RULES OF LOVE (A Navy SEALs Romance)

by Bella Grant

  “That’s from the accident?”

  “Yes,” she muttered. “Now get out of my office, Navy.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his hip against the doorframe. “No.”

  “No?”

  “You heard me. I said no.”

  The anger on her face slowly faded, and she limped towards him, her cane tapping the floor hard with every step. Beau frowned when she smiled the closer she came to him—until she reached for the door and swung it towards him. He stepped back just in time for it to slam shut.

  “Goodnight, Navy,” she yelled from the other side. He heard her turn the lock.

  He raised his fist to demand she open the door but let it fall to his side, grunting in frustration as he stormed down the stairs. He wasn’t going to sleep now. He stalked through the darkened house, running back over what he saw.

  The scars… He couldn’t get them out of his mind—Naomi’s leg looked horrid and torn—but those scars didn’t look like a car accident had caused them. His buddy’s skin was scarred like that. Not as bad, but the same pattern. Bullet scars. Beau shook his head again, wondering how he could think something so ridiculous. She filmed documentaries, didn’t go on top-secret missions to foreign countries. Even if she didn’t do any of that, he knew she was lying about something.

  Nothing seemed out of place in the garden. He passed Shane at his post on the back porch. He did his usual perimeter check, dialing Reinhart on his way around the front of the house to let him know all was well in hand at the safe house. He radioed Ted at the front, but all was quiet in that direction, too. He finally trudged back inside after Shane told him he should try and get some sleep while he could, but Beau wouldn’t sleep a wink.

  He noticed Naomi’s office light still on when he reached the second floor and wanted to see if she was willing to talk to him since her door was open. He was struck by the sight of her instead. She had fallen asleep at her computer, her face on the keyboard, all curled up in her rolling chair. Papers were scattered all over the floor where they’d fallen out of her lap, and her computer had shut down by her elbow on the power button. For the first time since he’d met her, she looked peaceful. Beau fought the urge to brush her black hair out of her face. He picked her up in his arms, careful not to wake her, and carried her to her room.

  She snuggled against his chest in her sleep, and he froze on the stairs, his hands tightening around her. Holding her so close put all his nerves on high alert. He never wanted to let her go. In her sleep, she could be close to him. After a moment, he forced himself onward, brushing his lips gently against her forehead and dying to do so much more with her.

  He pulled back her quilt, lay her in the bed, and tucked it back up around her. She turned on her side, grabbing his hand in her sleep. He sat on the edge of the bed, watching her. He wanted to ask so many questions… Like what had really happened to her leg and if it had anything to do with the man from her past? Why, when she slept, she suffered from nightmares that tormented her, twisting her face in pain?

  He stayed with her for an hour, watching over her in case she woke up screaming again. When she seemed to be fine, Beau stood to go to his room, but she shifted restlessly, muttering in her sleep. He dragged a chair over from the corner, placing it next to her bed, and held her hand well into the night until they were both deep in sleep.

  Eddie screamed, waking up in a cold sweat, breathing hard. Her eyes darted wildly around the room until they landed on Beau.

  “You alright?” he asked, gripping her hand gently.

  She fought the urge to flinch but couldn’t stop herself and yanked her hand away. “Fine, just another nightmare. How did I get up here, and why are you here and not in your own room?”

  “I carried you. You were slumped over your computer when I found you, and you… uh, you wouldn’t let go of my hand in your sleep.” His lips lifted briefly. Eddie shot him a look and rolled over in the other direction. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “What does it look like? I’m trying to sleep the last three hours before dawn like any normal person would,” came a muffled reply.

  “Not until you talk.”

  “And what would you like me to talk about—candy canes and sugar plum fairies?” she asked sarcastically.

  Beau rubbed his neck and decided straight-forward was the easiest route. “Like what your nightmares are about, and why you flinch when someone touches you, or why the scars on your knee don’t look like they’re from a car accident.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Eddie whispered quietly, pulling farther away from Beau. Gently, he reached out his hand to roll her back towards him, but as soon as his fingertips hit her shoulder, she flinched and jerked away from him.

  “Like that! What happened, Naomi?”

  She sat up, facing him, her eyes cold as she ground her teeth in anger. “I don’t wish to talk about it with you.”

  “Why not? Who hurt you?” he asked, holding her gaze sternly with his. He could see the emotions flashing across her face as she struggled with the truth. She was trying to hold back the pain, but the tears formed and fell through her lashes. Angrily, she brushed them away. “Naomi, who hurt you?”

  “Someone I’ve been trying to forget for three years. I just can’t let it go…” She trailed off quietly, trying to burrow under the covers, obviously hoping to block out Beau’s face.

  When Beau scowled at her, she sat up. Her eyes slipped to his hand on the bed as if contemplating what he would do to her. Ever so slowly, she reached her own out towards him.

  “I can’t touch anymore. Every time I do”—her hand was inches from Beau’s fingers when she stopped and pulled her hand away—“the pain comes right back.”

  Pissed, Beau’s jaw clenched. Naomi was so lost in the memories she’d been trying to suppress for so long. Her hair fell in front of her face, and carefully, Beau reached his hand towards her, tucking the hair back behind her ear. She wanted to pull away but fought the urge. She held his gaze as hers narrowed.

  “You can trust me,” he whispered, trailing his hand down her cheek. Naomi reached up and, closing her eyes for a moment, took his hand in hers, squeezing it tightly.

  “Trust the arrogant man who orders me around?” she asked with a falsely light tone.

  He frowned. “I have my moments. What can you expect when I have to deal with a prideful woman like you?” His face fell as her shoulders hunched. “You can trust me, Naomi. I won’t hurt you, not like he did.”

  “I’m trying, but I want to know why you’re doing this for me. Why should you care besides keeping me alive for your mission?”

  When his body stiffened, Eddie knew she’d caught him. He had no reason to care like this, but he did and she wanted to know why before something started between them. Before they did something they might regret.

  “Because, despite what you might think, I do care,” he said finally, the words rough with struggling emotions she knew mirrored her own. “You need rest, and I need to go on another patrol.”

  Eddie watched him go, annoyed at the disappointment she felt and mentally yelling at herself that neither one of them needed any more complications with a killer on the way. Maybe, if they lived through this, there could be something—but what the hell was she thinking? As chaotic as her life was, the man would never understand, especially if she couldn’t let go of her past.

  She shoved the quilt aside and reached for her cane when Beau walked back into her room and closed the door behind him. His eyes met hers and held her gaze with their sudden intensity. “Beau? Something happen?”

  His steps were measured as he moved across the floor. “The second we met.”

  “What are you talking about?” Her hands dug into the quilt. Heat moved through her body as she watched him stand there in his tight t-shirt and jeans. She knew what lay underneath that shirt, and the sudden urge to see it again overwhelmed her.

  �
�The way you move, the way your cold eyes light up when you see me, how you lick your lips.”

  She caught herself doing just that and forced herself to stop. “Natural reaction to an attractive man. I don’t see the point.”

  “The point,” he said, biting off the words as he moved closer to the bed, “is that you feel the same attraction to me that I do to you. It’s more than me caring.” His eyes zeroed in on her, taking in every inch of her body he could see, and she felt it like a caress on her skin, even from this distance. “I want you, Naomi, and I will do whatever I have to do to make that happen.”

  Eddie’s stomach twisted, but not in a sick way. She couldn’t deny Beau was damn sexy, and having him near her stirred a longing she thought long killed by the events of her past. She got out of bed and drifted closer to him. His chest heaved as she closed the distance but remained outside of his arms’ reach.

  “I can’t just hop into bed with you,” she whispered.

  “Then we’ll take it slow,” he told her. “I won’t even move if you don’t want me to.”

  She pushed her tongue behind her lip as her icy stare narrowed on him. A question formed in his eyes, and before he even asked it, she knew what he would say.

  “Whoever this guy was, he hit you, didn’t he?”

  A violent flash of memory shot through her mind, and Eddie took a deep breath to steady herself, feeling a ghost of that first hit. Just the first one, not the many that had followed. “If you want to do this, I can’t talk about it,” she said quietly. “I can’t. For now, just let it go. Please.” She saw his jaw clench and his hands curled into fists. “Beau, please?”

  He let a breath out through his nose and visibly relaxed. “For now.”

  She accepted that answer and took another step towards him. He was not the man who had hurt her. He wasn’t even close. The man before her was Beau Savage, and he would not hurt her. No one could hurt her like that other man had managed to.

  “Naomi?”

  “Taking it slow,” she assured him. “I’m not sure what to do.”

  “Whatever you need to.”

  She needed a drink, that’s what she needed, but it was out of the question at the moment. If he left her room now, she’d lose her nerve, and the pang of regret at the thought of never giving them this chance stung. No, she would attempt to be a normal woman again. She’d wanted that for the past three years. To feel something again.

  Eddie’s eyes roamed over his features to his muscled neck and shoulders. She absorbed every twitch of his body under her careful study. She asked him to take off his shirt, and he did it without question, tossing it aside so she could see his bare chest. Her feet moved forward of their own accord until she was barely a foot from him. Her fingers reached out, hesitant, and she rested them on his skin.

  Beau’s chest was warm to the touch, and her hand stayed there for a long moment, enjoying the feel of it beneath her palm. She didn’t flinch, a good sign. Delicately, she dragged her fingers over his pecs and lower to his abs, perfectly outlined. His body stiffened as her touch moved lower, and she smirked. His body was a near-perfect v, and a trail of soft brown hair disappeared into his pants. Eddie circled him languidly as her hand moved to his arms and shoulders. Her other hand soon followed, and she stared at his back, ripped as much as his chest with dimples near his waist. There were a few scars here and there, the pale flesh standing out against his tanned skin. She recognized them as knife wounds. Several of her own scars matched.

  When she came back around to his front and glanced down, she saw the bulge in his pants and stepped back immediately. He caught her hands and held them to his chest.

  “I… uh, I think I may have caused that.”

  “You’ve been causing that since the day I met you,” he said roughly.

  “We can stop. I don’t want to leave you like this if I can’t… if it doesn’t work out…”

  Beau leaned down so he was eye level, still holding her hands to his chest so she could feel his pulse hammering. “Do you want to stop?”

  “No.” Her voice was hoarse as she stepped closer. Their bodies were nearly touching, but Beau did not move, as promised. Eddie closed her eyes, and her lips found his.

  Just as before, the kiss was tender, and Eddie kissed him again, not wanting her lips to leave the warmth of his. She adjusted her hands so she held his and very carefully placed one and then the other at her hips.

  “Are you sure?”

  She left her hands over his for a moment and felt the familiar flutter of panic in her chest, but she stared into his eyes until it was nothing more than a nagging voice in the depth of her mind.

  “I’m sure. Kiss me again.”

  His hands massaged her hips as he bent down and slanted his mouth across hers. For the first time in years, Eddie didn’t feel the need to run away and hide. Longing flooded her body as heat kindled between her legs, so hot she feared it would burn her up from the inside out if not quenched. Beau’s tongue moved hesitantly against her lips, seeking entrance. Eddie obliged with a sigh and leaned into him as the kiss deepened. Her hands slid up to hold his shoulders, and when his moved to her back, the urge to pull back diminished further. Being in Beau’s arms was different. Here, she was safe, and she knew it. Her whole body knew it. Here, she didn’t have to fear what would happen next.

  Beau’s touch was tender and strong at the same time, holding her up when she was sure her legs would give out from the onslaught of intense desire. Not letting his lips leave hers, Beau moved them so they were near the bed. He sat down and stared up at her.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked, his lips swollen from her kisses and his eyes dilated with his own need. His pants bulged in the front, and Eddie wondered how long this man could last without getting what he was after. She second-guessed what they were doing and pulled back, but Beau caught her hand. “Stop thinking whatever you’re thinking.”

  “How do you know what I’m thinking?”

  “I can see it in your eyes, and I can tell you right now, you’re wrong about whatever it is.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed each knuckle. “I’m not him, Naomi. You can trust me to take care of you.”

  “How can I do that?”

  “What do you feel when you’re with me?” He placed her hand on his bare chest near his heart. “What do you want from me?”

  “That’s not how this works.”

  “With me, it is,” he promised huskily. “Naomi, what do you want?”

  What did she want? The sudden need to experience a moment of insane pleasure shot through her body, but she couldn’t ask him to give her pleasure, could she? It sounded insane, and no man would do that without trying to get something for himself. She tried to pull away again as her cheeks burned, but he didn’t let her.

  “Naomi, look at me. You can trust me.”

  “It’s fine, really.”

  “No. Talk to me. I’m not going to run for cover, no matter what you say.”

  She bit her lip, and without looking at him, she muttered the words she couldn’t believe she was saying out loud to a man she hardly knew yet somehow trusted with her life, with her past. “Pleasure. I haven’t felt pleasure in years.” There. She’d said it, and she couldn’t take it back.

  Beau stood and turned her face tenderly back to his. “Do you trust me?”

  Eddie nodded solemnly, and her gaze didn’t leave his as he maneuvered them so the bed was behind her. No ideas popped into her head of what he was going to do, but she hadn’t lied. She trusted him.

  Beau wrapped his arms around her and lifted her onto the bed, laying her back. He kissed her languidly, his tongue exploring her mouth as his hands worked up under her sweatshirt. She sat up long enough for him to pull it over her head, revealing a tank underneath with no bra. He cursed at the sight of her nipples through the white fabric, and Eddie sucked in a breath as they hardened under his hungry gaze.

  Beau’s hands pushed h
er tank up slowly, his lips leaving a trail of heat as they followed until his fingers brushed the undersides of her breasts and moved higher.

  “Still fine?” he asked, voice rough as he glanced up at her face.

  “Perfect,” she whispered when she felt the cool air on her nipples. They tightened even more. She waited for the panic to set in, as it always did, but her heart pounded with a different type of nervous energy when his mouth covered one of her nipples and sucked it, gently at first, then harder until she groaned.

  A spring tightened low in her gut, and her back arched. His hands set to work, massaging her other breast as he gave them the attention they hadn’t experienced in years. An angry voice shouted in her mind, and Eddie stiffened suddenly, forgetting the pleasure coursing through her body.

  “Naomi, take a breath,” he ordered and moved away to give her space. “You’re with me, not him.”

  She nodded fiercely as the voice shouted again. Beau raised himself and smoothed her hair from her face and spoke quietly to her. She didn’t even hear the words, but his voice calmed her, and after a minute, she managed to force the voice to be quiet and opened her eyes to stare up into his.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, but he placed a finger on her lips.

  “No, you never have to be sorry, not with me. Do you want me to stop?”

  As he spoke, his right hand smoothed over her flat stomach to the top of her knit shorts, pulling on the string. His eyes were locked on hers as he undid the knot and slipped his hand beneath the fabric. If she could keep her eyes on his, know it wasn’t another touching her, maybe this would work. Beau seemed to know exactly what she needed, and the only thing that moved was his hand.

  And God, what that hand did to her.

  It cupped her over her panties, holding her in his hand as his fingers gently massaged her sensitive, wet lips. His eyes darkened as he felt her arousal, and her mouth twitched in a smile at his reaction, even more than his erection pressing against her leg. His hand pulled back enough so he could touch her, bare skin to bare skin.

  She gasped the moment his fingers closed around her clit, a shiver running through her body.