Wet N Wild Navy SEALs

by Tawny Weber

  “How about what I want?” She hated to yet again interrupt, but this couldn’t wait.

  He scowled. “Are you turning down my proposal again?”

  “As if . . .” She stood, leaning over him to remove the oxygen tubes from his nose. “All of what you said sounds great, but I’m capable of killing my own spiders, and at the moment, what I want seems more urgent than a game of Scrabble.”

  “I don’t know . . . Scrabble can get pretty intense.”

  “Now, who’s talking too much?” She leaned closer and closer until his warm, familiar breath fanned her upper lip, making her tingle with the kinds of needs that would sadly have to wait until they were both off medical abstinence.

  Finally, finally, she touched her lips to his and happily groaned. Their kiss was everything she’d remembered and craved.

  At least until he pulled back. “Maisey?”

  “Yes?”

  “I just thought of a major problem.”

  She tensed. “If you’re about to tell me you changed your mind about us—”

  He kissed her quiet. “Relax. All I wanted to say is that at some point soon, we’re gonna have to make a return trip to the Everglades to fetch my truck.”

  Epilogue

  “Hon, I’m telling you that Food Network chef said this is the best way to get our turkey extra juicy. He said if we don’t cook it on super low heat, starting ridiculously early in the morning, it will never be done in time for guests.” It was their first Thanksgiving as husband and wife, and Nash’s friends wouldn’t stop giving him grief about his new penchant for cooking. But then what did he care? In a few hours, they could all eat crow instead of his delicious bird. His meal would hands down be the best any of those bozos had ever tasted.

  Maisey yawned. “As far as I’m concerned, there’s only one thing delicious enough to wake me this early on a day off.” She’d taken a loan to buy her old shop from Delia’s parents, and sales had been great but her schedule hectic.

  “Oh yeah? What’s that?” He added a final sprig of fresh rosemary to his crowning Thanksgiving glory, then placed the lid on the new roasting pan and put the bird in the oven.

  “I think you know.” She hefted herself onto the granite counter of the newly-renovated three-bedroom ranch they’d bought on the same block as their two moms. At times, it was too close for comfort, but it sure came in handy when they needed a sitter. “All this food porn you’ve been making me watch has me hungry for something meatier than gravy.”

  “Yeah?” He washed his hands and dried them on a dishcloth before crossing to her, easing his hands under her lush curls, then kissing her, drinking her in, loving her with every breath of his being.

  She’d slept in one of the white button-downs Harding forced him to wear when he met clients at Trident, Inc.’s new Jacksonville office. He hated those shirts, but loved seeing them on his sexy wife.

  Even better? He loved taking them off of her. One by one, he unfastened buttons, kissing a trail along the way. He pressed his lips to her collarbone, to each breast, to her abdomen, and then lower to the sweet spot between her legs. He urged her legs open and flattened his hand against her chest, nudging her back against the upper cabinet.

  He found her clit, laving it with his tongue until she cried out and pulled his hair. Since they were already trying to give Joe a baby brother or sister, Nash didn’t bother with a condom, but eased inside while tugging her nearer the counter’s edge.

  She wrapped her arms around him, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his neck. “I love you . . . I love you . . . I love you.”

  “I love you,” he said on the heels of a moan. “I love you so damned much. Think our mothers would frown if when we all say what we’re thankful for, I admit that I’m damned thankful for my wife’s sexy—”

  The house phone rang.

  “Talk about being saved by the bell. First—who would be calling this early on Thanksgiving? Second—no, you can’t say anything about our sex lives at the dinner table. Third—don’t you dare stop until . . . Yes, yes . . .”

  The ringing quit long enough for Nash to spill his seed deep inside her, then indulge in a nice, long make-out session before it started up again. “Want me to get it? Or should we go straight for another round?”

  “You should probably at least see who it is.” She shrugged the open halves of his shirt back over her shoulders. “It might be one of our moms.”

  He sighed, then picked up the phone. “Jasper. What the hell, man? I haven’t even found the coffee, let alone made a cup.”

  “Sorry, man. I’m calling everyone. Remember that girl I met? Eden?”

  “Yeah.” Nash scratched his head. “Thought she was in Iceland.”

  “Antarctica.”

  “Same difference—sort of.”

  “Stop screwing around, she’s in trouble.”

  “What’s up?” Nash’s stomach tensed with adrenaline. He hadn’t been a key member of any protection team since getting out of the hospital. As much as he loved playing homemaker, he was itching to get back to action—even if that meant working the home office while part of the team was gone.

  “Mind if we all meet at your place in an hour? She left a cryptic message I want all of you to hear.”

  “Sure. Head over. Maisey won’t mind.”

  She raised her eyebrows and frowned. “If this is about football . . .”

  Nash shook his head, then ended the call.

  “Everything okay?”

  After one more lingering kiss, he said, “We’re about to find out.”

  Dear Readers,

  I can’t thank you enough for spending time with Nash and Maisey. All of my characters are dear to me, but these two sometimes made me cry, scream, laugh or all of the above! LOL! If you enjoyed their story, pretty please with-a-cherry-on-top leave a review on Amazon or Goodreads.

  The next book in my SEAL Team: Disavowed series, OUTCAST, features Eden and Jasper. These two damaged souls have some awfully big secrets that play out in the midst of a deadly, Antarctic-based treasure hunt that I hope you’ll devour! I’ve included the first chapter for a sneak peek . . .

  Happy Reading—Laura Marie

  About the Author

  Laura Marie Altom is the author of fifty novels. Her award-winning work has appeared on numerous bestseller lists and worldwide, she has over a million books in print. Laura lives in Tulsa, Oklahoma with her husband of twenty-five years. This former teacher has been blessed with boy/girl twins and a menagerie of dogs and cats. For fun, Laura’s content to garden, thrift-shop or curl up with a great book.

  Laura loves hearing from readers, and can be reached at the following social media outlets:

  E-mail balipalm@aol.com

  Website: www.lauramariealtom.com

  Facebook:www.facebook.com/LauraMarieAltom

  Twitter: @LauraMarieAltom

  Instagram: www.instagram.com/lauramariealtom

  Pinterest: www.pinterest.com/lauramariealtom

  A SEAL’S SONG by Jennifer Lowery

  Navy SEAL Jack Taggart attends his friend's wedding, hoping to catch some much-needed downtime between deployments. When criminals kidnap the beautiful wedding singer, he knows that he must rescue her, at all costs, if need be.

  Darci O'Shea jumped at the opportunity for a little adventure when she took the job of wedding singer in the tropics, but she didn't expect to be kidnapped by a band of thieves. Nor did she expect her rescuer be a groomsman who could handle a gun as if he'd been born with it.

  Will the battle between their inner demons be the hardest one to fight, or will they find rescue in each other's arms?

  Content Warning: Sexual content

  ***This is a 50,000 word novel***

  **This was part of the SEALs of Summer Superbundle**

  Dedication

  I dedicate this book to my Dad, who gave me my Irish roots, and my voice. Thank you, Dad, for teaching me the beauty of words and song.

  Author’s Note

&
nbsp; Hello and thank you so much for purchasing the Wet-n-Wild Box set! I’m happy to be part of this fabulous anthology and hope you enjoy my offering! A SEAL’s Song is a 50,000 word novel and the first book in my SEAL Team Alpha series. I’m excited to bring you more hot Navy SEALs of Team 5! Sign up for my newsletter so you don’t miss new release announcements and other special offers!

  https://jenniferloweryauthor.com/join-my-newsletter/

  Chapter 1

  Darci O’Shea hit the deck, arms shielding her head as four armed men circled the group of people who’d been dancing, drinking and enjoying themselves until hostile shouts echoed through the warm night. The rest of the small crowd dropped to the floor as orders were barked to be quiet and do as told so no one would get hurt.

  She scanned the open-air bar for the elderly woman she’d been talking to earlier, worried about the lady’s weak heart. When she didn’t spot her, she prayed the poor woman had retired to her hotel room early.

  The men instructed them to remove their jewelry and toss their purses and wallets into the center of the floor. The only jewelry she wore was a precious Celtic knot necklace that had been passed down from her grandmother. It would break her heart to give it up to these thieves.

  Anger knotted inside her. The thieves had their heads covered with ski masks and wore black clothes, but their hands were uncovered. Three of them had dark skin, natives of the island. But one of them had fair skin. American? He hadn’t spoken yet, so she couldn’t be sure. Regardless, she’d remember everything she could about these thieves to tell the authorities. They weren’t getting away with this.

  Thank God the bride and groom had already left for their honeymoon and weren’t here to see this. A beautiful wedding in a tropical paradise. It had been perfect. When the bride had called her to personally ask her to sing at her wedding, Darci had been flattered. Her Celtic Rock band didn’t typically do weddings. But Renee hadn’t wanted to hire the band, just Darci, to sing the most important songs of the wedding. At first she’d refused, telling the bride-to-be she wasn’t a solo act. But, her band had insisted she take the gig. It paid big, and who wouldn’t want to run off to the Caribbean for a weekend, all expenses paid?

  Paul and Renee Townsend would never forget their special day. And now, because of these thieves, neither would their guests.

  “Better do as he says,” someone whispered from beside her. She recognized the woman as the wedding planner. Pretty, mid-twenties, and she’d done a great job planning the wedding down to the last detail. If Darci ever met Mr. Right she would hire this woman to plan her wedding. Well, if her band’s album went platinum.

  When the fair-skinned man noticed she wasn’t moving, he walked over. Before Darci moved, he dropped down on one knee and grabbed her throat in a strong grip as he tried to remove her necklace.

  Darci lashed out, aiming a kick at his groin, but he turned so her blow landed on his thigh. He cursed and backhanded her. Pain exploded in her head and she fell back, clutching her cheek.

  Shouts erupted around her, along with gasps and screams from those watching. He grabbed her and jerked her to her feet. Darci’s head swam. She met his gaze. Blue eyes. Blond-tipped lashes.

  Then he pressed the barrel of his gun to her head.

  “Anyone else care to disobey?” He spoke in a New York accent.

  Navy SEAL Lieutenant Jack Taggart loosened his tie and undid the top two buttons of his dress shirt as he walked across the beach toward the wedding reception. He’d gotten Paul and Renee on their plane to Scotland for their honeymoon. Now he would fulfill his promise to the bride and return to the celebration to check on Renee’s grandmother, Elsie. He’d much rather head to his sailboat and enjoy his second reason for being here. Some much needed R&R after a particularly grueling deployment. But Elsie had taken a liking to him and would allow only him to escort her to her room. After midnight, she’d insisted. She vowed she would stay up until the bride and groom were on their way to their honeymoon before she went to bed.

  He shook his head. For a woman of eight-three years with a heart condition, she could be a firecracker.

  As he approached the bar the hairs on the back of his neck bristled. Instead of hearing music and the noise of a party, he heard muffled sounds of women crying and a male voice giving orders. American. New York accent.

  Ducking into the bushes, he did a quick recon. Four men. Armed to the teeth. One hostage with a gun to her head. The wedding singer. Darci something.

  Moving at a low crouch toward the nearest guard, Jack came up behind him, slid an arm around his throat and yanked him backward. He choked him out before the guy even knew what had happened, and took his weapon. Then he headed for the next one.

  Too late.

  Someone noticed.

  The guy holding the wedding singer shouted and twisted in a tight circle without letting go of her, waving his gun at the other guards. A couple of them grabbed the loot in the middle of the floor and shoved it into a bag as Jack skirted the bar toward the guy who’d been left in charge of finding him. Definitely the wedding to rob. Many of guests were as wealthy as Renee’s family.

  Over his dead body would they get away with this.

  A guard snuck behind a palm tree and picked up his pace. Then all hell broke loose. The flashing lights and sirens from island authorities pumped up the tension. People began shouting, women screamed. A crowd this size wouldn’t be hard to control, but in a panic and with one of their guards down it would be a challenge.

  The guard suddenly joined the action, giving up on his search. Jack cursed, taking cover behind a palm tree. He leaned out to take a look. They were preparing to leave.

  The New Yorker still held the wedding singer. She didn’t belong in this crowd. He and Paul used to wait tables in digs like this. He knew who dined here and who worked here.

  Then again, maybe she did. She was more beautiful than any other woman here. The sapphire blue dress flowed over her lithe body in a way that would bring any man to his knees. Her voice still haunted him. There may not be a million of dollars of jewels adorning her neck and fingers, but her voice was worth ten times that.

  She looked over and saw him. Her eyes widened. He shook his head. With a barely perceptible nod she glanced away as the man holding her jerked her around and started issuing orders to his men.

  One of the guards moved away. Toward him. Jack grinned. Come on over, buddy. As soon as the guy hit the sand, Jack grabbed him and took him down the same as the first one.

  Two down. Two to go.

  He crouched over the unconscious guard, confiscated his weapon and started to rise when a pair of leather boots appeared next to his foot.

  Before he could react, the butt of a gun slammed down on the back of his head. Pain exploded. The ground rose to meet him.

  Darci watched a tall woman in a ski mask hit the groomsman in the back of the head with the butt of her gun. He fell to the ground, out cold.

  Not good. Not good at all. The groomsman had been doing a pretty good job taking out the guards. Had managed to confiscate one of their weapons. And now he was unconscious.

  She wished the woman hadn’t gotten the jump on him. Where had she come from, anyway? Obviously with the group. A ski mask covered her head like the others and she wore all black. Until now, she’d remained out of sight.

  “Round ’em up.”

  The order came from the woman. The man holding her began dragging her toward the beach. She fought his grip, panicked.

  In the distance she could hear police sirens. Closer now. Seconds away.

  She had to stall them. Long enough for the authorities to arrive. And for the guy on the beach to wake up.

  But when she aimed an elbow at the man’s ribs he laughed and jerked her closer to him. “You’re a feisty one, aren’t you?”

  “Let me go.”

  “Oh, no, sweetheart. I’m not letting you go,” he said. “You have something I want.”

  A shudder worked its way down her sp
ine. No, she didn’t. She had absolutely nothing he wanted. Something told her he didn’t mean her necklace.

  Dread stole through Darci. As much as she wanted to believe the authorities were going to arrive in time, she feared they’d be too late.

  One of the guards picked up the groomsman off the beach and slung him over his shoulder. Another guard forced her across the beach toward the marina.

  His gun barrel pressed into her side as he guided her down the dock.

  She saw a couple strolling toward their yacht on the next dock and knew she had one shot at getting out of this. So without warning, she opened her mouth and called out. The blow that came hard and fast to her jaw cut her off before she made more than a squeak.

  Darci groaned and forced her eyes open through the migraine pounding in her head. If she didn’t know better she’d think Brian, her band’s drummer, practiced inside her head for their next gig. Her neck felt raw, as if someone had tried to strangle her. But her necklace still rested on her neck.