Stone Hard SEALs

by Sabrina York

  “Oh God.” He didn’t mean to groan. He’d spent a chunk of his life in Coronado. He knew the town well.

  “Yeah. I grew up surrounded by SEAL wannabes.”

  That explained a lot. Her attitude toward him at least. Townies didn’t always appreciate the raucous antics on and off base. “We’re not all total jerks.”

  “I know that.” He heard the smile in her voice. “Some of you are only partial jerks.”

  “That’s hardly fair.”

  “Hey, just calling ’em as I see ’em.”

  “Go on. Dis the guy who risked his ass to rescue you.”

  “Ass is right.”

  They both laughed again. It seemed natural then to curl his arm around her neck and ease her closer. To cover her lips with his.

  And shitfire and damnation. She tasted sweet. Of peppermint, certainly, but something more, something elementally female, sweet and irresistible. When he deepened the kiss, easing in his tongue, she let him. Then she met his with hers. When she drew him into her mouth and sucked, he nearly came out of his skin.

  His blood heated and his pulse thrummed. He rolled over so he was on top—because he really liked being on top—and laced this fingers into her hair and deepened the kiss.

  Ah. He’d known. Somehow, he’d known she’d be wild once her passion was roused. He’d thought he’d felt sexual tension between them, but he’d been wrong before.

  He was glad he wasn’t wrong now.

  Her body was a perfect fit with his, soft where he was hard, curved where he was angled. He rubbed against her and whorls of pleasure danced through his crotch. When she rubbed back, they rose to nest in his gut. Goddamn, she was hot.

  Her hands scudded over his shoulders and chest, her nails raked his back. Her frenzy rose and she took him along with her—but truly, he was already there.

  He’d never kissed a woman in a damp cave before. He’d certainly never kissed a woman in the middle of a mission. But something about it—her limbs tangling with his, the ambient sounds of the night and the shush of the waves, the press of her belly against his cock—something enflamed him.

  Or maybe it was the qat.

  Whatever.

  He didn’t care. He was breathless, mindless, wrapped in the tight fist of lust.

  As he consumed her mouth, he caressed her, dragging his palm over her shoulders, down her arm to her waist. He delighted in the inward curve, and then skated back up…under her t-shirt. Her skin was warm and silky and it rippled to his touch. She let out a sigh.

  He shuddered as he found her breast. Heavy and full. Her nipple was hard, pebbled. He thumbed it. She made a noise in the back of her throat and dug her nails in deeper.

  Naturally, he interpreted this as more. He gave it to her.

  He yanked up her shirt and found her nipple with his mouth. Her bra annoyed him, but he worked around it, tugging it down so he could get a hold on a bare crest. Damn, she tasted sweet. As he sucked and laved and nibbled, drawing the nubbin out to more prominence, she writhed beneath him, making small mewling sounds.

  God, he could suck on her all day. He wished he could see. It pissed him off that he couldn’t see, but if he stopped to find a fucking glow stick, it might ruin the mood.

  She was prickly, after all.

  As he fed on one creamy breast and then the other, he unzipped her jeans and slid his hand into her panties. He found her crease and a shudder took him as he felt the cream of her arousal. She was wet.

  Holy fuck.

  He drew a finger along the slit and then pressed in. He knew when he’d found her clit. Knew immediately. She nearly howled. He stifled her cries with his mouth, kissing her again as he explored her center. Her nub was hard. He teased her mercilessly until she panted and wailed—into his mouth.

  It was glorious. Fucking glorious.

  He shoved his hand deeper, so he could find her entrance. Not a lot of room to maneuver, but he was a SEAL and used to working in tight places. It took some doing, but he eased down—and in.

  She stiffened. Her breath caught. Her grip on his arms tightened. “Jesus,” she breathed. “God.”

  Oh yeah.

  He thrust deeper with two fingers. She was tight, hot, wet. It was mind-boggling. His eyes crossed at the thought of fitting his dick into her taut channel. She would be a wild ride. An outrageous fuck.

  It was a goddamn shame that couldn’t happen. Not here. Not now.

  He could bring her to pleasure, though. It was only fair that he give her something back. She had saved his life.

  He wasn’t sure where this melancholy came from. He certainly had no idea from where his restraint sprouted. He’d never wanted a woman as much as he wanted Brandy. It was a damn shame he’d have to settle for having her like this.

  He increased his pace, working her, teasing her and then giving her what she needed, wanted, craved.

  She came around him in a heated wash, her body dissolving into a series of hellish quivers.

  Damn. Damn. Damn. What he wouldn’t give to be in her.

  But that wasn’t going to happen. He didn’t have a condom. If he had one rule in life…that was it.

  It didn’t help that, after she’d caught her breath, she reached for his cock. He captured her hand in a tight cuff.

  “What?” she whispered, caressing him gently despite his hold.

  “We…can’t.”

  She stilled. “We…can’t?”

  He kissed her. “Baby, I’m prepared for a lot of things, but I’m not prepared for this.” Shit. He’d never imagined he’d need to prepare for this.

  “Ah.”

  “Unless you have a condom…?” It was probably idiotic to ask.

  “I do.” His heart leaped. “In my suitcase, but I have no idea where it is. The pirates took all our stuff.”

  It was small consolation that she sounded disappointed, but it was consolation. The fact that she would have let him…well, that she would have let him, was fan-fucking-tastic.

  As prickly as she was, she was a lusty minx.

  He lurched as she brushed against him again. “Brandy…”

  “It’s hardly fair that I got release and you didn’t,” she said in a very serious voice. “What kind of nurse would I be if I left my patient…in pain?” His pulse thudded. His breath caught. His muscles clenched as she undid his pants.

  She wanted to play doctor?

  Who was he to complain?

  Chapter Five

  Unbelievable.

  Brandy had come before, but never in a firestorm like that. Her body still trembled with reaction, but the burn in her belly—for more—urged her on. She wanted, ached, for a taste of him.

  The vision of his cock had never left her mind. Not really. It had hovered there, an irritation, along with the searing yearning for what she was just about to do.

  She loved that he was compliant, silent, tense, as she unzipped his pants and pulled down his briefs—for the third time tonight.

  Apparently the third time was the charm.

  His cock was no longer quiescent, as it had been when she’d seen it before. It was hard and pulsing and, damn, much longer. She swallowed the drool in her mouth and fisted him, aiming his rod for heaven. She swirled her tongue over the fat mushroom head and he hissed in a breath. He tasted salty and sweet, as though a pearl of cum had been waiting for her. She moaned as she took him in, loving his scent—earthy and musky and manly.

  His cock filled her mouth. She took him deeper, reveling in the shivers running through his body, the tightening hold of his fingers on her head. He tried to guide her, but she needed no guidance. Wanted none.

  She wanted nothing but to ravage him and make him helpless. Make him squirm beneath her. Make him lose all control.

  The realization that she had total power over this strong, indomitable man sent a shot of exhilaration through her. She knew whatever this was, it was a one-night thing. It wasn’t a relationship or anything like it. They would pleasure each other, relieve th
e tension, and then, when this was over, they would part.

  A trickle of regret sifted through her at the thought but she ignored it. She resolved to focus on the now. On the feel of him as he filled her mouth, her throat. The warmth of him as he shifted and groaned. The power of him as he surged.

  She wrapped her fist around his root and stroked, sucking him in a rhythmic motion.

  “Shit.” His grip on her tightened. “Shit, shit, shit.”

  She knew he was close. She could feel it in the tautening of his muscles, the ripples of his skin. He sucked in a breath and held it. His intensity swelled.

  His cock swelled too.

  She cupped his balls, rolling them gently, and he exploded, filling her with jet after jet of his sweet cum. She swallowed it down and lapped for more, cleaning him and soothing him as he caught his breath.

  She smiled.

  Damn, but that had been fun.

  It was too bad when this was all over they’d never see each other again…and it was a damn shame one of them hadn’t thought to bring a condom to a rescue.

  Because she really would have liked to ride him.

  * * *

  After he came—rather magnificently—Drake was racked with a wave of exhaustion, but it was a pleasant feeling. Part of that could have been the effects of the qat, or the effects of that orgasm, or the effects of his wound. Still he fought it off. He lay there in that musty cave and held Brandy close, enjoying the warmth of her body against his. He didn’t want to fall asleep—he just wanted to enjoy this—but, apparently, at some point, he did.

  And fuck, he wished he hadn’t drifted off, because when he woke up, he was alone.

  Anemic threads of sunlight lit the cave; it seemed cold and empty because she wasn’t fucking there.

  He really loved that Brandy was an adventurous soul and all, but it was damned annoying when a woman got some wild hair up her ass and slipped out of a perfectly safe hiding place to go…to go do whatever it was she’d gone and done.

  Panic snarled through him as he realized he had no idea where she was. Or if she was safe. If there were pirates crawling all over this island, why the hell would she slip out to fucking frolic with them?

  Drake wasn’t used to panic. He wasn’t used to not having everything under control. He sure as shit wasn’t used to being fucking helpless. Frustration and worry bubbled in his gut in a toxic slurry.

  Which was probably why he snapped, “Where the fuck were you?” at her when she returned with a backpack slung over her shoulder—not even waiting until she was all the way back in the shelter.

  She glared at him and finished settling the bushes back in place. They were leafy and full, but it was still possible to see through the lacy curtain to the beach. “Hush.”

  “Don’t tell me to hush! I woke up and you were gone! Damn it, Brandy! I nearly had a heart attack.”

  “Oh, take a chill pill.”

  “We’re supposed to stay together. You’re not supposed to go out on your own.”

  “You were sleeping.”

  “You should have woken me.”

  “Trust me. I tried. Besides, I had to…use the facilities.”

  “You were gone way too long for that.”

  “Well…” She tipped her head to the side. “While I was out there, I decided to do some scouting around.”

  His heart thudded. It was already thudding but this thud was louder…and painful. “Scouting a— What the fuck?”

  “For one thing, I wanted to see if I could find any of the others.”

  “What?”

  “I’d like to know my friends are safe.”

  “Are you insane?” Was she insane? There were pirates out there. “Of course they’re safe. Your friends are in the hands of some of the best fucking SEALs on the planet.”

  There was no call for her to look him up and down in a way that made the hairs on his nape prickle. As though he weren’t one of them. As though he hadn’t kept her safe. He damn well had. He damn well would. If she could keep her ass in the cave, that was.

  “Besides, you should be pleased that I did.” She shifted the backpack onto her lap with a grunt.

  “Where did you get that?”

  “I found the spot where the pirates dumped all our stuff. Suitcases and water…” She pulled out a bottle and handed it to him.

  He cracked it open but made sure his glower didn’t let up. She should not have gone out alone. Not. Not. Not. And without a weapon? His blood went cold.

  “What if there had been pirates out there?”

  “Oh, there were.”

  Water spewed.

  He was going to throttle her. Simply throttle her. His fingers closed on the bottle and a spurt cascaded over his hand. “What?” A croak.

  “Yeah. About three. But they were sleeping. So I snuck in and loaded up.”

  “Are you insane?” The question bore repeating.

  She grinned, proving to him, at least, that she undoubtedly was.

  “You could have been captured again. Or worse, killed.”

  Her sigh was heavy. “They’re just boys, Drake. They’re probably more afraid of me than I am of them.”

  “Their fear does not make you safe. Men who are frightened do desperate things. Boys who are frightened do them with far less thought.”

  “Oh, quit your belly achin’. I got food too. Real food. Not that MRE shit.” His mouth watered as she displayed a can of peaches with Vanna-like panache. He loved peaches. “Do you have a can opener?”

  He found it in an eager rush and handed it to her. She seemed familiar with the intricacies of the P-38—which was a miracle—and in short shrift, she opened the can and handed it to him.

  As much as he wanted to grab it and snarf it down, he didn’t. “You first.” That was a rule he’d learned by the time he was five. Ladies first.

  Brandy frowned and thrust the can at him again. “Just take a sip. The juice is good. And you need the carbs.”

  “You need the carbs too. You just went fucking foraging.”

  She grinned. “I already ate.”

  “You already ate?” Without him? He put out a lip.

  “There were some protein bars.” She shifted up and a bunch of bars spilled from her pocket. He grabbed one and ripped it open. Manna.

  “What else did you get?”

  She started unloading items from the bag and he slurped a peach into his mouth, barely restraining his moan of ecstasy. “Clean socks.” She sniffed them. “I think they’re clean. A fresh shirt for each of us. More food.” Cans of tuna, vegetables and fruit. “A bunch of water bottles and…”

  He looked at her as she trailed off. “What?”

  A flush rose on her cheeks. “Nothing.”

  Oh, no. Whatever it was, it wasn’t nothing. He grabbed the bag and shuffled through the mélange as she tried to grab it back. The glint of a foil package caught his attention. He dove for it. Whoa, mama.

  His pulse skittered.

  He stared at her.

  Her blush blossomed.

  “Brandy, Brandy, Brandy.” He waggled the string of condoms at her. Not one. A fucking string of them. “You are a naughty girl.” He couldn’t hold back his grin.

  She’d enjoyed their, ahem, playtime enough to brave pirates with guns to bring him condoms. It was all he could do not to puff out his chest.

  Okay, maybe a little.

  She waved her hand at the bag. “I just…it was…” She frowned. “They were there.”

  He leaned forward and whispered, “I love a woman who plans ahead.”

  “I’m not saying that anything is going to… I just thought… Goddamn it. They were there.”

  “I get it. Hey, I ain’t complaining.” He surveyed the long string. He counted seven of them. “You really must think highly of me, though.” He winked. “If I weren’t injured…”

  “Shut up.” She snatched them back and shoved them into the backpack.

  “Hey. Be gentle with those. We’re gonna ne
ed them later.”

  This made her still. She peeped up at him, her expression hopeful. He shouldn’t have smirked, because then she glared at him again and snapped, “No, we won’t.”

  “Oh yes, we will.”

  “You’re injured.”

  “Trust me. I’m fully functional. And…” He had to add this. “Last night was amazing.”

  She grunted.

  “Wasn’t it?”

  “I suppose.”

  “You suppose?” He edged closer. When she didn’t look up, when she kept pretending to riffle the contents of the bag, he lifted her chin. “Tell me it wasn’t magnificent.” To encourage her to the correct response, he nuzzled her lips. Damn, they were soft and sweet. And yes, she kissed him back. Oh sure, only tentatively at first, but then she really got into it.

  He was about to lay her down and test out one of those condoms—or two—when she pulled away and said, “Not now.”

  He gaped at her. “Not now?”

  “No.”

  “You got something else to do?”

  If Brandy could do one thing well and with consistency, it was frown. “Quit being such a horndog.”

  “I’m not the one who brought all the condoms to the party. You got my hopes up, baby.”

  “There are pirates out there.”

  “Sorry, I only like women.”

  She smacked his shoulder, but he saw her grin. Before she hid it. “That’s not what I’m saying. We need to be quiet and you…”

  “What?”

  She sighed. “You’re kind of a howler.”

  “I am not a howler!”

  “Ya kinda are.”

  He glowered at her. She stared back, her eyes all bugged out, as though underscoring her declaration.

  After a moment, he mumbled, “Am not,” to which she responded with a snort.

  “Let’s just eat and rest. We’re leaving for the other island when it gets dark, right?”

  “Right.” He flexed his leg. The wound still ached, but he’d had worse.

  Concern flickered over her features. “Will you be able to walk?”

  “Sure.”

  Of course he could.

  And if he couldn’t, he would anyway.

  They spent the day eating and drinking and resting…and talking. Oddly enough, Brandy found she really enjoyed talking to Drake. He was a squid, so it was a new experience for her, enjoying a conversation with one. This was a species she usually avoided like the plague. He told stories of his adventures—the bits that weren’t classified—and some of his tales had her laughing her ass off.