Field Stripped: 15 Steamy Military Romances

by Marissa Dobson

  “It scared all of us, Bruiser. When you blacked out, I nearly had a panic attack. The paramedic had to let me feel and hear your heartbeat before I would calm the fuck down.”

  He chuckled as he slipped out of bed to help her move to a seated position. Everything hurt. The bite of pain in key areas didn’t deter her from watching the bobbing head of him as he moved around to stand in front of her.

  “Shit,” she mumbled as she licked her lips.

  His gaze followed hers and he laughed a full belly laugh before grabbing a pair of pants.

  “Eyes on the prize does not mean eyes on this prize, baby. You have family heading this way soon and I’m sure you don’t want them walking in on you in the throws of passion filled fucking. That’s what we’d be doing if you put those luscious lips on my cock. I’d be consumed with marking your walls even though I already have a seed planted.”

  B.B. couldn’t help but laugh at the last statement.

  “Why is it stated a seed is planted if a sperm connects with and egg? I mean the thing fertilizes the … oh.”

  It was his turn to laugh again. She knew her face had to look comical, especially with the bruises that were found there. Still, she enjoyed the fact that she had this man in her corner and loving her. It’s where he should’ve been all along. B.B. promised herself to dwell in the present and remember just how fortunate she was to have a man in her life whose sole mission in life was her.

  Bonus Scene

  “Guess what?” Isa asked the room as she walked. Wellsie rolled her eyes and stood.

  “Yeah, yeah, we already know. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. I thought we’d grown close over the last couple of months.”

  Isa’s face reflected what B.B. knew was complete confusion on the gorgeous, statuesque brunette who stole their leader’s heart. She shook her head as she watched the little scene play out between them.

  “We have. I felt my husband should know first. How do you know?”

  “What are you talking about?” Wellsie’s grown out, partial asymmetrical bang floated back and forth across her cheek as she looked between B.B. and Ghost’s wife. “Why …?”

  “Sharp,” B.B.’s voice called out as she looked at Wellsie who was prepped to read Isa the riot act. She didn’t want two of the only women she considered friends to argue over some misinterpreted situation. “She didn’t and still doesn’t know. No one, but my mother knew before a few hours ago.”

  “Know what? I didn’t know what? What am I missing?” Isa’s questions might as well have been unspoken because no one acknowledged them.

  “Shit! I’m sorry. I just assumed. What was your news?”

  Wellsie looked at the woman that she’d grown the closest to out of the four women that were on the J.H.C. team. B.B. knew the misunderstanding would be soon forgotten once all of the gory details were out in the open. She didn’t understand those relationships. Growing up with boys and a mother that grew up around mostly men had her leaning towards a tendency to not be the girly girl. All of the touchy feely stuff was opposition of who she was. It was something Eli gave her grief about on a regular basis.

  “Well, I wanted to share the news that I’m pregnant, but what’s going on?” Turning her knowing glare toward her, Isa’s motherly eyes looked as if she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that B.B. was the one that knew exactly what Wellsie was talking about. “What’s going on, Belinda?”

  The woman spoke six languages fluently. She had a working knowledge of all of those languages and was on her way to becoming a sought after journalist. Her uncanny ability to see passed the bullshit was one of her greatest assets and one of the things that annoyed the hell out of me. Well, sometimes it annoyed me. Like, in moments when I didn’t want to dwell on the here and now of things. My thoughts were interrupted.

  “Oh , damn! Guys, we’re down two. Brian’s not going to have either one of these women leaving the fortress without an escort or two.”

  Sam snorted as she looked around the room. The guys there nodded in agreement. B.B. groaned and rolled her eyes as Isabel began to speak.

  “What? Wait. You’re pregnant? No offense, but expected to make that announcement.”

  B.B. growled, stood, and stormed out of the conference room. As she left, she heard Isa ask if it was something she’d said. Hell yes, it was something she’d said. No, she was not the one looking to have a shit ton of kids. She damn sure didn’t want one right now. There were things to consider. There were people to be informed. Her mom, dad, and brothers would be thrilled to learn about her pregnancy. Did she even want to go forward with this? Yes, she did.

  In spite of it all, the timing, the status of her relationship and him, she wanted to have Elijah’s child. She wanted to be the one that did this first for him. She’d fucked up before. Her choice to leave because things were getting a little too close for comfort was one of the worst things she could’ve ever done. It was one of her biggest mistakes.

  Author’s Note

  Yay for you! You made it to the end! Congrats! I’m so glad you did. My characters and I are riding on a cloud knowing that you made it this far.

  Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for taking the time to read my work to its completion. I’m so happy that you did. My hope is that this wasn’t a lesson in “How to labor through a novel.” It is my goal that every work that is devoured by readers is enjoyable. If it isn’t, then what’s the point? I also hope that an emotion or two was sparked; all good emotions, of course.

  If you did enjoy this book, there are a number of ways that you can support it.

  First, please call or email a friend and tell them about it. If you really want them to read it, then gift it to them. If you prefer digital friends, please use the “Recommend” feature of Goodreads here to spread the word.

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  Third, please consider leaving a review for this book. It is always appreciated and I do read every review posted.

  If you’d like to read more of my books, below is a list of my other titles. If you have general wonderings on how my author’s mind works, then you have three ways of learning more:

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  Once again, thank you for taking the time to read my work. Be sure to check back soon, there are more works to come.

  Remember to “enjoy life through a good book” and Happy Reading!

  ~Ellie

  Ellie Keys

  Ellie Keys is an author of contemporary romance, paranormal romance and mystery. She spends a great deal of her time lending her unrelenting pen to the voices that have taken over her mind. The characters that readers will find in her works have a demanding nature. Ellie is thrilled to be able to share the stories from the wealth of works that she has created.

  She lives in Georgia with her son. Her loves outside of writing are reading a good book and losing herself in a great movie. Inspiration comes from everything around her. There is a great deal in store for lovers of romance lovers and suspense seekers. She invites you to follow her.

  For more information:

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  Delta Force

  by Julie Morgan

  Special Ops soldier Logan Saunders is at the top of his game. He has led nearly impossible missions in the heat of war, while having a wife at home who waited for his return.

  Or so he thought. Receiving word of a fatal collision, Logan returns home and soon discovers her infidelity.

  Training missions, parties, and women become his life's focus. When the partyi
ng makes him a danger to others and himself, matters are placed into the hands of the military.

  When forced with a life changing decision, Logan meets a woman who will change his life. Problem is, she is his assigned therapist. And she is off limits.

  Will she be able to help Logan get over his past and forgive his wife? What about forgiving himself?

  In the line of fire, there is fight or flight. This is a fight Logan intends to win.

  Chapter One

  Summers in the Middle East were brutal at best. Days were like living in Hell whereas the nights, the night chill could tear through the body and cause someone to freeze to death. As the sun beat down in the desert, sweat beaded on Logan Saunders’s forehead, seeping down his spine, cheeks, and neck. Tension held his body as he pressed his back against the cement building. The ram used against the door did nothing to open it. The prisoners were inside, according to intelligence reports. They were running short on time.

  Lining up with four other soldiers, three men and one woman, for the search and rescue mission, he faced the doorway. Two men faced out from the wall with the woman in between them, and one facing behind.

  The woman, Andrea Bellfast, or Andy to her team, had been brought along as the translator. Her duty was to aid the men in the search and rescue. Theirs was to keep Andy safe.

  Aiming his Mossberg shotgun, Logan shot out the three hinges, then the doorknob. He kicked in the door and quickly pressed his body back against the wall; a loud thud sounded as it slammed against the ground. Dirt billowed up in the wake of the fall.

  Without wasting another second, Logan ripped the flash bang stun grenade from his tactical vest, pulled the pin, and tossed it inside. It exploded with a bright explosion meant to blind anyone not prepared, and a sound so loud it could burst eardrums.

  “GO!” he screamed, and immediately the five soldiers lined against the wall stormed inside the building, assault rifles at the ready.

  Andy pressed her body against the soldier in front of her, the man behind her kept his body close to her as well.

  Screams sounded inside the room. Logan only had seconds, if that. Gunshots fired from the automatic rifles and bodies dropped to the floor.

  As the dust began to settle, Logan took in what they were facing: three, no four, bodies on the floor. A shadow appeared next to the adjoining wall of the room and the man had a gun aimed toward them.

  Logan aimed his rifle and a shot fired, but not from him. Ponce De La Rue, the man next to Logan, took him out. The man dropped to the floor.

  Ponce nodded to Logan, then looked toward another man who sat in a fetal position. The man covered his eyes and screamed.

  Logan pushed the man on his side, checking for weapons and found nothing. He pressed his knee onto the man’s waist and pointed his Mossberg at the man’s head, holding his finger over the trigger. “Prisoners, where are they?”

  The man mumbled something in return that was not English. Logan pressed a knee into his ribs. “PRISONERS!”

  The man yelled out something and flailed underneath him. De La Rue quickly came to his side and bound the man’s hands behind him, then bound his feet. Logan stood and glanced around, waiting for the all clear.

  “CLEAR!” One of the soldiers in his unit appeared with a terrorist in shackles.

  “CLEAR!” Another one appeared with two that were bound.

  “Where are they?” he questioned to himself.

  Andy stepped out from behind De La Rue and held her hand up to Logan. “My turn.”

  He nodded and stepped to the side, allowing her room with the man. She bent down on her knee and tilted her head.

  She asked him something in what sounded like Arabic, but Logan had no idea. The man muttered something back to her. She stood and turned to the men.

  “Behind the wall, over there.” Andy pointed. “There are men, women, and children in there. He asked for his freedom for the information.”

  Logan chuckled. “Not a chance. He’s under our arrest.”

  “Figured as much,” Andy said as she turned back to the prisoner. She spoke something to him and the man all out flailed on the floor.

  “What the fuck did you say?” De La Rue asked her.

  She lifted a brow. “That if he dared try to escape, you would pull his toenails off and feed him to the monster of the desert.”

  “No shit?” De La Rue asked.

  “Fuck no,” she told him in a chuckle. “I told him he was under arrest and that is why he got upset. He begged for us to kill him and put him out of his existence. As he put it, ‘I would rather die than go back with you.’”

  “I have no problem making that happen,” Logan offered.

  “HELP!” Quickly turning around, Logan heard the scream from the wall behind him. He headed toward the sound then pressed his ear against the wall. The man was telling the truth; prisoners were on the other side. He tapped the wall in a few places, wanting to find the difference between solid mass and hollow…then found it.

  Turning to De La Rue, “Get the ram. They’re in here.” De La Rue nodded and quickly ran out of the building. Logan turned back to the wall. “DO YOU SPEAK ENGLISH? CAN YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT I AM SAYING?”

  “YES!” a woman screamed back. “We speak little English.”

  Logan yelled through the wall once more, “GET BACK!” He took Andy by the elbow and pulled her next to him. “Once they’re out, I need you to listen for anything that may not sit right.”

  She nodded. “Understood.”

  De La Rue gripped the entry ram then slammed it against the wall. An impression was made, and after the third hit, a hole formed. Taking a step back, De La Rue bent down and peered inside.

  “How many are there?”

  “Eight,” a woman’s voice called. “Three women, two men, and three children.”

  De La Rue nodded, then stood. “Stay back! We’re coming in!” He hit the wall a few more times, making the hole wide enough for their bodies to fit through.

  “Stand guard,” Logan ordered De La Rue, then turned to Andy. “Stay with him.” The other soldiers escorted the rebel prisoners outside. “Going in.” He pulled the flashlight from his belt, turned it on and shined it inside the room. No physical evidence alerted him of a trap, or otherwise.

  He gripped his Beretta and slowly let one leg into the hidden room, then slipped inside. Standing tall, he took a look around and cringed from the smell. The room had the odor of death.

  Moving his light around the room, since it had no windows, Logan had no idea how long the captives were inside. “U.S. Army. You’re safe now and in our custody. Anyone injured? Any casualties inside?”

  The woman who had answered previously shook her head while she covered her eyes. “No deaths today. Thank you for coming.” She slowly lowered her hand and as the light fell upon her features, Logan visibly gasped.

  She had blackened eyes and a bloody lip. Scratches covered what had been visible on her neck and arms. He glanced over to where the children were hiding behind the men in the room. They appeared to be unharmed, at least at the surface level.

  “There is a Hum-V outside waiting for us with clean water, medical supplies, and food. Let’s go.” As the rescued prisoners made it through the hole to the other side, Logan waited until everyone was out before he investigated the room. No visible toiletry was on hand and he then understood the pungent smell.

  He checked the walls, tapping across the thick cement bricks. No other doors led in or out of the room. How did they get in here, he thought to himself. Most likely they were shoved in and left to die. He glanced up and found feint light peering through the ceiling. Pointing his flashlight upward, he found how the prisoners were forced inside: trap door from the roof. He shook his head and coughed. Logan covered his mouth with his arm and made his way out of the room.

  After having returned to the barracks, Logan showered and dressed. He’d recently been growing facial hair, not caring enough to shave. He kept it trimmed close most d
ays. Dressed in a light tan T-shirt and jeans, he pulled on his boots, then pushed shades on to block the glare of the oncoming sun.

  Making his way toward the mess hall, he thought of the imprisoned children. Absently he twirled the wedding band on his finger, thoughts of having his own children with his wife, Susan. He could not imagine the torment the parents had been through in this war, and how different their countries were. The fear in their eyes, this experience in this country was something they would never forget… most likely never get over.

  It was one Logan will never forget, either. Pulling the trigger and taking a life was not something they prepared you for in grade school. However, with it being fight or flight, and the training he received in Delta Force, he was now prepared for almost anything.

  “And they wonder how children can become terrorist at such young ages.” He shook his head absently to his own thoughts.

  “What’s that, fucker?” Ponce De La Rue joined him as they entered the hall.

  Logan shook his head. “Nothing. Just the mission earlier. The innocents involved.” He waved it off. “Cards later?”

  “You bet,” De La Rue answered. He had a deep voice that commanded attention. The tall man came to the states from Cuba as a child, from what he told his unit. Six foot five, tanned skin and light hazel eyes made him a looker to the ladies. De La Rue knew it and played the cards dealt to him well.

  Most of the men in the unit were equals, especially in the face of war; however, De Le Rue could command an audience immediately. He had a ruefulness about him that exuded leadership. He also had a way with the ladies.