SEAL My Home: Bad Boys of SEAL Team 3, Book 2 (SEAL Brotherhood Series 9)

by Hamilton, Sharon

  “You have a problem, Megan?”

  “I’m leaving.” Grant said. He turned to Rory, “New boyfriend? How nice for you, Megan. Rory, is it? You touch me again, and I’ll file assault charges against you.”

  “That won’t be necessary as long as you stay away,” Rory said in that unflappable air she loved about him. “You’re not one-tenth the bad guy I’ve dealt with. You heard her. She wants you to stay away.”

  The security guard added, “Why don’t I escort you out? Consider yourself unwelcome at this establishment from now on.”

  She could tell Grant was angry and feeling outmatched, which she knew was a lethal combination. But despite his efforts to shrug off the grip the security guard had on his elbow, he was escorted unceremoniously out the door into the afternoon.

  As the security guard returned, Megan looked at Rory’s determined face and knew he had questions.

  “Old boyfriend. Married. Doesn’t know the meaning of the word no.”

  He seemed to accept it.

  “You gonna be okay, Miss Palmer?” the guard asked.

  “I’m fine. I think I’ll ask for a break.”

  “If you want an escort home, I can arrange that.”

  “No. Really. He’s not that way. I think he’ll stay away now.” To Rory, she said, “Let me see if I can take a break.”

  “Fair enough. I’ll order you a cappuccino?”

  “Thanks. That would be nice.” She watched as he walked back to the shop. His gait looked painful.

  Megan’s supervisor approved the early break, and she found herself on a stool, holding a warm cappuccino in a brown ceramic cup between her fingers. The creamy foam was delicious.

  “Sorry if I inserted myself in there, but we’re being extra careful these days,” Rory began.

  “I don’t feel you’re butting in where you don’t belong. It’s not like we’re strangers.” She felt her cheeks flush. Just looking at him made her heart race in spite of everything she was trying to tell herself. She couldn’t tell him she liked that he cared enough about her to barge in.

  “I’m going to level with you a little about Lindsay’s fears. I’m glad she didn’t reveal anything, but I think it’s time you knew a little about what’s going on in the community.”

  “Okay.” She knew it was going to be bad news, but she was thrilled he wanted to tell her anyway. It was significant to her that he wanted her to be part of their community news and knew this wasn’t done without a great deal of thought.

  “We’re all being extra vigilant. Not sure if you’ve seen the news, but the guy that caused my accident was kidnapped and forced to pay some ransom.”

  “But what could that possibly have to do with you?” Megan wrinkled her brow.

  “Well, he might be my dad.” Rory couldn’t figure out any other way to say it.

  “That was your dad?”

  Rory nodded. “Not verified, but maybe. At least the kidnappers found out Corrigan believed he’s my dad, and they didn’t think to question the information.”

  “Rory, they said he was a billionaire. Big guy from New York. He’s your dad?”

  “Well, we’re working on that. But possibly so. For now, he’s safe, and that’s all we know at this point. But the guys who did this are still out there.”

  “Oh, my God. Rory, you should have told me.”

  “Been a little busy.”

  “As in you were involved in the rescue?”

  “No comment. Not allowed. But here’s what you need to know. We have to, all of us, be careful. You aren’t to tell anyone about this, okay? We don’t know who we can trust. Somehow, they got to him at the hospital. But I was there too. They got to him and got the information to contact me with the ransom demand, so it’s only a matter of time before they get to me as well.”

  “That’s awful. You must be so stressed.”

  Rory looked directly into her eyes. “No, Megan. I’m built for this. They can’t take anything away from me more than I’m willing to give. If I died tomorrow, it would not be a problem. I’m going to defend our way of life and the brothers on my team, no questions. No hesitation.”

  “Why do I get the impression there’s a ‘but’ in there?”

  “Our families might be in danger. That’s the long and the short of it. We’re leaving town for a few days. But you might be in trouble for associating with me. And I just couldn’t live with myself if that happened.”

  “Okay. What does that mean?”

  “I came to say goodbye for a few days. Don’t want you to worry, but I want you to be extra careful. You call me if something strange happens, you got it?”

  Megan’s heart sank.

  “How long will you be gone?”

  “I can’t say. More than a couple days. But we don’t really know.”

  “So if you guys are gone, who’s going after the bad guys?”

  “We have to rely on the locals, in coordination with the Feds. But we’re strictly low profile, off the grid as it were. We don’t want to get involved in any of that. Up to them to do what they’re trained to do. As far as we know, none of us has ever met any of these guys. It’s probably a homegrown terrorist cell working independently and just mucking around. They got some money, but they didn’t get the big trophy kill. We think they’ll be looking for that, or at least that’s what our Chief has said.”

  “Do you think they know about the families?”

  “No. We don’t. If we did, we wouldn’t be leaving. But I’m telling you as a precaution.”

  Megan moved her hand over Rory’s and was warmed as he clutched her fingers between his and kissed her knuckles. His eyes scanned her lips, sending a smile to his. She didn’t want him to go.

  “You leave today?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Then we have tonight?”

  “Not wise, Megan.” His grin belied his true feelings.

  “So the others aren’t with their families tonight?”

  “No, they are. But we’re, I mean—”

  “You got to say goodbye. I want to say goodbye in my own way,” she said as her pulse quickened. The electric charge between them was undeniable. She moved her knees so they clutched his left knee, entwining her ankle around his. “Please, Rory.”

  “You work until five?”

  “I just got sick.”

  Rory smiled. “You look pretty damned good for sick.”

  “I dare you to kiss me.”

  “Honey, I intend to, but somewhere I won’t get you fired.”

  Megan’s supervisor released her for the day, while giving a stern look at the two of them. Rory followed her to the parking lot and followed behind as she began the trip home.

  Her emotions were swimming. The closer she got to her bungalow, the more her heightened libido turned all the colors of the traffic, the passing scenery and the sounds of the late afternoon into a cacophony that overwhelmed her. Her heart was pounding in her ears, her panties became wet as her cheeks flushed. Her throat was parched and her breathing deliciously strained. Her mind played visions of their lovemaking in the past, the way his hands and his body played hers. She’d forgotten how much she needed this communion.

  She led him to her front door, inserted her key, ready to open it. He stood so close that as she brushed by him she felt his hardness. His soft groan made her giggle. He pulled her arm back, laced his hand through the back of her head and pulled her to him, kissing her hard, demanding she yield to him. His hands roamed over her ass and up under her shirt. He deftly undid her bra and she felt her breasts release to his palm.

  “We shouldn’t do this here,” she whispered and was thrilled it made not one bit of difference to him. “Rory, don’t undress me here. I want privacy.”

  He stopped and smiled, their foreheads pressing against each other. “And I want you.”

  Before the door slammed shut behind them he had her top off and had begun working on her slacks. She stepped out of her shoes as he bent her over and slid her
pants down her thighs, pulling her back against him, rubbing the cleft in her rear against his erection.

  Naked, she turned and began unsnapping the blue denim shirt he wore, one snap at a time, kissing his chest after each new tiny reveal. He lowered his head to her breasts and bit her nipples, and then squeezed them. After toeing out of his shoes, she undid his button fly and he stepped out of his jeans.

  Her fingers found his warm arousal in his boxers. She squeezed his balls and slid the elastic waistband down his hips. His body against hers, his shirt open but still on, he picked her up and carried her to the bed.

  Their hands mated on the pillow at the sides of her head, pinning her down. “God, how I’ve thought about doing this over and over again, Megan.”

  He arched up, pressing his upper torso into her breasts, still holding her wrists together and slipped his knees under her thighs. With one arm underneath her waist, he raised her pelvis, positioning himself for a full entry.

  She’d been watching the way his arms rippled, the sinews of his massive shoulders, and the veins extending down his inner arm, past his elbow to his forearms. She wanted to touch him, but his restraint heightened her pleasure as she struggled against him and he held firm. His kisses to her neck and the heavy groan in her ear brought her passion to a full boil.

  “I want to touch you,” she whispered, her eyes closed. She could feel the head of his penis at her opening.

  “Megan, look at me.”

  When she did, he plunged in, sliding fully inside her to the hilt. She gasped as his girth split her in two. He angled and rocked back slow at first, then increased speed until he was pounding her into the bed. If she looked away, he turned her head so they were staring into each other’s eyes as he plunged in repeatedly. Her cries were muffled as he pressed his lips over hers and drank from her scream. He began a slow rhythmic motion, building and playing to the orgasm now building, overtaking her.

  He suddenly stopped, her sex quivering with need. He continued to hold her down, kissing her chest and her neck. His powerful hands then gripped her hips, grinding her up and down on his shaft as she bent back like a bow. He rocked her pelvis back and forth, rooting deep, thrusting upwards. Her orgasm triggered fully, exploding into waves of pleasure. Megan’s internal muscles held and milked him as he undulated his hips, stopping once with a wince. She waited a few delicious seconds before he resumed, clutching at her flesh with his fingers, forcing himself inside her and pressing her down on him until they were both spent.

  He collapsed on top of her.

  She could barely breathe but she didn’t care. Her fingers lightly slipped down his spine, feeling the sweat now pooling between the mounds of hard muscles on his back. Over his smooth buttocks, she lightly trailed her right hand onto his thigh. Her left fingers were entangled in his hair, twirling it back and forth. Staring at the ceiling, she embedded everything she was feeling right now into her memory as she lay underneath this strong warrior, just in case this didn’t last forever.

  She rubbed her thigh against his, scooting to the side, allowing his left side to fall into the bed. But they were still joined, he’d made sure of that. Now with her leg up over his hip, his face close to hers on the pillow, she traced his lips with her forefinger. He was watching her carefully, but not saying a word, as if he too was taking a mental picture of their joined bodies, the heat of their sweat, and the steady rhythmic breathing in the aftermath of their frenzied lovemaking.

  She placed her palm on his ear and cheek. She found words at last. “Sweet, Rory, if this is how you say goodbye, I’m dying to know how you say hello.”

  He smiled. “It’s better.” He leaned closer and kissed her. “Except for one thing.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “I haven’t finished saying goodbye.”

  Chapter 28

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  Moustafa knew he would find the woman at work, but he hadn’t seen the man until he nearly tripped over him at the coffee shop. He cursed under his breath at his lack of attention. She was delicious to watch, so unspoiled and ripe to be defiled. His concentration had gotten soft as he’d gotten hard, and then the warrior was there with his fiery hair.

  He decided to stay behind the soldier, so he slumped into a table with a newspaper covering it, watching their movements from his peripheral vision. He didn’t dare draw attention by attempting a picture as she joined him. Moustafa looked up briefly when her leg swung around his and they drew themselves together in that intimate way lovers did. The way he used to do with his beloved.

  When the warrior and his woman left together, he waited until they were outside before exiting the café. He crossed the street to his car as they both drove from the parking lot in single file. They weren’t hard to follow as the warrior let the woman lead and she was a slow driver. They traveled through familiar neighborhoods, since he now knew the route to her property. He knew that they’d be occupied for a time at her place having sex. He parked on the street across from her driveway and in the shadow of a large tree was able to take some photographs of them kissing and then entering her front door.

  The neighborhood was quiet. It was before commute hours, so other than a stray dog bark and an airplane overhead, he heard no noise and didn’t see anyone outside.

  The late afternoon was warm, and soon he fell asleep with the driver’s window down.

  “Excuse me, but are you in trouble?” The dark glasses of the San Diego policeman reflected his astonished face in their lenses. He’d been startled awake. A lump caught in his throat as he wondered if the warrior’s friends had caught him.

  “Oh. So sorry. I must have fallen asleep.”

  “You don’t live around here?”

  “No, I live near downtown. I’ve been studying for final exams and got sleepy and didn’t want to drive, so I took a little nap where I didn’t feel I’d be disturbed. I was just leaving.”

  “You do that,” the officer responded. He was looking inside the car for anything he didn’t like. Moustafa hadn’t brought a weapon except for his antique pocketknife of his grandfather’s. He had his student visa and I.D., but didn’t want to wind up on any report. So he boldly asked if the officer wanted to see his driver’s license.

  “Nah, not necessary. Where you go to school?”

  “San Diego City College. I am majoring in Journalism.”

  “Okay, well you run along. We don’t like people loitering in their car on public roads. You sure you’re okay to drive?”

  “Yes, officer. I’m quite well. Thank you.” Moustafa adopted the friendly attitude of a harmless student, smiling, and starting the ignition while rolling up his window. He’d planned to follow the warrior to his home, but didn’t want to take a chance at being found again, so he headed to the Islamic Center for evening prayers. He was confident this time he would find the young soldier at the girl’s cottage in the morning.

  On the way, he used one of the new phones the teacher gave him last week to dial one of the two new recruits. He was going to suggest that they meet after Maghrib.

  On the other end of the line, the recruits chattered like birds on a fence, interrupting each other by grabbing the phone away. They’d located a new prospect, a young Ethiopian student from their Arab Studies group on campus. The teacher had offered a $500 bonus to each of them for every new recruit they found.

  “Moustafa, we thought perhaps he could join us in the training next month.”

  “Shh. We don’t talk about that on the phone.” The three of them were to travel to a training camp in Oregon, where the young recruits would learn to shoot a gun for the first time. They would also undergo hand-to-hand combat training from the teacher from Afghanistan, a former military man trained by the Special Forces, who was to arrive within the next thirty days. The recruits were excited. Moustafa wasn’t sure they understood what would be required of them in the months ahead after they’d completed their training.

  “Bring him tonight to the Center. Afterwards, we will
eat and discuss all these things.”

  He hung up, and changed his clothes in preparation for Maghrib. Though he was purified and he wore clean clothing, he could not put the vision of the woman’s smooth backside he had photographed out of his mind. All along the short route to the Center, he would attempt to give himself to The Prophet, even as he was planning to make her his gift of blood sacrifice to be witnessed by the bearded man who was now fucking her.

  God is great.

  Chapter 29

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  Rory had gotten Kyle’s text at two in the morning and softly broke the news to Megan that he was going to have to leave. They’d only just managed to fall asleep. She welcomed him again to her arms. He was losing himself in her, feeding off the need in her soul. The intensity of their lovemaking left him begging for more.

  But he had to leave.

  “Megan, I’ll be back in a few days, I promise.”

  She sat in the bed, knees to her chest, the sheets pulled up to her neck as she watched him dress in the moonlight. He didn’t dare look down at her too long, or he’d shed his clothes and take her again.

  “Be very careful. Watch who calls you, who comes by, and make sure you take that guard’s offer to follow you home if you get spooked about anything. Remember—” he said as he watched her lean back and remove the sheet from one of her luscious breasts, “Remember—,” he couldn’t concentrate because she had squeezed her left breast and her right hand had delved under the covers where it was buried between her legs. Her knees were raised and she arched backward in a long moan. He knew what her fingers were doing.

  Damn.

  He quickly kicked off his shoes and slipped his pants down, leaving his shirt on. He threw open the sheets to find her two fingers inserted into her slit as she writhed before him.

  He buried his face in her crotch, nosing aside her fingers, biting the lips of her labia, and lapping at her wet core. She groaned again, lifted her leg up over his head and flipped herself over, presenting her sweet ass to him on all fours.