Seducing A S.E.A.L.

by Jamie Sobrato

  “This is a lot of food. Want to share?”

  “Sure, I’ll eat a little,” he said, swiping a piece of melon.

  She ate silently for a few minutes, taking little bites as if she were testing her body’s ability to ingest anything.

  She put down her fork and regarded him solemnly. “Listen,” she said, “I’m really sorry about what happened last night. Clearly things got out of control, and—”

  “Please stop. You don’t need to apologize for anything. We were both consenting adults.” He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear her apologize as if she regretted what had been a life-altering experience for him. He still needed a little time to process what had happened before he dove into talking about his feelings and their future. It all needed to be clearer in his head before they could talk about where they’d go from here.

  And, yeah, since the night had been fueled by alcohol, he wanted to give her some time to recover from her hangover.

  “True, but we’re consenting adults who are a part of the same unit, and we have to consider…” She paused.

  “We have to consider what?” he asked, his instincts sensing he was about to hear something he wouldn’t like.

  She took a deep breath and continued. “Obviously we have to consider how our careers could be impacted by our behavior. I want to make it clear that this won’t affect any of our interactions at work.”

  “Of course it will,” he blurted. “I mean, how could it not?”

  She blinked, and he could see her cheeks turn red. When she spoke again, it was with much deliberation.

  “I’m very aware that I’m your superior. I am in a precarious position because I can’t allow sleeping with you to affect how I evaluate your work performance. More than that, if anyone found out about this, about us, I could lose my career.”

  Drew’s stomach turned at her words. He’d been thinking about what a momentous event this had been in his life, and all she could worry about was how it might affect her goddamn career?

  “I don’t know what to say. If you’re worried about me telling people, don’t. I won’t say a word.”

  “Thank you,” she said, visibly relieved, and he felt then as if she’d kicked him in the gut.

  “Sure, don’t mention it,” he said a bit too churlishly, and she looked at him curiously.

  “Are you bothered by what I said?”

  “How could I not be? I don’t like being considered your drunken mistake or a potential threat to your career.”

  She blushed a deeper red. “I’m sorry. I mean, I thought you’d understand that obviously, we can’t let this go any further than last night.”

  “I get it,” he said.

  “No matter how great it was,” she added, as if that might smooth things over.

  “Yeah, right.”

  She looked at her food like she couldn’t swallow another bite. Drew didn’t have much of an appetite now himself. He dropped the toast on his nightstand beside his neglected cup of coffee and lay down, his head spinning now.

  Had he fabricated the woman from last night? No, he hadn’t. But why had he dared to think the hard-ass Lieutenant Commander Thomas was a different woman from the Kylie who sat with him at the bar?

  He was naive, that’s why. She had nearly a decade on him when it came to putting her career above all else. Which explained why she was always alone, had never had a boyfriend for as long as he’d known her, as far as he could tell. Then again, maybe her M.O. was getting loaded, picking up guys, then giving them the brush-off after she’d screwed their brains out.

  She set aside her tray and rolled onto her side, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’ve upset you,” she said, stating the obvious.

  Great. He was clearly acting like a pouting child, drawing attention to the age difference between them—which, until this moment, hadn’t been a big deal to him. Well, he didn’t give a damn, because he wasn’t about to separate his heart from how he lived his life. If there was anything he’d learned from the past few years, it was that life was fleeting. You had to appreciate the things that mattered and chase after the things you wanted while you had the chance.

  “I thought I felt a real connection between us.”

  She bit her lip, regarding him with a mixture of embarrassment and earnestness. “You did. I mean, of course you did. But I think that’s partly because we endured a major life trauma together. Like the shrink says, it makes sense that we’d seize upon something good and life-affirming in the face of tragedy.”

  “If it’s so good and life-affirming, then why do we have to pretend it didn’t happen?”

  “You know why. The Navy expects us to put what’s good for our country ahead of what might be good for us personally. We accepted that when we became officers. And nothing good can come of a commander sleeping with her subordinate, as far as the Navy is concerned.”

  Drew said nothing, his pride still wounded.

  He didn’t want her writing off what had happened between them as purely the result of their having endured a tragedy together. It hadn’t been that way for him and he didn’t want it to have been that way for her. When he’d gotten over the tightness in his throat, he spoke without considering his words. “Last week wasn’t the first time I’ve been through grim circumstances. I’ve been to war, and two years ago, I lost my sister—my best friend—to cancer.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “My point is, I can tell the difference between an emotional response to tragedy, and a real genuine connection with another person.”

  “We don’t get to pursue every emotional connection we feel with another person.”

  “Neither of us is married, or involved with anyone else, right?”

  “Right, but—”

  “I don’t believe in putting my career above all else. I just can’t live my life that way.”

  It was her turn to be silent. She looked away from him toward the window where the orange glow of sunrise was showing.

  Drew wondered how true his words really were. He’d sacrificed a lot for his career so far. And if he made the S.E.A.L. team as he hoped, he’d be sacrificing a lot more. Was he really so different from Kylie?

  “Tell me about your sister,” she finally said. “I mean, if you don’t mind. I’d like to know what she was like.”

  He’d learned everything he needed to know about life from watching the most important person in his life die: love fiercely, take nothing for granted and never for a second make the mistake of thinking life is fair.

  Enough time had passed. He’d finally gotten to a point where thinking about Abby didn’t make him unbearably sad. He could remember all that was good about her now, and he held on to those memories for dear life.

  “Her name was Abby. We were close growing up because our mother was a wreck, and we didn’t have much choice but to take care of each other.”

  “Was your dad around?”

  “Not for long. He bailed when I was six, and my mom never recovered. She went looking for the answer to her troubles at the bottom of a wine bottle, and things kept falling further and further apart.”

  She listened, not offering any unnecessary condolences.

  “Abby was a serious person, but she had a silly side that I brought out of her. She was four years older than me, and she is probably the main reason I’ve made anything of my life. She looked out for me when no one else did, and she made sure I did well in school, got into college and stayed on track.”

  “And she died just two years ago?”

  Drew nodded. “Exactly a year after she found out she had breast cancer. It seemed like the most unfair thing in the world that could ever happen. It still does.”

  “It must have been hell to watch her go through that.”

  “The worst part was, I’d finished college, gotten my commission and went straight to Iraq. I couldn’t even be with her most of that final year.”

  “Oh God, I’m sorry.”

  “She sent me Web c
am photos of herself wasting away. She had a sick sense of humor sometimes, and she was always making jokes about her hair falling out and stuff.”

  “You must still feel the loss,” Kylie said, looking at him earnestly. It touched him that she really seemed to empathize.

  He said nothing, but instead cast his gaze toward the window and the sunrise.

  He’d never cried on anyone’s shoulder, and he really had mourned the loss of his sister past the point of her memory still being painful. But right now he could have curled up beside Kylie and cried himself a pool of tears on the pillow.

  Part of him loved that Kylie managed to bring out such strong feelings in him, even while part of him braced for the return of Lieutenant Commander Thomas.

  He wasn’t sure if he’d been fooling himself about the woman he thought he’d glimpsed in her last night—or if the alcohol had colored his view—but the woman watching him now with so much soulfulness in her eyes was definitely the Kylie he wanted to know better.

  5

  KYLIE COULD NOT have been a bigger jerk. She had let the misery of her hangover and her fear of the consequences get in the way of any sensitivity with which she might have handled the situation, and in her callousness she’d likely done irreparable damage. She knew exactly what Drew felt last night, because she felt it, too. There’d been something incredibly intense about their coming together, something that, in another time and place, might have promised so much more.

  She looked at him stretched out next to her, wearing nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs, and she felt a rush of warmth between her legs at the sight of him. They’d had amazing sex—sex that she’d love to repeat. Not that she could imagine doing anything at the moment. Her headache might have mostly vanished, and her nausea had passed, but she still felt weak and exhausted…on top of feeling like an utter jerk for blurting out the career talk so quickly and so awkwardly.

  And she’d managed to bring the mood in the room even lower by asking about his dead sister. The tone in his voice had spoken volumes about how deep his affection for Abby went. Kylie was touched by that. Not having a sibling herself, she envied their relationship, even though he’d suffered a profound loss.

  That he was mature enough to talk about it as he had also spoke volumes about his character.

  “Thank you for telling me about your sister,” Kylie said, rolling onto her belly and resting her chin on her hands. “I’ve never lost anyone like that, so I count myself lucky.”

  Drew said nothing, just looked thoughtful, and the silence began to weigh heavily between them, making Kylie feel like she needed to fill the space with words.

  But what?

  She sensed that he didn’t want to share any more personal stuff right now, and she didn’t see the point of getting more intimate. That direction led to a relationship and the only relationship in their future was a professional one. If she brought up the career impact issue again, she’d only insult him further. If she tried to reassure him she did indeed feel the spark between them, she’d sound as fake as she had earlier.

  “I wish the circumstances between us were different,” she finally said, bracing herself for the fallout.

  He simply looked over at her and sighed. “Me, too,” he said without any anger or resentment.

  Good. Maybe he had come to terms with reality and wasn’t going to make any further noise about pursuing a connection. Maybe they could navigate this situation smoothly, and no one’s career would have to suffer.

  Kylie, for the first time as an officer, found herself feeling the unpleasant chafing of having to be the responsible, upright one when she would have preferred to flout the rules. She’d gone along with the Navy’s idea of right and wrong for so long—since the age of eighteen when she entered the Naval Academy—that she’d ceased to question it. But now…

  Now she was thinking and acting like a fool, and she needed to get out of this much younger subordinate’s bed before she did anything else profoundly stupid for the sake of a little sex. Albeit fabulous sex.

  “Are you finished with this?” Drew said, nodding at the tray of food she’d set aside.

  “Yes. Thanks for that. It was good even if I didn’t do it justice.”

  “Don’t mention it.” He rose, and Kylie watched as he took the food and drinks back to the kitchen.

  She needed to get out of here. ASAP.

  Tentatively she rolled over and sat up, doing her best not to upset her equilibrium. So far, so good. She went to the bathroom to clean up. When she finished and came back out, she found her clothes lying on the foot of Drew’s bed. He was across the room getting dressed.

  “I can call a cab so we can get our cars from the bar, if you’re feeling up to it.”

  “Good idea,” Kylie said. “I should be getting home. I have to go into the office. With everything that’s been going on and the counseling and stuff, I’ve got tons to catch up on.”

  “Yeah, me, too, boss.” Drew zipped up his pants and sat on the edge of the bed to put on his shoes.

  Kylie bit her lip to keep from reacting to the boss comment, which was not only inappropriate, but also technically disrespectful, since if he was going to refer to her in a work context, he was supposed to call her ma’am. Of course, they’d already piled inappropriateness on top of inappropriateness, so now was no time to be a stickler for the rules. She forced herself not to watch him, either, as tempting as the sight of him without a shirt on was.

  Instead she found her own shoes that Drew had placed on the floor near the bed and started to put them on, then thought better of it when she felt herself growing queasy again.

  “I think I need to lie down for a bit,” she mumbled as Drew picked up the telephone.

  “Are you sure you’re up for a cab ride right now?” he asked as he waited on the phone.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  He put in the request, then hung up and sat on the opposite side of the bed. “They’ll be here in about fifteen minutes. Why don’t you rest? I’ll let you know when it’s time to go.”

  Kylie was too weak and tired to do anything but go along with that plan. “Thanks,” she said, wishing that she’d had the good sense not to drink so much.

  What on earth had she been thinking?

  Oh, right. She’d been trying not to think. That was the problem.

  And then she remembered what she’d been trying not to think about. At least she’d accomplished that goal.

  Her gut wrenched as her mind skirted thoughts of the shooting. She closed her eyes and forced her mind in a different direction. As usual visions of Drew filled her head, only this time reality mixed with fantasy in a steamy combination. Images of her limbs wrapped around his, of him over her, under her, pressing his cock deep inside her, of sheets tangling around them, locking them together, collided in the brain. Hotter than her hottest fantasy, she couldn’t resist letting herself taste him again.

  Then Drew’s voice interrupted her private film clips with news of the cab’s arrival. Kylie opened her eyes, realized she’d dozed off and sat up. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but thank God, the cab was here. She could get as far away from Drew as possible.

  They rode in stiff silence to the bar, and once there, Kylie was relieved when Drew didn’t make a big deal of saying goodbye. They’d see each other in a few hours at the office anyway.

  But as she was driving home, Kylie realized she did not want to return to an empty condo. The closer to her street she got, the stronger her stomach rebelled. She didn’t want to hear the echo of her own footsteps on the hardwood floor, or see the dishes from yesterday’s breakfast still in the sink waiting for her.

  She’d relished living alone ever since she’d escaped the roommate deal first through dorm life at the Naval Academy, then during her years as an ensign, when shared accommodations were practically a necessity on that pay scale. She’d grown to hate navigating the minefields of household chores, bathroom time and overnight guests. Having her own s
pace had been pure decadence after those experiences and she’d basked in having to answer to no one except herself. At the moment, however, answering to herself—not to mention facing herself in the mirror—was the problem. And it wasn’t something she could avoid through the distraction of a roommate.

  Nope. Her wild indiscretion and her worries over how it would all play out at work loomed. And tag teaming thoughts of work was the echo of gunfire in her head, the screams of her coworkers. A punishing soundtrack for the horrific images of those who’d been shot on the floor of her office. It was unbearable.

  She pulled into her assigned parking spot under the carport at her condo. She couldn’t go inside. No matter how loud she turned on the stereo or TV, she wouldn’t be able to drown out the noise and the pictures in her head. There was no getting away from herself in a place filled with her. She couldn’t be home alone right now. But she had nowhere else to go on a Tuesday morning with her hair still disheveled from sleep and wearing last night’s clothes. She had to get cleaned up, put on her uniform and pretend everything was okay for another day.

  Even if she made it through today, she still had to figure out how to make it through tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that, and…

  Coping should have gotten easier in the time since the shooting. Instead everything was feeling more and more out of control, as if she couldn’t handle one more thing. Hence, her indiscretion.

  Maybe having companionship last night had only highlighted for her in big, bold letters how much she didn’t want to be alone.

  Maybe she should use some of her accrued vacation time to go back to Iowa to visit her parents. Or go up to Washington to visit friends. Or take a friend on a trip somewhere warm and tropical where she could simply lie on the beach for a few weeks and get lost in a paperback novel.

  Kylie got out of the car, her options sounding like too much effort for too little reward in her current disconcerted, hungover state. She trudged up the sidewalk toward her door, her chest growing tighter with each step. As she reached the door, it took all her willpower not to turn around and get back in the car to drive away. She wanted to go where there would be people and noise and distraction from the turmoil inside her.