Tank (SEAL Team Alpha Book 4)

by Zoe Dawson

  Back at the hotel room, they took turns showering. Tank was already sitting on the edge of the bed when she came out of the bathroom.

  “So, give me the lowdown on Echo. The whole story.” He’d taken off the sling, and the medication had taken that pinched look away. He looked as relaxed as a man like Tank could get, the intensity still there, but banked.

  She walked over to him and said, “He’s in pretty good shape considering. There is good news. The supraspinatus and infraspinatus muscles, essential muscles which flex and extend the shoulder and prevent dislocation by stabilizing movement of the scapula relative to the ribs, vertebrae and forelimbs weren’t severed. It’s important to note because if these muscles atrophy or shrink, the spine can be affected, and the scapula loses its stability. Both muscles are rich in nerves and especially the suprascapular nerve. His tendons also were spared severe damage and should mend on their own. I can say with some confidence that Echo will be running after his beloved ball when he fully recovers.”

  For a minute Tank just stared at her. He blinked several times. Then he reached out and snagged her around the waist, pulling her across his lap. Her breath caught at the unexpected move. When she went to protest about hurting him, his mouth captured hers. She could feel the need in him, the aching, lonely need, and she put her heart and soul into the kiss, wordlessly telling him things she couldn’t say aloud. A shudder coursed through him, and he drew a ragged breath, catching her by the back of the head, his jaw flexing beneath her hand as he responded. He moved his mouth slowly against hers, tasting her, savoring her, drawing her breath from her and leaving her weak.

  It went on and on and on, until Alyssa felt as if she were suffocating from all the sensations pouring in on her, and she flattened her hand against his chest. Tank tensed and dragged his mouth away from hers. His heart was slamming, and his breathing was harsh and uneven, but he gathered her up in a cuddling embrace. Alyssa hung on to him, knowing that he needed her—needed her strength and comfort. Finally, she was able to get a breath past the frenzy in her chest, and Tank ran his hand up her back, pressing her to him. He turned his head, placing an unsteady kiss against the curve of her neck, then nestled her closer.

  “Ah, Alyssa,” he whispered unevenly. “I’m so tired and you feel so good.”

  She closed her eyes and hugged him hard, moved by his husky admission. Struggling against the feelings he’d created in her, she tightened her arms around him when she felt him move and settle against the mattress with her. She pulled the covers up.

  “I just want to hold you. I know none of this is playing by the rules, but the rules can go fuck themselves right now.”

  “Hoo-yah and hooah!” she said.

  She was rewarded with a husky chuckle and a hard hug. Unaccountably moved by the hug, even more moved by the protective way he tucked her head against his shoulder, she shut her eyes and struggled against the sudden threat of tears. There was an undercurrent of tension to his voice mixed in with the amusement. She’d felt it ever since she’d seen him this morning.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked. “Is it Blue?”

  Resting his cheek against her hair, Tank continued to rub her back, and Alyssa turned her face against his neck, saturating herself in his touch. How could anything this good be against the law? Finally, Tank released a long sigh, running his hand up the full length of her back. “LT got a call this morning. Three of the captured NATO members were killed and left out in the open,” he said.

  Alyssa opened her eyes, considering his comment; then the sorrow of those deaths washed over her. It must be even worse for Tank, who had known them personally.

  “Two SEALs are still missing…Speed from Team Bravo and Blue. The guys had to go. They’re going to be intensifying their efforts to find Blue and the Kirikhan rebels’ stronghold.”

  “You’re upset you can’t be part of it.”

  Tank raised his head and looked at her, his gaze solemn. “Damn right. I should be with them.” He shifted his gaze as he smoothed his thumb along her cheekbone, then looked at her, his eyes dark and worried. “I don’t like feeling helpless. It pisses me off.”

  It had cost him a lot to make such an open admission. Alyssa could see it in his eyes, and it was all she could do to keep from letting her feelings get the upper hand. “What is it about Blue that you’re not telling me?” she asked softly, holding his gaze. “What are you holding onto?”

  He stared down at her. He lifted a wisp of hair off her face and carefully tucked it behind her ear; then he looked at her again. “I should have had his back, Alyssa. He’s out there or he’s captured and being tortured. I can’t help blaming myself,” he said huskily.

  She smoothed her hand down his bare arm. “Weren’t you blown back? Weren’t you unconscious?” she whispered.

  “Yes,” he said, guilt shadowing the brown of his eyes. “When I woke up, he was already gone. I was rushing to help Echo.”

  “You did what you could. You’re not superhuman.”

  He nodded, and they were silent for a long while as he rubbed her arm, then something shifted, and it wasn’t about comfort anymore.

  “But you’re the closest thing I’ve seen to it.” She was actually surprised he’d corralled his raw hunger for as long as he had. She thought he wanted her and that made her feel both awe and shock. She wanted to touch all the hard places that were so forbidden and sexy. She wished he would kiss her again. Wait… Why did she have to wait for that? She was as caught up in what was happening between them as she thought he was. But when she shifted to move more into him, she saw that he was asleep. Feeling let down, she shouldn’t be disappointed. He’d kissed her so passionately, tempered with his gratitude.

  He made her want to embrace everything that made her feminine.

  His warmth lulled her closer and closer into sleep. How many lines would she be willing to cross with this man? How many would he?

  They were there for three days, visiting Echo every day—and he improved every day. He would stay at Lackland until he was fully recovered, receive his physical therapy there as well. After he was fully healed, he would go up for adoption. That’s the part that hurt like a bitch.

  They slept in the big bed, but Tank didn’t touch her at all. She was beginning to think that his interest in her must have waned or it had never been that hot to begin with. Ninety-nine percent of her was so god-awful disappointed, and that mutinous one percent bitch slapped her and told her to get a grip. You aren’t going to pursue shit because you don’t have the guts. You wouldn’t even know the first thing about seducing a man like that. He’s so out of your league.

  The truth hurt. While people in high school and college were hooking up and getting to know the opposite sex, Alyssa had been studying and working her damnedest to become a vet. Every waking moment was about getting to her goal. But when she’d gotten there, it had been hollow. It had been someone else’s dream. Maybe she had been wishy-washy about the job offer because she was now completely confused. Had this been something she’d wanted for herself? She couldn’t say.

  Had she settled with Stephen because it was easier to stay in her protected sexual shell even as she yearned to release that part of her and see where she would go?

  Meeting Tank had kick-started her. Being near him had been stimulating because he was always so contrary. She’d have to be completely blind not to want him. But something special was happening between them these last few days. Friendship. Not something she’d expected from a man who had sexual encounters instead of relationships.

  Jordan had warned her that his brother wasn’t boyfriend or husband material. He didn’t want to see her get her heart broken, but he’d smiled and said he wasn’t worried. She was too smart to go down that road.

  She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror as she packed up her toiletries. “Yeah, I have a Ph.D. in How to make Myself Miserable. The dissertation was a complete downer.”

  When she came out of the bathroom, he was sitting
on the bed looking out the window. His suitcase was packed and ready to go. His gorgeous profile made her heart beat faster.

  At the sound of the door, he turned to look at her. “I guess you’ll have to get yourself a new mascot, Doc.”

  He was back to calling her that as if he was working at distance. That clinched it. He was looking for a way to get out of seeing her. She should have known she couldn’t tempt a man like that. She was such a ninny.

  “You don’t want to do it anymore?”

  He gave her a disapproving smile. “I don’t currently have a dog.”

  “How about we worry about this once you’ve gotten better and are reassigned a dog.”

  He looked down, then away. “What if I don’t want another dog?”

  She came over to the bed. There was a rebellious slash to his mouth and a hard look in his eyes. “You don’t mean that. I know you believe in the MWD program. You’ve been helping me for a while.” Was this Tank closing down, pulling in because of what happened to Echo? It had been easy to see that his wounding had torn Tank apart. She was sure he wasn’t used to being this vulnerable. Maybe he recognized that. “Tell me what’s really going on.”

  “Nothing. I just don’t want another dog.” He rose and grabbed his suitcase. “It’s the end of this particular discussion.”

  The my-way-or-the-highway Tank was back, only this was worse than before. He seemed locked up.

  She rolled her suitcase to the door. “Tank…I just want to help.”

  Her world tilted when he was there filling her vision, backing her against the wall. She looked at him, the tension humming in every muscle and nerve.

  “Well, you’re not helping right now, especially when I can’t keep my mind on anything other than you.”

  His intense eyes caressed her face in a coarse and unsettling way—a rousing good way. She was so inexperienced when it came to connecting with her sexual side. She lived so much in her head. Her intellect was her armor, but with Tank, being smart didn’t seem to be working. She had slept in the same bed with him. That wasn’t exactly a genius move. Even knowing they were probably already violating the UCMJ, she couldn’t seem to think, once again, that it was wrong.

  “I’m having the same problem,” she murmured.

  He brushed his knuckles over her cheekbone, then his hand traveled down her neck to encircle her throat.

  “I’m not going to give in to my need to fuck you so hard you’ll forget about any man you had before me. Make no mistake, Alyssa, I want you. I usually take what I want if the woman is willing, and even with our constraints, I already know you are. I don’t have to touch you to know your core is aching and you’re wet and hot for me.” The slight, sinful smile that curved his mouth told her that he knew how hot and restless he was making her. “I’d have you begging for me, and that’s when I’d go down on you and use my tongue to make you come and come and come.”

  She made a soft gasp at the rough way he was talking to her. His eyes flashed as if her helpless sound of wanting pleased him. “Your unimaginative ex-husband had no idea what to do with you. I can taste the innocence in you, and I’m not a missionary kind of guy. I’d take you in every possible way a man can fuck a woman.”

  She was melting, her sex tingling where she wanted his fingers against her swollen flesh, and even though Stephen had fumbled around down there, she knew Tank would be masterful.

  “You’ll want to fuck me with your mouth, suck my dick so hard it’ll drive me crazy, knock me to my knees, turn me upside down and inside out. I know you have that kind of power.”

  It was all she could do to keep herself from straddling his waist and locking her legs around him for direct contact.

  His breathing was ragged, and his hand tightened on her throat as he tipped her head back. “You want to know why I’m restraining myself? Why I don’t just do it?” His mouth hovered over her lips, his hot breath making her mouth ache for the pressure of his. His tongue slipped out and ran over her mouth, lust simmering in his eyes when she sucked on him. His lips grazed along her jaw, all the way to her ear. He pressed his cheek against her, the electric scrape of his stubble on her soft skin an erotic sensation that heightened the sexual tension rising between them. She closed her eyes, leaned more fully into his hard, lean body.

  “Why?” she whispered.

  “Because, I don’t want this…our relationship…to be about sex. And sweetheart, that’s the most dangerous thing about you.”

  He opened the door and slipped out as if he could ninja his way out of any more conversation. She closed her eyes to rein in her temper. After all they shared, this is what he was going to do? Shut her out? Like hell.

  She marched out the door and he was already at the elevator. She stalked down the hall and faced him, her body still tingling, reacting to every hot and heavy word he’d said. God, she closed her eyes for a moment thinking how she wanted to be fucked by him, have that hot, wet mouth everywhere. “This is a dangerous path we’re on. We need to cool it before we both end up regretting it. We have already crossed so many lines.”

  “Agreed,” he said.

  She ran her hand over her hair to smooth it down. She nodded. “Good. That’s settled. But not the dog handling.” She had to get away from the relationship talk and back onto even ground if that was at all possible. “It would be wrong for a man like you, with your training and your way with dogs, to get out of the program. What else is going on?”

  “Newsflash, Doc. You’re not my keeper, my LT, or my therapist. So back the hell off. Touchy-feely time is over.”

  “In other words, you don’t want to face that kind of situation again.”

  He sighed and stared at her stonily. The elevator doors opened, and he stepped inside. “You coming? I can’t drive with my shoulder like this.”

  She gritted her teeth and ducked inside before the doors closed. He was right. Touchy-feely time was over.

  He was silent and stoic the whole way back to San Diego, and he didn’t say anything until she pulled up to his house. He sat there, lines of strain etched deep beside his dark eyes that combined with the shadow of his beard to make him look tough and dangerous.

  He turned to her. “Thank you for what you did with Echo. I meant it. I’ll never forget it, Doc.”

  Was this goodbye? She turned to him not sure where they really stood. There didn’t seem to be any way to move forward, and God help her, there was no way to go back.

  Her jaw locked against the sudden ache in her throat, she tried to will away the awful fullness burning in her eyes. They had shared so much in the last few days, and she had to ease in a deep, hard breath. She was strong enough for this. She knew that from experience. She didn’t want to let him go.

  His gaze stormy and intimate, he stared at her, his eyes alive with longing. Something flickered in his eyes, his expression hardening. “Take care of yourself,” he said, his voice husky.

  Left with nothing but this achy, hot feeling that filled her with dissatisfaction, she nodded, turning away, her throat tight. Just let me get through this without coming apart in front of him. Then she remembered. There was still a tie between them. Jordan worked for her, and it made her feel marginally better for some stupid reason. Regret filled her for his health scare. Tank was already overloaded with the loss of Echo and Blue missing. Hearing about Jordan must have been another terrible blow. Anything she could do to lessen his worry was worth mentioning. “You, too. If you ever need help with Jordan, let me know.”

  He paused half his body already out of the vehicle. He settled back in the seat and frowned, black hair tumbling across his forehead. “Why would I need help with Jordan?” he said, his voice little more than rough smoke.

  “Doctor’s appointments, treatments.”

  His face blanched and she realized in the split second before he said, “What treatments?” that she had just placed her foot in her mouth.

  Tank’s eyes narrowed a fraction, and he stared at her. Leaning in closer, h
is gaze suddenly dark and serious. When she just stared at him, a feeling of apprehension unfolding in her belly, he caught her chin. He didn’t say anything, but she could feel the tension in him, and her apprehension turned to dread. “What treatments, Alyssa?”

  “You should talk to Jordan, Tank.”

  “I’m talking to you and I want to know what’s going on with my baby brother,” he growled.

  “I really think—”

  “Tell me.”

  Feeling shaky inside, she had to resign herself to the fact that he wouldn’t relent until she told him. He had a right to know, but it should have been Jordan who had told him. This was such a damned awful way for him to find out. She needed to give Jordan a piece of her mind. “He had a blood test that indicated he might have cancer.”

  He closed his eyes and swore viciously. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I thought he would have told you about it. I’m sorry.”

  His voice gruff with hurt undertones, Tank said, “Fuck. I’ve got to go.”

  “Tank, I’m really sorry.”

  His face etched with anger, he slammed the door and walked across the lawn, slamming the front door so hard she heard it even at the curb.

  For a moment, she didn’t want to leave. But he had made it quite clear that he didn’t want her help, not emotionally, not with Jordan. Not with anything.

  She hunched her shoulders, filled with pain and remorse, but there was no outlet for it. She put the car in gear and headed home.

  Her breath caught on a little sob, but she kept driving. There was nothing to do but move forward. She’d done that enough in her life.

  Her moral conduct was safe, her career was safe, and her heart was safe.

  Somehow that didn’t cheer her up at all.

  Blue woke up, the smell of wood burning and the heat of a fire warm against his face. He was in the same small room, the rough-hewn rafters above his head. The smell of something rich and delicious was in the air. He stirred and had no idea how long it had been since he’d been hurt. His sense of time was completely out of sync.