Navy SEAL Series Boxed Set

by Odette Stone

His head reared back in mock horror. “You think Alien is a girl?”

  “There’s a fifty percent chance Alien is a girl.”

  “No way.” He was confident.

  “Hmm,” I had an idea. “What's your favorite childhood story?”

  Instantly his expression took on a wary look. “Why?”

  It dawned on me that maybe Jackson had never been read to as a child. “I just thought I would paint a mural on the wall.”

  His smile slowly spread across his face. “Alien gets his own mural?”

  “We could do Winnie the Pooh, Peter Rabbit, The Jungle Book…” my voice trailed off as I tried to manage this conversation diplomatically. “Why don’t I find some children’s books and then we can decide.”

  He had a faraway gaze as he struggled to recall his memory. “My mom used to read me this book…there was this little bear and the bear family wore old-fashioned clothes. There was a grandma and grandpa bear.”

  Pain reflected in his green eyes before he turned away.

  I worked to keep my emotions inside of me. “I know that series well. Those are beautiful books.”

  His voice sounded conflicted. “I haven’t thought about that story in years.”

  “You remember your mom?”

  “That’s my vote for a mural,” he said as he moved away towards the paint brushes.

  My only concern was the fact that Jackson came to bed after I was asleep and left the house hours before I got up. Without the dent in his pillow, I wouldn’t know that he slept in the same bed. Everything was so tentative and fragile between us. I didn’t know what to do. Did he only want Harper now that he had seen her? Was I too inexperienced for him? The whole thing baffled me, but I had no framework in which to deal with it. I started going to bed naked in hopes that he would take the hint, but nothing changed.

  I woke up, curled up against Jackson’s naked chest, my hand on his hard abs. I lifted my head. He was lying beside me, on top of the covers, with only a towel wrapped around his waist. He was dead to the world.

  My hand flattened to spread over the smooth, hard muscles of his stomach. He had the most beautiful skin. My hand moved in one slow circle. I could feel his even breath rise and fall beneath my hand.

  I peeked up at him. He was very much asleep. Whenever we had sex it was crazy, intense and I was usually so blown away, I never really had the chance to explore him. Feeling like I was taking advantage of him, I did another slow circle over his skin, this time, moving my hand a bit farther down.

  The first night I had arrived, Jackson had come to our bed and woken me up in the most intimate of ways. My breath was slightly uneven as I contemplated returning the favor. The problem was, I had never given a blowjob before. What if I did it wrong? What if he didn’t get turned on? I lifted my head and moved the towel over a smidgen. His member was there for the taking, right in front of me. I moved my head closer, pausing to make sure he was still asleep. Something dangerous was throbbing in the pit of my stomach. I wanted to try this.

  I lifted his length gently up in one hand, and tentatively put my tongue on it. It felt smooth. I closed my mouth around the tip, uncertain about how to proceed. I swirled my tongue around it and liked how silky it felt. I was careful as I explored with my mouth. My eyes widened as I felt it begin to grow more firm. I sucked more of him into my mouth, using my tongue and lips to play with it delicately. The bigger and stiffer it became, the more my own body responded. My stomach fluttered as a familiar yearning inflamed my body. I incorporated swallowing into my new found act. Loving that he was now fully erect and straining against my mouth.

  Jackson’s hips jerked up, driving him further into my mouth as two big hands wrapped around my head, holding me down. I froze, my eyes wide as his huge girth practically choked me.

  “Emily?” Jackson’s voice sounded strained, as his hands released my head.

  I lifted my mouth off him.

  My voice was small. “Yeah?”

  He sat up, and then I was being hauled over on top of him, so I straddled him.

  “What are you doing?” he was out of breath.

  “Nothing.” I lied.

  “You looking for something?”

  “No.”

  His fingers slid between my legs.

  “Did you like doing that?”

  “Maybe.” I moaned as his fingers teased me.

  “Seems like you more than liked it. Did that turn you on?”

  “Can’t you tell?”

  His teeth nipped at my bottom lip. “I want to hear you say it.”

  I arched as one big hand slid up over my breast, strong fingers pinching my nipple. “It turned me on.”

  “Were you looking for this?” his big hands on my hips lifted me up and guided me. I felt his hugeness butt against my core.

  My head fell back, and I moaned as my yielding body slid down over his huge girth.

  “Oh, I think someone likes it when I pull them onto my…”

  “Jackson!” I interrupted, slightly scandalized.

  He laughed, breathless. “Tell me you like it.”

  My hips jerked, demanding that he start to move. He held me in place. “Say it.”

  My breath was erratic. “I like it.”

  “Oh, I think you more than like it,” his voice was low. “But there are consequences when my little wife wakes me up in the middle of the night.”

  My entire body shuddered in response as he pulled me harder down on him.

  “What do you mean?” my eyes squeezed shut as his mouth found my hard nipple. Shocks of pleasure rippled down my spine.

  “It means we do this my way.”

  I gasped as he flipped me over, so I was suddenly on my hands and knees. I felt him move behind me and then his knee pushed my legs apart.

  Big hands held my hips, and I whimpered with longing as he slowly invaded me from behind. My eyes widened in shock as intense sensations flooded my body. It felt so good I almost couldn’t think.

  My entire world became incandescent as he began to thrust into me slowly. My hands clenched the duvet as he invaded me with slow ravishing strokes.

  “Why is this your way?” I gasped, thinking I wouldn’t mind this being my way too.

  Big hands gathered my hair and then he was gently tugging my head back with my hair. My back arched.

  “Because sometimes, I just want to be in charge,” he said, tugging my head back further. I groaned, shamelessly loving his erotic restraint.

  I felt fingertips slide sensually down my spine, while he slowly pushed in and out of me.

  “And sometimes I just want to fuck.”

  My body trembled. I wanted that too. Oh did I want that. “Me too.”

  He laughed. “Really.”

  “Yeah.” My eyes squeezed shut, and it felt like my insides were molten. It felt so different in this position. Searing heat and throbbing greed consumed me.

  “Say it.”

  At this point, I would say just about anything. “I just want to fuck.”

  He laughed again. “I think you mean, that you want to get fucked.”

  “That too.”

  “You sure?”

  Wasn’t that what we were doing? “Yeah.”

  That wasn’t what we had been doing.

  Suddenly he was driving into me with blindingly raw thrusts. It was like he turned the volume up to max. I couldn’t think, I could only feel. My world went hazy, as he held my hips in place, moving at an addictive pace. Crazy wild sounds were coming out of me. I was in some delicious wicked trance. He was relentless. My entire body worked to brace against his glorious assault. He was rock hard, and I was soft, he was savage, and I was pliant, he invaded, and I surrendered. My climax hit me with such ferocity that I almost blacked out. I writhed as a thin scream escaped out of me. His hands dropped to my hips, holding me in place, so he could continue to drive into me. My face was buried in the blankets, my body convulsing around him. It felt exquisite.

  “Oh fuck, I’m fuc
king coming,” he ground out, as he crushed up into me, his hips jerking hard. We poised there for a long, carnal moment, as he twitched inside of me.

  Shaking legs gave up, and I collapsed forward in a heap, unable to catch my breath. He landed beside me, on his back.

  “How’s Alien?” he asked, breathing as hard as I was.

  “Absolutely perfect,” I gasped, my body shaking with aftershocks.

  “So?” I could hear the question in his voice.

  I tried to focus my vision. “I think we should do it your way all the time.”

  He laughed. “That’s called the SEAL way.”

  “I’m completely on board.”

  Chapter 21

  I woke up and found Jackson in the kitchen making an omelet.

  “What are you doing today?” he asked, as he dropped a plate in front of me filled with twice as much food as I could eat.

  “Not sure. What are you doing?”

  “Well, I have a baseball game this afternoon. I thought I could prep Alien’s bedroom for painting, and later, if you want, you could come and watch,” his voice was super casual. Indifferent almost.

  My head jerked up in surprise. “You play baseball?”

  “Just for fun.”

  The man never ceased to surprise me. “I want to watch.”

  A smile twitched at his lips. “Okay.”

  True to his word, Jackson spent the rest of the morning prepping the walls to paint. He was meticulous about taping, plastering and sanding the walls to perfection. I studied Little Bear photos off the internet and did some preliminary sketches for the mural.

  Then Jackson changed into a navy blue and white trimmed baseball shirt that said, “SEAL Sluggers” across the front. He wore cleats and white pants that made his ass and legs look absolutely drool-worthy.

  We drove to the field. The closer we got, the more nervous I felt. Jackson parked and carried a cooler and a lawn chair. More people than I expected crowded the sidelines.

  He set up the chair for me behind the high fence alongside the other lawn chairs. A group of women, off to the side, stood talking and laughing.

  “Come on,” he said. “Let me introduce you to a few people.”

  The first thing I noticed was that I was way overdressed. I wore white and navy checkered capris pants and a sleeveless white embroidered blouse along with wedge navy cork sandals. I had matched it with an oversized navy bag. Everyone else was wearing cut off jean shorts, cotton tank tops, and flip-flops.

  Jackson grabbed my hand and tugged me over to the group of women that all fell silent as we approached. My face burned hot as everyone looked me up and down.

  “Hey Jackson,” one of the women smiled.

  He responded with one of his smiles. “How are you all today?”

  I watched as every single one of them stared up at him with various stages of awe. Yes, I was glad to see it wasn’t just me who reacted to his smile that way.

  “Good,” they chorused back in harmony.

  “I’d like to introduce you to my wife, Emily,” he said, squeezing my hand.

  I swallowed hard, my smile feeling frozen on my face. “Hi.”

  “Pleased to meet you.”

  “Hi.”

  “Hello.”

  They all responded in kind. Their polite smiles didn’t quite meet their eyes.

  “MacDog, get out here and start warming up,” some guy called from the field.

  He looked down at me with a teasing smile. “Are you going to cheer for my team?”

  I nodded solemnly.

  He grabbed me by the waist and tugged me hard against his body. He dropped a light kiss on my lips. “Cheer hard.”

  “Okay.”

  I watched as he grabbed his glove and then jogged onto the field. He moved with grace. I turned back to the group of women who all stared at me like I had just sprouted a second head.

  “What?”

  The tall brunette spoke. “That was the most PDA I have ever seen from Jackson. Ever.”

  I blushed. “Oh.”

  Glances were exchanged.

  She tilted her head. “So, Emily. Where did you meet Jackson?”

  “New York.”

  “Is that where you are from?”

  “Yes. Are you from around here?”

  She ignored my question. “That must have been some whirlwind romance you had in New York.”

  It had been more like a lifetime of drama and angst in three months. “It seemed longer than three months.”

  I knew that was an extremely vague answer, but I figured vague was better.

  “So did you have a big wedding?”

  “Just a civil ceremony.”

  She leaned in. “No one can quite believe he got married. Jackson has been against marriage for as long as I’ve known him.”

  I looked over my shoulder. Jackson threw the ball to a catcher. He adjusted his baseball hat and looked over at me. “I guess people change.”

  Her laugh sounded disbelieving. “I guess so.”

  More looks that I had trouble interpreting were exchanged. The conversation moved away from me and onto other things. It was painstaking to stand there, listening, wracking my brain to try and contribute to the conversation. I felt too shy to say anything.

  “Let’s play ball,” the umpire roared.

  With relief, I turned and walked back to my lawn chair.

  I didn’t know anything about baseball, but I was enthralled watching Jackson. He played the game with intensity and concentration. He was the pitcher. His arm was strong, and his pitch was fast and accurate. But my favorite moments were when he was at bat. He would step up to plate, shuffle his feet into the dirt and do one or two practice swings. With a sharp hollow crack of the bat, he sent the ball flying far into the sky that left the outfielders scrambling. Every time he went to bat, he cleared the bases. I might be biased, but I thought he was the best player out there.

  When the Sluggers were up 8-2 against the Army Armadillos, another pitcher was subbed in. Jackson came around the fence and squatted in front of me, a big hand on my knee, while he drank a bottle of water.

  “Having fun?”

  “You’re really good at baseball.” I leaned forward and whispered to him. “I think you’re the best player.”

  “It’s a fun game.”

  “Why did they take you out?”

  He looked over his shoulder at the substitute pitcher who was warming up. “We want everyone to have a chance to play.”

  “After you make sure you are up 6 points.”

  “Oh,” he grinned. “You’re a baseball guru now.”

  I leaned forward so I could whisper in his ear, loving the clean scent of his sweat. “I hope Alien gets your athletic ability.”

  He pulled back his head, his eyes wide. “Well, I hope Alien gets your eyes.”

  “I hope Alien gets your courage.”

  Another huge smile. “And I hope Alien gets your heart.”

  “MacDog are you going to sit there and flirt or are you going to play ball?” someone yelled from the bench.

  He openly laughed, and he gave me a fast hard kiss before he walked back to the bench. I could feel the idiotic grin on my face. I glanced to the right, and all the women in the lawn chairs were watching with expressions that ranged from shock to incredulous.

  The Sluggers won 8-6. The team stood around drinking a few beers while everyone packed up. As fun as the afternoon was, I couldn't wait to get home and just breathe. My social anxiety was reaching an all-time high.

  Jackson walked over to me. “There's an impromptu BBQ in an hour for a few families on our team.”

  My eyes went wide.

  “Hey Emily,” a voice called from the side. I glanced over to see Guinness and Forbes walk by. I gave them a smile and a wave. I looked back up at Jackson who watched me carefully.

  I gave him my widest smile. “That sounds fun.”

  “You’re such a little liar,” he grinned. “We don’t have to do
this. Let’s go home.”

  I shook my head. I wanted nothing more than to be an excellent partner to Jackson. I knew that he was a lot more social than me. “I think it’ll be good.”

  “Yeah?” he assessed me. “You say the word, we leave.”

  “What should we bring?”

  He picked up the cooler and grabbed my hand. “Let’s ask Lauren.”

  Lauren was a short blonde with a pixie cut who looked harassed as she herded three kids.

  Jackson and I approached her.

  “I hear you got suckered into hosting another BBQ.”

  “I figured it might happen. This time I’m prepared.”

  “What can we bring?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Beer? Booze? Hamburger buns?” Jackson pushed.

  She nodded and smiled. “Beer is always welcome. And everyone loves potato chips.”

  “We’re on it.”

  Her eyes looked over at me, less warm, less friendly. “Great. We’ll see you both there.”

  Chapter 22

  The get together was down the street from our house. I changed into boyfriend jeans and a pair of flats. We left Chloe at home and walked there. Jackson carried the beer, and I brought the chips. Nerves impeded my ability to breathe.

  I could hear the crowd before we walked around the corner of the house to the backyard. At least 45 people mingled in the yard. Kids ran wild, two dogs barked, and there was a sea of faces.

  A man that I recognized as the back catcher manned the BBQ grill. He grinned at Jackson. “Coolers are over there.”

  Jackson and I walked over to the coolers, and I stood by while he unloaded the beer into the ice-filled chests.

  Lauren came rushing out. “Hey, Jackson.”

  “Where do you want the chips?”

  “Just put them in the kitchen.”

  He glanced over at me.

  “I can do it.”

  “Go knock em dead,” he winked.

  I followed her across the porch and into the kitchen. The conversation went completely dead as seven sets of female eyes turned and took me in. Cheeks on fire, I clutched my purse and the bags of chips.