Assigned (Navy Seals of Little Creek Book 3)

by Paris Wynters

  I close the distance between us and circle my arms around her waist. “I know you’re still angry at me. I wish we had time to resolve the issue before I leave, but we don’t. Jim explained to me what your side must be like. I don’t think I can ever apologize enough. Just know I didn’t mean it in any malicious way.”

  She nods. Her eyes are wet, lips pressed tight together as if she’s trying to keep from crying. “I know you’d never do anything to intentionally hurt me. It just meant so much to me to not have them think of me as sick.”

  I hang my head. That had been pretty much the screwup to end all screwups. “I’m so sorry.”

  She rests her head against my chest. “I know.”

  I tip her chin up toward me and place a gentle kiss on her lips. To my surprise, her hands circle the back of my neck and pull me in closer as her mouth opens beneath mine. My tongue tangles with hers and a bolt of desire shoots through me like lightning. I’m instantly hard.

  She leans back to look me in the eye, a sparkle there that makes something flutter in my chest. Her hand slides down my chest to my crotch, cupping me through my jeans. “How soon do you have to be at the base?”

  I glance over her shoulder at the clock on my bedside table. I wish I had the time to take her slowly, to worship every inch of her with my hands and my mouth and my tongue, to bring her to the edge again and again and then watch as her orgasm crashes over her. I don’t, though. “I have a little time.”

  She unbuttons the top button of my shirt and says, “I’ll take what I can get.”

  Every muscle in my body tenses as she finishes unbuttoning my shirt and slides it open. Her hands roam my chest, pausing over my nipples, and sending a shudder through me. With her gaze locked with mine, she reaches down and unbuckles my belt. The buttons and zipper of my jeans are undone next and she pulls the hard length of my cock free. Still looking into my eyes, she sinks to her knees. She circles the head of my cock with her tongue and I groan. Her tongue sweeps up and down its length, leaving a trail of warmth behind it. I close my eyes and let the sensations wash over me. Then she takes me in her mouth, its wet-hot heat sending fire through my entire bloodstream. I reach down to cup her head as she slides my cock in and out of her mouth, finding a rhythm like a drumbeat that matches my heart.

  After a minute, I can’t take it anymore. I lift her to her feet and practically tear her clothes off. In a moment, she stands before me without a stitch of clothing between us and I marvel at the perfection of her. I back her up until her knees hit the bed and she’s down on her back. I ditch the rest of my clothes.

  I cover her mouth with mine. The sweet tangle of our tongues change into a pillaging. I want more of her. I want to go deeper and farther. She arches beneath me and moans. Still kissing, I let my hand slide to her breast, cupping its weight, my thumb circling the nipple. I’m rewarded with a gasp.

  My hand slides lower, over each line of flat, sunken skin. Her scars are living proof of how strong she is, of what a fighter she is. Then I’m between her legs, tracing the line of wetness there. Her legs fall farther open. “Lucas,” she whispers into my mouth.

  I slide a finger inside her and she bucks against my hand. I discover the rhythm she found with her mouth on my cock, searching for and locating the swollen mound of her G-spot. She undulates beneath me and I kiss my way down so my mouth joins my hand. Still with my finger inside her, I find the sweet mound of her clit with my tongue. She says my name again. Louder.

  And then I sweep my tongue into that most sensitive spot, circling and toying as my finger massages inside her. The buck of her hips picks up speed. The blood is pulsing in my ears and in my cock. Then she’s pushing me away. I look up. “Did I . . . did I do something wrong?”

  Her pupils are so dilated I almost can’t see the color of her eyes. “Nothing wrong. You did everything right. Now get up here and let’s finish together.”

  After putting on a condom, I lay on my back and she straddles me, my cock reaching for her like another arm. For a moment, she stays poised over me, the lips of her pussy just brushing against me, driving me wild. I thrust up just as she glides down and I am deep inside her. I grab her hips as she begins to rock on me. Her body undulates above me, her hair a blond river falling over her face as she leans down to kiss me again.

  Then she’s back up, rising and falling, taking me deeper and deeper inside her warm wetness. I slide my hand between her legs, letting her rub her clit against my knuckle as she rides. Her hands rise to her own breasts, cupping them and teasing her nipples, and I feel myself edging closer to my own climax. “Riley,” I groan.

  “Yes,” she gasps, picking up her own rhythm.

  Her pussy squeezes me harder and she rides faster.

  “Yes,” she says again. Louder this time.

  I won’t last much longer. I can’t. My cock is so swollen for her that I feel like it might split. The feel of her on my cock, the sight of her rising and falling above me, the taste of her still on my lips. It’s all more than I can bear. I arch my back, and just as I’m about to explode, I feel the shudders of her orgasm overtake her and she’s screaming my name. Her pussy massages me with the last convulsions of her orgasm.

  I want to lie there in a tangle of limbs with her forever, but that’s not the way this works. I roll to my side and kiss her. “I have to go,” I whisper.

  “I know,” she whispers back.

  Silently, we dress, retrieving our cast-off clothing from around the room. Riley giggles when she finds her panties hanging off one of the bedposts and the sound makes me feel like my heart might burst. She’s happy. I’ve made her happy. Once we’re done, I carry everything downstairs and drop it at the front door.

  I turn and take her in my arms. “I hate leaving you.”

  “I’ll be here when you get back. Don’t worry about Mason. Anything he needs, I’ll be there for him too.”

  “Thank you.” Her words mean so much to me. I bend down and place a soft kiss on her lips. She deepens it, as if tasting me for the last time. Reluctantly, I pull away. Need to get to base. Being late is not an option.

  “See you soon.”

  She waves and I turn around, pick up my stuff, and head out the door. Done this what feels like a million times. No matter what, it never gets easier. But this is the life I chose, and while there are many amazing parts to it, leaving is one of the parts that sucks.

  I shake my head to chase away the sadness. “I’ll be home soon enough.”

  Getting in my car, I turn on the engine and back out onto the road.

  Yes, I’ll be home soon.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Riley

  Lucas has been gone for two weeks and I’ve talked to him once. For five freaking minutes. This fucking sucks. Every night as I go to sleep, I hug his pillow to me. There’s a lingering hint of sage from his shampoo that invades my dreams with his presence. I miss having those muscular arms around me, making me feel safe and loved. I miss the way he set my body on fire with his touch. My dreams are full of him, strong and tender, but when I wake up every morning, the bed is cold and lonely. I wake up alone. I work alone. I eat alone.

  I toss the fork I’m holding down onto the table. No amount of chewing makes these eggs easier to swallow. My mouth is dryer than a sandbox in summer and each passing moment only leads to the next. Not to mention everything I eat tastes like cardboard and not because of the restricted diet.

  “Today is just one of those days,” I remind myself. Not every day is going to be cheery and I have to remember all the good that has happened over the past two weeks.

  Like the fact I started working. It’s only part-time and it will be a while before I qualify for benefits, but it’s going well and it’s a huge step to being able to take care of myself. Also, my volunteering at the surf school has led to picking up some private lessons. I love working with the kids. Passing on my love of surfing to them feels like a gift. I’m thrilled with how I’m making a life for myself here in Vi
rginia Beach, but I know it would be sweeter if I could share it with Lucas. Each step I make toward making my own life here means I’m building the life we can lead together when he comes back.

  And the biggest shocker? Lisa called me to help out on a few occasions with Mason. He even slept over one night. I know Lucas would be as happy as I am that his family is supporting each other, but he doesn’t know.

  Lisa reaching out means she views me as someone she can rely on. That Mason can rely on. And that is the best feeling in the world. For once, no one is viewing me as the weak, sick girl who needs to be taken care of. I’m the strong one who can take care of someone else.

  This marriage, being part of this program, isn’t a short-term gig anymore. When Lucas comes home, I fully intend to talk to him about my interest in looking past the one-year commitment. I still want to be independent, able to take care of myself, but I want to do that standing at his side.

  Speaking of . . . my gaze falls to the reading log I need to sign for Mason. With all the technology that exists and that schools make the kids use, like Google Classroom, I can’t believe they still send home a paper form for parents to sign. This could easily be done online. But the school year will be over in two weeks. Maybe the school has a suggestion box. I could make the recommendation for next year.

  I can’t believe it’s already mid-June. What Mason does over the summer? Camp? Vacation? I bite the corner of my bottom lip. Should talk to Lucas about it, come up with a plan in case he has to spend time here. Maybe we could all do something together, take a mini vacation. I’ve never been to New York.

  My phone rings and I reach across the table and grab it, hope making my heart quicken. “Lucas?”

  “Sorry, no. Mrs. Craiger, it’s Dr. Patel.”

  Crap. This can’t be good. She didn’t look so enthused during my appointment yesterday. I’d hoped she was just having a bad day or something. “Hi. I thought maybe it was my husband.”

  “I understand.” She pauses for a moment, then continues. “Mrs. Craiger, some of your test results came back yesterday and I’m a bit concerned. I’d like you to come into the office today. We have an imaging facility on the first floor. I think we need to get a better look at what’s going on.”

  My throat closes up and tears prick at the corner of my eyes. I take a deep breath and try not to get too ahead of myself. “Does it have to be today?”

  There’s another pause. “Yes. I do feel it’s urgent enough you get in right away. I don’t want to panic you, but this isn’t something that can be put off.”

  The fingers of my free hand curl into a fist and slam against the table. Yeah, today is one of those really fucking sucky days. And just when I started to think I’d be able to actually have the life I wanted. “What time?”

  “Come around noon. You might have to wait. We’re squeezing you in.”

  “Will do.” What else can I say? After everything I’ve been through, no way am I going to prolong whatever imaging or tests the doctor needs to run. The sooner the tests are done, the sooner I have meds that can help, the sooner I feel better.

  At least the appointment is early. I’ll have plenty of time to pick Mason up from school. Lisa got stuck with some urgent appointment and asked if I’d step in. Hopefully, the appointment’s not with her lawyer. Wouldn’t that be typical of the day I’m having if I helped Lisa take custody of Mason away from Lucas?

  The doctor hangs up and the last of my appetite drops like a stone while my stress levels go through the roof. That was definitely not the call I needed today. Maybe I should forget the idea of traveling to New York.

  Three hours later and I’m still sitting in the godforsaken waiting room. Screw the lime-green paint. I know they use it in waiting rooms because it’s supposed to remind you of nature and make you happy. It’s not cheery, though. It’s only irritating. I get that they’re squeezing me in, but doesn’t anyone realize I have a life? That I have other obligations? That I’m a complete person, not just a case of Crohn’s.

  I glance once more at the clock on the wall. I need to leave in thirty minutes to reach Mason’s school in time. I drum my nails against the wooden armrest. Seriously, how much longer is this going to take?

  The nurse comes out from the back holding a folder and I sit forward on my seat and pick up my purse. She calls out someone else’s name and I collapse back in my chair as a middle-aged man wearing mom jeans follows her into the back. We play out this same scenario three more times. How many more times will we do it? The waiting room is full. I have no idea how many of these people are going to be called in before me. At this rate, I’m going to walk out of here an old woman.

  Fifteen more minutes pass. My heel taps against the floor and my temples pound. I have to make a choice. Either I walk out of here and hope the doctor can squeeze me in another day or I wait. If I leave, what more damage could happen if I need treatment but don’t get it as soon as possible? But if I wait, what do I do about Mason? It strikes me how very much alone I am here with Lucas gone. It doesn’t just suck to be alone. It hurts. I curl over, holding my stomach.

  Lucas’s words from when he was leaving come back to me. Reach out. Call Madge or Taya or Inara. Maybe I’m not alone. At least, not totally. I pull out my phone. The phone rings a couple of times before the call connects. “Inara?”

  “Hey, Riley.” She sounds happy to hear from me and I feel some tension leave my shoulders.

  “Don’t mean to be a bother, but I’m kind of in a jam.” I grimace, hating having to rely on someone else, hating feeling like I’m unreliable, especially when it comes to Mason.

  “Sure, what do you need?”

  “Lisa asked me to pick up Mason today and I’m stuck at a doctor’s appointment. I was supposed to be seen at twelve, but they’re running ridiculously behind. Any way you might be able to go get him for me? I can come by your house after I’m finished here to pick him up.”

  “Absolutely. Just text me the address and what time I need to be there.”

  I glance up at the clock and cringe more. I’d waited as long as I could. Literally. “Actually, you probably have to leave now. Is that okay?”

  “Consider it done.” There’s some shuffling that comes across the line and then Inara speaks again. “And Riley, don’t forget, we’re all there for one another and never hesitate to reach out. For anything. We all need a hand now and then.”

  The meaning of her words sinks in. Asking for help doesn’t mean I’m weak. I wouldn’t think less of Inara if she asked me for a favor. Maybe admitting that I need a little help doesn’t mean I’m helpless. “Thank you. I appreciate this so much.”

  We hang up and I send her the address. Finally, after taking a deep breath, I sit farther back into my chair and relax a bit. Some of the weight is off my shoulders and I feel the relief of knowing I’m not alone and that the wives of Lucas’s teammates are on my team too.

  I’m not sure what I would’ve done if I didn’t have them for support.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Lucas

  I stare at my ex-wife’s phone number on the caller ID of my phone. Literally have been back in Virginia Beach for five minutes. I haven’t even gotten to my truck yet and there she is, making my heart sink down to my boots. It didn’t use to be that way. Even after we’d split up. Since she got engaged and moved, though, every phone call has been some sort of argument. I could hit the “ignore call” button. But no, I can’t. Mason could need something. I pause in the shade of the hangar where our plane just landed and accept the call, preparing myself for the barrage of how I did something wrong.

  “We need to talk.”

  Yup. Definitely should’ve hit the ignore button.

  I drop my pack to the ground, pinch the bridge of my nose and force my voice to come out as steady and calm as possible. “Hello, Lisa. About what?”

  “Your wife.”

  I grit my teeth. Yeah, fuck no. I thought this was going to be about Mason. If I’d known she wanted
to complain about Riley, I definitely wouldn’t have answered. “Lisa, you have no say over my personal life. Including who I marry.”

  “You’re right. But I do have a say over who Mason is around. And your wife is untrustworthy. Our son is not in good hands with her.” There is a bite to her voice, as if she’s prepared to fight.

  I take the bait even as I know I shouldn’t. I’m exhausted and my defenses are low. This training was hard. Not just due to the nature of the exercise, but also because I hardly got a chance to speak to Riley or Mason. I miss my damn family. I was in a place where I didn’t have a second to myself, but I still felt lonely. Now my arms ache to be around them both.

  “You have no idea what you’re talking about. Riley adores Mason. She’d do anything for him.” The damn woman pretty much ripped the head off his teacher, fighting for his well-being. The pressure in my head and shoulders increases. I rub at the back of my neck, trying to release the tension.

  “Yeah, well, then explain to me why she couldn’t go pick up Mason after she said she would. Riley didn’t even bother to call me. Instead, she sent someone else, some stranger. What was so damn important?” Lisa’s breath is audible through the phone. “Did she have a date or something?”

  That was a low blow and she knew it. Was she really insinuating that Riley was stepping out on me while I was gone? When had Lisa started fighting that dirty? Well, dirty is as dirty does. “Fuck you.” I hang up the phone. Damn it. I’ve never cursed at my ex-wife. Hell, I’ve never cursed at any woman before. I was raised in a “yes, ma’am/no, ma’am” household. Well, I did swear at that one nurse that time, but that was because she reset my thumb after I dislocated it. Hurt like a son of a bitch. Mother Teresa herself would have probably told that nurse where she could shove it.

  My priority can’t be to win a fight, though. It has to be Mason, and for Mason’s sake, I need to be on good terms with his mother. I take a deep breath and, opening my text messages, I shoot off an apology to Lisa for my behavior and tell her I will call later. Then I tuck the device into my pocket. This shitstorm is not what I wanted to come home to.