, and then back at the frog.

  “I can see Kyle didn’t tell you. The wives felt sorry for me and they bought it. Christy and her group of lovelies. And now I live in mortal fear I’ll have the same luck Timmons did.”

  Jameson stifled a guffaw.

  “What’s that, son?”

  “Well, knowing Christy, I’ll bet she got a hell of a deal and already bought its replacement.”

  Collins looked up at the tall green frog admiringly. “I suppose you’re right. All the same, I’m getting some super glue just to make sure.”

  “So, I’m good to go then? Don’t want to have any snags at the end. I’m ready to jump in.”

  “You young married guys—can’t figure you out. Why go to all the shit places in the world, getting chafed, shot at, for little or no pay, when you got a nice little wife and daughter at home. You’re one in a million, Jameson. Usually this is a single man’s game.”

  “Hell, sir, I just dig jumping out of airplanes at midnight.”

  “I know, I know. Heard it before. Just to see if I can do it. Kyle tells all you guys to answer that question the same way.”

  “It’s that and the Brotherhood, sir.”

  “You can’t say that. You barely know them.”

  “Trust me, sir, I’m a good judge of character. You forget what I used to do. I’ve been able to sort out the drunks from the troublemakers, the sinners from the saints. The ladies with claws from those with nice loving hands and smooth lips. And I didn’t have to see them nekked to determine that.”

  Collins had himself a laugh that wouldn’t quit until he got one of his coughing spells.

  “You okay, sir?”

  “Can you give me another ten years cancer free, son?”

  “Sorry about that, sir.”

  “Sorry about what? I didn’t tell you nothin’.”

  “Roger that.”

  Collins sat back and perused Jameson one more time. “You sure? You had a nice life. Pretty good guitar player from what I hear. You tell me you never miss it?”

  “Ask me that in ten years. It’s too soon, only been less than two years since I gave all that up.”

  “No old girlfriends chasing you across country?”

  “All the girls worth having would never chase, Sir. You know that, don’t you?”

  Collins got that far away look. “Yes, I do.”

  Jameson knew the talk was over. Collins would be preparing a readiness report for the head shed. Everyone knew that was the real purpose in checking in.

  “Thank you, sir.” He knew Kyle’s guys never saluted unless they had to. He stretched out his palm and Collins gave it a tug, and then pushed him away. At the doorway, Jameson heard the Chief add a comment.

  “You met Zak, of course?”

  “Yessir,” he said as he turned around, wondering what this was about.

  Collins tapped his eye. “First deployment. You be careful now. Don’t do anything stupid.”

  “Roger that. Although, if it’s all the same, I have to tell you Zak is quite satisfied being the pirate and living the winery lifestyle with Amy. He traded his Trident in for a patch.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, son.” Collins adjusted his belt, pulling it up over his enlarged belly, which had already grown an inch since Jameson came on the Team. “He’s still got the Trident. He’ll still serve, if he’s called. Just ask Alex. The guy can shoot one-eyed with his non-dominant side better than most championship shooters. You remember that. He trains every day, I hear. He might be detached, but he’s still a SEAL, and if called on, he’ll do his duty. You all will. No matter the age, or the disability. Just ask the old guys around here.”

  “Thank you, sir, for the reminder. And my lovely bride and daughter thank you too.” He pivoted out the doorway and down the vinyl tiled hall. He hadn’t been nervous before, but this talk with Collins had him shook.

  Elvis was singing in the background.

  “Shut the fuck up,” he whispered to the King.

  Elvis complied.

  Chapter 10

  ‡

  Jameson was sent to Reno for some desert training, along with the rest of Kyle’s squad. They trained with a drone contractor who brought some new versions, which were smaller and quieter than the older ones some of the SEALs were proficient using. Some of these new ones were not only good for surveillance, but could drop a small bomb or diversionary explosive device if necessary.

  Coop was all over the new minidrone that could fit in the palm of his hand. Jameson halfway expected the big SEAL medic would try to steal it, as it would be easy enough to just slip the thing in his pocket.

  Controller units were flatter and more responsive, but the size of the screens and the keyboards remained the same for ease of use in the field.

  They also practiced with their upgraded .50 Cal guns mounted on the backs of customized Hummers that could travel close to one hundred miles an hour. They were required to hit moving targets as the Hummer traveled obstacle courses, weaving from right to left and stopping on a dime. Jameson had trained on these before, but this weekend they used more ammunition than most Marine platoons used in six
months.

  Next they headed for Alaska. Jameson barely had chances to call Lizzie. And if Charlotte was awake, she monopolized the call. Lizzie was patient. They texted frequently.

  They returned home for their last ten days before deployment. Lizzie planned a trip to Sonoma County with Charlotte after Jameson’s departure. The winery deal seemed even more solid than before. Jameson was put in charge, as a non-paid consultant, of the tasting room hall sound system, working by email with a local architect they’d contracted for a share of the winery. They designed a large room with glass doors that accordioned open, so for summer night venues a group could not only play to the audience indoors but those sitting outdoors on blankets. The venue excited him so much that he even began picking at his guitar again, and he began writing a couple new songs that just poured out of him.

  The nights, after Charlotte was bathed, kissed and tucked in, were magic with Lizzie. Knowing they had limited time until his departure, they made every night count. His body caught fire whenever she touched him. Once or twice he caught her crying but pretended not to notice. He loved her for her missing him even before he left.

  With a week to go, he got a call from Thomas.

  “Jameson. I caught a break. I’ve been wined and dined, and I’m signing a record deal tomorrow.”

  “That’s bad luck to talk about it before the ink’s dry.”

  “Nah. I don’t believe any of that.”

  Jameson heard laughter in the background and an announcer calling out. “Where are you?”

  “I’m at the Halfway. You wouldn’t believe what kind of luck I’m having these days, Jameson. Your kind of luck!”

  “Well, I never had that kind of luck. You’re the one with the record deal, or almost a record deal, that is.”

  “No, hell with the record, the ladies. They’re all over me. A lot has changed in the two months since I’ve seen you.”

  Jameson thought about what it was like, in what seemed like years ago. The gentle knock at the door, and, after checking them out through the peephole, it was either, “Honey, I’m just dead tired tonight. Maybe another time?” or, “Come on in,” if they were fine. He shuddered to think about all of the faceless bodies he’d bedded, the daughters he’d turned down to be their first time by mothers who wanted their first to be an experienced, loving man. Even that justification didn’t work with him. He thought about the divorced, lonely women he used to think he brought pleasure to. The husbands who actually offered to pay him to pleasure their wives in a way they could no longer do or in ways they never had—because they loved them. It was a crazy time in his life.

  And it had robbed him, or nearly robbed him, of his soul.

  After his few days with Lizzie at her parent’s horse farm, he was forever looking for her in crowds. Hers was the face he wanted to see again. And without Charlotte’s help, he probably never would have. Would still be bedding ladies, sometimes more than one, every night.

  So, good for Thomas. His older sidekick had stood idly by while Jameson had all the “fun.” Except it wasn’t fun. None of it was really fun after he realized what he was giving up. His desire to please, to entertain, to be the big star they thought they were making love to, the need to stroke an insecure young man’s ego bent his antennae to the source of magic and power of his soul. But all that got him to where he was today, and for that he was grateful.

  “Jameson, you listening?”

  “Yea, Thomas. I’m happy for you, man.”

  “So you gotta come out here. We’re having a big pre-launch party at the Halfway tonight but Friday, we got a spot at the fuckin’ Starwood Arena, Jameson.”

  “Holy cow.”

  “Brings back memories. You opened for Garth a few years ago, remember?”

  “Hard to forget that one. Well, good for you.”

  “I’m opening for Sonny Brown. That new kid from Calgary. They said I could bring you. Hell, they said they wanted to see you, man! You gotta be here. I owe it all to you.”

  “No can do, Thomas. I’m leaving in a week for who knows where.” He knew, but he couldn’t let on.

  “A week? Then you can come out this weekend, right? Like I said, concert’s Friday night. Big one too, all the record dudes. Some of these guys you know, man. Polish up your songs. There could be some money in it for you. Wouldn’t it be great if they offered you some green? Might be the easiest sale you ever made, man. Or be a good time to say goodbye, leave the door open in case you change your mind about your career and everything.”

  “I’m not going to change my mind. Besides, I’m married.”

  “So how many married country stars are out there? Lots.”

  “Ask me how many of them are successfully married. Thomas, I gave up all that. It isn’t my lifestyle any longer.”

  “Well, shoot. Here I thought I was doing you a favor, a little payback. Thought you could use some extra cash. You got some good songs, Jameson. What if they wanted to buy a couple off you?”

  Jameson knew it was a long shot. And these things took time, had to be approved and reviewed by layers of execs. He’d be all the way over in Africa before any of that panned out.

  “Remember Conrad Wilson from Sony?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “He specifically asked about you. Look, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll pay for the ticket. You fly out here Friday morning, and I’ll have you back on the plane Sunday morning. You can get up on stage with me Friday and Saturday nights, and then go get your ass shot off and know you at least gave your singing career one last chance. I’ll pay for everything. Won’t cost you a cent.”

  “I can’t, Thomas. I’ve got other obligations now. It isn’t just up to me. Why would I blow the last weekend with Lizzie to come out there so I could be fondled and gyrated against, and for what? A chance at something I don’t even want anymore?”

  He inhaled as Lizzie came up behind him, opened her robe to her naked body and leaned over him, rubbing her breasts against his shoulders and upper back. She began kissing him slowly down his spine, one vertebra at a time. He heard her cooing and sighing. This was the life for him now. And he was damned lucky to have it.

  “Answer’s no, Thomas. Best of luck, though.” He croaked as Lizzie’s skilled fingers found his shaft and began to massage him, tugging on his balls. “Thanks for asking, though.” He slipped his arm around her waist, moving her to his front. She straddled his lap, and pushed the robe down off her shoulders, where it fell on the floor at their feet. Her breasts were always a sight to behold. Her nipples began to pucker. He bent down and didn’t want to cause noise, so gave her a tender nip, which caused her to jump.

  “Your funeral. Well, I gotta go. There will be some disappointed folks here.”

  He hung up without saying goodbye. She had the fly open on his boxers and was kneeling down on him, her blonde hair glistening all over his lap in the early morning sunlight.

  When she came up for air, his dick was hard and desperate to be seated home, and deep at that. Her pink lips, in contrast, were soft and pliable. She purred like a kitten as she placed her perfect pink cavern over his cock that was protruding from his red, white and blue boxers. He rubbed the length of her sex, looking to get snagged on her opening. And then he was in. Deep.

  They looked at each other as he pressed fully inside her. She closed her eyes, savoring the feel of him. When she opened them again, he helped her move up and down on him, giving her long sweet strokes, pressing on her nub in the process. Her arms rested on his shoulders as she worked her muscles, pulling him inside her, working hard like the pretty little thing she was.

  “So what was that about, sweetheart?” she said through her gentle mewling sounds. Her breath was soft and warm against his ear. “Tell me, sweetheart.”

  All he could think of was getting her back to the bed for a proper lovemaking session and be quick about it so they would not be interrupted when Charlotte got up.

  “Thomas,” he said as his tongue plunged in and out of
her mouth. He followed up with nibbling down the side of her neck, reaching her areolas, first one and then the other. His hands squeezed the flesh on her fine ass as he sucked her into little stiff peaks of pleasure. He loved maneuvering her body up and down on him, having her breasts bounce and rub against his chest.

  She rocked back, arms around his neck, elbows squeezing her enormous breasts together, engorging his dick and allowing him to root deeper. But he liked to fuck those tits too. He inhaled with a hiss as he watched their firm flesh, wet with his own kisses. He dove into the valley between them, burying his head as his cock rammed deep.

  Her fingers pulled his hair back as she kissed one eye and then the other. Her mouth made the perfect puckered O as he ground his hips up, nearly lifting her feet off the floor.

  “You like that baby?” He whispered to her mouth.

  “You know I do, Jameson. Oh. My. God. You’re deep today.” She closed her eyes and gave him a little moan.

  “You bet. Every morning. I’ll be deep every morning for you, sweetheart. Now this is the way you start a new day.”

  She smiled, opening her eyes “You’re still trying to get out of telling me.”

  He had no idea who she was talking about, and then remembered his call with Thomas she had partially overheard. “Oh. Thomas.”

  “He has some news, then?”

  He didn’t want to break the mood by talking old business, things that didn’t matter to him anymore. But she’d already gone there.

  “Lizzie, sweetie,” his fingers laced over her chest, giving her appreciative squeezes. The sight of her soft white skin in his palms took his breath away.

  She knew how to get anything out of him. All it took was one tug on his balls again. “Tell me.” She gave him a devilish smile, filled with promise of a wonderful session this morning. “We don’t have a lot of time, but I’m gonna stop fucking you until you tell me.” Then she visibly softened. Leaning forward, pressing herself against his chest and rocking her hips on him, she said the words he could never resist, “Please don’t make me take it out. It belongs there, Jameson.”

 

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