Soren's Bondmate

by Mardi Maxwell

  He switched the knife to his left hand, using his right to shield the injured ribs, keeping his eye on his opponent. Basing his decision on the way he hadn’t reacted to Rowan’s words, except to growl and come closer, Rowan moved forward. A mistake, he realized a moment later, when he was within leaping distance and found himself with a two hundred-plus pound enraged beast on his chest. His knife flew from his hand. All the air left his lungs in a big whoosh, and then the large, gaping mouth that could easily enclose his entire skull, was heading straight for his throat. Rowan reached up with both hands, trying to stop the inevitable, but against the supernatural strength, he knew it was useless.

  Not willing to give up and turn his neck for the thing, he stabbed his thumbs into the beast’s eyes. Howling, the beast shook him off, but blood ran from the now empty right socket, making Rowan happy he’d at least caused it some damage.

  The last thing he saw was razor sharp teeth coming straight for his face. As he grappled with the leader’s head, he turned and felt the hot breath on his neck and then pain so immense he yelled out. Black dots swirled in his vision, and then the heavy weight was knocked off him. Rowan tried to get up, but his body wasn’t listening to his mind. The sound of fighting brought him out of the daze and or darkness trying to swallow him. He saw the woman holding his knife, her back to him in a fighter’s crouch, protecting him. From her posture, he could tell she was ready to kill. His nature wouldn’t allow him to lie there and let a woman fight his battles. With the last of his strength, he rolled to his knees. The fight seemed to have gone on for hours, when it could only have been minutes. The sound of a car coming down the gravel drive had all three of them looking in the direction of the noise.

  “Your days are numbered, bitch.” The leader scooped his two fallen buddies up in a fireman’s hold and tossed them into the still running vehicle, speeding away in a spray of gravel.

  “We gotta get you outta here.” His angel knelt next to him, her cool hand brushing his hair back. Rowan thought he would just lie back and let the darkness envelop him, but she had other plans. “Come on, big guy, I’m going to need you to help me. You’re way too heavy for me to carry.”

  Grunting was his only acknowledgement. What didn’t she understand about him wanting to lie down and rest?

  “Lava is running through my veins, darlin’. Find my phone and call 911. Find out why they didn’t send a car out when I called. That’s the only thing that’s gonna help me.” His voice sounded raspy to his own ears, and lacked conviction. He knew he was dying from the injuries he’d sustained and wondered how she was going to explain to the authorities what had happened.

  “Shit, you’ve been bitten. Fuck, fuck, shit.” She leaned forward and sniffed his neck, ripping his flannel and T-shirt down the front.

  On the verge of dying, Rowan was amazed to feel his dick harden when the woman licked at his wound, easing the pain. In the next instant, he nearly shot off the ground when her teeth sank into his already wounded shoulder. Instead of more pain, ecstasy rolled through him.

  Rowan grabbed the woman around the waist, uncaring about his injuries, making her straddle his thighs. The last time he’d dry humped a female was in junior high with a girl three years his senior. Like then, the girl on top of him panted and climaxed right along with him. Only difference was then, he could get up and get a towel to clean himself. Rowan wasn’t sure he could move, let alone get up. Clearly, his dick hadn’t gotten the message they were in danger, the way it still pressed against his zipper.

  “You two need to get a room for crying out loud.” A man’s laughing voice jerked him out of his musings.

  “Don’t move. Wait until he goes inside so he can’t see the blood on you.”

  Rowan didn’t want to tell her he didn’t think he could move even if he’d tried, so gave a brief nod and stared into her beautiful brown eyes. Her golden-blonde hair fanned them like a curtain, shielding them from others. He wondered what she’d look like spread out naked on his bed and had an answering jerk from his cock. Damn, the thing had never perked up quite so fast before.

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  About Elle Boon

  Elle Boon lives in Middle-Merica as she likes to say…with her husband, two kids, and a black lab who is more like a small pony. She’d never planned to be a writer, but when life threw her a curve, she swerved with it, since she’s athletically challenged. She’s known for saying “Bless Your Heart” and dropping lots of F-bombs, but she loves where this new journey has taken her.

  She writes what she loves to read, and that is romance, whether it’s erotic or paranormal, as long as there is a happily ever after. Her biggest hope is that after readers have read one of her stories, they fall in love with her characters as much as she did. She loves creating new worlds and has more stories just waiting to be written. Elle believes in happily ever afters, and can guarantee you will always get one with her stories.

  Connect with Elle online, she loves to hear from you:

  Facebook Profile Page

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  Boon’s Bombshells Facebook Group

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  Goodreads

  Other Books by Elle Boon

  Erotic Ménage:

  Ravens of War

  Selena’s Men

  Two For Tamara

  Jaklyn’s Saviors

  Kira’s Warriors

  Akra’s Demon’s, Coming Soon

  Shifters Romance:

  Mystic Wolves

  Accidentally Wolf

  His Perfect Wolf

  Wild Wolf, Coming 2015

  Paranormal Romance:

  SmokeJumpers

  FireStarter

  Berserker’s Rage

  A SmokeJumpers Christmas

  Mind Bender, Coming Spring 2016

  MC Shifters Erotic:

  Iron Wolves MC

  Lyric’s Accidental Mate October 20th, 2015

  Xan’s Fiesty Mate Coming Soon

  Contemporary Romance:

  Miami Nights

  Miami Inferno

  Miami Blaze, Coming Summer 2016

  Her Vigilant SEAL

  Midnight Delta Series

  Book One

  By Caitlyn O’Leary

  © Copyright 2015 Caitlyn O’Leary

  Chapter One

  January…

  “Lieutenant, you gotta let me carry him, you’re wounded.”

  “I’m fine. It’s just a scratch.” Mason knew he wasn’t holding his team back. Even while holding Jones’ body with a knife wound in his forearm, he could keep up with the rest of them.

  “We’re still six miles to the shoreline you can’t keep up at this pace.” Mason couldn’t believe Drake was serious as blood seeped through his own tourniquet. Stubborn fool.

  “Drake, when it becomes a problem I’ll make a different decision, until then, I’m carrying him.” They’d taken down their target. Six of Mason’s team of eight men had been together for over two years and Lou Jones was their first casualty. He hadn’t followed orders and it cost him his life. Didn’t matter, it was on Mason’s watch and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to be the one to carry him home.

  “Let me take him Mason, just for fifteen minutes.” He looked over at his second-in-command. Drake was out of his mind, he’d actually taken a worse hit to his thigh, and he was volunteering to carry a dead man.

  “Your job is to keep from bleeding to death,” Mason gritted out.

  “I’ve cut myself worse while shaving.” Drake flashed him a grin.

  “You shave your legs? Is there something you want to tell me?”

  He laughed, just as Mason known he would.

  “Somebody set us up, they knew we were coming.” Mason was beginning to feel the burn from the long run and carrying his load.

  “That’s my take too,” Drak
e agreed. “Seriously, let me take Jones’ body, I’m good for a half a mile, and you need to fall back a bit and check on the others.” Drake was right, Mason needed to check on the other six SEALs. They made the transfer and he slowed his pace so he could mix in with the other men.

  “I’m sorry I suggested you leave Jones behind earlier. I was wrong,” Ensign Steve Fairfax said. All of them were whispering as they ran through the jungle. Mason still had trouble believing Fairfax had first suggested it when his friend had been shot. All of the rest of Midnight Delta had been dumfounded.

  “Yes you were,” Mason concurred. Steve joined them a few months ago, and he’d been Lou’s best friend. Neither man had followed orders. Steve wouldn’t be with the team after this op. Mason felt a hand clap his shoulder and knew it was Petty Officer Larry Clark.

  “Mase, you okay?” His voice too low for Steve to hear.

  “I’m good, what about you?” Mason saw Larry had been grazed. Darius, the team’s medic, must have applied a tourniquet while they were at the compound where the raid went down.

  “I’m fine.” Larry grinned. “Nothing a little time in the hospital won’t take care of.” Mason shook his head. Larry was currently dating two different nurses at the naval base.

  “If you ever get caught this injury will seem like a walk in the park.”

  “I keep hoping neither of them will want to give me up, so we’ll have to settle for a ménage.” He winked.

  “I want to live in the wonderland that is your mind for just one hour. It must be nice to still believe in fairytales.”

  “What’s nice is all the tail.”

  Mason looked at his friend in amazement and Larry gave him a shit eating grin.

  Mason reached Drake and took Jones’ body again. Five hundred yards before they were going to break through the jungle to the beach everyone halted. Drake went ahead to the waiting Zodiac to make sure things were clear. A half hour later he came back shaking his head, and they huddled around him.

  “We’ve got tangos three in the trees waiting to pick us off, and we have four at our boat.”

  “We’re going to have to take them all at the same time,” Mason said. He and Drake outlined their plans. “No matter what happens we have to shoot at precisely five minutes after the hour. Remember, one SEAL, one shot, it’s a piece of cake.”

  They spread out according to their assigned targets. Mason looked at his watch, in five more minutes they would be in position.

  Mason heard the crack of someone stepping on a tree branch and then a shot rang out. Dammit! He knew his men weren’t in position. Mason already had his bogey targeted so he took him out and ran forward as fast as he could to the next tree. The man was still taking shots at the SEALs on the ground. Mason aimed carefully and took him out. The third man in the trees was at least a hundred yards to his left so he headed for the beach confident Finn would take him. Almost to the tree line that opened to the shore, he found Larry’s body covering Steve Fairfax. Fairfax was hit in the chest, and he was critical but trying to talk.

  “Save your breath, son,” Mason said calmly, trying to soothe the young man.

  “I’m sorry, Lieutenant.” Tears welled up in his eyes.

  “Not your fault.”

  “I shot too soon. Thought…” He gasped for breath.

  “Stop talking that’s an order. I need you to save your strength.” He pushed Larry’s body back on top of Steve’s chest, knowing it was the best option to compress the wound. He couldn’t shout for Darius, not yet knowing if the coast was clear or if the medic was under fire.

  Mason crept towards the beach hoping the lack of gunfire was a good thing. Finally he heard someone yelling his name.

  “I’m here!” Mason yelled. “I need Darius.” He pushed through the trees. The rest of the team were standing or bending over, but at least on they were all on their feet. Darius rushed forward.

  “Where are you hurt, Lieutenant?”

  “Not me it’s Fairfax.” Mason saw Darius’ lip curl before he masked his feelings.

  “Show me.” Mason took him to the spot he’d left Fairfax. They moved Larry, and Darius went to work on the ensign.

  “Mason, it doesn’t look good. We’ve got to get him on the boat fast.” When Mason looked up, he saw the rest of the team was already there. They picked up Larry’s and Lou’s bodies. Drake helped him and Darius carry Fairfax to the Zodiac.

  Finn was the last one in, he was carrying Larry, but he slipped and they both went into the water. Mason went over, plummeting into cold ocean water through the slick of warm red blood. He forced himself to get Larry’s body back onto the boat.

  “Mason, are you listening to me?” His arm was being yanked, and he saw Darius ripping the arm of his shirt.

  “What? It’s nothing. How’s Drake?” Mason looked around the boat. There were three bodies, how in the hell had that happened?

  “Mase, you need to listen to me. You’re going into shock.”

  “I’m fine, Dare. Go look at Drake.”

  “I already did. He wasn’t in the water. He didn’t rip his wound open even more lifting two hundred pounds into a boat.”

  Larry. How was the team going to function without Larry?

  “I’m doing great. I lived, Dare. I lived. Just tie it off, and we’ll wait ‘til we meet up with our ride, okay?” Mason looked his friend in the eye. Darius must have seen something, because he quit talking and just bandaged him up and left him leaning against the side of the boat, lost in sorrow and regret.

  Chapter Two

  February…

  Mason Gault paddled on this board in the Pacific Ocean, focusing on the pristine water of Moonlight Beach. He felt the swell, and hopped up onto his surfboard in a crouch like he was sixteen again. He stayed in place waiting, swaying, and then he was off like a rocket, sailing upwards, catching the mass of energy taking him into white and shiny water. He rode the wave for seconds, minutes, or maybe hours. Time had no meaning. Finally he went down and laughed as he bobbed back up through the surf, seeing the dawn sky.

  He surfed for a long while. He had come alone, like he had every day for the last week. He was still trying to get his head on straight from his last mission. He was doing all of the things the Navy thought was good for him, but nothing was better than these moments in the waves. Here he could breathe. Here there were no bullets, no blood, and no death.

  ****

  Sophia remembered when she had a sunny outlook on life. That’s why she came to Moonlight Beach at sunrise. She hoped she would get the spark to come back. Oh, she faked it for her mother, but she wanted to be that little girl again for real, the one who believed the world was a good place. She tasted the noodles in her cup. They weren’t warm anymore. She pulled the thermos of hot water out of her backpack and poured a little more into the Styrofoam container. She needed the hot meal, so she better eat it, after all breakfast was the most important meal of the day.

  Sitting on top of the picnic table, she sat on her pink blanket and huddled in her over-sized red sweater. Eating her noodles, she watched the surfer as the sun came up, wishing for things that weren’t meant to be. It was the fifth day in a row she and the surfer had been here. There were plenty of other surfers, but none seemed as frantic, as lost, or as lonely as she was. The fact she was projecting her emotions on to him just proved how close she was to losing it.

  Looking into her empty cup of noodles, Sophia realized she was still hungry. She smiled, it was her second smile of the morning. Of course she was still hungry, her stomach was constantly growling for three months now. But her mom’s medicine was more important than food. She looked to see if she could get a third smile before she left. Yes, there was a God! The surfer was coming out of the water carrying his board. She’d yet to see him with the wet suit unzipped, imagine how hungry she’d be then?

  Sophia hastily put the remnants of her meal into her backpack, folded the blanket, and headed for the parking lot. This little detour to Moonlight Beach
in Encinitas ate up an extra buck fifty in gas, but the way it soothed her soul was worth it, wasn’t it? She headed towards the compounding pharmacy to pick-up her Mom’s medicine, then went on towards the food pantry in San Clemente.

  “Sophia, you look pretty today.” Mr. DeLuca smiled at her. He pointed her to the smallest box of bananas that must have just come in. He grabbed the larger box and took them to the back area of the pantry.

  “Thank you, Tony, and you look very handsome today,” she said to the older man as she started to sort the fruit. Unfortunately only one third of the bananas would be fresh enough to go into the children’s lunches.

  “It must be the way I did my hair,” he said as he smoothed his hand over his bald head.

  “Quit flirting with Sophia, otherwise she might take you up on it and find out you stopped delivering twenty years ago,” Mrs. DeLuca called from the bread aisle. Sophia snorted. This was why she came here and donated her time. She originally started coming because they needed the food for her mother and younger brother, but after her mother became so ill and her brother got taken away this had become her refuge. She still brought home food from the pantry to feed herself and her mother, but at odd hours when her mother was resting she could now donate her time in return.

  She secretly loved that Tony always called her pretty. She knew she really wasn’t. Compared to most girls in Southern California she was plain. Oh, her long blonde hair was nice, but her face had a smattering of freckles, her nose was too wide, and her green eyes would have looked better if she was a brunette. Even at twenty-two she still didn’t have much of a figure. Now that she’d lost weight she kind of looked like a board. But Tony made her feel special.