SEAL INVESTIGATIONS: A 5-Books SEAL Romance Series

by Lola Silverman

  They had bathed, but they hadn’t actually had sex yet. It was as though the act of washing each other had taken things to the next level of intimacy. There was a pureness about it that transcended the need for physical release. Tasha had enjoyed every second of washing the acres of perfect golden skin on Breckin’s body.

  She was starting to think of him as Breckin now. Yates was the name he used with his team and with the regular world. But he was Breckin to her. She rolled to her side and gently stroked his cheek.

  He caught her hand and brought her palm to his lips. “What are you thinking?”

  “I was thinking that you’re mine and I’m yours and I like it that way.” She pressed her naked body next to his. “I’m also thinking that I want you inside me pretty badly.”

  He growled and nudged her onto her back. “Do you have any idea how hot that makes me when you say stuff like that?”

  “No. But you can show me,” she teased.

  He kissed her deeply. Their tongues tangled together, and Tasha melted into the contact as though she were a starving woman and he was her only hope of sustenance. It felt so good to forget everything on the outside. Breckin was her world right now, and that was all she wanted.

  Tasha spread her legs and felt Breckin slide between her thighs. She wrapped her legs around his waist and undulated against him. The pressure of his erection against her belly was intoxicating. Her pussy was wet and hot, and she wanted him so badly she whimpered with need.

  “Soon,” he whispered.

  His lips gently brushed over her cheeks and forehead. He kissed his way over her jaw and down her throat. Then he surged against her, simply pushing his cock against the hot surface of her cleft. She moaned and pushed back. It felt so good that she wondered if she could come just like that.

  “You’re mine, Tasha,” Breckin told her roughly. “Nobody else will ever have you. Do you understand what that means?”

  She didn’t say anything. She let go of his waist instead and spread her legs wide to accommodate his body. The head of his cock pressed against her core. She felt him slip into her opening. When she would have begged him to impale her quickly, he drew it out until she was gasping with desire.

  Inch by inch, he possessed her. His thick shaft spread her inner muscles, and she welcomed the friction and the fullness. It felt so damn good to have him inside her. Lifting her hand, she gently touched his cheek with her fingertips. She watched his face as he entered her fully. And once he was all the way inside, she saw the expression of bliss cross his features. He was hers. She was his. And that was that.

  “Make me come,” she begged. “I need to come for you, Breckin.”

  He didn’t answer. Instead he backed out just far enough to be able to surge back inside in a long, hot stroke. Again and again, until she was gasping with each movement of his cock inside her pussy. She felt the liquid heat in her veins and knew that she was going to come all over him.

  Breckin’s expression turned savage. “Yes! Give it to me, Tasha!”

  She cried out as the orgasm hit. Undulating waves of muscle spasms left her weak with the pleasure. Bliss left her lightheaded, and she moved against him in erratic little pushes while she whimpered and begged for more.

  He was straining now. He pushed into her body. Each stroke was harder than the last, and he fucked as though he would never have another chance. This was their moment. Or perhaps every moment was simply the last. It didn’t matter. How could it? This was her man, and that was all she knew.

  “Breckin!” Her voice broke over his name. “I’m going to—going to come again!”

  The twirling, spinning sensation of climax left her crying out nonsense words as she came hard a second time. But this time she was not alone. Breckin strained hard against her, pushing himself as deeply as her body would allow. It felt as though his cock kissed the very depths of her soul. And when she felt the hot spray of ejaculate shooting into her pussy, she reveled in the knowledge that he had marked her once again as his own.

  Breckin collapsed, pulling out of her body and resting his cheek against her chest. She was breathing hard and her heart was pounding, but it felt so good to cradle his head against her breasts and gently touch his hair. The tenderness was almost overwhelming.

  BRECKIN LISTENED TO Tasha’s heart thumping like a big brass drum. He heard it begin to slow down, the quick pace settling down into the normal thump thump that told him she was a living, breathing part of his life that he cherished beyond belief.

  He didn’t know how long they lay there together. Maybe it didn’t matter. His eyes drifted closed as he savored the feeling of her fingers brushing over his short hair.

  “Your hands feel good, you know that?” he murmured sleepily.

  She gave a low, feminine chuckle. “I would hope so.”

  “No. Really. I’ve never had anyone touch me the way you do. It’s as if every time you make contact with my skin, you’re touching me deeper than that.” He struggled with the ridiculousness of his statement, but he wasn’t afraid that she was going to judge him. Tasha wasn’t like that. For all of her hard-as-nails exterior and crusty background, she had the heart of a romantic.

  “I understand.” She paused a moment, as though she were gathering her words. “I’ve never been the touchy feely sort. I guess I always struggled with this notion that I wanted men to like me, but I didn’t know how to make that happen without losing their respect. It’s this super fine line that women walk sometimes. And a guy like you was never something I expected to have in my life.”

  “What does that mean?” Breckin frowned, wondering what the hell she was talking about.

  “You’re super hot. You’re great in bed. You’re smart and loyal, and do I really need to go on? Because I’m pretty sure your ego doesn’t need me pumping it.”

  He raised his head in order to meet her gaze. “If you’re saying that stuff because you have some notion that women throw themselves at my feet, you’re way off, my love.”

  “Women must love you!” Tasha argued.

  “I’m a SEAL,” he said flatly. “Or I was. I was married to my work. I didn’t have time for relationships, and I’m not exactly the most personable guy.”

  She seemed to think that over. “I think you’re personable.”

  “You’re biased,” he reminded her. “And the two of us…” Breckin struggled to put it into words. “Anything that you and I have is more than I could ever possibly have with anyone else. Do you not get that, Tasha? You’re my only. As in you’re the only women who really seems to get me. And I know damn well that you’re the only woman I’ve ever met who makes a bit of sense to me. Or, maybe more than that, it doesn’t matter if you make sense. I’m willing to let it ride with the knowledge that you’re going to explain yourself when it matters. And I trust you with the rest of it as implicitly as I trust my team.”

  She opened her mouth and then abruptly closed it. Her eyes glittered with tears. Breckin reached up and wiped one away with the pad of his thumb. Did she not understand how precious she truly was to him? If not, he had failed her horribly.

  “I want to be with you forever,” she whispered. “And I never thought I would say that about anyone. I maybe wanted to say that. I think I even tried to force it. But nobody was ever you.”

  “I’m glad,” he grunted. The idea of Tasha belonging to some other nameless, faceless man was not acceptable under any terms he could imagine. “You’re mine, and that’s all that matters.”

  She gave him a squeeze, and he could have sworn that he felt her happiness. It was a balm to his soul. They lay there for a while just basking in the happiness of being together. Then he finally heard her yawn. Rolling to his side, Breckin tucked Tasha against his body and sniffed her hair. Perfection.

  “Breckin,” she began slowly. “Where do we go from here?”

  “With the investigation?” he clarified.

  “Yes.”

  “That is the million dollar question, isn’t it?” h
e mused. “I suppose the answer is that we just keep plugging along. We’ve got Sparks on board now. Romero and Cassidy are going to keep working the money trail. They’ll figure out the familial connection between the accountant and The Broker. We’ll find out who the bastard is, and then we’ll take him down.”

  “Yes. But what do we do?” She was biting her lip. “It feels wrong that I’m so happy when Rachel and the others are suffering so horribly.”

  “No.” He could not let her fall into that trap. “You cannot hold yourself to that standard, Tasha. You don’t have to be miserable in order to atone for the sins of those men against the women they’ve stolen. The best thing we can do is be happy and healthy and never give up. That’s our job. Don’t ever think you don’t have a right to be happy.”

  She stiffened against him. “What do you mean?”

  “I know you went through some stuff in your life. I know that you were abused and hurt by men. Never think that your suffering was less than anyone else’s. These women will be entitled to lives once they’re found. Don’t you believe that?”

  “Of course!” she said fervently.

  “So are you.”

  He wondered if she truly believed that, or would allow herself to come to a point where she could accept it. That was the legacy of abuse. Sometimes it was an insidious force in the lives of the survivors. It quietly stole away the happy moments of their lives and coated everything in the dirty grime of guilt. Breckin would not allow Tasha to get sucked into that downward spiral of self-punishment. He refused to.

  “I love you,” he whispered. “I will love you even when we have found Rachel and put The Broker on ice. That’s all you need to know. You and I are in this together now. Not just this investigation, but life. I don’t know what it will look like in five years. I’m not even sure what it will look like tomorrow. But I’m asking you to stand with me. Hold my hand and make this journey with me, Tasha. That’s all I want.”

  She nuzzled his neck, and it took him a moment to realize that his skin was wet and she was quietly crying against him. “Thank you, Breckin. Thank you.” She gently placed a kiss on his collarbone. “I love you, you crazy ass SEAL.”

  “A man could never want for more,” he told her honestly.

  Breckin was glad when Tasha slipped into a quiet slumber. She seemed to be resting peacefully. It was more than he could expect the other women were facing. But solving that mystery was going to be a process. At least he knew he had a partner who would never back away and never leave his side. For better or worse, they were in this together.

  Epilogue

  The shadows grew long near the harbor in Baltimore. The fall evening was quickly turning from merely chilly to flat out cold. Soon the snow would blanket the earth and turn the dirty wharf into a pristine wonderland. Then the icy finality of winter would set in, and the black water would be thick as mud with the refuse of a city and the icy shards of the surface being tossed about by the endless tide.

  A sleek black limousine pulled up in front of a dirty warehouse. The building looked derelict. The second story windows were broken in several places. The jagged edges of the broken windows looked almost like the snaggleteeth of some science fiction monster. A lonely orange floodlight buzzed intermittently as it sluggishly attempted to light the narrow entry point where an alley separated the derelict warehouse from its more prosperous-looking neighbor.

  The car idled for a moment before the engine shut off and the driver’s door opened. A shiny black boot hit the pavement as the driver exited the vehicle. He was a large man wearing all black, from his cargoes all the way to his gloves. A hat was pulled down low to shield his face. He glanced around for several moments before reaching for the handle of the back door.

  A second man emerged from the passenger side of the vehicle. He too wore all black. In fact, he appeared to be a carbon copy of the driver. Perhaps the only thing that differentiated the two was the color of their hair. The first man had been blond. This one had black hair. They both seemed inordinately concerned with the safety of the man still in the vehicle. When both men were certain that no threat lurked in the murky shadows surrounding the warehouse, they shared a nod.

  The back door opened. A man got out and straightened his suit coat. He fingered his lapels and adjusted his diamond cuff links. It didn’t matter that his business took him to one of the most dangerous parts of the city. The Broker flaunted his wealth and power at every turn. It was his way. Men fell at his feet, and he wanted constantly to remind them why they did. He was rich and powerful. He ran the show, and never would he allow anyone to forget it. Not even one scrap of femininity in a tattered mini dress.

  Rachel Trapp lay on her back. She stared at the ceiling. In fact, she could not have said how long she had stared at that ceiling, or whether or not it was actually a ceiling at all. What did one call the top of a metal container? Was it a lid? Was it a roof?

  The question buzzed around and around inside her mind like a swarm of bees slowly driving her mad. Her brain often tried to find little puzzles to keep it occupied these days. Sometimes she wondered if she wasn’t slowly going insane. No. She absolutely knew that she was going insane.

  Her hand drifted down to her right hip. She twisted her fingers into what remained of her skirt. The dress had been one of her favorites. Those things had mattered a lot to her in another life. It was funny. She had no idea how long it had been since she had insisted that she and Cassidy go to that stupid club together. Two weeks? Two months? Two years? Perhaps it had been two centuries. That was most certainly what it felt like.

  The light moved. She sat up, forcing her body into a sitting position and feeling the adrenaline begin to seep into her blood. The light did not move in the hell that was her world. It was cold and steady, if nothing else. The tiny slats of light from an unknown source outside her prison stayed constant. It was how she knew that there were seventeen thousand rivets in her little four-walled world. If the light was moving, it meant that change was coming.

  What had happened to the other woman? The thought blasted into Rachel’s head. What was her name? Tasha? What had happened to her? Had Tasha managed to find Alexander and get help? Was the cavalry coming, or was Rachel all on her own?

  Crouching on the floor of the container, Rachel tried to steel herself for the unknown. Then the container doors burst open, and the sudden flood of light dazzled Rachel’s eyes and left her gasping in pain as her head throbbed with the sudden change.

  “Hello, Rachel.”

  That voice! She cringed in horror. Why did he hate her so? Why was he so determined to break her? Who was he? All of these questions wanted to come tumbling out of her mouth, but she clenched her teeth to stem the flood. She knew from experience that none of this mattered. None of it.

  “Shall we have a little talk?”

  The Broker entered the container. He paced around her. His presence behind her body made her skin twitch in agitation. When would the blows rain down upon her? It was the ultimate question always.

  “Bring her.”

  The words were punctuated by two more men entering Rachel’s tiny prison. She knew it was fruitless to resist, but it wasn’t in her to go without a fight. They grabbed her arms. She kicked out and caught one of them in the shin. She heard him grunt, and the hand on her right arm faltered. She lashed out again. This time she planted both feet in someone’s thighs. A curse. A grunt, and then someone roughly grabbed her legs.

  The dingy world spun on its axis as she was lifted off the ground. She dangled by her legs. Her skin burned where they squeezed. Someone smacked her in the ass. Her tattered skirt was up by her waist. Her bottom was bare, and the blow stung like hell. She barely registered it. She was too busy punching whatever she could reach. She clawed with her broken nails and tried to pinch any inch of flesh she could catch hold of.

  She got some blows in, but in the end she was thrown over a man’s broad shoulder. The air huffed out of her lungs. The move left her head poun
ding and her ribs throbbing. She struggled, but her captor threw an arm over her backside and squeezed until she thought her head was going to come clean off. She choked on her own tangled, dark hair as it stuck in her dry mouth. There was no point in fighting, but she knew what was coming and she didn’t want it to happen. Her desperation reached a fever pitch, and she started squirming like a wild thing in a trap. If she could have chewed off her own arm or leg to get free, she would have.

  “No!” she screamed. “No. No. No!”

  There was laughter. The Broker was laughing. She could hear the sound echoing around the empty cavern where her container was stored. She was going to die here, and there would be nothing to mark her passing. There was only one thought in her head. Revenge kept her warm and kept her alive. Some days it was all she could think about.

  “Get on with it. I don’t have all night.”

  The order came, and Rachel tried to stifle her groan. They yanked her dress up and off. Her underwear was long gone, and somehow she was no longer so very aware of being naked beyond the horrible vulnerability. She was outside her body. Or at least she wanted to be.

  Someone put a black cloth sack over her head, and she felt the horrid metal coils of the box spring against her back. She was secured to the corners of her torture chamber with zip ties. The plastic cut into the already infected and wasted skin of her wrists and ankles. Tears rolled down her cheeks even though she had thought that her tears were already dry.

  “My men tell me that you passed information to your cellmate,” The Broker said silkily. “They say that you told her about my ship.”

  Rachel didn’t respond. What was the point? She was strapped to that great hunk of metal, and they were about to make her scream. Did anything else matter?

  “Answer me, Rachel,” The Broker snapped. “Did you speak to her?”