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SEAL's Secret Baby

Page 24

by Ivy Jordan


  “It’s just a little spicy,” I admitted, calming myself as he broke his eyes locked onto mine. “But I’m gonna finish it,” I declared.

  “No way. Let me make you something else,” he insisted, reaching for my plate.

  I reached out, stopping him before he could take it away, my hand resting on his. I hesitated; the roughness of his skin made mine tingle, and a feeling stirred in my gut that I couldn’t deny. He’s your hero, your savior, Bailey, that’s all. I shrugged off the feeling, refusing to fall prey to my own desires. I didn’t even know who the hell I was. What business did I have thinking of him that way? I wasn’t married—he’d pointed that out clearly enough with the absence of a ring—but I could be with someone, in love with another man, one who was searching frantically everywhere for me in this storm.

  “There is something you could do for me,” I coaxed.

  His hand released the plate, and I quickly took mine away from his. “Anything,” he smiled.

  “I really need a bath,” I pleaded.

  “Of course. I’ll boil you some water,” he agreed. “Let me go grab some firewood first, okay?” he added.

  I nodded, grateful for this strong, handsome man who’d opened up his private home to me and cared for me with such grace and kindness. “Thank you,” I smiled, trying not to stare directly into his hypnotizing eyes. Beneath that scruff was a beautiful man, one that tugged at my heart strings like a musician on a harp. Shit, stop it, Bailey!

  “It can wait if the weather is too bad,” I stressed, staring out the window. The snow was coming down harder than earlier, no longer just a flurry, but a steady flow of white fluff that turned the daylight dark.

  “Nonsense. We need firewood anyway. It’s only gonna get worse,” he informed me, news he’d neglected to share before.

  I sighed, falling back onto the couch, realizing that I may be stuck here for a while longer.

  Xander piled on his heavy coat, hat, and gloves, and pulled open the front door. A gust of cold air forced its way inside, chilling me to the bone. It quickly closed, but left behind a chill in the room that made me shiver. I reached for the blanket on the arm of the couch and curled up inside it. The smell of burnt wood—birch, for some reason I recalled—was heavily mixed with a musky scent that Xander carried. I brought it to my nose, took a long whiff, and felt a strange comfort by its aroma.

  The fire was still crackling, and a small flame flickered above the last log. I assumed if I wasn’t there, he wouldn’t have kept it so warm inside, as he was much more adapted to the elements than I was, obviously as I shuddered under the warm blanket. Xander swung an axe, breaking large pieces of log into smaller pieces just outside the window. The wind was whistling so loud it sounded as if long fingernails were sliding across the cold glass. I hated that he was out there in the cold and that I was stuck inside on the couch unable to help.

  What was I doing up here in the mountains? If there was a man in my life, wouldn’t he have been here too?

  My eyes closed as my head rested against the soft cushion of the couch. I tried to remember something, anything, but the only image in my mind was Xander. The last three days spent with him caring for me had made him my past, present, and my future. The feelings weren’t real; I knew they couldn’t be. There was a real past, a real present, and a real future waiting for me outside that front door.

  Frigid air busted back into the cabin as Xander entered. He carried a large stack of freshly chopped wood with what appeared to be little effort in his strong arms. “It’s nippy out there,” he joked, transporting the load of wood to the tile by the fireplace. I watched as he placed a couple logs carefully over the flames and then poked at them until the small defeated flame burst up with a new life. “That should do it for now,” he boasted, brushing the snow from his coat before removing it and hanging on the hook near the warmth of the fire. “We’ll get you a bath, and then I’ll gather more for the night,” he announced.

  “I really appreciate everything you’re doing for me, everything you’ve already done,” I uttered.

  His eyes narrowed and shifted away from mine as he moved to the other side of the cabin. He dug through the cabinet until retrieving a large pot and then filled it with water before bringing it towards the fireplace. “You don’t have to thank me. It’s been kind of nice having someone to talk to,” he smiled.

  “I guess you don’t get much company up here,” I teased playfully.

  His grin was magnetic, pulling at my heart strings once again with a powerful force.

  “Why do you want to be alone?” I asked a question I’d already asked several times, but received no real answer.

  Xander lifted the pot of water onto a hook above the fireplace, and then turned towards me with a warm smile. “Some of the guys came back fine, some didn’t. I seemed to be the first to jump into things, so I saw a lot, too much I guess,” he explained.

  “But you’re not there anymore,” I said softly.

  “True, but sometimes it still feels like I am,” he sighed.

  “Maybe if you didn’t isolate yourself, it would feel different,” I suggested, hoping I hadn’t stepped over his invisible boundary.

  He hesitated, not speaking and looking away from me for what felt like an eternity even though it was only seconds. “Maybe,” he chuckled, his blue eyes returning to mine, warn, kind, and filled with more than just the humor he tried to portray. To me, his eyes were filled with sadness, as if I’d hit a nerve. Maybe this mountain man, this macho scruff of a man didn’t want to be alone. Maybe, he just hadn’t found the person who could understand him and love him for who he is.

  “I’m going get your bath started,” he mumbled, taking the barely warm water into the bathroom. He filled the pot several more times, dumping it into the tub at various temperatures; the last was boiling. I heard him running water in the bathroom and knew it was time to finally get cleaned up. I couldn’t wait. The awkward silence between us while he worked had left me alone with myself, and all I could do was smell my stink.

  “You want some help?” Xander asked, sticking his head out from the bathroom door.

  I did, but I hated to ask after intruding on his life not only by being here, but by pushing topics that he obviously found uncomfortable. “I can manage,” I insisted, grabbing hold of the umbrella and using it to steady myself on one foot.

  I started towards the bathroom, nearly falling as Xander rushed towards me to prevent the mishap. His strong arms cupped under mine, lifting me against his hard chest. That aroma of musk and birch soared under my nose, stirring that feeling once again. “Let me help you,” he smiled.

  I nodded, realizing it was foolish to try and do everything on my own. Xander moved to my left side, propping me up as I used his body to balance my steps. Inside the bathroom, he’d lit several candles so the windowless room wasn’t so dark and instead had a romantic glow.

  He helped me to the toilet seat, where he lowered me carefully, and then ran his hand through the water. “If it’s too hot, just run some cold water. The insulation on the pipes should last another day or so. After that, we’ll have to start using the snow for water,” he grinned as if he was kidding, but something told me he wasn’t.

  He pulled a bar of soap, a wash cloth, and a bottle of shampoo and conditioner all-in-one from the medicine chest and set it on the rim of the tub. “I’ll leave you be. Holler if you need anything,” he stated, and then pulled the bathroom door shut as he left me alone.

  I pulled my arms from the sleeves of my top, and wiggled my way out of it without too much trouble. As I reached behind me to unlatch my bra, my hip twisted, causing me to send a moan echoing through the small room.

  “You okay?” Xander’s voice sounded frantic from the other side of the door.

  “I’m fine,” I lied.

  My fingers stretched as far as they could, finally grasping the clasp of my bra. I tugged, but got no release. Shit!

  I was exhausting myself fighting with the meta
l hooks, so I decided to save them for last. I unbuttoned my pants, gripped them on each side of my hip, and tried to lift myself to push them down. As soon as I started to lift, I moaned out again, sending another eerie echo through the room.

  The door handle turned slightly, and the door cracked open. I couldn’t see Xander, but his voice was still frantic as he asked again if I was okay. I sighed, falling back against the cold toilet tank. I knew this was a losing battle, one that would probably cause me more damage if I tried to continue. I needed help. I needed Xander’s help.

  “This is embarrassing,” I confessed.

  “There’s no need in being embarrassed,” he assured me. “What do you need me to do?” he questioned.

  A long sigh rolled up from my throat and out of my mouth, leaving a puff of white air that resembled smoke in the room. “I can’t get undressed,” I mumbled.

  Silence on the other side of the door made my stomach ache.

  “So you want me to come in and help?” he stammered.

  Oh my God! I can’t believe I am about to do this. “Yes, I do,” I choked.

  The door pushed open a bit further, and then Xander’s head popped into the room. “I can’t guarantee I won’t peek,” he snickered. It was obvious he was as uncomfortable and nervous as I was with his attempt at lightening the situation. I did appreciate his playfulness though. It helped relax my tension.

  He entered the small room, leaving the door open so the warmth of the fire could take away the chill in the air. “Let’s get this off first,” he suggested, kneeling down in front of me and reaching up for my bra. His hands were cold against my skin as they slid across my back. Goose pimples corrupted my smooth skin as nerves, cold, or possibly excitement rushed through me. With one quick motion, the bar was unsnapped and dangling from my breasts. I held the material with my hand, refusing to let it drop and reveal my flesh to this man I barely knew but still found myself attracted to.

  Xander didn’t pay attention to my desperate clinging to the satin material, instead he moved onto my pants. “I’m going to lift you,” he said softly, pushing his hands under my arms. He pulled me from the seat, letting my already loosened pants fall past my hips before sitting me back down. He carefully pulled them from my legs, one by one, with extreme caution around my bad ankle. “Would you like help with those?” he motioned to my panties.

  I was mortified when I looked down, realizing I was wearing white cotton briefs that were anything but flattering. I must not have a man, if I did, I couldn’t imagine wearing underwear that nearly reached my belly button. I giggled nervously as I contemplated my next move. I knew I couldn’t lift myself and was going to need help in and out of the tub. If I lifted my leg that high to get in, it would certainly send me toppling over in pain. But, then again, if I let him help me, he’d see me and everything I had—or didn’t have.

  “I’ll be a gentleman, I promise,” he smirked with a foolish twinkle in his eyes.

  “I bet,” I scoffed, chuckling at his attempted scrupulousness.

  “I promise,” he reiterated with a serious tone. His blue eyes melted into mine, and that smile beneath the scruff of his overgrown and shaggy goatee melted my anxiety away.

  “Okay. I’ll need help in and out of the tub too, so you’re gonna see stuff,” I joked.

  “Stuff?” he questioned playfully, his eyes widening and eyebrows reaching towards his hairline.

  “You know what I mean,” I giggled.

  He lifted me once again, and this time his rough hands slid along my hips as he pulled down my panties. When he sat me back down, my bare ass twitched against the coldness of the toilet seat, causing him to chuckle. “Cold?”

  I smirked nervously, grateful he was looking into my eyes and not between my legs as he slid my panties down my legs and off my feet. “Okay, let’s get you in the tub before your water gets cold,” he leaned over, lifting me up from the cold seat and against his warm chest. His goatee tickled my face as he held me up, and the scent of the musk and birch tickled my nipples with inappropriate thoughts. “I’m going to lift you up and then into the tub,” he directed his movements.

  I let out a long exhale of surprise as he scooped my legs from the floor and into his arms. He cradled me like a child, his hand resting on my ass cheek, and his eyes I caught resting on my breasts. I closed my eyes, hating that this was turning me on so badly, and soon felt the warmth of the water surrounding my aching body.

  “Is it too hot, too cold?” he asked.

  “It’s perfect.”

  Chapter Seven

  Xander

  Holy shit! She was perfect. Her body glistened under the candle light and crystal clear bath water. I tried not to look, but it was impossible. This woman had gotten to me—I knew that already. Now, with her lying naked in my tub, staring up at me with hungry green eyes, there was no denying my attraction.

  My inner demons battled against one another, one telling me it was natural, the other telling me it was wrong. She wasn’t in her right mind. She didn’t even remember her own name, but I knew she felt it too, at least I think she did.

  I reached into the water, causing her to shudder as my hand gripped her leg. “I’m just elevating this,” I reassured her, placing her ankle on the edge of the tub.

  Her long red hair fell over the side of the tub as she sunk into the water, looking relaxed and satisfied by its warmth. I couldn’t stop my hand from reaching out to touch it. It had been so long since I’d touched a woman, and I had no idea how badly I missed it until right in the moment her silky strands rolled through my fingers.

  “You want some help washing your hair?” I asked reluctantly.

  She turned to look at me, her face displaying an emotion I was incapable of reading.

  “I-uh, I mean I just thought it would be awkward for you is all,” I stammered, feeling like that nineteen-year-old kid in the strip club getting his first lap dance.

  “Thank you,” she smiled, lifting herself up from the water and scooting down the tub.

  I pushed her hair into the water, and then reached for the plastic pitcher I kept on the floor to rinse my own mane when bathing. Her eyes closed as I filled the pitcher with her bath water, giving me an opportunity to scan her body freely without fear of being caught. Fuck, my dick was pressing against my jeans so hard it hurt.

  I soaked her hair and then lathered the shampoo through it, using my fingers to massage her scalp and cause her to moan with pleasure. My dick twitched against my jeans, begging to be let out. I took a deep breath, willed the erection to calm, and started rinsing the suds from the red locks.

  Soap clouded the water, leaving my eyes disappointed, but my dick relieved, but only for a moment. “Do you have a razor?” she asked.

  My eyes widened at her request, knowing she’d need assistance with at least one leg, if not both. I rose up from the floor, grabbed the razor from the sink, and quickly handed it to her. “Do you mind?” she asked.

  I didn’t speak. I couldn’t have spoken if I wanted to. I nodded like an idiot, taking the razor back from her, and reached for the soap to lather up her smooth flesh.

  Bailey rested against the back of the tub, trusting me with the sharp tool to remove the soft hairs growing from her legs. I wasn’t an expert, but to me, it appeared she hadn’t shaved in a while from the lack of hard stubble. Maybe she didn’t have a man. My dick twitched again as I pulled the razor up her leg with a slow, steady stroke.

  I gave her other leg the same treatment, leaving her skin smooth and silky when finished. “You need anything else shaved?” I smirked, twirling the razor between two fingers like a pistol.

  She laughed, lifting my soul from the deep, dark place it had been for so long and bringing it closer to my heart. “I can handle that,” she grinned, snatching the razor from me.

  “I’ll be outside. Yell when you need help out,” I gloated and quickly made my way out of the room before she could notice the bulge in my jeans.

  My head spun li
ke a helicopter blade as I leaned against the wall outside the bathroom. What had gotten into me? This was our fourth day, going on fourth night together, stuck in this small cabin. Maybe it was cabin fever and nothing else.

  Her sweet voice rolled from the bathroom after twenty minutes, asking me to help her out. I rubbed the front of my jeans, ensuring my erection had diminished before walking inside. I held up a large towel by tucking it under my chin, and then leaned down to lift her from the water. Her body dripped with suds as I pushed the towel around her body, leaning her into my chest. She balanced herself using me and the wall as I lifted her into my arms. Her warmth, her freshly cleaned scent, and the feel of her heart beating against my chest had my emotions flying to places they’d never been, places I never thought they could go.

  I didn’t want to put her down, but I knew she’d become leery if I just carried her in my arms until the storm ended. I carefully placed her on the couch, and then stepped back to admire her with a smile. “I’ll find you some clean clothes,” I offered, leaving her on the couch to continue drying herself.

  I pulled out the smallest pair of sweat pants and matching sweat shirt I could find, along with some warm socks. She slipped the sweatshirt over her head without my help, refusing to put back on the bra. “That thing was a death trap. I have no idea how you got it loose so easily,” she chuckled.

  I offered up a proud smirk, carrying on the bluff that I was some sort of love master. I was far from it. Women terrified the hell out of me. Not that I hadn’t been with women before; I’d been with plenty. Sex wasn’t so scary—it was everything else. What came after sex…that was what scared me about women.

  “Let me help you,” I chimed in, kneeling to my knees in front of her as she struggled with the sweat pants.

  Her cheeks were bright red as I gripped her sore ankle carefully and slid the material over her foot. As I moved to her other leg, I caught a quick glimpse of the sweet flesh between her legs. She’d shaved, not entirely, but trimmed rather nicely. Her pink pussy spread open, just enough for the pink to torture my cock as I slid the jogging pants up her legs. I lifted her so she could pull them around her hips, and then let her settle into the couch.

 

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