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

by Hamilton, Sharon

  She didn’t get the reception she expected. People started scurrying into the bushes. One man whipped around as he stood to face her, his eyes wide in horror as he backed up and tripped over the log he’d been sitting on. He quickly scrambled to his feet, covered in mud and ran in the opposite direction.

  She watched as several others ran into the bushes or followed the first man toward the rustic harbor, cursing, and some yelling for her to stay away. A yellow dog barked at her, showing its fangs. Its owner gave up trying to get the dog to follow him and abandoned the mutt, fleeing off into the brush. Not a single soul came within thirty feet of her.

  She turned in the direction from which she had come and didn’t see any activity. Didn’t hear a thing.

  Her lungs heaving, she considered running further, chasing for help, but realized she was too weak and her feet hurt. On a stump by the roaring fire, she placed the computer out of the mud, and sat gasping for air as she began picking glass out of her soles. She found a water bottle nearby and washed what she could of her wounds quickly. She found a pair of discarded socks slipping them on her feet as she searched for the men with guns coming after her. She was prepared to run more, picked up the computer and began urgently looking for a place to hide.

  Then she heard the voice of her beloved. Rory was calling to her, screaming her name. As she stood, she saw him, one hand reaching to the sky, trying to get her attention. She ran as fast as she could toward him. He was running in her direction, and at last she slammed into his arms and they fell back in the mud, Rory holding her carefully above him. The computer was stuck between them, but she didn’t care.

  “Rory! I did it. I survived!” She was breathlessly trying to kiss him, climbing up onto his body, hugging him close, and tucking her head under his chin.

  “You did, baby. I’m so fuckin’ happy you’re alive,” he said as he squeezed her back, and then she sensed him stiffen beneath her.

  She arched back so she could look down into his face. Rory’s mouth dropped open, his brow furled as his eyes scanned her. She smiled and knew her smile was lopsided, but she didn’t care. She bent down to kiss him and he held her at arm’s length, scooting back on his rear and then standing up. She was left kneeling in the mud.

  “Rory, I got the computer. I didn’t forget.” She said as she extended the laptop to him. He stowed it quickly in his backpack, and seemed to reconsider his earlier move, leaning forward to give her a hand, but didn’t hold her body. His frown intensified as he wrinkled his nose, looked at her chest and the caked remnants of the bloody nose she’d had for two days. She watched him study her whole body, lighting over her waist and then moving down her thighs.

  “I’m okay, Rory,” she said, reaching out to the sides. “I’m alive. And I love you!”

  She was going to run into his arms again, but he was quicker than she was. “Rory? What’s the matter?”

  He was shaking his head, searching for something to say, taking a step backward with each step forward she was making. He looked down at her feet and she allowed her eyes to follow his. Her lower legs were coated in brown mud. Blood pooled between her toes into the dirty socks as she attempted to step closer to him and over a small puddle.

  With her glad heart beating loudly in her chest, she tilted her head and extended her arms again to him. “Rory, please.”

  Then it hit her. The terrible odor of the inlet and its decaying remains was enhanced by another familiar smell. Something she’d gotten used to in the small warehouse, but outside, the fresh light of morning sent something wafting up to her nostrils. Her legs were covered in human or animal feces and her pants stunk with the pungent odor of her own urine.

  And what her face must have looked like!

  At last, he relaxed and began to laugh.

  “Rory!”

  He could hardly contain himself.

  “Sweetheart, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in my whole life. I can’t believe what you did today.”

  Rory came over and before she could object, picked her up, one arm under her back and one under her knees. She felt light as a feather, swept her arms around his neck, snuggled her head under his chin, and giggled.

  What an apparition it must have been, she thought afterwards. The men on Rory’s Team looked at her as if she was a green alien from some strange planet. Normally very talkative, she didn’t hear them utter a word. Soon police cars, a fire truck, and three paramedic units arrived. One pair began working on her, examining her nose and her cheek amidst the backdrop of screaming from the injured young boys being treated by other personnel.

  She was given some warm towels to wash her face and hands. Behind a blanket, she was allowed to clean up and to get out of her filthy clothes. She put on a pair of hospital scrubs, was given a toothbrush and a brush for her hair. Rory stayed plastered to her side and getting in the way such that the paramedics had to ask him to leave the perimeter. And still he stayed right at her side. The rescue staff put her on the gurney for transport to the hospital. Rory jumped into the van and then searched and got Kyle’s permission to go with her.

  Her last memory of the scene was hearing the sirens as the other vans left ahead of hers. She watched the SEALs huddled behind one of two cars in front of the warehouse. They were pointing to something on the bumper of a vehicle without plates.

  On the right was a sticker that said Give Peace A Chance.

  On the left, beginning and ending with a Peace symbol, was the sticker that read Make Love Not War.

  Chapter 45

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  Rory was nervous about accepting Corrigan’s offer to spend the weekend at the Hotel Del, since he always paid his own way and didn’t consider himself a charity case. But Corrigan had rented a suite that must have cost the man more than Rory made in half a year. The room was filled with flowers too. He’d spared no expense. A platter of gourmet finger foods and cheeses was set on a silver tray. They had an iced bottle of champagne they’d already opened.

  Corrigan insisted he be allowed to drop by and promised he’d only take a few minutes of their time. With the mission completed, the SEALs cleared of any wrongdoing in the shooting of the terrorists, Corrigan and Megan successfully rescued and mending, there wasn’t anything that could dampen Rory’s mood. He figured he could give him just five minutes. And then no one would see either him or Megan for a week.

  He offered Corrigan a glass of champagne, and he declined.

  “I need something stronger,” Corrigan said and raided the minibar, downing one of the little bottles quickly. Megan joined Rory’s side and he tucked her as close as she could be. He knew for certain she didn’t have anything on under her white robe with the Hotel Del logo over the pocket, and her scent was driving him completely crazy. He discreetly let his bent right knee slip between the two sides of her robe at the hemline. He sure hoped Corrigan didn’t take too long.

  He noticed Corrigan was breathing heavily and wouldn’t look him in the eyes, and this concerned him.

  “What’s up? Something bothering you, sir?”

  “I’m afraid I have some bad news, Rory.”

  He could feel Megan’s body tense, matching his own.

  “Go on. Nothing I can’t handle today, I promise.” He knew he’d just told a complete lie.

  Corrigan sighed, took another deep breath and blew that one out as well. Rory braced for something hellish.

  “Rory, turns out you were right,” Corrigan said, completing it with a brief smile that quickly vanished.

  “Sir?”

  “Ah, fuck it, Rory.” He could see Corrigan’s chin begin to quiver, and perhaps the start of some tears forming.

  Rory broke Megan’s hold and went over to the man who was in obvious emotional pain. “Raymond? What is it?” He still had problems giving the man a hug, so instead placed his hands on his shoulders.

  “I’m not your father, Rory. DNA evidence proved it.”

  “But I thought—”

  “I don’t know
if it was even close, son. I don’t know why Tariq did what he did, maybe to distract me so I wouldn’t figure out what he was doing. But that blood test you gave before you went up to Alaska? Doc Thomas called me and gave me the news this morning. You’re someone else’s boy, Rory. Not mine.”

  That’s when Rory’s heart shattered. All the years he’d felt abandoned and alone, all the resentment he’d felt towards his parents, towards this man, who he’d begun to feel was his father after all, all of it crumbled. Here in front of him was a man who wanted nothing more in life than to be his dad. Who had nearly been killed for him. This man, at last, was his real dad, blood test or not.

  He grabbed the weeping man and held him so tight he expected to hear ribs breaking. “Makes no fuckin’ difference to me. I don’t have a dad and you don’t have a son. I’m applying for the job, if it’s still available…Dad”

  Standing on their balcony, with the view of the beach and the sunset in front of them, he was grateful for the generosity of his new dad. This luxury was the kind of welcome back to reality he wanted to bring Megan to for her first night out of the hospital, something he wouldn’t have been able to do on his own salary.

  Her eyes had recovered and her nose was still a little swollen and black and blue in parts, and her stitches wouldn’t come out for another week from the repair they made on her cheekbone. But, she was out of pain and happy and standing next to him with her arm around his waist, his around hers. And they were both naked beneath their white fluffy robes.

  It was as though she had always been there by his side. She belonged there.

  “I can’t promise you it will always be like this.” He turned to kiss her waiting lips.

  “I’m not worried. Just nice tonight. Nice being here with you.”

  “As a matter of fact, I can promise you it won’t be like this. But we’ll be together, Megan.”

  “I’m good with all that. That’s all I want, Rory.”

  “Corrigan is—”

  “Let him in, Rory. He wants to do the right thing. Let him be the father he always wanted to be. Accept his love.”

  “I got this far by myself. Now I got this guy wanting to buy me a car, a house, all this shit—sorry, stuff. I don’t really want all this.”

  “This is the only way he knows how to express love. Think of it this way, Rory, he never really had anyone either. You both found each other. You both found home—by accident!”

  “I hope he’ll let me take it slow.”

  Kyle gave him the bad news that he’d be skipped the next rotation so that his hip could properly heal. But he wasn’t scrubbed, not yet at least. Kyle had told him to get strong and didn’t want him taking chances doing the heavy workup and the jumps until he no longer limped or felt any pain. The x-rays had to show he was fully healed before he’d be allowed back in active rotation. He also told him not to expect he could remain active for too long, that the Navy knew he had a time limit. He might consider looking for another career eventually. They’d even suggested maybe he’d leave Team 3 and workup in six months with Team 5, but Rory wanted to remain with Kyle’s platoon. And that was yet to be decided.

  “You’re going to be busy, Rory.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your workouts, helping me heal. The time will go by fast, Rory. You’ll see.”

  “What if they cut me loose?” he asked. He was trying hard not to think about it too much, but every day the thought crept into his head.

  “I know you like to be prepared, but I say don’t think about it until you have to. Lindsay taught me that. We won’t dwell on what could happen and just live with what we’ve got. We concentrate on getting well. We get to do that together, Rory. Timing’s pretty good.”

  She was amazing, the way she looked in the sunset, the reddish golden highlights in her hair looking like angel thread.

  He set her glass down and took her in his arms. She fit nicely into him, a tight package, purring with desire he could feel all the way to his toes. He drew her face between his palms.

  “You want this life, Megan? You think you could do this?”

  “I want you, no matter what you do.”

  “That’s good, baby. Because that’s what I want too.”

  Her kiss was long and sweet. He pressed against her mouth and she whimpered, putting her fingers to her cheek. “Careful,” she whispered.

  “Oh, I intend to be careful.”

  He brought them inside, locking the door. The fireplace was not needed, but he liked the way it made everything inside the suite bounce in golden light.

  By the light of the glow, he peeled back the robe, shedding his in the process. Instantly the thrill of his thighs sliding under hers, the feel of her soft breasts and knotted nipples caressing his chest, the way she smelled under her ear—all of this was not anything he would ever take for granted or get used to. He knew he would always have a fresh lust for her, no matter how old they were, no matter how many years they remained together.

  He held the length of her body sideways, stroking the back of her neck and, kissing her puckered stitches over her cheekbone. He felt the softness of her back and buttocks as he brought her into his groin and pressed. He bent to take one nipple between his teeth.

  He slipped off the bed, knelt, kissed her belly button and then parted her legs to partake of her sex, snaking a tongue inside her opening as she gasped, her back arching, her hands clinging to his shoulders and her voice pleading with him not to stop. He took his time and he did it because it drove her wild for him. With his tongue deep inside her he felt her orgasm and feasted from her all through it.

  Her body was like putty, soft and pliable, matching all his rough contours with her smooth ones. Rory picked her up gently and lay her back on the bed, then climbed next to her and gripping her hips, and brought her on top of him. She arched again, writhing like a belly dancer, her arms reaching to the ceiling as his hands smoothed over her ribs to squeeze her breasts, then they traveled down to hold and to squeeze her buttocks. His fingers traveled up and down her cleft as he felt her move her wet sex against his hardened shaft.

  He lifted her and without saying a word she felt between her legs for him, guided him to the lips of her labia, and rubbed him against her body, her fingers and palm holding his cock so tight, he groaned with pleasure. He rutted in her moist groove until she angled her hips and he got snagged in her soft opening. She shyly watched his eyes, knowing that’s what he liked to do, watch her face as he entered her, seeing the pleasure that he’d helped to create. Then she shuddered as she settled down on him to the hilt and drew him in.

  He remembered that first time he’d made love to her. He vowed he’d never forget it, nor any of the times subsequent.

  She rocked back and forth on him, sat up and came back down on top of him, using her hands against his shoulders to brace herself. His hands squeezed her butt cheeks, helping her rise and then pulling her hips down against him hard.

  The rhythm began to build as he propelled his hips up into her. Her breasts bounced and he felt sweat run down her spine. Her long gasps told him she was beginning her orgasm, her muscles milking and spasming around him.

  He rolled her to the side while she was still in the throes of her orgasm, her hands flailing, and her flesh sensitive to wherever he touched, kissed or probed. Finding her from behind he began the rapid pumping motion again, sending her screaming into her pillow. He took her hard and deep and after several frantic minutes, her pelvis tented up to him, his cock swollen, bisecting her ripe little ass, he spilled deep inside her.

  Into the softness of her hair at the nape of her neck he collapsed, leaving them unfettered by covers and ready for whatever she wanted next. He knew that his job in life was very simple—not easy, but simple. He was to make her the happiest woman on the earth, to love and cherish her, and make sure that she never had to feel an inkling of how he felt growing up, lost and alone. It would be impossible for her to live without him. That was going to be
the plan.

  And the other part was his overwhelming desire to kill—literally kill—anything that tried to take away that life or that freedom. To protect her and all the other innocents in this country from anyone who would want to mess with them and take away the life they’d earned.

  The cost of freedom is great, he thought. He didn’t need the ticker tape parade or the band, and sometimes it seemed like freedom was too expensive. It was one thing to protect against terrorism from coming to their own turf, coming to American soil, but quite another to protect freedom here.

  But for now, he was home and for now, for tonight, she was safe in his arms, in a forever he’d die protecting if he had to.

  The End

  Sharon Hamilton

  NYT and USA Today best-selling author Sharon Hamilton’s award-winning Navy SEAL Brotherhood series have been a fan favorite from the day the first one was released. They’ve earned her the coveted Amazon author ranking of #1 in Romantic Suspense, Military Romance and Contemporary Romance categories, as well as in Gothic Romance for her Vampires of Tuscany and Guardian Angels. Her characters follow a sometimes rocky road to redemption through passion and true love.

  Her Golden Vampires of Tuscany are not like any vamps you’ve read about before, since they don’t go to ground and can walk around in the full light of the sun.

  Her Guardian Angels struggle with the human charges they are sent to save, often escaping their vanilla world of Heaven for the brief human one. You won’t find any of these beings in any Sunday school class.

  She lives in Sonoma County, California with her husband and two Dobermans. A lifelong organic gardener, when she’s not writing, she’s getting verra verra dirty in the mud, or wandering Farmers Markets looking for new Heirloom varieties of vegetables and flowers.

  She loves hearing from her fans:

  sharonhamilton2001@gmail.com

  Her website is:

  http://www.authorsharonhamilton.com/

  Find out more about Sharon, her upcoming releases, appearances and news from her newsletter.