Healing
General’s Daughter: Book Five
By
Breanna Hayse
©2015 by Blushing Books® and Breanna Hayse
All rights reserved.
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Hayse, Breanna
Healing: General’s Daughter, Book Five
eBook ISBN: 978-1-62750-762-2
Cover Design by ABCD Graphics & Design
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.
Table of Contents:
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
About Breanna Hayse
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Blushing Books Newsletter
About Blushing Books
CHAPTER ONE
Samantha Quimby groaned as Rich pressed his mouth deeply against hers, his hands clutching her lithe body hungrily and with possession. Everything was forgotten. Their fight, the bribery gift of new boots, and even the fact that they stood in the line of sight in front of the USMC Research Laboratory located on Shelter Island, in San Diego, California. Nothing could distract her from his intoxicating presence as he held her head back using her long, auburn braid to keep her mouth tilted to his.
Emerald green eyes flashed brightly against his darkly tanned skin as Rich surveyed her reaction to his embrace. Sam’s slate blue eyes, framed in long dark lashes, were slitted with lust. Her rosebud lips were red and slightly swollen after being crushed against his own. She breathlessly panted as she tried unsuccessfully to stand without wobbling. Yes, she was his captive. His to do with as he pleased.
Until her transmitter buzzed.
“Damn it. Lt. Quimby,” she forced out, breaking his trance.
“We got a call, sis. Helo’s coming. Sorry, but duty calls,” her field commander, and older brother, jovially announced.
“Your timing sucks, Michael. On my way. Rich, I’m sorry. I promise to make it up to you later. Anyway you want,” Sam murmured into his ear. She kissed him quickly one last time before trotting inside the labs to change into her wetsuit, yawning with boredom as Michael droned on with instructions.
“Lt. Lewis, the labs are yours. We have a ship down off San Francisco bay. They’ve dropped shark cages, but the divers can’t safely get to the wreckage.”
“What happened?” Rich asked, handing him his breathing equipment for the dive.
“Dunno yet. I will try to keep you updated if I can. Jen, mind Rich please. And don’t worry.”
Jennifer Carter bit back fearful tears as she kissed Michael goodbye, the look of concern pasted over her face. This experience as a civilian working among special ops was new for her and her expression showed that she was unprepared for the terror that came with the knowledge that both her best friend and her lover were entering a dangerous situation. She clung tightly to Rich for support as they watched the two young lieutenants grab the drop ropes to lift them into the helicopter.
“Don’t worry, Jenny. They’ll be fine. This is routine. No, no…. don’t cry,” Rich said, holding her against him warmly. He sighed, watching the helo zoom away. He wished he could reassure himself as well.
***
“What is the situation, Pete?” Michael asked as they flew up the coast.
“Naval vessel hauling a nuke was detoured into the bay by a false call. Ship went down when it hit an underwater explosive.”
“Oh shit. The nuke?”
“Contained. It’s located in the lower hull, port side. We’ll have a squad on the surface to take over once you guys find it. It’s another terrorist attack, needless to say, Mike.”
“Damn it. Sammi? These will be more sharks than you’ve ever dealt with. Do you think you can do it while I get the nuke?”
“I have no choice. I wish Ton were with us. A killer whale would come in handy here. None of the dolphin bother with the bay because of those sharks, and the seals are useless,” Sam said with a sigh.
“If there is anything you guys need, let us know. Sammi, be careful. Don’t put us through another incident again. Promise me.” Pete looked concerned, studying the young officers riding next to him.
She squeezed his hand. “I will, I promise. Thanks for worrying about me, Pete.”
“I just wish I could do something to protect you from being hurt. Sorry, but it’s in my blood, and you are so tiny,” Pete admitted, squeezing her hand in return.
“You know I will call if I need you. Just keep an ear out for me, okay?”
Michael smirked as he overheard their conversation, amused with his sister’s power over their crews’ affections. He could see by the look on Pete’s face that he had appreciated her response. And Sam seemed pleased as well, enjoying her new role as a not-so-much damsel in distress.
Hovering over the bay, the two were able to assess the situation clearly. Sharks had already started swarming around the partially submersed hull and the rescue teams were quickly moving their boats away from the sinking ship.
“Ready, partner?” Michael asked, placing his mask.
Sam nodded. “Let’s do it. Pete, try to get rid of this noise for me, okay? It’s too distracting for me to concentrate well.” She gestured to the news helicopters buzzing around before following her brother in a high dive into the choppy dark gray waters of San Francisco Bay.
Sam anchored herself away from the wreck and slowly began to direct the hordes of sharks in her direction using the ichthy-band around her neck. Michael's safety was her concern and she pressed on for over two hours, concentrating on keeping the sharks calm and lazy. Eventually, her focus started to slip and the effort became too much to handle. Her transmitter vibrated, signaling all clear, but she still had to escape the circling monsters. Their patterns started to change as she tired, and she felt teeth graze her wetsuit-clad leg. She kept low to the bottom on the bay, cautiously heading towards Alcatraz and hoping she could beach herself before the change in the sharks’ neurological patterns triggered a full-fledged attack. Another shark rushed her, deflected once again by the suit.
Sam finally backed into the rocky shoreline and powered her boots to push her to the surface as fast as possible. The sudden movement caused the shiver to rush and thrash against the rocks, gnashing their teeth wildly in response to the neuro signal of wounded prey. Sam's heart pounded fiercely as she deeply inhaled the salty air to reactivate her lungs.
“Sam? Do you read me?” She heard Michael’s concerned voice. Yes, he knew her danger. He always knew.
“On the island. Good thing I was water bound, I wet my
self.” She forced a laugh.
“You okay?”
“Killer headache, but yes. Come take me home,” Sam requested, closing her eyes to the throbbing. The little bit of strength she had left was used to hold on, as she was hauled up by rope and into the helo.
Michael hugged her, and then cupped her face. “You look terrible.”
“I have a migraine. My head wants to explode. Why does this stupid helo have to be so loud?” she whined, burying her face in a towel. Tsking, her brother held her close and began to stroke her long, auburn hair.
“We'll be home soon, baby. You'll be fine. Can you handle one more dive?”
“Yeah, but please call a pod or find Ton,” Sam begged her brother, holding her head between her palms. “This headache is dreadful. It makes me wanna puke.”
Michael had the helo hover low over the water and helped his sister into the waves. “Ton’s coming, baby. Hold on,” Michael said, treading the water as the tall dorsal fin rapidly made its way towards the two. Ton circled them, images shooting quickly as he mentally quizzed Sam, causing her to cry out in more pain. His images slowed as he began to gently integrate her with his mind, drawing her into the collective of the cetacean community.
Michael helped her onto Ton's back, watching with scientific fascination as the healing effects of the integration caused Sam to relax. She smiled, her lids drooping as she clung to the whale’s dorsal fin and pressed her soft cheek against the cold, rubbery surface.
“He wants me to sleep,” Sam muttered.
“Thanks, buddy,” Michael said, rubbing the animal's head. “Let’s get her to shore.”
Ton leaned his huge body against the dock and waited as Michael lifted the tiny girl into his arms. Carefully, he carried her up the stairs to the deck of their home.
“Some help please!” he called, trying not to jar Sam as he struggled with the French doors that led into the house.
His father ran outside and pulled the girl from her brother's protective arms. “What’s wrong with her? What happened?” he asked, laying her wet body on the couch.
“Ton put her to sleep. She developed a bad migraine after using the i-band for over two hours. I’m not exaggerating, we had several hundred sharks there, plus a nuke.”
“Oh my god,” Dr. Quimby whispered, stroking his daughter’s face. “Are you okay, son?”
“I’m fine. She did all the work. They rushed her towards the end. She was able to get onto the island to escape.”
“You’re back! How did it— What’s wrong?” Rich asked, dropping on the floor next to Dr. Quimby.
He was immediately joined by the rest of the family and all were advised of the events.
“It’s okay, son. She’s all right,” Dr. Quimby said soothingly as Rich held the girl in his arms, kissing her face over and over.
“We can’t let her do this again. She is too fragile,” he said.
Scott patted Rich’s shoulder. “It’s her job. This is who she is. What she is. We can never change that no matter what we feel about it.”
“You are the base commander, not just her uncle. You can stop this! You need to stop this!”
“She would never forgive me if I took her purpose away, son. I love her too much to strip her of her choices. I know it is hard to understand, but that is how things are,” Scott Jenkins said sadly.
“Rich, why don’t you take Samantha upstairs and put her to bed? Keep a close eye on her too, just in case she wakes up,” Dr. Quimby suggested.
Rich nodded, scooping the girl in his long arms and holding her close to his body. He looked at the man. “How do you do it? She is your daughter, your baby.”
“I take one day at a time, one mission at a time. And I pray. A lot.”
“I’ve never felt this powerless before. Excuse me,” Rich said with a choked voice before he hurried away with Sam cradled in his arms.
Scott leaned his arm on his friend’s shoulder. “I have a feeling Richard’s going to make our over-protection look like child’s play.”
“I think you’re right, my friend. Mike, go get yourself cleaned up and I’ll make you something hot.”
“Okay Dad, thanks. Come on Jen, keep me company.”
***
Rich gently lowered Sam into the warm bath and washed the salt and sand from her wetsuit-clad body. Hesitating and glancing at the door, he carefully peeled the suit off her, amazed how she could sleep through his actions. He removed her transmitter from her wrist, then washed her hair, watching as it floated softly around her face. His heart ached painfully, knowing he could never live without her.
Gathering her body in a big fluffy towel, he carried her to the bed to dry and dress her in her favorite PJs. Pooh bear. A smile lit across his face at the irony of it all. She went from battling sharks and putting her precious life at risk to wearing sweet, innocent, adolescent prints.
“I love this about you,” he whispered. “You always find a way to remind me of your love of life in the silliest of ways. Don't you ever change.” He then combed and braided her hair, tucked her under the blankets and then laid down next to her.
“I love you so much.” He kissed her cheek. Sam stirred, snuggling next to his arm and he pulled her close, still feeling helpless. Maybe Dr. Quimby had a point about prayer... He was still awake when her parents walked in.
“How’s she doing?” Dr. Quimby asked, sitting on the bed next to his brother-in-law.
“Still out. I hope you don’t mind, I cleaned her up. I thought she’d be more comfortable,” Rich said softly, sitting up.
Scott smiled. “We figured you’d do that. Thank you. She’ll be fine, she’s just sleeping.”
“I know, but I’m bothered by the events that brought her here. It’s the first time I’ve had to really experience the reality of a mission. The waiting and worrying.”
“It never gets easier, Rich. But we will support each other while they’re gone. That’s what family is for,” Dr. Quimby reassured him. “It’s late, why don’t you get some rest?”
“May I stay in with her tonight? Please?”
Her father nodded. “Go ahead. Wake us if you need anything. We’ll get you up for work in the morning. The kids need to take off for the day.”
“Okay, thanks. Good night.”
“Good night, Rich. Sleep well.” Dr. Quimby patted his shoulder before kissing his daughter’s cheek. Scott repeated the same and closed the door as they left. Rich took off his shirt and slid under the blankets, pulling her once again to his hard, furry chest.
Sam snuggled against him, nuzzling his pecs. “You smell so good,” she murmured.
Rich smiled, kissing her head. “Go back to sleep. I’m here.”
***
Jen woke up crying in Michael’s arms. She’d had a nightmare that he had been hurt. Michael held her, reassuring her that it was just a dream.
“I’m sorry. I was so scared for you. I love—” She suddenly stopped, realizing what she was saying.
Michael kissed her, his mouth covering hers and muffling her cries. “I love you, too. I’m okay. Don’t be afraid.”
Relieved, Jen threw her arms around his neck, covering his face with kisses. “You make me so happy! I love you, I love you, I love you!”
“Jen, honey, it’s 0330. You need to work tomorrow and— what are you doing?”
Jen grinned evilly, raising her head from his stomach. “About to show you how much I love you. Go to sleep. If you can.”
Michael smiled, closing his eyes as he stretched back onto his pillow. A loud sigh escaped him as Jen began to stroke his shaft with her hand, massaging his balls with the other as her tongue twirled and swirled around the head of his cock. She grazed him with her teeth before focusing on the very tip with her lips, and then ventured down to gently suck his hardening testicles. His body grew rigid as she continued to trace her tongue and lips over the stiff rod, moving it side-to-side as she ventured again from the base to the tip. She purred, swallowing him whole and milkin
g him with the back of her throat.
“Oh, my god,” Michael whispered, twining his fingers through her hair. He groaned, releasing his seed into her mouth. Jen smiled with satisfaction, swallowing every, fragrant drop.
***
Dr. Quimby gently shook Rich the next morning to wake him for work. Stretching, Rich released his hold on the sleeping girl and sat up in bed.
“How did she do?”
“Slept all night without a sound. She looks more relaxed. I don’t suppose I could stay home with her today?”
“Sorry, but with both of them out for the day you’re in charge of the labs. By the way, we’ve got a promotion in the works for you.” Dr. Quimby elbowed him as he stood.
“Really? But, I haven’t…”
“You need it for this position and we were able to convince the board that you have earned the command. Just waiting now. We should have it in a few days.”
“Cool. Thanks so much. I won’t let you down.”
“I know you won’t. Get up and dress. You can come with us if you like.”
“Sure thing. I’ll see you in a few minutes. Joe?” Rich spontaneously hugged the older man. “Thanks for everything. Including her.”
Dr. Quimby hugged him back warmly. “I’m so glad she found you. You know we love you. You have a home here, you know.”
“I do, and it feels really good. I don't know what I would be doing without this family in my life,” Rich said softly, overwhelmed with emotion.
***
Sam woke at three that afternoon. She slowly sat up in bed and tried to recall the events of the night before. A vase of fresh cut roses rested on her dresser, a gift from her Uncle Scott. On the pillow next to her was a box containing tiny little silver shark earrings - a memento from her brother. He must have gone shopping while she slept.
She ached all over and her muscles screamed in protest with every movement. She smiled, noticing that she had been dressed in her Pooh PJs, and briefly wondered who the culprit was. It had to have been Rich, for no one in her family would have scrubbed out the tub or cleaned the bathroom counters of her regular disarray.
Healing (General's Daughter Book 5) Page 1
