“I’m Jen,” she said, her warm blue eyes sweeping over Mia. “Texas has told us a lot about you.”
“Texas?” Mia echoed.
Jen grinned. “Jackson didn’t tell you about his nickname?”
“You guys call him Texas? You realize that’s the least original nickname on the planet, right?”
“Hey, don’t blame me.” Jen tossed her long golden hair over her shoulder. “Smartass Seth is the one who came up with it. C’mon, sit over here with Miranda and me. We’re way more fun.”
Laughing, Mia followed Jen down the aisle. A moment later she was sandwiched between the two women while the men and the Masterson twins congregated at the end of the row.
Since Mia didn’t have many female friends—or friends, period, for that matter—she felt slightly ill at ease surrounded by so many new faces, but she quickly discovered that Miranda and Jen were the coolest people on the planet. They were both so friendly and laidback, their easy laughter and hilarious remarks making Mia feel like a real part of their group and not just some random interloper.
When the Warriors took the field, she pointed Danny out to everyone, which led to a conversation with Miranda about single parenthood. It turned out the other woman knew all about raising kids alone—she’d been a single mom to her twins before marrying Seth, and she confessed that having a partner to help out had made her life a million times easier.
“And surprisingly, Seth is a great dad,” she told Mia in a low voice. “It took him a while to warm up to the twins, but now he absolutely adores them.”
“It still boggles my mind,” Jen admitted wryly. “I never imagined Seth could be daddy material.”
The conversation shifted to their jobs next, and when Mia learned that Jen was a freelance photographer, she couldn’t hide her surprise.
“Are you sure it’s not the other way around? Shouldn’t you be in front of the camera?” she asked the breathtaking blonde.
Jen rolled her eyes. “No thank you. I don’t like being the center of attention.”
Mia had to laugh, because at the moment, Jen was most certainly the center of attention. Every male in their vicinity was checking her out, same way every female in their midst was ogling the SEALs.
Miranda noticed all the stares and gave a dry laugh. “Jeez, you’d think they’ve never seen four smoking-hot military men before.”
“What are you three whispering about over there?” Dylan demanded from down the row.
The three women exchanged grins.
“Nothing,” Jen called back. “Just watch the game and pretend we’re not here.”
“Impossible,” Cash told her. “I always know exactly where you are.”
“Yeah?” his girlfriend challenged.
“Oh yeah.” He smiled broadly. “Your presence is like a shining beacon of light, sweetheart.”
A faint blush stained Jen’s cheeks. “Ah, my sweet-talking man. Gotta love him.”
Mia smiled and moved her gaze back to the field, where Danny and his teammates were on their own twenty-yard line, getting into position after the kickoff. The whistle blew, the play clock started, and then they were off. The first snap resulted in Danny handing the ball off to the running back, who charged into a wall of defensive linemen and managed to eke out three yards, seven short of a first down. The next play was another running one, with the same kid finding a hole in the defense, cutting hard to the left, and rushing twenty-two yards before he was finally brought down.
“That kid can run!” Dylan whooped in delight.
“That’s my son!” came a loud baritone voice.
Mia twisted her head and grinned at the bulky African-American man in the row behind them.
“You should be proud,” Dylan informed the happy father. “He’s damn fast.”
The man beamed. “And he’s only a sophomore! What do you think of that?”
As Dylan launched into an animated exchange with the older man, Jen sighed and turned to Mia. “I swear, he makes friends wherever he goes. I think Dylan might actually be the most charming person on the planet.”
Mia dropped her voice to a whisper. “What’s his deal, by the way? Earlier he said something about his ‘partners’ being out of town. As in, more than one?”
That got her simultaneous laughs from Jen and Miranda.
“He has a girlfriend named Claire,” Miranda said.
“Oh, okay, so I must have misheard him when he—”
“And a boyfriend named Aidan,” Jen finished.
Mia blinked. “What?”
“The three of them live together,” Miranda explained. “They’re a permanent threesome.”
“Oh. I see.” She shook her head a couple of times. “No, wait, I don’t see. So he lives with two people and they’re okay with sharing him?”
Jen hooted. “They all share.”
“They’re in love. All three of them,” Miranda added.
“Oh.”
Clearly Mia was not as worldly as she’d thought, because she was having a tough time wrapping her head around it. She’d never known anyone who was involved in an actual polyamorous relationship. She wasn’t sure how that would even work.
“Don’t worry, you’ll meet Claire and Aidan when they get back from LA, and then you’ll understand what we’re talking about,” Jen said with another grin.
A round of cheers from the crowd jerked Mia’s attention back to the field, just in time to see Danny complete a fifty-five yard pass to a receiver in the end zone, officially putting six points on the home team’s scoreboard.
“Did you see that pass?” Cash exclaimed.
Pride flooded her chest as Cash fixed his deep blue eyes on her. “Your brother has a ridiculous arm, Mia. Jesus. That kid is going places.”
“I hope so,” she said softly.
“Trust me, he is. You can see it in his eyes. He’s got that glint of determination, and the arm to back it up.”
“Listen to him,” Jen advised. “Cash knows his football.”
Mia’s gaze focused on Danny, who looked calm and poised as he wandered over to the bench to receive a hearty pat on the back from his coach. The special teams unit hurried onto the field to kick the extra point, which sailed smoothly between the goal posts, and the score went from 6-0 to 7-0.
The opening touchdown served as a favorable omen for the rest of the game—by the time the final whistle blew, the Warriors had crushed the visiting team, 31-3. Danny and his teammates gathered in a celebratory circle, while Mia jumped to her feet and cheered herself hoarse.
As she hollered her support, she suddenly felt a pair of eyes burning into the side of her face. A slight turn of the head, and her gaze collided with Jackson’s, her breath catching in her throat when she saw his expression. He was staring at her like he wanted to eat her up, whiskey eyes glittering with greedy promise. They hadn’t spoken at all during the game, but she realized now that he’d been completely aware of her the entire time.
Without breaking eye contact, Jackson reached into his pocket and withdrew his phone. His long fingers moved over the screen even as his gaze stayed locked with hers.
A second later, her own phone buzzed.
The message on the screen was very succinct.
Give your brother the OK to chill with his GF so we can be alone. I want your pussy tonight.
As if on cue, a drop of desire dampened her panties. Which was clearly Jackson’s intent, because when she lifted her head, he was smirking at her.
And then, the tease of a man had the gall to lick his lips, revealing the talented tongue that had already given her countless orgasms.
She couldn’t wait to get home.
* * *
Since they’d taken separate cars and Jackson still had to drop Dylan off, Mia reached her apartment first. She sprinted up the stairs and hurried inside, where she promptly removed every last stitch of clothing. Jackson hadn’t told her to, hadn’t demanded a single thing of her when they kissed goodbye in the parking
lot, but she knew he would appreciate her taking the initiative.
She was about to get comfy on the bed when another idea occurred to her. Grinning to herself, she went to the dresser, opened the top drawer and rummaged around for the Victoria’s Secret bag she’d stashed in there more than a year ago. She wasn’t much of a lingerie wearer, but Jackson made her feel so damn sexy she suddenly had the urge to look the part.
She finally found the bag and dumped its indecent contents on the bed. Putting on the black lace merry widow and matching thong was easy. So was rolling the sheer black stockings up her legs. But she spent an obscene amount of time trying to figure out how to hook the tops of the stockings to the straps hanging from the merry widow.
She’d just snapped everything into place when she heard the front door creak open.
No footsteps echoed in the hall. There was no sound at all, in fact, and yet a moment later, Jackson entered the bedroom.
Jeez, the man moved like a ghost. He’d appeared without warning, and his eyes grew heavy-lidded when he noticed her outfit.
But he didn’t comment on it. Didn’t utter a compliment. What he did was cross his arms over his red-and-black plaid shirt and make a tsking noise with his tongue.
“You were a bad girl tonight, sugar. Real bad.”
She blinked in surprise. “I was? Why?”
His gaze rested on her cleavage before returning to her face. “Well, let’s see,” he drawled, ticking off each transgression with his fingers. “One, you didn’t sit next to me at the game. Two, you didn’t say a dang word to me all night. And three, you were checking out Dylan when you thought nobody was lookin’.”
Mia frowned, slightly taken aback. “Are you actually mad about those things?”
“Nah, not at all.” He shot her an evil grin. “I just needed to come up with something to punish you for, and those reasons seemed as good as any.”
Her pulse kicked up a notch. Punish her?
With methodical strides, he crossed the room and sat at the foot of the bed. “You’re gonna do two things for me.”
“Which are?”
“First, you’re gonna unlock that secret drawer of yours and get your nine-inch boyfriend.” He arched a brow, waited, and when she didn’t challenge him, he went on. “And then you’re gonna drape your sweet body over my lap and not speak unless spoken to. Understand?”
Heat engulfed her body. Oh boy. What the hell did he have in store for her tonight?
And why wasn’t she the least bit concerned by it?
Heart pounding, she walked over to the nightstand and grabbed the little silver key from the basket in the top drawer. She sank to her knees to unlock the bottom one, her fingers trembling as she pulled out the bright pink dildo. She’d never shown the sex toy to a man before, but she gave it to Jackson without a single complaint. Willingly. Shivering with anticipation as the toy exchanged hands.
When he patted his jean-clad thighs, she swallowed, tried to bring some moisture to her arid mouth, then climbed onto his lap. He positioned her so that her knees and elbows rested on the bed, while her breasts were crushed against his thighs and her ass jutted out in the air.
Mia was so turned on she could hardly breathe. The lacy fabric of the merry widow scraped her bare breasts and teased her puckered nipples, and her thong was already soaked from her excitement.
“W-what are you going to do?” she murmured.
His sharp voice reprimanded her. “I said no talking, sugar. That’s two extra smacks right there.”
“Smacks?” she couldn’t help but echo.
“And lookey here, that’s three more.”
She craned her head to look at him. “Out of curiosity, how many ‘smacks’ did I start with?”
“Ten.” He smiled pleasantly. “But that question just cost you five more, so we’re at twenty now.”
She gulped.
His hand was warm as he glided it over her bottom and toyed with the dental-floss strap of fabric nestled between her cheeks. His touch was so gentle she relaxed beneath it, but just as the tension left her body, his hand disappeared and then came down to slap her ass.
She jerked. Opened her mouth to protest, but then she remembered the no-talking rule.
His pleased chuckle hung in the air. “That’s a good girl. You’re gonna stay nice and quiet until I say otherwise.”
The second smack connected with only one cheek, the third bringing a sting to the other. Fourth and fifth used more force, no doubt leaving marks on her bare ass.
“What a sweet little bottom you have,” he muttered before smacking it a sixth time.
If someone had told her she would enjoy getting the hell spanked out of her, she would’ve told them they were insane. But here she was, completely at Jackson’s mercy, growing more and more aroused each time his palm connected with her buttocks.
The seventh slap elicited a soft moan from her lips. The eighth had her wiggling her bottom in anticipation for the ninth. Number ten was the hardest yet, slicing the air with a loud thwacking noise and bringing a dull ache to her butt.
Jackson’s mocking voice echoed in the room. “What number are we on? I seem to have forgotten.”
She couldn’t get a word out thanks to the arousal clamped around her throat.
“What number?” he repeated sternly, his free hand tugging on her hair.
“Eleven,” she panted out. “Eleven!”
“Good girl.” He spanked her again, then rubbed away the ache with the light graze of his fingertips. “Now count it out.”
She was gasping for air now. “I…can’t.”
“And why’s that, Mia?”
His palm struck her flesh and she shuddered uncontrollably. “Because I’m so turned on I can’t concentrate!”
“Don’t care. You’re counting it out. Starting now.”
The number “twelve” flew out of her mouth on his next hard stroke.
“Thatta girl.”
Another smack.
Her head started to spin. “Thirteen.”
And another one.
“Fourteen.”
Her ass was on fire. So was her pussy. Every inch of her, in fact, sizzled with overpowering need that had her seeing stars.
In between fifteen and sixteen, Jackson hooked his finger beneath the thin strap of her thong and tugged hard, causing the lacy fabric to tighten over her clit.
Mia moaned as a shockwave surged through her.
On the seventeenth smack, he tore the thong right off her body, muttered something about “replacing it” and skimmed one finger along the crease of her ass.
“Eighteen,” she wheezed, already anticipating—craving—the next one.
But he threw her for a loop—number nineteen was infinitely gentle, swiftly followed by him pushing his finger into her sopping-wet channel.
“Oh God!” Pleasure blasted into her, nearly knocking her out of his lap.
His finger disappeared so quickly she almost broke down in tears.
“I said count, Mia. No other commentary allowed.” He chuckled. “That’s five more.”
Her brain turned to mush. She didn’t know what he was doing to her and she didn’t care. All she knew was that it felt so good. So fucking good.
The erotic assault continued, fierce whacks intermingled with Jackson’s fingers teasing her pussy, stroking her slit, flicking her clit. When they neared the end of the countdown, he shifted on the mattress, and suddenly she felt something cold and foreign probing her entrance.
The dildo. Oh sweet Lord.
He pushed the tip of the sex toy inside her just as his palm stung her ass again. On the second-to-last smack, he wedged the dildo in farther. On the final one, the toy was buried deep inside her.
Mia had no fricking clue why she hadn’t come yet. God knew she was wet enough. Achy enough. She was ready to combust as she lay there draped over him, her ass sticking up in the air like a sacrificial offering.
“Oh, sugar, you should see your bottom rig
ht now. Bright red and so goddamn pretty. Do you want to come, Mia? I think you do, huh?”
She groaned in response.
Jackson slowly pulled out the dildo so only the tip filled her core. He twisted it around a couple of times, his movements utterly indolent, thoughtful even.
A strangled moan ripped out of her throat when Jackson’s finger slid down the crease of her ass, breached the puckered ring of muscle and plunged right through it. He wasted no time driving the sex toy back into her core, fucking her hard with it while he fingered her asshole with the same merciless tempo.
Mia must have blacked out. She didn’t remember climaxing, wasn’t sure how she got on her back, didn’t know how Jackson’s cock had wound up inside her, but her limp muscles and the unbearable pleasure pricking her flesh told her she’d come, and come hard. And then it was happening again, a rush of bliss overtaking her as his muscular body moved over hers.
“Fuck, oh fuck yeah. I’m gonna come,” he grunted as their mouths met in a blistering kiss.
His tongue devoured her mouth, his lips staying locked with hers through his entire orgasm. Mia’s pulse drummed loudly in her ears as the heat of his release soaked her aching channel. His piercing—that goddamn incredible piercing—hit her sweet spot as he shuddered on top of her.
She would never get used to it. The bone-melting pleasure, the intensity, the feeling of pure liberation that consumed her whenever this man had his way with her.
Temporary, her brain reminded her.
Even as she gasped for air and let Jackson roll her over so they were lying side-by-side in a sweaty mess, she was telling herself that this wouldn’t last forever. That she’d be a fool to think it even could.
They would say goodbye eventually. She knew that.
But until that happened…until then…she was going to cling to the way Jackson made her feel, and enjoy every last second of this mind-blowing fling.
9
“So here’s what we’ve got.” Commander Roger Doyle swept his razor-sharp gaze over the group standing before him. “Enemy rebels captured two of our boys who were conducting a reconnaissance mission in North Korean waters. The men are being held in a sub off the west coast, just north of Namp’o in the South Pyongan Province. Sub is also believed to be harboring sensitive data pertaining to US Special Operations, stolen by the rebels during a siege on the American navy base in Yongsan. We’ve got two objectives, boys—rescue the hostages and destroy the sub. Any questions?”
Out of Uniform Box Set: Books 4-6 plus 2 Bonus Novellas Page 69