Bastard SEAL: A Bad Boy Forbidden Baby Romance (Contains bonus book Based!)

by B. B. Hamel

  But then the sun began to rise and we hadn’t slept a wink. I didn’t want to risk falling asleep, not when we had so recently decided we weren’t stopping ourselves anymore.

  I sighed and stretched as the next episode of Friends began to play automatically.

  I hated Friends. But she seemed to like it, and that was good enough for me.

  “I need to get up,” I grumbled.

  She looked at me with those beautiful, wide eyes. “Why?”

  “I have something to do.”

  “Skip it. Forget about PT. You can go tomorrow.”

  I laughed. “I respect your dedication.”

  She snuggled against me and kissed my bare chest. “My dedication to your dick.”

  I grinned. “That’s what I like to hear.”

  “I know.” She bit my nipple.

  I laughed. “Easy there.”

  She smiled up at me. “Sure you have to go?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll be fast, though.”

  She pouted. “Fine.”

  I kissed her quick and then slipped out of bed before I had the chance to change my mind. I went into the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and came back to get dressed.

  “Clean?” she asked me.

  “Clean enough.”

  “Where are you going?”

  I paused. No more secrets, I thought.

  “I’m going to talk to your dad.”

  She looked at me for a second. “Oh.”

  “I’ll be back soon. Promise. And I’ll skip one more day of PT.”

  “Okay. Be careful.”

  “Yeah.” I grabbed my laptop and the thumb drive and walked out into the hall.

  As I walked toward the room Cliff spent his mornings in, I couldn’t help but reflect on how much had changed. Almost no time at all had passed, and yet everything was different.

  The last time we spoke, I had nothing. He had all the cards and there was nothing that I could do.

  I smiled to myself as I pushed the door open and looked in at his piece-of-shit smug face reading the newspaper.

  “Morning, Lincoln,” he said, not bothering to look up.

  “We need to talk,” I said.

  He sighed. “Not this morning. I have a long day ahead of me.”

  I walked in and set my laptop down on the table, flipping the lid open. He watched as I put the password in.

  “I said, I’m not in the mood, Lincoln,” he said more forcefully.

  I smiled at him. “Shut up, Cliff. I have something you need to see.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t talk to me that way.”

  I plugged in the thumb drive, ignoring him, and pulled up the video file. I double clicked and it began to play.

  He looked at it. “I’m not interested in your little bullshit movies.”

  “You’re going to be interested in this one.”

  I tilted the screen toward him and stood back, arms crossed, to enjoy the show. I watched his face, puzzled at first, slowly slip into recognition.

  “What the fuck is this?” he asked.

  “Keep watching.”

  I could hardly contain the joy that tore through me as the color slowly drained from his face. I couldn’t see the screen, but I knew exactly what he was seeing.

  “Recognize that?” I asked.

  “Where did you get this?” he asked quietly.

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  “That isn’t what you think it is.”

  “Actually, it’s exactly what I think it is.”

  He looked up at me. I shut the laptop lid and smiled at him.

  “Have you showed your mother yet?”

  “No, not yet.”

  He leaned back in his chair. “So, what is this? Blackmail?”

  “Something like that.”

  “What the fuck do you want, Lincoln?”

  “I want a few things. First, divorce my mom.”

  He said nothing, just shook his head.

  “Second, back off this documentary thing. You can finish filming it, but no more fucking with me.”

  He was silent for a second. “And?”

  “This last one isn’t exactly a demand. I’m just letting you know up front: I’m in love with your daughter.”

  He was silent for a second, and then he slowly stood up. I gripped my cane tightly and held it up.

  “Don’t give me an excuse, Cliff. I’d love to break your fucking knees.”

  He practically growled. I could see the rage running through him. I wanted him to attack me, wanted it so fucking badly. I didn’t care that he was about my size; I’d break him in two. And I’d have fun doing it. I couldn’t imagine anything better in the world than smashing my cane down on Cliff’s face.

  Instead, slowly, he sat back down. He looked deflated, and for a second I was disappointed.

  “What makes you think I’m going to do any of that?” he asked me.

  “You know why.”

  “Why don’t I send you back to jail, instead? That would keep you away from Aubrie.”

  “Because if you do that, my mom gets this video. And when she divorces your ass, she’ll take everything you fucking have, and then some.” I paused. “Not to mention the press. I’m sure they’d be interested in this.”

  That last part was a total bluff, but I figured his ego was large enough to believe he was worth something to the tabloids.

  “Why haven’t you given it to her yet?”

  “Because I’m not stupid. I’d rather make a bargain with you. Divorce her and at least keep half your assets. Otherwise, she gets this, and you get fucked.”

  He was silent, stewing in his rage, and I watched him. It was such an incredibly perfect moment. For too long he’d had the upper hand in our relationship, always one half step ahead of me. Finally having something to hang over him felt pretty fucking good.

  “Aubrie could never love someone like you,” he said softly.

  “You dumb asshole. You don’t know me and you sure as hell don’t know your daughter.”

  He met my gaze. “I divorce your mom and back off the documentary, and you destroy the video?”

  “That’s the deal.”

  “Fine.”

  “Oh, also, go back to L.A. tonight. Mom likes this house and isn’t going to want you skulking around.”

  “I’ll leave. But you shouldn’t press your luck, Lincoln.”

  I smiled. “No hard feelings, Cliff. It’s just business.”

  “You dumb asshole. Maybe you got away with this one, but I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Sure you are. You’re going back to L.A. to be with whatever B-list slut you’re currently fucking behind my mom’s back.”

  He made a face. “Fuck off now. I’m busy.”

  I stood there a second longer, basking in my victory, and then I gathered my stuff and left.

  I practically ran upstairs. I threw open the door, startling Brie, and crossed the room, dropping the laptop on the ground.

  I gathered her up in my arms and hugged her tight.

  She laughed. “What happened?”

  “You and me? We’re not going to be stepsiblings for too much longer.”

  There was a pause. “For real?”

  “For real. It’s done.”

  “Holy shit!” She kissed me hard.

  “Exactly what I was thinking,” I said once she pulled away.

  She moved out of my arms and lay back on the bed. “Poor Jules though.”

  “Despite her idiot, supermodel exterior, she’s pretty tough. She’ll be fine.”

  “Still. She doesn’t know yet, does she?”

  I shook my head. “Not yet. Cliff will handle that, I’m sure.”

  “I still can’t believe him.”

  “I know. But it’s over now.”

  “What about your parole?”

  “I’ll finish it out here. I don’t have too much longer.”

  “How long?”

  “Four months, give or take.”

>   She blinked. “School starts back up in a few weeks.”

  “I know.”

  “I can’t stay. I have to go back,” she said softly.

  “I wouldn’t let you stay.”

  “But, what about—”

  I pressed myself up against her, cutting her off. “It’s just one semester. We can do one semester apart.”

  “We’ve had years apart already,” she said.

  “Exactly. We have a lot of practice.”

  She laughed and I kissed her softly, biting her lower lip gently.

  “Fine. One semester.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll send you dick pics every day. I wouldn’t want you to forget about it.”

  She giggled. “I don’t think I could forget about it if I tried.”

  “Good. And we’ll set you up with a nice video camera.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yep. We’ll Skype every day.”

  “No way I’m getting naked over the Internet, Lincoln.”

  I laughed. “We’ll see about that.”

  “Seriously. No way.”

  “Give it two weeks without this dick and you’ll be begging to strip down for me.”

  She gasped as I kissed her neck. “You asshole.”

  “What can I say? I’m very persuasive.”

  She looked me in the eye. “It’s really over? We don’t have to worry about my dad sending you to jail?”

  “It’s really over. You’re mine now.”

  She nodded and then kissed me.

  I kissed her back, full and deep.

  She had to leave soon. Only a few weeks to explore every inch of her body, taste every part of her skin. I wasn’t going to waste any time. I’d been away from her for far too long.

  As I lifted her shirt off, I knew that was it.

  I didn’t need anything else, ever again.

  22

  Aubrie

  Charity Event #3

  Months later

  To: aubrie.evans@nd.edu

  From: lincoln@basedcarter.com

  Date: 12/15/2015

  Subject: long distance fuckin

  Brie baby,

  How you doin’? You know I hate that show, but I still have that stupid line stuck in my head. I mean, seriously, it’s like the basis for a failed spinoff and we’re supposed to still think it’s funny? But I guess it is if we’re talking about it.

  I don’t need to say this, but I’ll get it out up front: I miss your sweet ass. Yeah, I know, we Skype and text and talk on the phone all the time, so these emails are pretty pointless, but I like it anyway. Feels old school. Like I’m a soldier writing home from the front. My sore as hell legs sure make it feel like I’m in some shitty war.

  I do have some news that I haven’t gotten to share yet, even though you just texted me. Bacon and eggs for breakfast? Good job.

  The divorce is final. Jules and Cliff are officially splits. That was pretty fast, apparently. Cliff didn’t fight it. Jules wanted it over with. I feel bad about how all that went down, but Mom officially owns the Colorado house and I’m officially under her guardianship until my parole ends.

  Which, as you know, is next fucking week.

  So our parents are done. You know what that means, right?

  We’re no longer stepsiblings.

  We no longer have an illicit relationship.

  Is that fucking weird? Do you still want to fuck me? I have to be honest; most of the appeal was the taboo part. It was wrong, you know? Really fucking dirty. I loved going down on my stepsister right under her dad’s nose. Now that you’re just another girl, I don’t know. Seems like it lost its appeal.

  Just kidding.

  I love going down on you. And the stepsibling thing was more annoying than sexy. Okay, maybe at first it was pretty sexy, but I’m done with that.

  Another text? I didn’t even answer the first one. I had cereal for breakfast.

  I had another dream about you last night. I guess it came from our Skype convo. Your hair was really long, and we were both laying in the backyard here, completely naked. We wrapped ourselves in your hair, it was like Rapunzel length or some shit, and you started going down on me. I kept saying, “The hair will move the hair will move,” but you didn’t care. I stopped caring too as soon as you slipped your wet little pussy down on my cock. We fucked like that in the meadow, surrounded by your hair, like we were in some weird cocoon.

  I woke up with the biggest fucking morning wood ever. But you already know that, considering I sent you like ten pics of it.

  Is that getting to be a little much? Too bad. You need to keep my cock in mind at all times.

  Anyway, can you imagine what a hair cocoon would be like? Probably smell fucking bad. Really terrible. I mean, of course your hair smells amazing.

  But the point is, I can’t wait to see you again. I can’t wait to wrap my arms around you, taste your lips, grab that perfect ass and tits and ravage you. I want to fuck you so rough you can’t walk for a week. I want to tongue your wet little tight pussy for hours, make you ride my face like a slut, make you moan and come. I want to treat your body like my own personal fuck toy. I want to make you come so hard you forget your own fucking name.

  I can’t help myself. These emails always turn dirty. You’re just lodged so far in my skull, and I’m always so god damn hard for you.

  Okay, anyway, I have a surprise for you. I’m not saying what it is, but I promise it’s good. I think you’ll like it at least. And don’t call me after reading this and try guessing for, like, an hour. I’m not going to tell you. But be excited.

  I think I hear Tracey calling me. The torturer beckons. She can wait another minute though.

  Oh, I meant to tell you. I heard from Jess yesterday. Seems she’s doing good, started a new movie with my money. I told her to list me as a producer, she told me to fuck myself. I guess she hasn’t changed.

  I didn’t ask her about the documentary. I mean, we both know it’s done, it’s finished. I wanted to ask what happens in it, what we look like, all that shit. But I guess we’ll find out at the premier. That’s when I’m giving you the surprise, by the way. Or really I’m showing it to you.

  No more hints though.

  Gotta go. Tracey is getting annoyed. I’m seeing you soon, so fucking soon, at this premier. And then who knows?

  Love,

  Lincoln

  I finished reading his most recent email and shut the lid of my laptop, excitement jolting through my body.

  Lincoln. I hadn’t seen him or touched him or smelled him in what felt like forever. Really, it had only been a few months. I hadn’t been able to get back home because I was insanely busy with my new lab job, but we kept in constant touch.

  Things were good. As good as they could be, at least, considering our relationship consisted of emails and texts and calls and Skype.

  I hadn’t really spoken to my dad after everything that went down. We weren’t on bad terms, exactly, but things were weird. It was hard to see him as the same guy I knew after everything that had happened. I didn’t hate him though. He was human and humans messed up all the time.

  Some messed up worse than others though.

  I stood up and looked at myself in the mirror one last time. I had been reading Lincoln’s old emails to help calm my nerves, but I was ready to get going. The pale blue of my dress made my eyes look great, and Jules said it really flattered my figure. She had picked it out.

  Lincoln was already gone when I got back from school. It was a little weird, being in that house, since technically it wasn’t mine anymore. But Jules said it would always be my home, and plus, it had all my stuff in it still.

  Except Lincoln. He had insisted that the first time we saw each other in person had to be at the premier. He said it was poetic or something like that. Really, he just loved to make an entrance. I tried to argue, but he was stubborn.

  I sighed, running my hands down the fabric nervously. I hadn’t seen him in person in so long. What if he
didn’t like what he saw anymore? What if things were weird?

  I shook my head. I shouldn’t let myself worry so much.

  “Aubrie? Are you ready?” I heard Jules yell.

  “Coming!” I called out.

  I grabbed my purse and steeled myself for what was about to happen.

  The theater was huge and gorgeous. It was old, really old, but had been renovated in the past few years. Apparently, they kept as much of the original structure and layout as they possibly could while still updating it.

  All in all, it looked amazing.

  There weren’t a lot of people milling around outside. Lincoln had insisted on keeping the premier small. After my dad backed out of the documentary, Lincoln had bankrolled what was left of it, and Jess used the footage she had already shot. I heard that it was pretty good, but I hadn’t seen it yet. We only had Jess’s word.

  Jules and I pushed open the front door, moving out of the chilly December air and into the heated lobby. Inside, people dressed in gowns and tuxedos moved around. There was a live string quartet playing soft music, and waiters walked around with champagne.

  “Fancy,” I said.

  Jules laughed. “Lincoln always did love a good show.”

  “I can tell.”

  She smiled at me. “I see some people I need to go hit up for donations. Will you be okay?”

  “Have fun.”

  She laughed and walked off to talk to a group of older men. For some inexplicable reason, old men loved Jules. It probably had to do with her classy attitude and the perfect cleavage she was always showing.

  I glanced around, heart beating nervously. I didn’t see him anywhere. A waiter walked by and I grabbed a glass, downing half the drink in one gulp.

  I moved through the crowd, not recognizing anyone. Where was Lincoln? He promise he would see me there, promised that he wouldn’t stand me up. What if he had changed his mind, and the whole thing about meeting at the premier was just an excuse to get away?

  Before I could let myself spiral into a stupid worry fest, someone moved into my line of sight.

  I stared at him. Lincoln Carter, perfect, better than perfect, incredible. He was in even better shape than the last time I saw him in person, if that was even possible. Pictures and videos didn’t do him justice. I couldn’t help but stare.