by Dawson, Zoe
For a minute they stared at each other, her gray eyes warm with an affectionate sparkle. She reached out and cupped his face, rubbing his stubble against her palm. “Dammit, you look so gorgeous all scruffy, you bastard. I’m sure I look like a banshee.” Then she frowned. “But that was probably more your fault for sex rolling me like a thug this morning.”
“Sex rolling you?” He laughed softly. “Damn, woman. You and words.”
“You fuck good. All that advertisement delivers on the promise.”
Hollywood laughed again. “It’s a fact—raging morning boners are a way to check my health.”
She ran her hand over his balls and dick and grinned softly. “Oh, yeah, you are in excellent health then,” she murmured, her brows lifted.
“It’s good for me,” he insisted, deadpan.
“Mmm,” she whispered sexy, low and hot into his ear, “It’s good for me too.”
He nuzzled her neck. “Morning wood. It’s good for everyone,” he said with a wicked grin. “Dick, Dexter and Lefty know what they’re doing. Dexter’s the right one, by the way.”
Willow grinned along with him then laughed. “I got that, right for dexterity. You named your balls?”
She ran her hand over him again tenderly. Still sensitive from his release, it felt so damn good.
“Well, yeah. How else am I going to tell them apart? They’re twins.”
She arched her head back and let out a deep laugh that curled inside him like sunshine. That would have to happen every damn day. He needed a daily dose of that.
Her mirth subsiding, she grabbed his wrist and peered at his watch. “Oh, God. Is that the time?”
She tried to roll away from him and bounce out of bed, but he caught her around the waist, dragging her back.
“Where are you going in such a hurry?” he said. “Lefty is showing interest.”
She giggled and wrestled with him.
“That’s only making it better,” he whispered in her ear, setting off more giggles.
Willow said between bursts, “I’ve got to get to work, you crazy sex god. Let me go. I can’t be late. Got to get back here in time to set up for the shoot.” She sighed when he nuzzled her neck. “You?”
“Going to the beach.”
“Lucky.”
“Not for what we have in mind.”
“Oh, sounds intriguing.” She snorted and started wiggling again. “Damn, Hollywood. I’m going to be late, you charming bastard.”
“One more cuddle,” he groused.
“I have a shift to do,” she said, laughing at his puppy dog eyes. “You are incorrigible. It’s a good thing Ron loves me.”
His arms tightened around her. “Do I have competition?”
“Pffft. SEALs are a dime a dozen in Coronado. Who in their right mind would want a hard-muscled, devastatingly handsome hero hanging around, saving distraught women from the ocean, handling dads with just the right amount of respect and toughness, dealing with their feels in an honest and straightforward way and performing like a sex god in bed?”
“Sex god was a nice touch, but Lefty is insisting you pay a price,” he said, copping a feel of her breast as he lifted her in one powerful move and sprawled her across his chest. Her startled and sultry look said she appreciated the strength it took to lift her. “You weigh less than my rucksack, babe.”
She shook her head in amazement, her eyes holding something in them that made his heart flip over. “Are you trying to make me swoon?”
“No, it was Lefty’s idea. He has an amazing imagination and can be such a bastard when he wants his way.” Making her laugh was a desperate move. He was overwhelmed by everything, especially how he was feeling about this woman. He was afraid if he didn’t talk nonsense, he was going to say something…really stupid.
“Is Lefty going to tell my boss why I was late?”
“He doesn’t talk much, mostly to me.”
Willow dropped her forehead onto his chest, her shoulders shaking. “Okay, Lefty wins. What’s the price?”
“A kiss and if you’d pirouette into the bathroom, there’ll be something extra for you tonight.”
“I don’t know many ballet moves.”
“Aw, that’s too bad. Lefty is disappointed.”
“Stop it. I have to pee, and you’re not making it any easier.” Her laughter was contagious. “I’ll practice my pirouettes at work and see what I can do,” she said with a solemn promise in her eyes.
“Lefty says that’s a deal breaker, so you’d better work it out.”
“The kiss, I can do,” she said, sliding up his body and straddling him. She leaned down, her breasts grazing his chest, her long hair falling like a curtain on either side of him.
“Lefty approves,” he whispered as her mouth touched his, pressing into a long, slow and deep kiss.
She broke the kiss and got off him then headed for the bathroom, but before she closed the door, she said, “Tell Lefty there’s more where that came from when I see all of you later.”
He groaned softly. “Yeah,” he laughed. “Lefty definitely approves.”
A tiny blonde with bombshell potential, meaning she was primed to explode all over him. He loved her chaotic, kinetic energy.
Hollywood hoped she didn’t kill him.
* * *
“Get up, Senior Chief. I’m glad to see you still here,” Hollywood said. “Willow went to work with a very big smile on her face.”
The man opened one eye and glared, intimidating as hell, his grizzly face pulled into a scowl. “Was that because of me or you, boy?”
Hollywood was going to stay away from that with a ten-foot pole. “I’m making breakfast so move…sir.”
“You’re smarter than you look,” he growled.
“Dress for a day at the beach.”
“Oh, it’s going to be like that? I think you should wipe that smug smile right off your candy-ass face, or I’ll take care of it for you.”
Hollywood snorted. “Yeah, see if you can keep up.”
Something no Navy SEAL anywhere could ignore—a direct challenge. Covers rustled.
“I’ll whip your ass,” Will called as the bathroom door slammed.
Hollywood took himself and his smug smile into the kitchen. As he prepared a hearty, healthy breakfast, he also had a big smile on his face. Willow put it there, and he pulled out his phone and texted her.
“Lefty is still thinking about you.”
She texted him back. “Stop it. I will spill coffee all over someone.”
“It’s not me. It’s Lefty. He’s quite the crazy nut.”
“OMG!”
“He wants to know if you’re practicing your pirouettes.”
“I’m going to block your number.”
He laughed out loud and turned the omelets over. “Okay, slugger, get back to work. Geez, woman, that’s what Ron pays you for.”
“You just lost a selfie of me practicing my pirouettes!”
“Dammit, you’re quick.”
“And deadly. We’ll see how mouthy Lefty is tonight.”
“Lefty eats threats for lunch.”
“OMG! You’re killing me. Stop bothering me, or I’ll call a cop.”
“I can be there in ten minutes. You got a back room where I can take your statements. The ones you made this morning were good. Let’s see what else I can get out of you. I’ve been told I have amazing interrogation skills.”
“Now instead of just being distracted, I’m wet and distracted. Don’t you dare come here.”
“I’d rather come in you. You shouldn’t have told me you were wet. Now Dick is getting riled up.”
“OMG! OMG! Customers are glaring at me. Keep all of them in your pants. Stop sexting me, pervert.”
He chuckled again.
“What is so funny?” Will asked from the doorway dressed in a pair of running shorts, a T-shirt and running shoes.
Hollywood texted her a heart then tucked his phone in his back pocket and served up the omelets. He
poured two glasses of orange juice, snagged two empty mugs and grabbed the pot of coffee, putting everything on the table.
“I need something to eat with, genius.”
He went back for silverware.
After almost a decade as a Navy SEAL, Hollywood had woken up with complete awareness and a honed edge. He’d endured the toughest military training on the planet, preparing him for extreme physical and mental challenges of many kinds. He’d been trained for all types of spec op work in all kinds of environments: desert, urban, mountain, woodlands, jungle and arctic conditions, with specialized skills. Training and action were a way of life for the brotherhood.
Nothing had trained him for Willow Blackmoon.
Yet he was feeling his way through this relationship—aw, hell, the r word—with Willow and her dad. He saw from the very beginning that they were a package deal. Not a hardship. Will Blackmoon was part of the brotherhood, an integral part that had shaped not only Hollywood but just about every member of their team, including Ruckus.
He wasn’t kidding when he said he was a legend. And that legend was hurting. Hollywood wasn’t going to stand by while he spiraled into guilt, despair and homelessness.
It wasn’t that they owed him anything. It was honor in a small community of men who had each other’s backs and supported each other with the kind of dedication they gave to their country for the opportunity to serve.
Hollywood had a full day planned, and waking up in Willow’s bed hadn’t been on the agenda. He’d had no idea he was going to get so caught up in the photographer when Ruckus and Cowboy had sprung the assignment on him. They would all be ribbing him soon enough. He was breaking his rule for Willow. His interest over the last few months in keeping up his one-night stands in the wake of his teammates finding such amazing women to share their lives had begun to erode. Watching them fall in love and move on to fatherhood had been sobering in many ways, made him question his own future. He’d met some beautiful, wonderful women in his life but not one he cared about as much as he cared about Willow.
She was fiercely strong, had the military brat background, made his dick hard from just breathing, was talented as hell, even though she didn’t have a clue, and loved like a Mack truck full of soft baby chicks. It was a revelation that hit him hard.
All these years, he thought he could avoid pain by being a moving target, making his heart harder to hit, but ducking the real thing would only leave him with nothing. Ashley had cheated on him, that was true, and he’d been devastated from that relationship, but it was even more than her betrayal that had jaded his outlook at love.
Like every person on this planet, he wanted a deep connection that transcended flesh and bone. That’s what had been the most disappointing experience of his life so far—he’d thought he’d had that with Ashley.
He’d been disillusioned with hopes of being proven wrong but hadn’t so far—until Willow. Weary to the bone, he’d wanted to find something real, but other than the brotherhood and the Navy, he hadn’t. He’d adapted to get what he thought he wanted, shoving his needs somewhere they wouldn’t bother him, but with that foolish, cowardly move, he’d hidden his true feelings and refused to get pinned down, commitment a foul word in his book.
But now he could only think of how much he wanted to be with Willow and learn everything about her.
She had the advantage of already knowing what it entailed to be with a warrior. There wouldn’t be any surprises from the daughter of Will Blackmoon. He would have raised her to be as tough as nails, and she could weather his deployments and absences like a trooper.
Will took a bite, and his expression told Hollywood that he considered the eggs very good, the bacon was crispy, and the toast slightly burnt. He remembered how the senior chief took his breakfast.
“It’s passable,” he growled.
“Thank you, sir,” Hollywood said with a sunny smile.
“Keep doing that, and you’re going to get on my nerves.”
“I think that train has left the station.”
Will grunted and finished everything on his plate and every drop of liquid.
“Ready? Hollywood asked, picking up the plates and quickly rinsing them. Setting them in the dishwasher, he wiped his hands while Will watched him.
“You’re a squared away, sailor,” Will said.
“Learned from the best.”
Will grunted again. “Lead the way. This is your dog and pony show, boy.”
Will followed him out of the house, and he locked it as Hollywood watched his steady hands do the job. No more trembling. That was a good sign. A good night’s sleep and food would go a long way to restoring the senior chief’s equilibrium, and Hollywood was going to ensure that he was covered, nine times over. Settling into Hollywood’s car, they pulled out of the driveway and drove to a local beach that was close to Willow’s pretty Victorian.
Hollywood got out of the car and started walking toward the sand with Will following. When he reached the shore, he scanned for the guys. He expected they would be near the PT area so that their charge could use the pull-up pole. He spied the team and started toward them.
Will hung back at first, and Hollywood turned. “Come on, Will. You’re not afraid of your old students, are you?”
He took a hard breath. “You tricked me.”
“No, I didn’t. I said we were doing a beach workout, and we are.”
“Semantics,” he growled, but he picked up his pace. As Hollywood approached, he saw that Kid, Wicked and Cowboy were sitting in lawn chairs, coolers beside them. Scarecrow, Blue and Tank had brought Bronte and were standing around a tall, good-looking blond kid—Hemingway.
Kid turned his head and smiled when he saw Hollywood. Then the smile left his face, and he straightened. He swung his legs around and pulled off his sunglasses. He stared, then stood abruptly. “Attention!”
All conversation stopped, and all his teammates saluted.
Will slowed, and he saluted them back, his jaw clenched and his throat working. He looked away out to sea. From his expression, it was clear to Hollywood that he was deeply affected by seeing that salute from fellow SEALs, and Hollywood became even more convinced that all this man needed was the community.
Hollywood and Will stopped in front of Kid as his teammates and Hemingway gathered next to Kid.
“Senior Chief Blackmoon,” Kid said. “It’s an honor.”
“Petty Officer Ashe Wilder,” Will growled. “You’re still alive?”
Everyone chuckled.
“Yeah, I know, right? I’m married and have a kid on the way, so I’m not as batshit crazy as I used to be.”
“Congratulations,” Will said, his voice warming considerably. He moved to the next man. “Master Chief Wes McGraw. I’m not surprised you made that rank so quickly. You were a steady and true sailor, a rock in BUD/S.”
“It’s been a while, and thank you, sir,” Cowboy said and smiled broadly.
“Petty Officer Orion Cross. You still a stoic son of a bitch?”
Wicked laughed and shook Will’s hand. “Not as much these days. Getting married to the love of my life has a way of mellowing me out.”
“That’s too bad,” Will said with a crooked smile. He moved on to Tank, reaching down to pet Bronte. “I didn’t peg you for a dog handler, but she’s a fine warrior.”
“That she is. It’s a pleasure to see you again, sir.”
“Thank you. Ocean Beckett. Good to see you’re doing well.”
“I am, sir. Good to see you as well.”
He moved on to Scarecrow. “Porter, best damn swim records I’ve ever seen. I don’t think they’ve been broken yet.”
“It’s only a matter of time.”
“And who is this?”
“Soon-to-be Petty Officer Atticus “Hemingway” Sinclair.”
“Is that so?” He looked around. “Ah, I see. You’re the reason we’re here. Training for PST?”
“Yes, sir. I’ve been training since I was seventeen.”
“Shows a lot of grit to start that young. Who do you know here?”
“Petty Officer Wilder is my brother-in-law. He was the one who encouraged me to apply and has been helping me along. Then the team got involved.”
Pride washed across Will’s face. “That’s a fine thing they’re doing.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you for helping me. I’m ready to do what it takes to make the grade.”
“I like that can-do attitude. Well, what are we waiting for?” he barked. “Let’s get the lead out.”
“Aye, sir,” Hemingway said with a smile. He immediately bolted for the water with Wicked, acting as his swim buddy, right on his tail.
Hollywood settled into one of the lawn chairs and opened the cooler. He pulled out a lemonade. Kid sat down next to him, and the team gathered around as Will walked down to the water’s edge to watch Hemingway do his five-hundred-yard swim.
“Hmmm,” Kid said. “You brought the senior chief with you. Could you have ulterior motives?”
Blue laughed and sat in the sand, pulling out a lemonade. He screwed off the top. Sweat was rolling down his face. They’d been busy while Hollywood and Willow were fucking each other’s brains out. “Hollywood is the King of ulterior motives.”
“Could it be…” Kid asked slyly, “Willow Blackmoon has captured our Hollywood’s particular attention?”
“He needs a team,” Hollywood said. “He lost his, and he’s floundering. I think this will be good for him. He needs us and the community to make it back home. He’s still in that hellhole over in the Sandbox.”
Kid sobered and nodded. “That’s a noble reason, but I think you’re deflecting and trying to shame me for asking direct questions about Willow. Who, by the way, is a smoking hot babe.”
“I may be seeing her.”
Kid huffed out a laugh and nudged Tank who was standing next to him. “He’s seeing her. Will Blackmoon’s daughter. Hey, Ocean, could you pass me the popcorn? I promised Hollywood I would take a front row seat to his downfall.”
Scarecrow made a wuh-PSSSH sound and pantomimed the crack of a whip. “Looks like the P-whip is coming out.”