A SEAL's Courage

by JM Stewart

  She stroked him slowly, all the while rocking her hips into his hand. “I am, but…” His fingers caressed her again, and the rest of her sentence died on a strangled gasp.

  One touch and every nerve ending came alive as he swept her up in a world of sensation: the huff of his erratic breathing in her ear, his long fingers buried inside of her, stroking all the right places, building the need to breathtaking heights. Faster than she thought possible, her orgasm burst through her, luxurious and bone-melting.

  When the spasms finally slowed to aftershocks, she gave a luxurious stretch and rolled toward him. He was little more than a shadow in the darkness, but that intense gaze burned into her.

  He slid a warm palm over the curve of her hip, gripped her ass, and rocked his erection into the softness of her belly. Then he groaned, this time a sound of misery and need, and caught her bottom lip between his teeth. “Condom.”

  She nodded, brushed a kiss over his mouth, and rolled away from him, fumbling in the top drawer of her nightstand. Fingers closing around a foil packet, she rolled back to him and held out the condom. “I haven’t a clue what I’m doing, and I don’t want to wait for lessons…”

  He grinned in the darkness and took the condom, quickly putting it on, then hooked her knee and pulled her leg over his hip. Once again his large, warm palm cupped her ass, pulling her to him as he arched upward, sliding deep inside her in one slow, slick thrust.

  This time they both moaned, and he leaned his forehead against hers. “If I’m too rough…”

  She pressed her leg into his buttocks, pulling him hard to her, and arched tightly against him.

  “I’m not afraid, Trent.” She tilted her head, brushing kisses over his mouth. “Let go. I want you to let go.”

  He claimed her mouth in a hard kiss and used his purchase on her ass to set the rhythm. She wrapped both arms around him and met his every thrust by pushing against him. How was it possible to need someone like this? Their lovemaking took on a desperate rhythm, bodies surging together, and every thrust lit her body on fire. Every nerve ending came alive all over again until she was panting and making sounds she didn’t know she could make. Desperate, pleasure-filled moans and sighs.

  It wasn’t long before that sweet bubble burst inside of her again, and she was shuddering in his arms. Trent groaned low in her ear, following quickly, his body trembling against her as he came.

  He let out his breath in a rush and dropped his forehead into her neck, his arm tightening around her. They lay that way for a moment, just their harsh breathing filling the silence. Finally he lifted his head, kissed her softly, and pulled away from her. “I’ll be right back.”

  He left the room naked, returning a few minutes later, climbed in beside her, and drew her to him. She rested her head on his chest and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her so tight she couldn’t sure be where he ended and she began.

  * * *

  A week later she woke to bright sunlight pervading the room. Signs of life drifted in from outside. Kids laughing. Dogs barking. Cars starting.

  Lauren opened her eyes to find Trent on his side, hand tucked beneath his pillow, watching her. The intensity in those cobalt eyes told her something heavy weighed on his mind, but he smiled all the same, soft and warm, and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “Morning.”

  “Morning.” She returned the smile, trying to pretend her heart didn’t clench.

  She couldn’t have asked for a more perfect first time. Despite his making her promise to tell him if he got too rough, he’d been everything she’d always envisioned a man would be: tender, gentle, considerate. God, he had passion, too. Now she knew why he didn’t do one-night stands any more than she did. Because when he made love, he didn’t hold back. She didn’t get bits and parts of him. She got all of him.

  She reached back into the nightstand drawer for a condom, then rolled him onto his back and straddled his hips. “I want you.”

  Big warm hands skimmed her body, his breaths already coming hard and fast. He let out a quiet laugh. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get enough of you.”

  Her heart swelled and ached at his tender admission. Their time together was slowly dwindling. They hadn’t talked about it. Rather, they seemed to be ignoring it completely. But it was there between them all the same, like a thick black cloud hanging over their heads.

  “Me either.” She grinned at him as she slid down his body. Her trembling fingers fumbled to roll the condom down his length. Then she straddled him again and sank onto him, taking him inch by glorious inch. Yeah. This feeling. Him inside of her, body meshed with hers. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get enough of it, either.

  “Closer.” He pulled her down to lie on him, chest to chest.

  They made love slowly, rocking together, arms banded around each other, sharing the same breath. Never once did he look away, and she lost herself there, in the deep blue sea of his eyes. She was drowning in him, but she had no desire to be saved. He took her world and spun it beyond her imagination. Until there was nothing but him and the glorious pleasure he sent spiraling through her.

  He rose to meet her as she sank down, and with every luscious thrust, the rhythm increased. Until they were pushing and shoving together. She couldn’t seem to take him deep enough, and the sounds of their frantic lovemaking filled the room, their bodies slapping together, the bed creaking. Her soft pants combined with his harsh breaths.

  Her orgasm struck out of nowhere, luxurious and soft, but powerful all the same. Her eyes fluttered closed as the bliss racked her body. “Trent…”

  He let out a deep groan, his hands gripping her ass tight to hold her still as he shook beneath her.

  She collapsed on his chest, still trembling, and pressed her face into his neck, his scent filling her nostrils with every gasping breath. Trent kissed her head and held her tightly, but neither of them spoke.

  When her breathing finally slowed, she shifted off him and sat up. Trent lay there for a minute before he rose from the bed. He touched her shoulder, then left the room, striding down the hallway. The bathroom door shut with a resounding click. Or maybe it was just her.

  She was too aware that their time together was dwindling fast. She had one more week with him this way. When it was over, Trent would set her back in the friend zone, and she’d have to pretend seeing him didn’t make her heart ache. Didn’t make her want more with him or doubt herself as a woman. Once again, she’d be rejected and alone, and she had to pretend it wasn’t killing her. After all, she’d agreed to this. Could she even go back to treating him like only a friend?

  One thing became clear as the finest crystal: she really wasn’t cut out for flings.

  * * *

  Later that week, Lauren stood at the stove, trying to keep her mind focused on her task. Namely, making breakfast. She pulled the spatula through the scrambled eggs in the pan, one ear on the water running at the back of the house. Trent was in the shower. He’d come out soon dressed in just his jeans and greet her with a tender kiss on his way to the coffeemaker. Like he always did.

  All the while she’d have to pretend her chest wasn’t caving in.

  The date had leaped out at her from her phone when she’d checked her voice mail twenty minutes ago. Their month had come to an end. For the past two weeks, Trent had taken to staying at her place. She went to sleep every night with his warm, solid body wrapped against her back after making love to him until she was too sated to move. She woke every morning to his stubbled face and bright eyes.

  But now all that was over, because it was what they’d agreed on.

  Tomorrow morning her life would go back to normal. Whatever the hell that was these days. A week from now they had Will and Skylar’s party. She’d have to go back to treating Trent like a friend.

  The ache in her chest told her one thing in no uncertain terms: she’d gone and done exactly what she shouldn’t have. She’d fallen in love with him. She couldn’t even be sure when it happened. She only knew the th
ought of never again getting to touch him, or kiss him, or fall asleep wrapped in his arms was crushing her.

  The water shut off, leaving her alone with her twisting thoughts. By the time the eggs were done, he emerged around the corner in nothing but a pair of worn jeans, chest deliciously bare.

  Lauren focused on divvying out the eggs. If she didn’t, she’d be pushing herself into his arms, which would get her all of nowhere. The time had come to separate herself from this. The problem was, she hadn’t a damn clue how to do that.

  Trent sidled up behind her, settling his hands on her waist. “Tell me.”

  Of course he knew something was off. Like she was made of freaking glass.

  She shook her head, attempting to step out of his embrace. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

  Trent slid his arms around her, pulling her flush against him. His voice came as a husky rumble against her back. “You’re not fine. I know your every mood, and I know when something’s wrong. Spill it.”

  They’d promised each other honesty, but what the hell could she tell him? How did she do this?

  She sighed, tears pricking at her eyes. She’d hoped they wouldn’t have to have this conversation yet, but sooner or later she had to face it. “Today’s our last day together.”

  He didn’t say anything for a moment, but his body stiffened against her back.

  “That’s what I thought it was.” He released her and stepped away, moving around her to the coffeemaker. “It’s what we agreed on. A month and it ends.”

  His voice was low, devoid of any emotion that might clue her in to how he felt.

  She nodded and moved to the bread she’d set on the counter earlier, pulling out two pieces and popping them into the toaster. “Yup. We did.”

  “So what’s the problem?” Spoken with little emotion. Like they merely discussed whether to go out tonight.

  She gripped the counter’s edge until her fingertips hurt. The words burned like acid on her tongue, but she’d spent the last twenty minutes in contemplation, and her thoughts swirled like buzzards over a dead carcass, continually returning to one point. She couldn’t do this with him anymore. “I was thinking maybe we should just end this now instead of tomorrow morning.”

  Having poured hot coffee into a mug, Trent returned the carafe to the base and stood silent. Tension rose over him, thickening the air between them. Finally, his facade cracked and he pivoted toward her, brows draw together, blue eyes filled with…misery. With regret. “Lauren…”

  Her insides wobbled. She took a step back and shook her head. “Don’t. If you care about me at all, Trent, you won’t tell me what I know you’re going to. I know what this is and what it isn’t.”

  His jaw tightened. His nostrils flared. Fists clenched at his sides. For a moment he stared, clearly at war with himself. Then he drew a deep breath and released it, his fists unfurling. “What’s changed, then?”

  “Me.” She let out a harsh, bitter laugh and turned to the stove, for something, anything else to look at but the regret in his eyes. “Apparently, I’m no good at flings. I know we agreed on this, but I can’t pretend this isn’t killing me. I’m sorry, but I’m human. And I don’t want to spend the day dreading that moment when I have to watch you leave and not come back. I’d rather we just get it over with now. Go our separate ways.”

  While she still had the strength not to beg him to stay.

  She stared at his back, waiting for him to say…something.

  Finally, he pivoted toward her, slid a hand around her waist, and hauled her against him. His eyes blazed, nostrils flaring. “We have one more night, and I want it.”

  “What does one more night matter?” It would only hurt worse tomorrow when she had to wake in his arms again.

  Trent didn’t answer, but cupped her face in his palms and sealed his mouth over hers. His kiss wasn’t the soft, tender sips and tastes she’d come to know, either. His lips bruised hers, his tongue thrusting inside, demanding a response. God help her, she gave him one. She arched her back, pushing her breasts into his chest, and lifted onto her toes to get more of him.

  He was a drug, and she was addicted. A fly willingly caught in his web.

  As if sensing her surrender, he turned her back to the counter. His large, warm hands furrowed beneath the waistband of her pajama pants and pushed them down. When they pooled at her feet, he gripped her now bare ass in his hands and lifted her like she weighed nothing, setting her down on the counter, then edged between her thighs. He reclaimed her lips, never once giving her room to protest, as his hands moved to his fly, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. He released her long enough to shove them down his hips, then pulled her to him and thrust home.

  Lauren gasped at the sweet invasion, her body arching into his. She couldn’t say no to him any more than she could stop breathing. Her body rose to his, her hips thrusting against him.

  He wasn’t gentle or tender or slow. His hips pumped into her, his rhythm hard and fast and brutal. His thick length filled her insides, sliding so deep it bordered on the brink of pain. And yet she couldn’t stop herself from responding. He hit a sweet spot deep inside, and pleasure erupted along her nerve endings. Her body liquefied, his to do with as he pleased.

  He thrust deep again and again, and Lauren wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding tight. She pushed against him, welcoming the luscious tension coiling within her, her last chance to connect to him.

  Trent dropped his head onto her shoulder, never once apologizing or slowing, but continually pushing harder, deeper, beyond her boundaries…then demanding more.

  It didn’t last long. In a matter of minutes they were shuddering together, her body bowing into him, shaking uncontrollably as her orgasm claimed her. He groaned into her throat, his hips jerking as he emptied himself deep inside of her.

  Just as quickly as it began, it ended, leaving her shaking, a sense of ultra-vulnerability curling through her. “I want more, Trent.”

  She wanted to keep what they had. Even if there was a chance they wouldn’t last. Even it was only a few months. She wanted all of him. Wanted to call him her boyfriend, to announce their relationship to the whole damn world.

  Wanted him to tell her he wanted her, too.

  His body stiffened against her. He held her for the briefest seconds, then pulled out and turned away from her, doing up his pants as he left the room.

  Her chest squeezed, all the air leaving her lungs. His seed already spilled out to coat her inner thighs, no doubt making a mess of her kitchen counter. Never mind that they hadn’t even thought about a condom or the fact that she could end up pregnant. Wouldn’t that just be cat’s meow? Having his baby knowing he didn’t love her. The thought was killing her, and she couldn’t move. She sat frozen, afraid if she so much as breathed, she’d shatter into a thousand, irreparable shards.

  A minute later Trent stopped in the kitchen entrance, fully dressed now. His brow furrowed, eyes filled with a palpable regret. “I’m sorry, Lauren. I am. But I can’t.”

  He didn’t wait for her to respond, but turned and strode away. The entire house seemed to fill with an unbearable strained silence that gripped her chest in a vise.

  Thirty seconds later the front door opened with a whoosh of air disturbed, then closed with a quiet snap. She flinched and held her breath, knowing what was coming but waiting for it all the same. When his motorcycle growled to life outside in the driveway, the tears finally came. As she listened to his engine fading into the distance, they dripped one by one down her cheeks.

  It was over. She loved him, and he wasn’t coming back. The sad part was, as much as it hurt, she couldn’t be sorry for the time she’d spent with him. He’d given her something she could never in a million years regret: all of himself. For a single, glorious month, he was hers. He’d taught her that sex wasn’t the evil thing she’d grown up believing it to be. It could be beautiful and life altering. He’d calmed her insecurities and proven it really was possible that a good man coul
d want her.

  He’d given her wings, freedom from the past. Freedom to revel in her sexuality, to glorify in it even.

  She’d also accomplished what she’d set out to do when she’d signed up for that blasted dating service. She’d lost her virginity. She’d had her first fling and, now, her first love. All in one fell swoop. She’d treasure those memories. Even if right now all they did was make her want to curl into a ball on the floor and sob.

  * * *

  He was miserable. He was at a party meant to be a celebration, a night of fun, and he was fucking miserable.

  Seated on the steps of the back deck of his parents’ house a week later, Trent braced his elbows on his knees and stared out over the darkened yard. There were no less than a hundred people milling about the space, half of whom he’d never met. The sun had long since set, and three hours in, the party was still going strong. They’d set up tables outside, and Dad had brought out the tiki torches, setting a glowing perimeter around the yard.

  Mom had done exactly what he’d expected. She’d insisted on cooking, and now moved from table to table playing the ultimate hostess, checking on her guests and refilling plates and drinks. Will and Sky were ensconced in the middle of a crowd, laughing and talking. Dad, last he’d checked, was telling war stories.

  The whole evening was a huge success. Everyone appeared to be having fun. Everyone except him.

  He’d put on cheerful facade, for his brother’s sake, had made a toast in their honor, had laughed and forced himself to mingle. Now he had a damn headache. He couldn’t get into the mood if he tried.

  Skylar had, of course, invited Lauren. Mom had roped her into bringing dessert. She now stood at the makeshift buffet table, helping his mother refill drinks or plates. She looked incredible, in a simple pair of black slacks and a soft sweater that outlined her curves, her hair spilling free down her back and blowing in the cool evening breeze. She was on top of her game, too, gracious as always, laughing and talking.