SEAL'd Lips: A Secret Baby Romance

Home > Other > SEAL'd Lips: A Secret Baby Romance > Page 10
SEAL'd Lips: A Secret Baby Romance Page 10

by Roxeanne Rolling


  He falls down beside me on the bed, and I nuzzle my head towards him. His muscles are thick with sweat. His naked body is magnificent to behold.

  I find myself drifting off to sleep, with Noah’s arm thrown around me, holding me close to him.

  A phone rings. I move sleepily to grab mine, hoping that James is all right and that nothing’s happened.

  But it’s not my phone.

  It’s Noah’s.

  “Hello?” he says, his voice sleepy as well.

  He looks at me and shrugs, indicating he doesn’t know who it is.

  “Tammy?” he says. “Tammy Smith? From high school?”

  My heart leaps with anxiety in my chest.

  Noah’s listening intently to what Tammy’s saying.

  Is she calling to tell him that James is Noah’s son?

  Noah

  The next morning, Hana has to leave early to pick up James from her parents’ house, then drop him off at nursery school, and then get to work. We agree to meet up later that night again, but we don’t make specific plans, since her first priority is obviously James.

  I’m still in bed when she leaves, and she kisses me sleepily before leaving. I watch her walking out the hotel room door, and a sense of sadness fills me.

  Why couldn’t I have always had her in my life? Why did I have to spend so many years alone, fighting, away in foreign lands, trying to do the impossible?

  I’m heavy with sleep but I force myself up. In truth, this is the latest I’ve slept in years. There weren’t any nightmares last night. Could Hana have driven them from me?

  The hotel room coffee maker is just about adequate for my needs. I drink a cup, then head to the hotel gym.

  Meanwhile, I’m thinking about my book, something that hasn’t really occupied my mind for some time.

  I’m supposed to have another book signing in a nearby town two days from now. I figure that it makes the most sense to just stay in this hotel, since I’ve already got it booked. But the real reason, of course, is Hana.

  Last night was incredible. It wasn’t just the sex, it was… something else. There’s a real connection between us. At least I feel one. That’s the thing about these things—you’re always wondering if the other person feels the same way as you. But I think she does. I’ve got a certain sense for these things, and I’m confident, but I’m still only human.

  A well-built blonde won’t stop checking me out in the hotel gym, but I don’t pay any attention to her.

  I’m in the middle of doing a series of pushups on one of the mats when she walks over to me. She stands there, crossing her arms under breasts, apparently in an attempt to make them look bigger, to make them stick up and out more. Any other time, I’d eagerly take her to my bed and show her what I’m capable of. But Hana fills my mind, and the thought of being with someone else is just… somehow disgusting. I’m just not interested at all.

  She sticks her ass out conspicuously and checks herself out in the mirror one final time before speaking to me, trying to break the ice.

  “Didn’t I see you on TV?” she says.

  I just keep doing my pushups, finishing my set before sitting down on the floor and responding.

  “Maybe,” I say. “I have a book out.”

  “Oh that’s right!” she says, as if it’s the most exciting thing in the world. She’s obviously over acting, and her fakeness bothers me.

  I don’t say anything for a minute. I’m not exactly experienced in letting women down like this.

  “Look,” I say. “You seem like an interesting person, but I just started seeing someone.”

  “I…! I…” She huffs and puffs, growing red in the face from embarrassment. “I was just making small talk.”

  I nod my head, and go back to doing pushups.

  When I’ve done the set, she’s gone.

  Back in my hotel room, there’s a missed call from my agent. No message.

  “What’s up, Dan?” I say, calling him back. He picks up on the first ring.

  I’m covered in sweat from working out, so I manage to take off my shirt while on the phone. It’s quite an acrobatic feat.

  Next, I drop my workout shorts and underwear, letting them fall to the floor after I kick off my shoes. I’m buck naked, pacing my hotel room.

  “Bad news, Noah,” says Dan. He’s never one to mince words. He tells it like it is most of the time, which is why I like him as an agent. He’s worked with other military guys, and he tends to know our style. He knows not to spew too much bullshit in our direction. We can always sense bullshit from a mile away.

  It’s something that the military teaches you, I guess. After all, you’ve got to put up with plenty of bullshit in the military, whatever branch you’re in—people on power trips, all sorts of shit.

  “What’s up?” I say.

  “The signing at Bobton’s Books is canceled.”

  “Oh,” I say. “Well, that’s OK, I guess. What happened? I hope nothing’s wrong with the book.”

  “No, nothing like that. Sales are up after your appearance in New York.”

  “So what happened?”

  “The bookstore closed.”

  “Oh,” I say. “Well, that’ll give me some more time around here actually. Connect with old friends.”

  Meanwhile, of course, I’m just thinking of spending more time with Hana.

  “Well, I booked you another gig.”

  “Yeah? Something else out west?”

  “Yup, but this is a big one. Are you ready for the news?”

  “What?”

  “It’s big news. I don’t want you to faint or anything.”

  I laugh. “Don’t worry,” I say. “I can take a bit of a surprise. What’s the news? You’re killing me with this agent-suspense thing. Is this how all agents are?”

  “We try to break good news in the biggest way possible.”

  “Just tell me what it is.”

  “All right. I got you an appearance on the Bob Show.”

  I’m not surprised at all. In fact, I have no idea what the Bob Show is.

  “The Bob Show? What the hell is that?”

  It’s Dan’s turn to laugh.

  “Damn, you really were away for a long time. It’s only the third biggest late night show that there is.”

  “Sounds like a real hoot,” I say, not excited in the least.

  “It doesn’t sound like you’re getting what I’m saying,” says Dan, almost sounding a little annoyed. “This is a huge opportunity. It’s incredibly hard to get a booking. But they’re interested in your story and they think their viewership would be too. There’s tons of money in this if you go on.”

  “I don’t know,” I say, thinking of Hana. “I’ve got some stuff to do here. I’m not sure I’m ready to take off to LA or wherever it is.”

  “If you don’t do this,” says Dan, “there’s no point in me being your agent. You know how much people fight for spots on this? Do you have any idea how many people watch this show? You have to do this if you want to keep being a writer.”

  He’s got a point. I mean, the sales are good, but they’re not good enough to retire or anything like that. They’re not even necessarily good enough that I can take the next year off to write my next book. It took me my whole four years in the Seals in order to write my first book, painstakingly working on it in whatever spare time I had, which wasn’t much.

  But when I write, I rewrite and then rewrite again. I’m obsessed with getting the words exactly how I want them. I don’t leave a single sentence uncounted when I’m editing.

  I know I’m not going back into the military. I could. They want me back, but it’s not for me. The nightmares I have already are enough for a lifetime. And I don’t know what the hell else I would do. Being a Seal teaches you certain things, but the skills aren’t directly transferable to office jobs or the normal civilian workforce. There isn’t much of a need for fighting or bomb disarmament in the office.

  “Fine,” I say. “I’ll do it
. When did you say it was?”

  “I’ll send you the details. You’ll fly out early next week…”

  Next week. That gives me a few more days with Hana.

  But I can come back. Maybe this is good. I can do the show, increase book sales, and then return here to spend more time with Hana.

  “OK,” I say. “Talk to you later.”

  Dan says goodbye hastily. I can tell he’s a little annoyed that I almost didn’t agree to doing the show.

  Whatever, he can be as annoyed as he wants to be. After all, he works for me. It’s not the other way around. I wouldn’t stand for that. I’m the one who calls the shots. But he makes a good point about doing the show.

  I’m still buck naked, walking up and down my hotel room.

  My cock starts to swell as I think about last night with Hana. She was absolutely incredible. I can picture her body clearly in my mind’s eye.

  My cock is raging hard now.

  I let my hand run across it gently, pretending that it’s Hana’s delicate hand instead of my rough one.

  I’m hungry, with my stomach grumbling for food after my workout. But my cock is a more pressing matter. I’ve always had a high sex drive, and with images of Hana on my mind, there’s no denying my cock what it wants and what it needs, which is release.

  It’s too bad she’s not here. It’s too bad she couldn’t have stayed. I would have gladly given her an even more intense round two.

  There’s some lotion on one of the hotel tables, one of those little sample bottles that hotels like to leave lying around.

  I take some of it and squirt it on my hand and put my hand back on my cock. The action is slippery now. The lotion eases the roughness of my battle-hardened hand. My fist glides across my cock from the thick base to the head, as I stand facing the wall.

  I tense my legs and close my eyes, picturing Hana’s perfect tits and her taut nipples.

  I imagine that she’s kneeling in front of me, her mouth inches away from my cock, her breath hot on it. It’s her hand instead of mine that’s running up and down my cock. She took the liberty of using the lotion, not me.

  Jerking off isn’t nearly half as good as fucking Hana. But at least I can think about her.

  In my imagination, she stands up and embraces me. She wraps her legs around me, bringing her pussy towards my cock. I slide into her with ease, her tight pussy greeting me with hot wetness, a tunnel of pleasure. Her breasts push against my chest, and I hold her against me as I fuck her. Her back is against the wall, but I can hold her up fine myself, and I ram it into her.

  My fist is a blur across my cock. My muscles tighten as my cock twitches and then explodes, shooting thick ropes of my come towards the wall.

  Shit, I’ve got to clean that up.

  I grab some tissues and wipe off the spot on the wall.

  My mind turns to Hana and telling her about leaving. I mean, she knows I’m here on a book tour, so I figure she knows that I’ll be leaving soon. But we never spoke about it, or about our future… Maybe I’m jumping the gun a little, already planning ahead. But there’s something real between us.

  But that doesn’t mean I should give up my career.

  I can’t do that, not for anyone.

  Hopefully, it’s a choice I won’t have to make.

  My phone beeps at me, revealing I’ve got a text message.

  I expect it to be Hana, but it’s Tammy, an old girlfriend from high school that I talked to last night briefly on the phone.

  “We still on for this afternoon?” reads the text message.

  “Yeah,” I say. “But I can’t spend too long. I’ve got to meet someone…”

  I don’t have any intention of spending much time with Tammy. I’m not interested in her at all. I just want to meet her out of politeness, and in the interest of keeping up with old friends.

  “Good,” she writes. “I’ve got some big news for you. Something really important.”

  Something really important? What the hell could that be?

  Hana

  Most of the work day goes by without a hitch. The boss doesn’t bother me at all today. I guess I really put him in his place yesterday, and now he’s probably scared to say anything to me. That’s fine. I do good work, and I know it. And I’m not going to have this job forever. I’m going to move on to bigger and better things. What I’d really like to do is open up my own company.

  My thoughts keep drifting back to last night. It was completely incredible.

  And it wasn’t just the sex.

  And that’s really saying something, because the sex was insanely great.

  I can’t believe it’s been so long since I had sex last. I’d almost forgotten what it was like. A woman shouldn’t have to go through that.

  Have sex one time, get pregnant, and then go years without it. That’s insane, right?

  But I wouldn’t give up James for anything. I’m glad it happened this way.

  Maybe it was all sort of meant to be, in a way. Maybe I’m meant to reconnect with Noah now that we’re both older. Maybe there’s really something between us that could develop and turn into something great.

  The only roadblock I can see right now is that I still haven’t told him about James.

  Well, that, and the fact that Noah isn’t here permanently. I need to talk to him about that as soon as possible, and figure out what his long term plans are. As far as I understand, he doesn’t even have an apartment. He had something temporary before getting on this book tour. He’s headed out west after this, but he has at least a week or two here, as far as I know. It’s not totally clear. We haven’t talked about it much.

  Maybe tonight’s the night to tell him about James, and to make more plans.

  I’m a person who does better when things are concrete, already laid out.

  My phone rings.

  “Hey, Leah,” I say. “I’m at work now so I can’t talk that long.”

  “Listen,” says Leah, in a hushed voice, sounding frantic. “Remember what I told you about Tammy?”

  “Yeah…”

  “Well, I just saw her at the Onion…”

  “The Onion? The coffee shop by the train station?”

  “Yeah,” she says. “She didn’t see me… But I heard her telling the girl behind the counter who works there… the barista or whatever she’s called… that she was meeting Noah Strong. She was bragging, and saying that she was going to get him back, after all these years, because she was going to tell him some really big news.”

  My heart leaps in my chest. I gulp. Suddenly, I feel sick.

  I’ve somehow managed to push the worry about Tammy from my mind, even though she called Noah last night and it sounded like they were going to meet up. Noah didn’t sound enthusiastic about the meeting, and told me he probably wouldn’t meet her. I figured Tammy was just making empty threats, or that Noah wouldn’t bother to see her again.

  But now, it’s time to meet my worst fears. Tammy’s going to tell him, and it’s going to be terrible. I simply can’t let Tammy tell him about James. I just can’t.

  Despite the seriousness of the situation, and the horrible sick feeling all over my body, there’s something strange about what Leah’s telling me.

  “Wait, Leah,” I say. “What were you doing at the Onion? I thought you swore never to go back to that place, after they charged you $8 for a coffee or something…”

  I have a strong feeling there’s a good story behind this. I shouldn’t be wasting time asking about it. But apparently I’ll do anything to mentally avoid actually confronting what I need to do, which is rush to Noah and meet him before he can meet Tammy and learn the truth.

  “I was… OK, I was hooking up with someone in the bathroom… The wall is thin and I could hear everything.”

  I laugh.

  “I know you like to distract yourself from big problems sometimes,” says Leah frantically. “But you need to go now. Right now. To the Onion. Leave work.”

  “You’re right,”
I say, suddenly hanging up the phone.

  I grab my purse without switching off my computer.

  Without saying a word to anyone, I rush out of the building. I get in my car, start the engine, and start speeding towards the Onion.

  It’s not far away, but it’s a good ten minute drive through town to where the train station is.

  I haven’t been to the Onion in years. It’s been there since I was a kid, but it’s changed names in as many years as it’s been in existence.

  I try to work out what I’m going to say to Noah. How am I going to tell him? What kind of excuse am I going to give?

  The truth is, I have absolutely no idea.

  My mind just draws a complete blank.

  OK, I’ll just have to figure that out once I get there.

  But what if he’s already talking to Tammy? I’m sure it’s going to take her a little while to get to the point. After all, if I remember her well, she’s a huge chatterbox, never shutting up. She’s a huge gossip and loves to talk about herself as well.

  How am I going to interrupt them and get Noah out of there and away from her?

  I’m so anxious about this whole thing that my mind simply draws another blank.

  Well, I’ll just have to figure that out once I’m there.

  Finally, after what feels like an eternity, I pull up in the parking lot.

  To my horror, I recognize Noah’s rental car there, a big black SUV.

  I look through the window, and he’s sitting with Tammy. Tammy looks a lot older, but still fit. She still has that classic cheerleader look she had in high school, with dyed blonde hair and a lot of makeup. She’s wearing a low cut blouse that exposes quite a bit of her large breasts.

  She doesn’t see me. She’s too absorbed in staring at Noah.

  Noah’s back is to me.

  OK, I’ve got to at least try.

  If I go in, and she’s already told Noah, I’m sure to know about it based on his expression.

  Without a single plan in my head, I open the door and walk in.

  “Oh, Noah!” I say, pretending as best as I can to be surprised.

 

‹ Prev