Hot Alpha SEALs: Military Romance Megaset

by Sharon Hamilton

  “No. Not yet. I suggest you hurry and finish.”

  She looked at Ross, who pointed her to the bathroom.

  Hurrying in and out, she was back at her lab table, and the tears hadn’t stopped yet. She could hardly see the work in front of her for all the tears. “Please. Can you tell me that he’s okay?”

  “Work!”

  Sniffling, her breathing was labored and too fast. “I can’t. Please. Just—”

  “He’s alive. Work faster, and you can save him.”

  She nodded. Work faster. She could do that. “And he’ll be okay?”

  The man nodded. “Finish.”

  Ross whispered, “I can get them to drop him at the hospital. We’ll be on a plane out of here before you get through the front door. Just finish. I have to save my kids.”

  Ross’s kids and her boyfriend. What evil bastards. “They’ll save him?”

  “It’s your only chance.”

  She could do it. Saving Trace was the only thing that mattered. They weren’t that far from a hospital. Marlena closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then worked like hell. So what if she made a weapon? They weren’t going to use it today. They were going to sell it, right? So Titan or the military or someone could go find it.

  An hour later, she stood up. “Done! Take him to the hospital. Please.”

  The man nodded to Ross, who nodded back. “It looks like it will work.”

  “We test, then we’ll see.”

  “What!” she shrieked. “No! If he’s hurt, he needs a doctor. You said—”

  The man walked toward the hall. “Test it. I’ll be back.”

  Tears were back in her eyes. Her stomach hurt. It could take hours to test it. And even if Trace was still alive… she hadn’t heard sounds of pain. What if they just killed him and—

  A loud explosion rocked the building. The vibrations shook her off her feet and scattered the work on the table. Eyes wide, she watched Ross hunker onto the ground then jump up, grabbing all their work and running out the door.

  “Wait! Ross! No.” He wasn’t supposed to be the guy who wanted it. He just wanted to keep his family alive. He was a victim, as she was. Except he had just stolen what she had worked on. Shit.

  And what was that blast?

  The others in the room had scattered. She was alone, scared, not knowing which way to go or why things were exploding.

  Trace limped into the room, blood dripping down his arm. His jeans were red and his face angry. “Mar. You okay?”

  She nodded, running to him. “God, what happened?”

  “Let’s go.” He put a small gun in her hand. “Point and shoot. Just don’t shoot me.”

  It felt cold and heavy. Looking at him, she couldn’t shut up. “I thought they hurt you.”

  “They did. Assholes.”

  “I thought they killed you.”

  “Takes a tougher motherfucker than that to kill me, Cinderella.”

  Oh… “I finished it. They have it.”

  Trace grumbled but didn’t slow down. “That complicates shit.”

  “What was the noise? The explosions?”

  “I assumed it was—”

  Two men crept into the corner, big guns pointed at her and Trace. She screamed, aiming the point-and-shoot gun at them. Trace grabbed her hand, pulling it down. “Stand down.” He put his arm around her, dragging her to the men with guns. “We have a problem.”

  “Hello to you too, buddy.” A familiar Australian accent came from one of the gunmen.

  “Took you long enough.” Trace groaned through clenched teeth. “Where’s everybody?”

  They were Trace’s teammates. Delta. Thank God. “Tell them you’re hurt.”

  Instead, he scurried her against the wall. “Marlena, what does the weapon look like? They left with it, what are we looking for?”

  “Oh. Um. Like a small cylinder within a box. Silver colored. Six inches by six inches. Really heavy.”

  The two other men ran off, and Trace maneuvered around the corner then slid her away from her perch against the wall. “Nice and easy.”

  Blood ran down his arm, coloring his pants a darker red. The stench from the explosion permeated the air, and sudden gunfire exploded and echoed somewhere in the warehouse. She flinched then froze.

  “No time for that,” he scooped her into his arms and kept moving.

  Finally, they were out the front door of the warehouse. Trace headed toward an SUV. He put her down and reached for the back door, moving her to the seat. Everything was a blur. Someone in the shadows of the warehouse appeared, gun raised, pointing at her. No. Pointing at Trace.

  “No!” Screaming, she pushed him, catching him off balance as he turned to close her door. They landed on the asphalt, and he cursed. Probably because they’d landed on whatever part of his body had been shot and was bleeding all over the place. Marlena rolled, feeling fire in her arm. She looked down. Blood. A hole in her arm. Blood. Lots of blood. Oh God.

  “What the fuck,” Trace yelled, rolling on top of her, gun drawn.

  He fired over and over again, screaming obscenities. Then he pulled her close and threw them into the still-opened back door.

  “You’re insane.” His hands searched over her until he found her wounded arm. “Damn it, Marlena. You fucking took a bullet for me.”

  She nodded. Thinking back, if the trajectory had been right, given how she jumped at him and where the bullet hit her… that would’ve been a head shot.

  Trace opened the center console and grabbed something. He pushed it into his ear and talked into what had to be a tiny microphone. “HVT’s hit.”

  “I’m fine.” Though she felt woozy. It was only in her arm. Oh God. Only a gunshot wound in her arm. She’d been shot. Her whole body began to shake. And what about him? “Trace.”

  He crawled into the front seat, telling someone, “Roger that.” Trace turned the ignition over. The engine revved, and he screamed out of the parking toward a fence.

  She didn’t see a gate. Looking around—but he wasn’t looking. She screamed as he ran through the fence. “What the hell?”

  Easing onto an access road, he relaxed into the driver seat. “Cannot believe you took a bullet for me.” Shaking his head, he turned and looked at her, the corners of his eyes tight and crinkled. “You fucking rock.”

  Arm throbbing in pain, it was her cheeks heating in a full-out blush that she felt at that moment. “It just kinda happened.”

  With a quick tug, he pulled his shirt over his head. “Put this on your arm. Make it tight.”

  His chest was covered in blood. He had a gunshot next to his collar. “You need a doctor worse than I do,” she said.

  He laughed as he turned onto the highway. “Seems like the only thing I need any more is you.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  ‡

  Half-asleep on his couch, Trace was numb and drifting in and out of a painkiller haze. It’d been time to change his bandage, and that hurt like a mother bear. So he doubled up the dose on the painkiller and drifted off to la-la land after Ryder dropped him off at home. But he was coming down from his Percocet-coated high when the doorbell rang.

  An instant hope that Marlena was on the other side brought him to fully awake. After the surgeon had pulled the bullet out of his shoulder, he said, “Thanks for the work” to Titan’s docs and high-tailed out of there it to find Marlena. But he found out from a nurse that her father had checked her out. The thought made him both angry as all hell and jealous he couldn’t be there to take her home. He called her cell phone but it was off. Or maybe gone, like her last cell phone.

  Before he could get up and to the door, it cracked open, and she popped her head inside. “Hey, you. Can I come in?”

  Absolutely, she could do whatever she wanted. His chest felt warm, and he could finally breathe. He realized that he hadn’t been able to breathe since he’d left her side at the hospital. Trace wrapped his arms around her, and even when she tried to pull back from his wound, he h
ugged her tight, enjoying the fierce bite of pain. “I missed you, Cinderella.”

  “You just saw me yesterday.”

  “Lots happened.” Damn, he wished she’d spent the night with him after the hospital run. “How are you feeling? I tried your cell and your home phone.”

  “I didn’t go home.” She sighed, slumping. “I ended up at Brian’s.”

  His fists bunched. “Brian.”

  “My father.”

  Through the painkiller haze, that made more sense, but it was still shitty news.

  “Yeah. Sucks. As it turns out, when you’re still on the college health-care plan, and you get shot, they place a call to an emergency contact. The fucker doesn’t even pay my tuition. I have no idea how that works. But he’s had a turn of luck lately, living large. Says my going missing is his good luck charm. Asshole.”

  “Prick.”

  She shrugged. “I told him he didn’t need to pick me up if he didn’t give a hoot about me. I have no idea why he’d volunteer to pull the father card. I even told him that, and he found the whole thing hysterical.”

  “Guess that conversation didn’t go well.”

  “The usual. I’m so smart, I’m stupid. Waste of space. No one would ever love me. Same stuff, different day.”

  Trace’s heart beat faster. Listening to someone belittle her. He said she was unlovable? That was insane. If anyone was deserving of love… it’d be her. Fuck.

  “Something about him was different. It’s right in front of me but I can’t…” Confusion erased from her face and her eyes narrowed. “Trace? You okay?”

  Deserving of love…? “I need to sit down.”

  “You look like you’re going to be sick.” She grabbed onto his arm as he staggered toward the couch. “Seriously, what’s with the look?”

  He put his head between his knees. “Fuck.”

  “Do you need a doctor? I mean, I can drive, and you look—”

  Going upright so fast his head spun, Trace grabbed her in his arms and pressed his lips to hers. After she kissed him back to reality, he opened his eyes to see a very confused, hot-and-bothered Marlena. “I’m a total lost cause.”

  She gave him a half smile. “So you say.”

  “Mar.”

  The half smile on her face made him want to kiss her again. “Trace.”

  “This is ridiculous.”

  She laughed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  The TV was too loud. The AC blew too hard. Everything irritated him to the point of insanity at that moment. He jumped off the couch and paced the length of the living room. “Neither do I.”

  “What?” Her cute face was scrunched.

  “I’m in love with you.” There. He said it. What the fuck was he supposed to do next? Because a week ago he was running from a normal life like his dick was on fire.

  Marlena’s mouth hung open. “What.”

  It wasn’t a question. The word just kind of hung there between them.

  “Shit.” He rubbed his face. “I’d say sorry, but I’m not.”

  “I’m not sorry either.”

  He stared at her sideways. “You’re not?”

  She shook her head.

  “What does that mean?”

  “I fell in love with you too. Did a while back.”

  He stalked back over to the couch and sat down next to her. “That was probably the most unromantic thing you’ve ever heard.”

  Nodding, she tried to hide her grin. “Maybe.”

  Locking his good arm under her non-bandaged one, he scooted her off the couch and toward the door.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Starting the hell over. What do you think I’m doing?” He turned her around, taking two big steps back. “Hey, you’re here.”

  “You’ve lost your mind.”

  “Maybe, but still. Come in. I need to tell you something.”

  Marlena sat on the couch, shaking her head. “Tell me.”

  “I fell in love with you. I can’t get you out of my head. You’re the only thing that keeps me sane, that balances me out.”

  She held her hand out. “Sit down.”

  A second later, his arms were around her, unable to keep his mouth to himself either.

  “I’ve had a lot of ups and downs,” she said. “This morning, when I woke up, Brian was running his mouth. And you know what? I told him to go to hell. For years, I’ve listened to his crap. Internalized it, felt like less than I should be. But not today, and it had everything to do with how I know who I am. How, over the past weeks, I’ve realized that I’m good with me.”

  “And I love you.”

  “Good thing I love you too. Freakin’ lost cause.”

  He put his hands up. “Not saying I don’t have an internal fight.”

  “I know. I want you to wage it. I hope you do. It’s just… we work well together. So, I think I’ll keep my meathead boyfriend around, if you’re good with it.”

  “Shit, honey. You’re spending the night. No questions asked.”

  “Good. I knew there was a benefit to stopping by,” she said.

  “Sounds like a challenge issued.”

  He had her up and in his arms before she could say, “Watch the gunshot wound.”

  *

  Trace crawled over her on his bed, and he smelled perfect. She lay on a pile of pillows, and his muscles loomed around her, caging her. His hands roamed her body, stopping at the snap of her jeans.

  “The things I want to do to you.” Slowly, he undid it and made the zipper crawl down.

  It took forever for the zipper to slide. Intentional torture. “I’m game. I swear.”

  Trace’s teeth raked her stomach, and his hands pinned her in place. He bit her hip bone and tugged off her panties. “So confident.”

  “Told you.”

  “You’ve always been,” he said. His body found its place between her legs, broad shoulders holding her open.

  “Maybe. Just for you.”

  The warmth of his lips hovered over her clit. Strong fingers teased her folds. “This is just for me, Mar.”

  “Yes.” The words came out breathless. Hell, she needed more than just a tease. “You own me.”

  He wasn’t careful when he spread her for his kiss. The slash of his tongue sent shivers crawling to the corners of her body. The dance of his fingers across her aroused skin stole her mind. He kissed and sucked with such intensity that the room swirled away. Thoughts fell away. Rough hands and tongue pushed her toward a climax, then his fingers pushed inside her, pumping and stroking.

  Marlena struggled to move her legs, to walk her heels up the bed or wrap her legs around his broad chest. But somehow, he had her pinned. For every struggle, he held her down, pushing her to orgasm under his tongue. She shifted, and he moved with her. Marlena’s fingers grabbed at the sheets, clenching them in her hand. Heat rushed through her body, her core tightening and her throat moaning. Everything about it was insane and delicious.

  “Come for me, Mar.” His fingers and his mouth fucked her furiously.

  She bucked, arching her back and clawing at the bed. Trace held her body still. Her orgasm spiraled her high to the heavens where fireworks and the stars collided. Mar gasped for breath as his weight rolled away. She heard the foil of a condom wrapper, but her body was too lax to even open her eyes—until he was back on top of her. Then her eyes opened and met his.

  “I love you,” he growled, pushing his cock against her entrance. “And you’re the only thing that can save me.”

  “Good.” Because she wanted to be his savior. His everything.

  Thrusting deep into her, his eyes sank closed, and she bit his lip when he kissed her. That was their thing. Nothing sweet, just pure, driven emotion, hard and harsh. Her legs crawled around him, her arms gripping him. She embraced the flare of pain from her bandaged arm. He gritted his teeth, and sweat dampened his brow. They molded themselves to each other, their connection profound.

  Marlena arched b
ack, tearing her nails down his back, moaning and crying out as she came. Her muscles rippled around his shaft, and her mind went numb. Trace’s body rocked over her, the piston motion forcing her to a point of destruction that only he could handle.

  He came, groaning as he thrust. “Goddamn, Marlena.”

  Then he collapsed on her. His rasping breath burned in her ear, his weight pressing her into the blankets.

  With his body covering her, Marlena’s mind cleared. Cleared the crap that’d blurred her past, all the belittling lies she’d been told most her life. But in that clarity was a realization, crystal clear in its obviousness. Her stomach plummeted, while anger bubbled in her veins. She swallowed. She’d been blind, until she realized at that moment that she could love and be loved. How about that for a what-the-hell moment?

  “I needed that.” The whisper of his voice promised that she could tell him anything, that he would understand, because no matter how different their circumstances were, they both had a dark weight haunting them. Hers had been her damn father.

  She nodded. “But you know what I need even more?”

  His head lifted on her chest. “More?”

  Brian had screwed her. He’d sold her and her secrets. That was the only way he had the money. The man couldn’t stay away from an opportunity to hurt her, especially if he could make big bucks in the process. Screw him. Just screw him all the way to hell. “I need payback.”

  Faster than she expected, Trace rolled over, pulling her with him. “Say again.”

  “Retribution.”

  His eyes narrowed. “What?”

  “Brian—”

  “Your dad?”

  She nodded, the anger transforming into cold calmness. “Brian took me home from the hospital in a new car. We didn’t go home to where I grew up. We went somewhere new. Nicer. He was so busy insulting me, pulling me down to the ground, that it didn’t click in my painkiller haze. I don’t know how he did it. I don’t know where he met—”

  “Romatar?”

  She nodded again. “He did this to me.”

  Trace’s jaw flexed. Lines strained in his neck. “Your father?”

  “Brian. The sperm contributor that I was stuck with after my mother died.”