Hot Alpha SEALs: Military Romance Megaset

by Sharon Hamilton

  *

  Marlena woke surrounded by hard warmth. She wasn’t in Mr. Romatar’s compound, this wasn’t her bed… The night before flashed in her memory. The last thing she remembered was sipping a beer and snuggling next to Trace. Slowly, she turned over, and there he was—rugged, and inches away from her. In his bed. Her stomach surged into her throat.

  “Morning,” he whispered.

  Unsure of the right thing to say, she sat up. “I should go.”

  The heavy weight of his arm flopped over her and pulled her tight. “You should not.”

  He couldn’t possibly want her to say. Right? Instead of voicing that, she lay straight as a spike and stared at his ceiling.

  “Marlena.”

  “Hmm?”

  “Go back to sleep.” His morning, gritty voice raked over her senses.

  “I’m really okay. I should get—”

  Trace took her face in his hands and leveled her with the softest kiss she could imagine. His full lips brushed over hers; his tongue teased. She melted against him, needing that reassurance and hating that one kiss, and she was a mess.

  “Now can we go back to sleep?” His phone rang. “What the fuck now?”

  Hand slapping all around his nightstand, he finally found it and answered. The alarm clock read six in the morning. Who would call so early?

  “Got it,” he said to the caller after a few seconds. He rubbed his face and sat up. The blanket slipped off him, and even through his jeans, she could see that he had a hard-on. “Don’t mind me.”

  Trace stretched and crawled out of bed. Every muscle in the man’s body was carved. Corded. Holy moly, she might pass out. Had she ever seen something so ruggedly handsome? And the tattoos… A work of art. That was the only way to describe him.

  “We’ve got a job, and I’ve got to run.” He dropped his jeans and walked toward his closet.

  Holy moly? More like “Holy butt cheeks.” Marlena sucked a breath, fell back on the bed, and covered her face with a pillow. “Trace, you are too much to handle.”

  She heard his laugh then peeled back the edge of the pillow.

  “I thought that about you last night, and seriously, if something wasn’t very time-sensitive, I’d give the boss the finger and stay here with you. Santa-bear jammies and all.”

  Chapter Nine

  ‡

  Delta hit jobs hard. Trace loved that. Just like when he was on his SEAL team, they worked nonstop, pushed their operations to the brink of no return then sidled back home. But there was that catch again: home. He itched to get back to Afghanistan, itched to scour the desert for answers and find his brother’s missing personal effects. There hadn’t been much to bury after the IED did hit. All he wanted was his brother’s goddamn dog tags. Shit. Trace rubbed his hand over his face. Without thinking, he hit the only number he had programmed into his phone.

  Marlena picked up on the second ring. “Hi.”

  “How’d you know it was me?”

  “No one else has this number.”

  That made him feel good, possessive, as though no one else should have that number. “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to catch up on missed chapters. Turns out when you can’t tell your professor you were abducted by international terrorists, you don’t get a free pass on missed classes and notes.”

  He laughed dully. “Sucks.”

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “Where did you go? What’d you do?” Marlena asked.

  “You know. Same old.”

  “Rescued another one-night stand. Super stud, huh?”

  That time, he laughed genuinely then hated himself. He was on the phone; Michael was dead. Trace had been kicked off his SEAL team—that would’ve destroyed his brother—and he was flirting with a pretty girl that he’d been excited to call when he got home. What. The. Hell. It was wrong.

  “Trace?”

  The bare walls closed in on him. He moved to the couch. The fabric scratched at him. “I think I have to go. Call you later, Mar.”

  His heart beat faster, and he tried relocating to the bed, the hallway floor, the living room. No matter where he went, he itched to escape. The easiest fix would be to crack a bottle of something with a burn. Maybe he would drink the incoming headache away. But that could be a rabbit hole, starting trouble he didn’t need with Delta.

  Though… if that happened, maybe he would come to blows with Jared or Brock. It’d feel good to get knocked around and throw a few punches. He balled his fists, needing to do something.

  Trace dropped to the floor and counted off stomach crunches. After one hundred, he gave up counting, tore off his shirt, and kept going until sweat poured off him and his muscles screamed.

  A bell rang as he growled through the last sit-up. He fell back, breathing hard. What the hell? Doorbell. Hello. He wiped his brow with his shirt and popped up. It wasn’t the Middle East. There were no war zones here. Just suburbia, where people rang doorbells, trying to sell crap Trace didn’t need. He swung the door open.

  “Hey.” Marlena stood with a six-pack in hand. “Surprise. Can I come in?”

  Her eyes raked down his half-naked body. Warmth flowed in his veins. It was the kind of heat that had nothing to do with killing himself with calisthenics. And God, she looked good—the way her shirt clung to her breasts. The way her pants covered her hips. It brought a vivid, instantaneous memory of his hands holding those hips while she rode him until she moaned.

  “Yeah.” He took a step back. “Sure.”

  She walked past him as if she owned the place and threw down her purse. Then she headed toward the kitchen and stowed the beer—minus two longnecks—in the fridge. “Here.”

  “Thanks.” All he could think about was Marlena naked. Naked and climaxing on his cock. That didn’t seem like a good conversation starter.

  “You sounded… off.”

  Not sounded. He was off. Everything was disjointed, mostly because of the routine of life and picket fences surrounding him. But some of it was Marlena. He couldn’t place his finger on it, but when she came to mind, he felt a hole in his chest as though she were something he should have but couldn’t. Or wouldn’t. His thoughts were so jacked.

  “Trace?” She put her beer on the kitchen counter. “If there’s some kind of problem with showing up unannounced, clue me in. Actually, now that I say that out loud”—she smiled, laughing—“it does sound a little much.”

  “No. It’s fine. Just… Four quiet walls make me a little claustrophobic. That’s all.”

  “That why you’re drenched in sweat?” Her nose wrinkled.

  Shit. “Yeah, guess so. Was planning to work out until I dropped, at least that was my plan.”

  “I have a cell phone again.” She wiggled it in her hand. Her eyes ran over him then shot across the kitchen. “Well, I’ll let you get back to it.”

  He did not want her to go. At all. Pressure built in his chest. “Give me a minute. Lemme shower off, and we’ll drink some beer.” There was hesitation hanging between them. “Be back in a minute. Don’t leave, Cinderella.”

  Without waiting, he turned and headed for the bathroom. Leaving her while he showered was a risk, given they’d been in this exact situation before, and it hadn’t ended well. Quick as he could, he ran shampoo through his hair and a washcloth over his body, ignoring the fact that his dick was semi-hard.

  Maybe she was on his couch. No way he was lucky enough to get out and find her in his bed. It didn’t matter. Anywhere he could lay her down and relieve the stress ratcheting up in his chest. One good kiss. One wild fuck. That would help.

  Dressed and heading toward the kitchen, he knew it before he saw: The kitchen was empty. The couch couldn’t have been more pathetic. She was gone.

  No, she wasn’t walking out on him. Not when he knew that he needed her. Burying himself in her would soothe away the empty ache in his soul. Sit-ups didn’t do shit compared to how good it’d feel to sink deep into her pussy. He wan
ted to hear her wear out his name and feel her tear scratches into his back.

  Trace grabbed his phone, not knowing her new number. The text message alert blinked for his attention. Sorry. Shouldn’t have shown up unannounced.

  The hell with apologies. He hit Call.

  She answered on the first ring. “Hey—”

  “I was gone for a second,” he growled at her.

  “And I was wrong to show up like that.”

  “Marlena.” He blew out, the tightness in his chest eating him alive. “Don’t make me chase you down.”

  “Why would you?”

  “Hell, why wouldn’t I?”

  She sighed. “I didn’t get too far.”

  He walked by a window, saw her parked in his driveway still, head leaning back. “Get back in here.”

  “Trace—”

  “Mar, don’t make me get you.”

  “I don’t respond well to orders.”

  That was bullshit. He remembered their night in the hotel room. He’d seen the look in her eyes when he’d told her to get on her knees, to play with her breasts. Goddamn, that one-night stand was hot, even weeks later. He pictured her with her eyes closed, delicate fingers squeezing her plump tits. His cock went from semi-interested to a repeat performance, begging for release. “I can’t figure out if you’re absolutely, totally used to getting your way or scared of me. You run when I say don’t. You leave when I want you to stay. You show up when I don’t expect you; you smile when I know you don’t want to.”

  She looked at him from her car.

  “When you called before, Marlena, I didn’t sound off, I was off. I was crawling the walls. Damn it.” Breathing in, he couldn’t quite get deep enough of a breath. “Get in here. I need you.”

  The car door opened. He held his breath until she was at his door. In his door. In his arms, against the wall. His lips hovered over hers. “Why?”

  “It’s hard for me to trust others, and—I don’t trust myself.”

  “I’m out of my element.” He licked her bottom lip, so full and delicious he couldn’t help but kiss her again. “Fucking you seems like the only thing that might help.”

  She nodded, tugging at his shirt. His hands ran all over her. Smooth skin, full breasts, a body made for holding. Heaven in his hands. That was the only thing that stilled his crazy mind. But she didn’t trust him—or herself—and God, all he wanted was the confident, trusting woman he’d had before.

  “When I was a stranger, you didn’t hold back. Did you?”

  She turned her face away. He caught her chin and brought her gaze back to him. “I didn’t hold back.”

  “Don’t now. Promise me.” Her eyes rounded, and she nodded, but not enough that he believed her. “Promise.”

  “I can try.”

  “I want you. You know that, right?”

  Her head tilted. “Yes.”

  But her voice was so quiet. “This red hair. Lips I want to suck.” His hands drifted over her breasts, down her stomach, teasing the snap on her pants. “These legs I want to be between. Trust me, Mar. If you don’t know how sexy you are, I’ll show you.”

  “Trace…” Still pressed against his wall, her head fell to the side when he undid her pants. Then he went back to her breasts.

  “I want the real Marlena. The girl from the one-night stand.” He walked his fingers over the silken fabric stretched across her chest. Her nipples reached for him. He tweaked one until her jaw dropped open and her eyes listed to the side. “Undress.”

  Her eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

  “Don’t make me spank that perfect round bottom.” She blinked. Her cheeks flushed, bottom lip catching between her teeth. Pure lust poured off of her, so hot the room might melt around them. “You want that, don’t you?”

  Her fingers toyed with the hem of her shirt. But not fast enough. “You don’t know what I want.”

  “Goddamn, pretty girl. You’re wet just thinking about it, aren’t you?”

  Her breathing started faster. Soft, luscious breasts begged for his rough hands. She nodded. “I’m…”

  “You’ll trust me to take care of you.”

  She nodded again.

  “You’ll know how sexy you are, even if I have to force it on you. I’ll bring you to the edge and make you come and come again.”

  Still nodding, she whispered, “Yes.”

  “Lose your clothes.”

  Her shirt, shorts, bra, and thong were on the ground in seconds. He spun her around, breasts and cheeks pressed against the wall, and he walked his fingers down the ridge of her spine, letting them stop on the swell of her ass. All his pent-up energy, that rip-the-walls-down tension, was gone, and he could only focus on her.

  Completely naked, she peeked over her shoulder. “But you’re still dressed.”

  Smack. “Quiet, pretty girl.”

  She moaned, and he smoothed his palm over the spot he’d spanked. “Feel good?”

  “No.”

  “Liar.” He did it again.

  Her head fell back a little. “I don’t understand.”

  “Why you like it?” Because fuck him, he didn’t either. But it had to do with that almost smile that surfaced on her face after she absorbed the sting.

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “Fingers between your legs. Touch yourself.”

  He danced his hands over her red butt cheek and watched her back arch. Ass in the air, cheeks pressed against the wall, back hollowing out in a perfect, creamy-skinned slope. Marlena’s eyes drifted shut, and she teased her clit.

  “Trace…”

  “Tell me when you’re close.”

  “I’m close.” Her breaths panted.

  “Tell me when you’re closer. When you’re going to fall.”

  He watched her leaning into the wall, doing as he commanded, and stepped close to her. He raced his hands over her body. Whatever stole her confidence, he damn sure wouldn’t let it affect them. She could be whoever she wanted to be to the outside world, but when it was them—just them working through their issues—she had to be raw and real.

  Her shoulders tensed. Her legs were spread, and little sweet noises fell from her murmuring lips. “I’m going to—”

  He spanked her ass with one hand, not soothing away the sting, and pushed the fingers of his other hand into her wet pussy. Marlena screamed his name, bucking on his hands, falling into his arms, riding the wave of her orgasm with both their hands between her legs.

  Finally, he could breathe. The restlessness that’d plagued him since the moment he was off assignment subsided as he imagined how it’d feel to thrust into her until she came again. “I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

  Chapter Ten

  ‡

  The barren apartment was small. It took him only a few strides to have her in his bed. His clothes were off, a condom was in hand, and they were under the covers in a heated tangle of arms and legs. His lips were on her neck, her nails scratching down his back.

  There was something good about having her there, even if he didn’t plan to use the place for long.

  “I want to know.” She bit his earlobe. “Tell me what your demon is.”

  The words pulled everything to a standstill. Rigid in her arms, he’d forgotten his demons for a few minutes, and that was the point of this. “Not how this game works.”

  “I want to take care of you.”

  He pulled back. “Why?”

  “You deserve it.”

  “Ha. Bullshit.” He went back to her neck, but she took his face in her hands. Trace said, “Seriously, Marlena, let’s get back to what we do well.”

  Her face fell for a flash, but determination lit her face. “Tell me something.”

  Ah, man. This wasn’t where he wanted to go. It was too dark, too angry. Fuck the world. Except when he had her in his arms.

  “Trace?”

  Fine. She could know why he felt like a caged animal. “I’m a piece of shit who let down his brother. Let down my SEAL
team.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Believe it. I’m angry because I’m grounded. I can’t go overseas until Delta gets the green light to go back to ghost operations.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “There’s not much to it. I don’t exist. I don’t live in one place or do one thing. When we’re not doing jobs that no one will admit to, I’ve got my own personal mission in life. So there it is.” Fuck, man. His heart racing, he couldn’t breathe. “And the only thing that has kept me from losing my shit is you. In bed.”

  She bit her lip, looking away. When her gaze came back, the intensity made his chest swell.

  “Have me until you forget whatever you need to forget.”

  Shit, that wasn’t the only reason. “No, it’s not—”

  “Trace—”

  “No. Just…” He needed to get out of the bed and out of this house. Why the hell did he think he could do this? He didn’t deserve her, and he needed to kill. Maim. Rip the world apart until he felt normal again.

  She grabbed his elbow and hung on.

  “Marlena.” Goddamn, she needed to let go. “Mar. Enough.”

  “You need to. You have to. You’re going insane. I see it.”

  “So the hell what?” he roared.

  She needed to back off, but he looked at her, and she hadn’t flinched. Blood rushed in his veins. Energy, anxiety, and anticipation were making him stupid. He couldn’t handle this. It was too much, and he didn’t know why he thought any of this… except he wanted to hold her. Kiss her. Fuck her until exhausted and smell sugar all over himself.

  “Trace.” Her voice was quiet but not little. It was confident and coaxing. “If that’s what you need… You and me, in this bed, until you feel better.”

  “Why?” His chest was tight, his head shaking.

  “If you won’t share why, at least let me help you this way.”

  “Why?” Tight chested, he pulled away from her, needing to punch the wall. “Just, no. You’re making this too much. This is fun. We’re fun. That’s it.”