SEAL Firsts

by Sharon Hamilton

  “Better?” he asked with a hint of a smile.

  Her knees wobbled, knocking against each other. “Much,” she said as she leaned in, almost brushing against his chest, close enough to feel the heat from his body. She was careful not to make contact, though her insides argued with her willpower.

  She step-mounted into the front seat of the vehicle. The black leather groaned. His scent filled the air. Smiling, he handed her the seatbelt, tossed the step into the rear, and slammed the door. Something told her life was about to change—for the good.

  Strap in and get ready.

  They didn’t talk as he drove down toward the wharf. She focused on the Celtic ring tattoo that peeked below the right sleeve of his T-shirt. Staring at the tattoo helped with the not-wanting-to-look-at-his-chest-neck-and-Adam’s-apple stuff. And it definitely helped her not focus on his lips.

  Does he know I’m sneaking little looks?

  Maybe he was used to it. Maybe he liked it. Maybe he didn’t notice. In any case, he never looked back at her.

  They walked into a tiny sandwich shop by the water. Holding out her chair, he stood guard as she seated herself, then he leaned against her back and put a palm on her shoulder as she settled in. On his way to take up position across the table from her, Kyle waved at a couple sitting on the opposite side of the room. The other guy sported a series of ringed tattoos on his forearm, too.

  Clean place but not fancy, she observed. The menu specialized in seafood sandwiches and soft shell tacos.

  “The turkey chili is what they’re known for, even though this is a seafood place,” Kyle said over the top of the paper menu. “But you’d probably like the crab salad sandwich.” His blue eyes flashed on her and a ripple of energy traveled all the way down her spine. He showed perfect white teeth beneath slanted, full lips, which ended with a curl at one side she found so distracting. He had to be fully aware he was turning on the charm. The Blue Charm.

  “I’ve heard about this spot,” Christy said. “A few of the Realtors in my office come here for dinner and drinks after work.”

  “Only if they’re single. This place is a real meat market at night,” he replied.

  “Well, that never seemed to stop some.” She fanned herself with the menu as she looked out over the bay.

  Kyle chuckled. “I’ve never seen Wayne here, not that I would notice. But then, this is a pretty young crowd.”

  “Hmm. Exactly. No, this wouldn’t be his kind of place.”

  “So, you’re single then, Christy?” He glanced at his water glass.

  “Very much so. And enjoying every minute of it.” She’d rehearsed this line in the shower a dozen times just in case it came up. But as she watched him raise his eyes, it sounded ridiculous, but still earned her a smile from his tanned face.

  “I catch your drift. I’m the same.” He’d turned serious. Honest. Totally kissable.

  Their waiter came over and gripped Kyle’s outstretched palm like they’d probably done hundreds of times. “You’re back, and you don’t even smell like a camel.”

  “Goat. No camels. Goats.”

  The two men laughed.

  “Christy, this is Griz. Griz, Christy. I’m going to taste-test all your food now that I know he’s on.”

  “Bro, I got your back. You’ve done enough defending the ladies for a while. Time for some R and R.” Griz nodded in Christy’s direction.

  The crab sandwich tasted better than any she’d eaten, but she could only take a few bites. Her anticipation of this meeting completely eliminated her appetite.

  The couple from across the way dropped by their table and Kyle introduced them. Without Kyle telling her, she knew the man was another Team guy.

  “You seen Armando anywhere?” Kyle asked, adding a quick shrug. The eye contact seemed urgent between the two men, despite what Christy saw as Kyle’s attempt to be casual.

  “Nope. You try LuLu’s?” The Team guy gave Christy a wink, but she could tell all was not well.

  “Stopped by yesterday, but they hadn’t seen him either.”

  “Well, look, if I catch sight of his sorry ass, I’ll tell him his lover needs to get a call from him, ’kay?” the Team guy said, walking backward, holding the girl’s hand. “Nice to meet you.” He waved at Christy.

  “Later.” Kyle waved back.

  “So your friend is still missing?” Christy asked.

  “Yep. Probably holed up somewhere. When we don’t want to be found, nobody can find us.”

  “But you’re worried,” she insisted.

  “He never checked in with me before he left. We always do that. We talk to each other every day.”

  “Every day?”

  Kyle lowered his head. She could see remnants of a grin he didn’t want to show her. “Yep. Every day. We’re practically married.”

  Christy’s cheeks heated. This was totally unexpected.

  Kyle looked up. “Hey! Don’t worry,” he said. “I only go for the ladies. Please don’t get me wrong.”

  “Sorry. Seems like all the best looking guys are gay…”

  “Then I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  His perfect grin made her glad she was sitting down.

  She watched him take the final bite of his chili, tipping the bowl to get the last drop into his spoon. She couldn’t keep her eyes off him or anything that he did. He must have noticed how she watched him. He took a long time to dab his mouth with the white paper napkin, his eyes averted. He licked his lips and swallowed. She followed his Adam’s apple down his tanned throat, and then she fell into his gaze as he searched her face. That smile again—it roped her in.

  Get a grip, Christy.

  “How long has it been?” she asked. Her face blazed heat involuntarily at the unintended innuendo. But he acted as if he didn’t notice. Or maybe he liked it.

  “Three days. Maybe four.”

  “So what are your thoughts?”

  Kyle leaned in, setting aside his dishes, and rested his forearms on the table. “I know he’s in some kind of trouble. I’m sure it’s nothing he caused. There’s a lot of gang activity here in Coronado, and some of the bangers try to hang around our community, looking for Team guys who might have an axe to grind. Misfits.”

  “Community? I don’t understand.”

  “Our SEAL community.”

  “Misfits?” she asked.

  “Stress does things to a guy. Makes him question all sorts of things.” He looked out at the bay and squinted. “But that’s not Armando.”

  “So you think he’s like been kidnapped or something? Held for ransom?”

  “Don’t know. And we’re not supposed to be talking about this.”

  His blue eyes pinned her again. She’d never felt so good being helpless.

  She wiped her hands on the warm, wet washcloth, soaked in lemon juice, and then handed it to Kyle. They touched for a moment and he slid his forefinger along hers in an obvious caress she didn’t back out of. They looked into each other’s eyes, and something understood passed between them. Then his face formed a question.

  “Want a coffee? Like a cappuccino or something?” he asked.

  “Sure.”

  “C’mon. I have a great place in mind, unless you…”

  “I don’t really know the area well,” she interrupted, and then thought maybe she sounded too eager.

  He left money on the table. It seemed natural that he put his arm on her shoulder again, which she liked, but then he quickly dropped it. Kyle walked behind as they exited to the salty afternoon air.

  “Duckies is just down the street,” he said, pointing. “Let’s walk. Parking around here is nonexistent.”

  Rubber duckies of all shapes and all states of dress littered the coffee shop. The barista wore a Hawaiian flowered shirt covered in sun-glassed yellow ducks. Jimmy Buffett blared from the speakers. After getting their drinks, Kyle waved to a group of four guys in the corner, who flipped him the bird when they thought Christy wasn’t looking. Kyle directed he
r to be seated in the opposite corner in front of an opened bay window. They both sat just as a gentle bay breeze tickled the back of her neck.

  “So, Christy, you from here?”

  “No, I’ve just moved down from San Francisco.”

  “Just moved down, as in maybe the last three or four days?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I saw you at the airport.” He leaned back in his chair and gave her an admiring grin.

  Christy remembered seeing that muscled arm with the tats, and how hard his chest felt as she almost fell into him that day at the baggage claim.

  Holy Guacamole. It’s him. That guy.

  Christy regained her composure. Her cheeks flushed recalling the two times she had been so close to him.

  Think, Christy. Get hold of yourself. It’s just lunch.

  “My mother died last year and I inherited her condo, so I decided to try San Diego for a spell. She loved it here, even though she was sick.”

  “Sorry to hear that,” Kyle said with a frown. “Sounds like you were close.”

  “I have a brother I don’t see much. Never knew my dad.”

  “Well, that sorta makes two of us.” He looked out at the water, tightening his jaw.

  “How about your mom? Where does she live?”

  “She’s gone, too. I have no one,” he said it to her with a blank look, but Christy could tell he had steeled something inside him. He seemed practiced at hiding, at being private.

  “That probably makes it easier to do what you do. I have a lot of respect for your profession.”

  He nodded into his coffee cup as she said this. He probably got this line a lot and had grown immune to the words, so she decided to add some levity. “Even though we both know you are a dangerous killer who ravishes females and ties them up with their pantyhose.”

  He laughed. The sunshine of his face warmed her all the way to her toes.

  “Not today, though. Don’t think you’re wearing any.” He leveled the blue charm on her mercilessly.

  He’d noticed?

  His simple comment made her wet. She’d told herself she would let him beg. She would stay aloof, make him grovel to get back in her good graces, but his effect on her was the opposite. Everything he did made her crave more. She even wished she’d worn pantyhose.

  The pause became the most awkward since their meeting, more awkward than the position of his body over hers as he’d incapacitated her on the floor of Armando’s house two days ago.

  “You live here in San Diego, too, right?” she had to ask.

  “I’m between places. Was planning to stay at Armando’s while I looked for a condo.”

  His blue eyes scanned her lips and then searched the side of her face. “Maybe you could help me.”

  God, yes I could.

  “I don’t handle leases, but if you’re looking to buy…”

  “I have a bonus coming and I thought now would be a good time.”

  “The absolute best. There are bank sales and foreclosures all over the county. Even some in my complex.”

  “Which one is that?”

  “The Infinity, down by the harbor.”

  “Nice place. Too expensive.”

  “Not as much as you think. I could show you.”

  Her stomach clenched. She had crossed a line. He’d get scared off now. But she’d wait to see his response before she retreated.

  He leaned back in his chair and nodded with a mock frown. “Okay, we could do that. What about this afternoon?”

  His blue eyes pierced her again—with what he didn’t say.

  They retrieved Christy’s Honda at the real estate office and Kyle followed her over to the Infinity complex.

  “Some of these places went for close to a million dollars when they first came up for resale,” Christy said as she let them inside the furnished model with her passkey. “My mother was one of the first to buy. She got in under a special housing density program.” They both stepped into a beautifully staged great room and kitchen. Through tall picture windows, the bay gleamed as if covered with shattered glass. He opened the sliding glass door and stepped onto the balcony.

  “Nice place. Doubt I could afford it.” He turned, resting his back against the black iron railing, his bulging package prominent. He cocked his head, removed his sunglasses and asked, “How much?”

  “This one’s five sixty. But we could make them an offer. It’s owned by the bank. If you have some sort of down payment, this could be financed VA.”

  “Not sure I have enough.” He walked past her and waited by the slider opening.

  “Want to see the rest of the place? It has a nice big bedroom.”

  She slipped through the door, close to his body, and heard his inhale. He didn’t move out of the way.

  “I don’t care about the big bedroom. I like a big bed,” he whispered, his voice husky.

  She melted and didn’t dare look back at him, but instead kept walking down a short hallway, past a guest bath, and into a bright bedroom. A full-sized bed, covered with a flowered green bedspread, sat against the far wall. She stopped at the foot and immediately felt his heat behind her.

  “Too small,” he whispered. When she turned to look, his eyes focused on her lips. Her knees were shaking. She melted when she heard him murmur, “But it will have to do.” He leaned in and kissed her.

  She raised her arms up over his shoulders and loved the feel of his firm chest pressed against her breasts, the way one arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her to his groin. His other hand fisted in her hair at the back of her head. His wet kiss opened more than her lips. It opened her soul. He plunged his tongue into her mouth, lacing over her teeth, searching. She granted him full access to everything in the moan she couldn’t help but give him.

  He pulled her tighter against the rock wall of his upper torso. She spread her legs and rubbed herself against his thigh with a need she’d not felt in years. Her fingers entwined the short, curly hair at the nape of his neck, then slid around to trace down under his jaw. She pulled away to look at him, needing to see his eyes.

  Without saying anything, she held his face in her hands and stared into the azure sparkles of his soul. One vein pulsed at his forehead as he allowed her to examine the questions written there, the traces of need and pain, of hurt and loss. He let her see it all. And she knew she could heal him.

  She stepped on tiptoes and leaned against him again, as his hand slipped under the skirt of her sundress and smoothed over the lace panties she so carefully had put on for him.

  He kneeled and buried his head under her skirt, licking the smooth satin fabric and then poking his tongue around the elastic to find the slit of her sex.

  “Oh, God, Christy,” he whispered, as he sought her nude opening. And then the roughness of his tongue laved her, deepening their connection. She released herself to his hungry mouth.

  Her thighs trembled, her hands clutching the hair at the top of his head as she leaned into him, pressed into him, and begged him. She begged him to take all of her, anything he wanted, as much as he wanted.

  Anything.

  He came out from under the cotton fabric, a wet grin on his face, eyes blazing, and slowly rose, standing in front of her. He slipped her dress off like lifting a piece of tissue paper from a lingerie box, then stared at her bra and panties. It registered what she had done for him. That she anticipated him seeing those lovely lacy things.

  And she could tell it thrilled him.

  Christy removed his T-shirt, and then let her palms slide over his hairless ribcage and nipples as she squeezed the heavy muscles underneath. His broad shoulders were more massive than she had remembered. Her fingers snaked around his thick neck as she pulled him down to her lips and made him cover hers.

  She moved her hands to the button fly on his jeans, squeezing his erection, which earned her another moan. His hands kneaded her ass, pulling her to him and pinning her arms between their bodies, palms to his chest.

  “Shou
ld we go to my place?” she asked.

  He smirked and looked her over as she stood before him, clad only in her lacy underwear, and shook his head slowly. “Too late. Maybe later.” He stepped closer, holding her head with one warm palm that turned her ear to his lips. “Maybe tonight. Maybe all night?”

  “I might need you all night.”

  “I can deliver whatever you need. I promise.”

  She needed his pants off right now. She slipped them down his nonexistent hips and then over huge thighs, taking off his briefs with them. His warm cock bounced to life. She palmed the entire length of his shaft and squeezed the moist tip. She sat at the edge of the bed and put her lips over the helmet of his crown and tasted him.

  His breath came harder as she worked on him, his fingers sifting through her hair, pushing her head into his groin. Then he lifted her under the arms and lay her back on the bed. He made short work of her panties, leaving her bra in place. His fingers massaged her opening as he climbed on top of her. His gaze searched her eyes, and then sought her mouth. First one, and then a second finger tucked into her folds and she thought she would explode. Christy stroked his length and helped guide him, pushed the head of his shaft against the wetness of her sex. And rubbed.

  God, I need this.

  A shrill voice came from the living room. “Okay, now we have this one here. It’s a little on the small side.”

  Christy and Kyle looked at each other in panic as they realized a Realtor was in the next room showing the home. Kyle quickly leapt off the bed and slammed the door, which drew a resounding “Oh” from a female on the other side.

  They dressed and straightened the bed. Christy’s cheeks were on fire as she looked at Kyle. She swallowed, and then opened the door to face their audience. A portly woman too large for her height stood armed with an expression of surprise and disgust.

  “Sorry. We had to use the bathroom,” Christy said, realizing too late the water to the unit had probably been turned off.

  The Realtor looked at them as if they were road kill, but the young couple behind them grinned from ear to ear.

  “Hey, no problem, guys,” the man said. “It happens.” He squeezed his wife’s shoulder.