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Breakaway: A New Adult Anthology

Page 23

by Jay McLean


  Vic also started dancing with her friend, though he kept a respectful distance from her ass. Good man, that Vic.

  Barbie smelled salty and sandy, like she’d just spent the day at the beach. And the way she moved made me certain that she was a dancer. I was just hoping she wasn’t the type who made her living on the pole. “What’s your name, sugar?”

  “I’m Sara. And this is Maya.”

  “Nice to meet you, Sara. I’m Kyle. This is my buddy Vic. Can we buy you ladies drinks?”

  Her head bobbed with the music, not committing to a yes, but she followed me off the floor. I took her hand and we found a table outside. I signaled to the cocktail waitress to take our order—she’d be over in a second. We were regulars and she knew we were huge tippers.

  I glanced at Maya, who clearly wanted to be anywhere but here. She wasn’t even making eye contact with Vic or me.

  The waitress came over; Vic and I ordered two beers, Sara wanted a Malibu and Coke, and Maya just asked for a glass of water. Yup. Vic definitely wasn’t getting any tonight.

  I turned my attention to Sara. Her blonde hair was cut in one of those crisp bobs, revealing her neck. Her tits looked real, a rarity in Southern California. “What do you do?”

  “I go to state, getting my teaching degree. Right now, I work in a preschool. How about you?”

  Hot for teacher. Sounded good to me. “I was a linebacker for the Oakland Raiders. On a break now. Not sure what’s next.” Rule #1 about being a SEAL. Never tell anyone your job. Even if it was guaranteed to get you pussy.

  “That’s cool. As long as you’re happy.” Most girls started asking a ton of questions once you mentioned pro football, but not Sara. Maybe she didn’t care about my money and actually wanted to get to know me. That would be nice for a change.

  The waitress brought us our drinks. The music boomed and I could barely hear a word of what Sara was saying. Vic was talking to Maya but both of them weren’t into it. I’d had enough. Time to bounce.

  I brushed Sara’s hair off her face. “It’s too loud in here. Say what, I live down the street. You want to go back to my place?”

  Her face brightened. “I’d love that.”

  Sara hugged her friend and whispered something in her ear. Maya squinted her face at Sara.

  I signaled to Vic to help a brother out.

  Vic turned to Maya, “I’ll give you a ride home.”

  Maya gave a reluctant nod.

  We said our goodbyes, and I put my arm around Sara and led her out of the bar. The neon lights of the other bars glowed in the distance as we walked toward the beach. It always boggled my mind that a girl would honestly go home with a man whom she’d just met in a club, especially knowing what had happened to Annie. But I wasn’t complaining. And let’s face it—Sara was safer with me than she would be with any other man. Though there was absolutely no way she could be certain that I wasn’t a serial killer or a rapist.

  I didn’t know a thing about this chick but it didn’t matter. I was only in town for the next month before I deployed again. But she didn’t have to know that. All she needed to know was that I thought she was the sexiest girl in the club and I planned to ravage every inch of her body tonight.

  Springtime Iraq – Nine Months Later

  When I was in college, spring break had always been my favorite time of the year. Winter leave always sucked because I was cramming for finals and practicing football trying to get into a bowl game, summer vacation I’d spend preparing for the upcoming season. But spring break was the one time each year that I could escape, party in the sun and hook up without a care in the world.

  Not anymore. I barely could tell what time of year it was. In Iraq, the long, hot days blended together. Now, I was now checking out terrorists instead of sexy coeds.

  But today I’d get a reprieve from my fellow smelly men. Our SEAL team was the first stop on the USO tour.

  Pat, Vic, and I were on our way to greet the plane. No idea who was on the tour—usually it was a mix of NFL players, cheerleaders and some movie stars. I’d done a USO tour myself when I played ball. Hanging out with the SEALs during Christmastime was what convinced me to leave my career behind and join the Teams. My father was a retired Marine and I’d always wanted to serve my country. It was the best decision I’d ever made.

  I handed Vic the big “Welcome to Kuwait” sign and the three of us walked on the runaway to welcome the USO company. Yup, I was right—a few huge guys walked down the jetway. I immediately recognized one of them, a top quarterback. I was about to shake his hand, when Pat whispered in my ear, “Hey, isn’t that ‘omelet girl?’ ”

  I looked up. Fuck my life. Sara, the girl I’d met in PB that night last summer with Vic was walking down the jetway in a skin tight sweat suit emblazoned with a flame on the back of the jacket. Pat had nicknamed her ‘omelet girl’ because he’d stopped by my place the morning after I’d met her and she’d cooked us omelets. She never told me she was a professional cheerleader. A fucking San Diego Wildfire Girl—part of the hottest dance team in the NFL. Then again, I’d never told her I was a Navy SEAL. I guess we were even.

  “Welcome to Iraq, beautiful.”

  Her pale skin turned blush and I doubted it was from the hundred-degree heat. “Kyle, what are you doing here? You’re on the USO tour too? You weren’t on the plane—I looked you up but all I could find out was you’d quit football. Which team are you with?”

  I laughed and pulled her to the side. “SEAL Team Seven sweetheart—I don’t play ball anymore. You just flew thirty-six hours to entertain me. I’m ready. Come here, baby. Give me a kiss.” I hugged her and kissed her cheek. Her tight little body pressed up against me.

  We hadn’t ended on bad terms—she’d told me that she had to go away for a family vacation and by the time she’d returned, I’d been long gone.

  An older lady with bleached blonde hair nudged Sara. Probably the chaperone. These cheerleaders usually traveled with their directors, like a modern day chastity belt. Fuck that, to get some alone time with her I’d throw a flash bang grenade if I had to. Despite her all-American good girl cheerleader image, Sara was a freak—our night together was one for the books. And I needed a repeat performance.

  Her body flinched at the sound of a mortar going off in the distance. The pink sky hung above us, thick with smoke. “I can’t believe you’re here. I couldn’t figure out why you’d vanished. I thought we’d connected.” She paused and her eyes focused on my gun. “A Navy SEAL? You gave up the NFL?”

  “Absolutely. I love football, but now my life has meaning. Out here, football is important to the men and women who serve. That’s how we tell time. Each game means the passing of another week. Another week closer to going home.” Vic and Pat stepped over to me. “You remember Vic and Pat, don’t you?”

  Her girlfriends now gathered to her side. There were seven other cheerleaders: a redhead, two brunettes, another blonde, a Latina girl, an Asian girl and a sister. It was like an ice-cream shop of hot women—one flavor for any taste.

  “Yeah, Pat was your trainer, right?”

  Pat smirked and gave her a hug. His eyes made a respectful dance around her friends, but he kept his distance. Ever since he’d married Annie, Pat kept himself in check. He didn’t want any temptation. All he cared about these days was getting home to her in one piece, especially now that she was pregnant.

  The rest of the plane had embarked now. I grabbed Sara’s luggage and escorted her and her fellow cheerleaders to the barracks. They were to stay in the Distinguished Visitor quarters—small, single rooms each with their own bed and dresser. Much better than the shithole barracks that I bunked in. With any luck, I’d be crashing with her tonight.

  I placed her suitcase in the room, dust flying everywhere. “So you’re a cheerleader? I knew you were a dancer.”

  She sat on the edge of the bed. The chin length bob she’d rocked in that nightclub had magically grown into waist length curls. My mom was a hairdresser; I knew a weav
e when I saw one. “I’m still a preschool teacher. Why didn’t you tell me you were a SEAL? It’s awesome.”

  Her legs were crossed and I could see the outline of her panties through her sweats. I loved my job but I missed being around women. Their voices, their hair, their soft bodies were intoxicating.

  “Don’t take it personally. I don’t tell anyone what I do. It’s safer that way. If a guy goes around boasting he’s a SEAL, he’s a liar.”

  She was fighting a yawn but it overtook her. I knew she must’ve been tired, after her long travel day. I had a week to be around her, take care of her every need, and maybe she’d take care of mine. Plus I couldn’t wait to see her dance in those tight white boy shorts her cheer team wore.

  “I’m going to let you get some rest, but I’ll be back later. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was deploying. I figured if it was meant to be, I’d see you again. You’re like an angel sent to me now. I’ll take care of you while you’re here and make sure you’re safe.” I leaned into her and gave her a kiss. Her soft lips scraped against my beard and it took every bit of control I had to pull away from her.

  “I’m glad you’re here, Kyle. But, just so you know, I’m seeing someone.”

  Of course she was. “Is he a SEAL?” I’d never sleep with another Team guy’s woman, under any circumstances. Even if I hadn’t met him.

  “No. He plays Lacrosse at state.”

  I winked at her. “Then he’s not my problem now, is he? What happens in Iraq, stays in Iraq.”

  She winced. “No, Kyle. It’s great to see you again, but I’m taken.” The sweat from the heat made beads on her forehead. Her plump pink lips parted, begging me to kiss them.

  “We’ll see about that, Sara. Anyway, get a good night’s rest. I’m your personal security guard for the week. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I walked out of the room and went back to our barracks. I didn’t believe in fate—Pat and Annie were always talking about how they were destined to meet and be together. Could that be true? What were the chances of Sara and me meeting in San Diego, both omitting parts of our lives, and reuniting across the world? The cheerleader and the ex-football player—had a nice ring to it.

  I woke the next day at zero six hundred and for a second I thought that seeing Sara had been a dream. Once I came to, I hurriedly got dressed. Pat and Vic were already waiting for me.

  Pat slapped me on the back. “So you want me to distract, maybe kick up a sand storm so you can get some alone time together?”

  “Sounds like a plan. How’s Annie?”

  “Good. No longer having morning sickness. Just got off Skype. We find out the baby’s sex on Friday. But I’m sure it’s a boy.”

  Vic cackled. “In your dreams, Walsh. It’s a girl and you know it.”

  Had it hand it to Vic—he was right. All Team guys ended up with girls. Something about our balls being frozen in the cold water made our sperm only shoot out Xs. One of our buddies had six daughters, six! But I’d show these fools how it was done. When I decided to have children, I’d take a month leave and head to Hawaii. Warm that shit up.

  I glanced at the schedule: transfer to next base, meet and greet with NFL players, show from cheerleaders, autographs. They’d come back here after lunch and then repeat the schedule here.

  I ditched Pat and Vic and went to Sara’s room. I needed to see her before she left on the convoy. With any luck, she’d still be asleep.

  I knocked on the door, careful to keep my rap silent and not wake her fellow cheerleaders or the virgin patrol.

  She opened the door, her hair wild, her eyes sleepy. She was wearing a tank top with no bra and white panties. Her nipples were erect and I wanted to suck them until she screamed my name.

  “Kyle, what are you doing here? Is everything okay?” she whispered.

  I shut the steel door. “Sure, babe. I just wanted to see you, alone.” The walls were barren, white, thin.

  She sat on her bed. “What’s up? I told you I was seeing someone—”

  “I know. Don’t worry. I get that. I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I’m a SEAL and that I’d be gone when you came back from your vacation. I thought we had something, for real, but since I was leaving I didn’t see the point.”

  She nodded. “It’s cool. I get it. I do. I figured you’d thought I was a slut for going home with you the night we met. I don’t normally do that, I swear.”

  All girls want you to believe you are the only man they’d hop into bed with. I didn’t doubt her, but I wasn’t one of those men who actually cared if she was easy since I was a player. “I believe you. But you’re here now.” I touched her shoulder, and watched her body shiver. I wasn’t going to push myself on her, she had a boyfriend and if she wasn’t into me, I’d back off. But I hadn’t gotten laid since we left for this deployment, and I was damned if I wasn’t going to try.

  Her body responded to me, her chest heaved, her mouth moistened. My hands cupped her face and I kissed her, my beard scratching her soft skin. If I was going to take this any further, I had to get her out of this room, away from this creaky bed, and the adjacent ears of her chaperon. She had a week here, so I could take my time.

  “Kyle, I’ve thought about our night so many times. I stalked you on Facebook and wiki. But I can’t. I don’t want to get kicked off the team. And my boyfriend—”

  I placed my finger over her lips. “It’s okay, baby. If you want to spend some time alone with me while you’re here, I can arrange that. I just need you to be sure. I want you. But the ball’s in your court.”

  She didn’t hesitate. “I’m game.” So much for her deep commitment to her boyfriend. She rubbed her fingers over my chest and traced down to cock. My length grew inside my cammies and I wanted to take her then and there, but I needed to wait.

  “You’ve got a big day. I’ll work something out for later tonight. I’m going to sneak out.” I kissed her and cupped her ass in my hand. I walked back to my barracks. I’d plan a date with her later. Shit, Pat owed me one. He’d find a way to hook a brother up.

  Two hours later, Pat, Vic, and I helped the entire tour leave to go to the next base. There were three seven-ton vehicles in the convoy to transport the USO performers.

  The girls were lined up two by two like they were going on an ark with the chaperone in back. Sara pushed to the front of the line and gave me a playful look. I hadn’t been imagining it—we had a spark.

  Vic loaded the girls into the body of vehicle where a Marine would sit with them and another Marine would take position as the gunner on the top.

  Everyone safely inside, a third Marine turned on the ignition and the vehicle rambled around the dirt roads. Sand flew through the sky, sprinkling on the window and we waved them goodbye.

  Pat, Vic, and I headed back to our barracks. We hit the gym, and later checked in with our command.

  An hour later, a Marine wire dog ran into our barracks.

  “What can I do for you, devil dawg?” I asked.

  “It’s the convoy for the USO. There was a roadside bomb and it’s been hit! Not sure if there are any causalities but we think some of the girls may have been taken hostage.”

  What the fuck? Pat, Vic, and I exchanged looks. No words, we loaded our weapons and headed back to our command.

  I promised Sara I would keep her safe. Whoever took her, took the wrong girl. Because I would tear this country apart to find her. This is exactly why I left the NFL. I’d never win MVP, never win the Super bowl, but some heroes don’t play games.

  ALANA ALBERTSON

  Alana Albertson is a multi-award winning author and the former President of Romance Writers of America’s Young Adult and Chick Lit chapters. A recovering professional ballroom dancer, Alana currently writes contemporary romance, new adult and young adult fiction. She lives in San Diego, California, with her Marine husband, two young sons, and four dogs. When she’s not spending her time playing with her sons, dancing, or saving dogs from high kill shelters through Pugs N Roses, t
he rescue she founded, she can be found watching episodes Homeland, Witches of East End, or Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders: Making the Team.

  Website: www.alanaalbertson.com

  Author social media links:

  https://www.facebook.com/authoralanaalbertson

  Alana’s new adult romantic thriller Invincible (The Trident Code) debuted at #1 Amazon Mover & Shaker list.

  Buy it now: http://amzn.to/1nwOTcz

  CARLY CARSON

  Bling Ring in Mexico

  Copyright 2014 by Carly Carson. All rights reserved.

  Chapter ONE

  “I don't want to spend the night in a Mexican jail cell," I whispered to my best friend Claire. I gave some sort of a giggle crossed with a hiccup. "I don't speak Spanish, you know."

  "Orange isn't my best color either." Giggling, Claire pointed to her pixie-cut auburn hair.

  "So what are we doing here?" My buzz was morphing into a buzzkill as we cowered in the poor concealment of a few spiky palms in a quiet residential neighborhood near the beach in Quintana Roo. A breeze ruffled the low-growth palms, and I could smell the sea on the wind.

  "Look," Claire said with the exaggerated patience of a drunk, "we're jus' checking out her digs. See some fab clothes, take some pics. What could be more fun?"

  "A mammogram could be more fun," I snapped. Not that I'd experienced either event, a mammo nor an uninvited visit to someone's home, but I knew when something sounded sketchy.

  Claire laughed. "Don't be such a poop. Tiffany explained all that. No breakin' and—and whatever." She waved a hand. "If we can't find an open door, we don't do it."

  There was a flaw in her logic, but my head was spinning, and I couldn't quite verbalize it.

 

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