Bad Boy SEALs

by Scarlett Avery

  "Does it make you feel uncomfortable? Maybe the scars are too much to handle? " Brandon asks.

  This is entirely her decision. There's nothing we can do about the way we look. Truth be told, I love the artwork on my body and I know it's the same for my best friend. Would I prefer having unblemished skin without so many damn scars like I did before joining the Navy SEALs? Of course. That said, I served my country and I survived to tell the tale. That's not the case of many of the men who served alongside me and under me. The question is, can a woman like Amelia accept every part of us... even the imperfect ones?

  She takes a step to the left to stand in front of Brandon. She runs her palm along his left arm. He actually shivers under her touch. The way she folds her lower lip between her teeth and bites down tells me that she knows exactly what kind of effect she has on him.

  “Does any of this represent anything?” she asks, her eyes glued to his chest.

  “Nah. It’s just a cool design I liked,” he says pointing to the left side of his chest before gliding his hand down his inked sleeve. “This one here is to camouflage a pretty bad scar and bullet wounds,” he says moving his eyes to his right forearm. “I have some stars on my legs. One for each tour of duty I survived,” he explains. “I have an eagle on my back—that’s purely patriot. That and the fact that the eagle is the symbol of courage and focus—two things I learned serving.”

  “Incredible,” she shakes her head with a frown on her face. Not that I want to stereotype, but I doubt the three guys she’s been with were inked. “God, that must’ve hurt,” she says.

  “No more than getting shot at,” Brandon retorts.

  “Hmph, I guess not. Something else I know nothing about.”

  Amelia steps to her right again. She tilts her head back and searches my eyes for a few long seconds. “What about your tattoos? Do they mean anything?” she asks.

  I shake my head. “No. After my second tour of duty, I was left with some ugly scars and nasty bullet wounds. I decided it was time to do something about it. I visited a tattoo artist back in New York that a few of my platoon mates went to. I told the guy that I didn’t want to see war every time I looked at my body. It took him a week, but he came up with a few edgy designs. Each side of my body has the same design. It’s almost a near perfect mirror image. He added a few elements of surprise here and there to make it more visually attractive. It runs down the side of my right leg—again to hide scars. The left leg remains intact,” I explain. “He also created something really cool for my back,” I add.

  She circles me and comes to stand behind me. I feel her gaze burning my skin. I feel her moving away from me and when I turn my head, I see her admiring Brandon’s eagle.

  “Fascinating,” she nods. “I doubt I’d have the courage to sit in a tattoo artist’s chair for him or her to etch a tiny inked dot on my skin let alone what the two of you have,” she smiles.

  She returns to stand in front of us.

  “So, you’re okay with this?” I press.

  "The scars? I'm used to them. The tattoos are very new to me. I always swore up and down that it wasn't my thing. That I wouldn't dream of being involved with anyone who sports them."

  "And now?" Brandon asks daringly.

  A slow smile stretches across her lips. "Well, now, everything is different."

  "How so?" I ask.

  Her green eyes bore into mine. The way she licks her lips before speaking is so fucking hot. "Because I know you're absolute sweethearts. Dominating as bloody hell," she lets out a nervous laugh. "but secretly, I don't mind that at all... on the contrary... it’s a major turn on," she reveals. Duly noted. “God must've been in a particularly good mood when He sculpted those chiseled muscles. Don't get me started on those six-packs." Brandon and I chuckle. “His hand is undoubtedly responsible for your formidable physique... that and I suspect many hours working out. I've never been with men with such perfect bodies." The lust in the air is palpable. She pauses before letting out a long exhale. "You only have one more item of clothing left. Maybe we should finish this game," she suggests. “I have yet to sink the eight-ball,” her voice is dripping with confidence.

  From the frown on Brandon's face, I can tell he's as surprised as I am by the abrupt change of subject, but neither of us challenges her. This is her game after all. Amelia sashays back to her original position. I expect her to grab the cue and take her last shot, but instead, she grabs hold of the eight-ball and dunks it in one of the pockets.

  Huh?

  “What are you doing?” Brandon asks carefully.

  “Playing by the rules,” she arches a perfect eyebrow. “Touching the eight-ball is a big no-no." She pauses. “In fact, it’s an automatic disqualifier."

  "Are you sure about that?" I press.

  She nods vehemently. "I know the rules and unfortunately I didn't follow them. I'm such a bad girl."

  "You don't want to leave here with your panties on and the win?" I ask. I can't help but smile wide.

  "Technically, I'm no longer wearing them," the timber of her voice is sinful. With that, Amelia lifts a hand to her hair and undoes her sexy makeshift hair tie. Her locks cascade over her shoulders and she whips her head so they fall behind her back. She bunches up her panties and throws them at Brandon. He catches them with one hand. I swear to God I have never seen such a huge grin on the man's face.

  "Are they mine to keep?" he asks.

  "Yes." One word that promises so much.

  Brandon brings her panties to his nose and inhales her scent. “Damn, I love the way you smell. You’re so sweet, I’m going to start a drawer just for you,” he promises with a wink.

  “Really?”

  “Yup. Every time you come up here, I want you to leave a piece of you behind,” Brandon explains.

  “I’m that special?” she flirts.

  “Damn right you are,” Brandon says.

  “You really know how to make a girl feel cherished.”

  “Not any girl. You.” Brandon’s expression is dead serious. Wow.

  Amelia is breaking down our barriers. I know for a fact that Brandon has ripped to shreds his fair share of underwear in the heat of the moment. This is the first he’s talked about keeping mementos. Usually, once he’s done fucking a girl, it’s pretty much over. Sure, she might be lucky enough to get his cock once or twice more, but she shouldn’t expect much more than that.

  “Well, thank you, Petty Officer Buckingham.”

  “I love it when you call me that,” Brandon says. “Especially when I’m half naked.”

  “I’ll have to remember that.” She’s such a tease. Amelia draws in a deep breath—I'm fairly certain she's aware it makes her breasts rise and fall—she arches an eyebrow and says, "As for walking out of here with the win, from what you described earlier, I'd much rather ride your cocks like a Euro train," she borrows my words.

  “And tongues,” Brandon reminds her.

  "Right,” she smiles. “Based on the definition within your boxer briefs,” she drops her eyes to our bulges. "I'm willing to bet my entire fortune that it promises to be a pretty. Good. Ride." At Amelia's low purr laced with mirth and delight, I grin wide. As does Brandon.

  “Damn,” Brandon hisses.

  I don’t even bother answering. I can't. There isn't a drop of blood left in my brain. It's all traveled south.

  I move.

  One single step that eats up the distance between me and the cheeky vixen who’s doing a pretty good job at making me lose my bearings. I’m now towering over her. With my stare locked into hers, I reach my hand out to her and when our skin touches, I close my hand over hers and pull her to me. I slam her body against mine and I bury my hands in her silky mane, lower my face to hers and take possession of her lips with mine. Fuck. Amelia gasps into my mouth granting my tongue access to hers. I take it in a savage dance of dominating hunger and need. Thrusting my impatient tongue inside her mouth, I run my hands down her back until I’m cupping her ass. I squeeze hard eliciti
ng a few squeals from her.

  I'm done waiting.

  My arousal is all-consuming.

  This entire evening has been a cruel game—granted I'm the one who brought it upon myself. Still.

  “God… You… You’re such an insanely amazing kisser," she pants pushing herself away from me.

  "Thank you, but I’m only responding to your passion, angel."

  She flashes me giddy a smile. "Really?"

  "Really."

  "I like the sound of that." She reaches out and runs her hand up my chest. “I love touching you, Holden,” she whispers.

  “Me too, princess.”

  “I love these tattoos on you.”

  “Thank you.”

  I take her mouth again. She fists the hair at the back of my head and pulls me even closer to her. She kisses like last night never happened and I’m hit with the greedy energy of her tongue, the frenzied need of her mouth and the impatient way she gropes at me. Suddenly a nagging thought pops into my mind. A whimper escapes her, the sound captured by my mouth a second before I tear my lips free of hers. “When did you decide to lose the game?” I murmur, my breath ragged.

  She gives me a one-shoulder shrug. “It was an instantaneous decision really. The words had barely left your lips that I already knew none of my toys would ever be a match for your tempting offer. And I know that firsthand."

  “What do you mean?" I ask.

  "When I got home last night, it wasn't even a consideration for me to pull out my favorite toy. Not after what we shared.” Wow. "You might have ruined me forever." Nothing pumps a guy's ego as much as to hear his girl say that. And to think, she hasn't even had the pleasure of dissolving all over our cocks yet.

  "We haven't even started, princess."

  "That's what I'm afraid of."

  Amelia licks her lips. With her breaths puffing from her in shallow pants, she turns her head slightly and slides her stare from mine to where Brandon still stands motionless, watching us. The inferno of wantonness burning from his blue eyes is unsettling. His jaw is so tight. And his cock is bigger than it was a few minutes ago. Not that I know how that's even possible.

  Amelia waves Brandon over. “Are you just going to stand there and stare at us?" she asks.

  Brandon just blinks at her. I've never seen him in this frozen state before.

  "She wants you," I call out when he doesn't budge. Still nothing. "Brandon, buddy, snap out of it. Our princess needs you." That seems to do it.

  "Sorry. I’m lost in my own world. I've been waiting for this moment for so long," he confesses.

  "I want to be able to touch you as well, Brandon, but I can't if you're standing across the room," Amelia pleads.

  Brandon's nostrils flare as he combs a hand through his hair. The man is holding on by a thread. “It does something to me to watch you with Holden like this. I'm not used to it yet, but goddammit do I ever love it."

  And with that, Brandon strides towards us, grabs Amelia by the shoulders and swirls her around so she's facing him. He then crushes her lips in a smoking hot kiss. Our little princess melts into his arms. I'm not surprised Brandon is as voracious as I was just a mere few seconds ago. He captures her tongue, coaxing it into his mouth, taking full possession of it. Damn. Amelia groans rolling her hips and grinding her stomach against what I suspect being the rigid length of my best friend’s trapped erection.

  “Oh, God, Brandon.” Amelia’s cry is heady. My best friend bends slightly at the knees and presses his body against hers even more. I do the same by pushing myself against her back as I grind my hips against her, making it unquestionably clear how much I yearn for her. Fuck. Brandon is all over her tits and I’m getting a kick out of how she gets on her tiptoes to press her ass against me with more fervor. She’s sandwiched between two incredibly horny and eager alpha males and she seems to be loving every second of it. “Ohhh,” she moans when Brandon slides his hands up her sides and cups her tits. “Shit.”

  “What’s wrong, sweetie?” Brandon says, “Is the game becoming too real for you? Too much for you to handle?”

  “You guys are turning me into a woman I don’t even recognize anymore,” she confesses. "You're transforming me into this reckless daredevil."

  “I disagree." Amelia snaps her head back towards me. "I think she’s always been inside you. We’re just giving her permission to be as naughty as she wants," I set her straight.

  "I don't know if I was born to live on the edge like this," she says with a teasing smile.

  “I myself adhere to the belief that you should charge through life without fear or hesitation. I have no problem being your mentor.” She smiles up at me.

  "Same here," Brandon chimes in. "And I'm not adverse to late, late nights and very early mornings," he grunts before taking her mouth again. They’re at it again, their tongues intertwined in a sexy dance. It goes on for a few minutes, each stroke of their tongues hardening my cock. With a groan, Brandon drags his mouth from hers and traces a line of nipping bites down the curve of her shoulders. Since her V-neck is already so inviting, it doesn't take much for him to take full possession of her tits. With one swift movement, he pulls down the top of her dress, exposing her gorgeous tits. Before she can even gasp his hands are all over her. “Fuck, you like the way I roll your nipples between my fingers, sweetie?" Amelia responds by tilting her hips forward. That suggestive movement tells me everything I need to know. "Look at you, you're desperate for my big cock.” Brandon has flipped into the role of dominant tease.

  “Oh, Brandon,” Amelia whispers tilting her head back and closing her eyes. She's already undone by pleasure.

  Brandon shifts his eyes up to me, his hands still kneading Amelia’s tits. “Fuck, these are amazing,” he mouths. I laugh.

  Satisfied, he returns his attention to the woman moaning in his arms. His lips travel down until they seal around a nipple, suckling on her beaded tip as he gropes her other breast. He's feasting on her flesh with a ravenous appetite. Sucking and lapping at her tits like a man on a mission. The harder he sucks the more Amelia shivers, and the more both of them moan the more turned on I become. Fuck.

  And then it hits me how intense it will be between the three of us when Brandon and I fully take her. The perfection of this moment causes me to growl as I thrust my cock into Amelia's back. My hunger tears a whimper from her.

  “Jesus, feeling the two of you at the same time is surreal,” she purrs. "You’re so big... and so hard...”

  “You like that?” I ask with a voice I don't even recognize.

  "I bloody love it," she whispers. "God, I may never be able to go back to it being just one guy.” Her confession is very unexpected. Wait until we both fuck you at the same time.

  Brandon and I exchange a furtive glance. Knowing that she's taking pleasure like this is intoxicating.

  Her feverish words unshackle the last of my restraint. I drive my erection harder into the crevice of her ass cheeks, fully aware there's only the fabric of my boxer briefs and her dress between us. The abrupt move causes her to lunge forward. Brandon grunts into her breasts. Unbothered, he continues sucking on her nipples harder and harder, drawing from her an exquisitely agonizing mewl.

  After a few long minutes, he pulls away from her and straightens to his full height, his breath ragged as he rubs his cock into her stomach with gritted teeth. Gazing down at Amelia, he says, “Fuck, I can’t keep it together any longer. I suggest we move this to somewhere that's a little more comfortable. As sexy as the idea is, I don't think our first time with you should be on a pool table," he chuckles.

  “Let’s get her undressed first,” I suggest.

  “Good idea,” Brandon agrees. “She’s wearing way too much clothing.”

  I kneel in front of her. I doubt our princess is much more than five-two or five-three. With my six-six frame, we’re practically at eye level. Sure, those high heels give her an advantage, but not by much. “I’m eager to get you naked. Let’s see if the bra matches the panties
.” Without asking her permission, I start disrobing her by inching her red dress up. The movement is slow and deliberate as the fabric slides off of her body. Brandon grabs it with both hands when it reaches her shoulders and pulls it right off. With agile hands, he unhooks her bra and tosses it to the side. It happens so fast, I barely have time to blink let alone appreciate that it’s the same gold lace as her panties. When my eyes lower to Amelia’s pussy, I gasp. “What happened to the patch of hair that was there earlier today?”

  “I shaved it off,” she says shyly.

  “You did?” Brandon asks, circling around her to stand near me. “She’s all bare,” he marvels. He takes her in, raking his eyes up and down the length of her body. "I bet that's going to feel silky smooth," he says.

  “What prompted that?” I ask her. She averts her gaze. I reach out my hand and clench her jaw, forcing her eyes on me again. “I asked you a question, angel.”

  “I like the way your tongue feels against my skin—”

  "Didn’t I just say that?" Brandon interrupts.

  "Thank you, Sherlock Holmes. Can we hear it from the girl?" He rolls his eyes at me. "You were saying, angel?"

  "I like it a lot, actually. The same for Brandon's tongue. It’s just that... I wanted more," she confides. Brandon and I lock eyes. I’m certain the cocky grin on his face matches mine. "God, that makes me sound so slutty," Amelia continues. "It's like I'm so desperate to feel your mouths again that I’d go to this length. I've never in my life walked around bare down there. It just seems so promiscuous. It’s no better than me painting a huge red X on my fanny as an invitation."