My Best Friend's Navy SEAL Dad: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance

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My Best Friend's Navy SEAL Dad: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance Page 8

by Flora Ferrari


  “Don’t make me wet,” she gushes, and now my seed is roaring at me, telling me to pull the car over and devastate her needy virgin hole.

  “I’ll save that for after dinner,” I growl.

  She sighs shakily, but she doesn’t say no, and that thought almost makes me roar with a release.

  “You changed the subject,” she says. “If you won’t tell me where we’re going, at least tell me about destiny.”

  I chuckle. “That’s a broad topic, Snapshot.”

  “No, what were you thinking about destiny?”

  The forest is dark around us, the road pitch black, my high beams lighting up the blackness. It’s like we’re floating through the night’s sky, completely detached from the rest of the world. Maybe that’s why this conversation doesn’t feel as silly as it normally would to me.

  Or maybe it’s her, my woman, opening up doors inside I never even knew existed.

  “It’s a clear night. A perfect night for what I have planned. And your car breaking down. And then Mrs. Pennyworth and the phone call interrupting us. It’s like somebody’s toying with us.”

  “Do you really think the universe cares that much about us?” she asks softly.

  “If you’d asked me before I saw you in that sexy-as-fuck waitress’s outfit, I would’ve said no, hell no.”

  “And now?”

  “Shit, Snapshot. I don’t know. I’m not so sure anymore.”

  We’re silent for a while as I drive through the forest. It’s not the awkward silence it should feel like, considering this is our first proper date.

  I’ve never dated much – I’ve never felt the interest, the need that Tess invokes in me – but every time I have, there’s always the feeling that we need to fill every second with conversation.

  With Tessa, it’s like we can sit in silence and just be. It’s like we’re already married, like I’ve already put a baby in her belly, and yet that doesn’t steal any of the shivering excitement I feel every time I glance at her, at her legs especially.

  “What?” she murmurs, tugging at her dress.

  “What?” I smirk.

  “Have I got something on my dress?”

  “No. I just can’t stop looking at your legs. They are fucking perfect.”

  She sighs. “They’re fat, you mean—”

  She gasps as I bring the car to a stop at the side of the road, wheeling on her with rage pulsing through me, my jaw tight.

  “Tessa, never say that again,” I growl. “Or, if you say it, don’t say it like that. Don’t say it like you’re ashamed of the way you look. Because you’re perfect, fucking perfect. I love how curvy you are. I love how thick your thighs are, how much there is of you to grab and explore and tease and play with.”

  I grab onto her bare leg, groaning as I bury my possessive fingers in her flesh.

  She moans, staring at me like captured prey… and yet this prey wants to be captured.

  “Tell me,” I snap.

  “Tell you what—”

  “Tell me you’re a curvy, sexy fucking goddess. Now. Or I swear to god I’ll bend you over the hood and show you. I don’t want your first time to be like that. But I won’t be able to stop myself from pommeling into that tight needy hole, slamming into you over and over until you’re creaming and you’ve forgotten you’re a virgin, to show you how attractive I find you. Say it, Tessa. Say it now.”

  I squeeze her leg harder, turning her captivating flesh red.

  “I’m curvy and sexy,” she says, her voice shivering, making my cock pulse like a heartbeat. “I’m your curvy sexy goddess, Trent.”

  I slide my hand up her thigh, toward her pussy, my fingers pricking with promising heat the closer I get.

  She bites her lip in the way that drives me feral.

  “Trent, not here.”

  I pause, and then I smirk when it hits me. When I realize why she’s saying this.

  “You want to be fucked, don’t you, you horny virgin? And if I start touching you here, you won’t be able to stop yourself.”

  “I don’t want my first time to be at the side of a road,” she whimpers, with lust blaring beneath her words.

  “No, neither do I,” I growl.

  It takes more effort than I can believe to remove my hand and place it back on the steering wheel. She shifts against the seat, and it drives me even crazier. I can tell she’s grinding her perfect pussy against her panties, fidgety in her desire for release.

  “You’ll never know how crazy you make me,” I say, voice rumbling as I pull out into the road.

  “I still can’t…” she starts and I glare.

  She giggles.

  “That’s right. No more I can’t believe this talk.”

  “I didn’t even mean to say it then. It was just going to come out. But I caught myself.”

  “That’s a shame,” I say. “I wanted to catch you… goddamn, that was my cheesiest line yet.”

  Her laughter fills the car like a song, swimming through my mind, setting parts of me alight I never could’ve dreamed of before I strode into the diner and found my woman standing there, waiting for me.

  “I don’t care if you’re cheesy sometimes,” she declares. “It makes me feel special.”

  “You are special.”

  “Just think… only I can make this badass Navy SEAL turn cheesy. That’s one hell of an accomplishment, don’t you think?”

  I chuckle, reaching over and touching her shoulder. And only her shoulder. If I did what I wanted and slid my hand down her body, I’d have to pull over again.

  “You’re changing me in more ways than that, Snapshot,” I say. “Before us—”

  “I love that there’s an us,” she says, her voice happy and carefree.

  But I sense her withdraw after she’s spoken, as though she’s remembering Angela, remembering the complications that are still threatening to drag us apart.

  No, a voice inside of me roars, belonging to my seed. Tonight is about you two. It’s about putting a child in her belly. Nothing else.

  “What were you going to say?” she asks.

  “Before us,” I growl, “I couldn’t imagine feeling like this.”

  “Maybe I should be apologizing for making the big tough Navy SEAL feel, huh?”

  “No,” I say passionately. “I wouldn’t trade the way I feel about you for anything.”

  What about my daughter, though? Would I trade it for her?

  Fuck.

  I can’t let myself think about that.

  Not tonight.

  We’re going to tell her everything the second she’s home.

  Right now, the only thing I can think about is my woman and the evening we have planned. Everything else fades away.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Tessa

  My breath catches as I drink in the majesty of the scene.

  We’re back at the cabin. Part of me guessed this was where we were going the longer we drove, but I didn’t want to tell Trent and spoil the surprise. He looks so intense in his navy blue suit, his hair swept, his face clean shaven and strong.

  He smirks at me as he brings the car to a stop.

  “What do you think?”

  Tears brim in my eyes and I blink them away, feeling silly. But I’ve been tough and hard for so long. All during mom’s illness, I had to make myself cold and capable and not let myself feel too deeply anything she said.

  But now emotion barrels into me.

  There’s a raised wooden platform in the center of the clearing, off to the side from the cabin, with white fairy lights blinking around the wooden railing. A table sits in the center of the scene, bright and glistening, magical in the shimmering candlelight. A path of rose petals leads from where we’re parked to the platform, bordered by red lights that enhance their beauty.

  “When did you have time to do this?” I gasp.

  He chuckles, and there’s confidence and pride in the sound, and a million other emotions I can read because he’s mine as much as I�
��m his.

  “Wait,” I say. “You’re a SEAL. Of course, you know how to get things done.”

  He reaches over and brushes warm tears from my cheeks, smoothing his hand down and rubbing my back. His fingertips leave a tantalizing trail of sensation, dancing over me, teasing me, and making every inch of me hot and excited. I almost want to scream with release right here.

  “So you like it?” he says.

  I glare at him playfully. “Do I like it? I love it.”

  And I love you, I almost scream, but somehow I stop the words before they escape.

  Surely he’d call me crazy if I blurted that. It would be too much too soon. He’d freak.

  He steps from the car and strides around, making me giggle again, but the feeling of the happy laughter causes more tears of joy to rise in my eyes. The emotion is sudden and overwhelming and I’m not sure I can get it under control.

  I’m not sure I want to get it under control.

  He opens the door and offers me his hand, his smirk so close to being a smile, a real, radiant smile.

  I take his hand, feeling the warmth of him and the security in his powerful grip. He helps me from the car and we walk down the rose petal path, his hand on the small of my back, pushing through the fabric of my dress and my jacket to my skin, burning, beckoning, making me wish I’d taken him up on his offer at the roadside.

  My body screams at me to drag him into the cabin.

  It’s right there, my womb cries. We can eat after.

  We walk onto the platform and over to the table, lit with electronic fire-red candles, illuming our silver cutlery and platters that shimmer in the light.

  He pulls my chair out for me and I feel like a princess as I sit down and he shuffles the chair forward, closer to the table, as though he wants to lock me in so I can’t go anywhere.

  As if I’d ever want to go anywhere.

  I shrug off my jacket and place it on the back of the chair as he walks around to his side. He stands behind his chair, gripping it solidly, his jaw tight as his eyes move over me.

  “I should’ve made you take your jacket off before you sat down,” he says, sliding into his chair with a grace that is surprising for a man of his massive size.

  He leans over and takes my hand, staring hard at me, causing goosebumps to rise and a hot sensation to move over me. My womb sings and sends shivering warmth through me, a whelming of belonging gripping me as he smooths his thumb over my knuckles.

  “Are you cold?” he asks.

  “No,” I tell him. “Why?”

  “Your arms.”

  He nods at my goosebump pebbled skin.

  “That has nothing to do with the temperature,” I murmur, aware that I sound like a silly nervous girl, my voice trembling with need.

  “What do you want to eat?” he asks.

  I giggle and nod at the platters. “Whatever’s under there, I guess.”

  He leans back with a shrug. “If you want to eat that, go ahead. I don’t think it’d taste very good, though.”

  “Well, now I have to look.”

  I lift the platter lid and look down at the menu, written in neat script. There’s a range of dishes, ranging from simple burgers and fries to risotto and salads.

  I look around, letting out another laugh. We’re so alone out here, my laughter carrying far, seeming to multiply in the trees. It should be freaky, but a feeling of profound safety washes over me whenever I look at Trent, whenever I think about what he’d do if anyone tried to hurt us.

  “I don’t see a restaurant.”

  “Whatever we order will be delivered by drone.”

  “What?”

  “That’s right. So we get the best of both worlds. An intimate date, something befitting a woman as beautiful and captivating and sexy and talented as you. And the privacy to enjoy it.”

  “Jeez, that’s a lot of compliments. You’re going to give me a big head.”

  He chuckles and a cheeky look passes across his face. I giggle and lash my hand out, somehow not feeling embarrassed by the forward gesture.

  “Don’t you dare say it,” I tell him.

  “Say what?”

  “I know what you were going to say.”

  He folds his arms, causing his suit jacket to hug tightly to his arms. It’s strange. Even earlier today when he was in a T-shirt and I could see the cut of his arms, the outline of his throbbing muscles, they didn’t look so huge. It’s like his jacket somehow makes him look more muscular, like this façade of civilization highlights the beastliness of my man.

  “Is that so?” he says, a bantering note in his voice. “Why don’t you enlighten me then?”

  “Fine.” I stare at him as bravely as I can, even as a vicious voice tells me I’m making a fool of myself. “You were going to say I’m giving you a big head.”

  The glint in his eyes tells me I’m right, but he shrugs and looks away. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Nah uh.”

  I lean across the table and grab his face, guiding him back to me. I can feel the way his jaw tenses at my touch like it’s taking everything he has not to leap at me.

  “Look at me and say it.”

  “You know I can’t.” He laughs. “But I do like the way you’re leaning forward. It gives me one hell of a view.”

  I blush and let him go, my breasts feeling sensitive in the dress, the fabric rough against my sensitive skin.

  It’s like his gaze is sending freaking pleasure beams through me, and even if I know that’s silly, I can’t fight the feeling.

  “Do you really find me sexy?” I murmur.

  Anger passes across his face, the same rage that gripped him on the car ride over when I called myself the F-word.

  “I know, I know,” I rush to say. “You don’t want me to think of myself like that. But you have to understand, Trent. I’ve spent my whole life being ignored. Or, worse, teased about the way I look. I’ve never fit into the mold of what a pretty girl is supposed to be. And then the man I’ve crushed on for as long as I can remember, the man I’ve dreamed about being with…”

  I clear my throat, pushing away the budding emotion.

  “And then you, Trent, you tell me I’m beautiful and sexy and all this crazy stuff. What the heck am I supposed to think?”

  “I’d never lie to you,” he snaps. “You’re beautiful. And if the fucking idiots in your high school couldn’t see that, it’s their loss. I’m relieved they didn’t. I’m relieved I get you all to myself.”

  “It’s just…”

  He sits up, reminding me of his gargantuan size. A look flickers in his eyes, the same look I imagine he gets before a battle. It’s intent and focused with a glimmer of deadliness beneath the surface of his gaze.

  “Tell me their names. Give me a goddamn list and I’ll pay each and every one of them a visit. I’ll do whatever it takes to make you forget the way those bullies spoke to you.”

  “I would,” I say, thinking about how satisfying it’d be for the football captain to come face to face with a Navy SEAL of Trent’s caliber. “But I’m afraid of what you’d do to them.”

  “Yeah.” He sighs darkly. “So am I. I just hate the thought of you being disrespected. My woman doesn’t deserve that. And, shit, it’s more than that. You don’t deserve it, even if you weren’t my woman… which you are, and always will be.”

  He smirks, endearing and handsome and strong.

  “I guess I’m not making much sense, eh, Snapshot?”

  “I know what you mean,” I assure him. “You think women don’t deserve to be talked to like that, even if they don’t belong to a man.”

  “Yeah.” His smirk widens and a hungry look glimmers in his eyes. “But it does make me way, way fucking angrier because you do belong to me. Everything about you is mine. The thought of somebody disrespecting you, goddamn, it almost makes me forget the discipline they taught me in the teams.”

  “The SEALs,” he says.

  “Is it true you’r
e called frogmen too?”

  He chuckles and his expression turns to longing, as though a thousand memories are attached to the word, flooding him with warmth. “Yeah. Sometimes. We’re specialists in the water.”

  “Maybe that’s your nickname, huh? Frogman?”

  I say it with a teasing note, but he stares solidly at me, with that expression that is focused on me and me alone.

  I shift in my chair, my body going hot and needy, my core pulsing and my clit tingling as it urges me to give into my overwhelming desire.

  “Call me any damn thing you want,” he growls. “As long as you keep looking at me like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like you’re counting down the seconds until I fuck you. Counting down until I take you hard, and raw, and pound your virgin slit until you’re overflowing with my seed.”

  I gasp and shift in my seat again, my body sending me a thousand signals, all of them directed at my man.

  My hands tremble as I pick up the menu, which I dropped during our conversation.

  “Maybe we should order first,” I say, with a great effort.

  “You’re probably right,” he says. “We’re going to need our energy for later.”

  His words hang in the air and he looks at me, waiting for me to tell him no, waiting for me to tell him I’m not ready tonight. But I don’t know if I want to tell him that.

  Even if it’s true – even if nerves still sizzle and twist inside of me at the thought of disappointing him – I can’t ignore the promise of pleasure in his every word, his every gesture, his every breath.

  He turns to the menu, his lips twitching.

  He knows.

  And he can’t wait.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Trent

  “Oh my God.”

  My woman giggles as the forest is set ablaze with the sound of a drone, whirring as it carefully moves lower and lower toward the wooden platform. I chuckle as I stand with my hands raised, ready to take the cardboard box that is tied to its underside.

  “Did you think I was joking?”

  “I don’t know,” she says, her face alight with her excitement, lust, and beauty. “How did you arrange this?”

 

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