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Nashville SEAL: Jameson: Nashville SEALs

Page 4

by Sharon Hamilton


  She fell into a light sleep, the rise and fall of his chest lulling her to sleep.

  What could be better? Lying in a tub with the man I love and only a night filled with love ahead of us? More champagne, an intimate dinner, perhaps naked by the fireplace? Some wonderful red claret or port and a nibble on cheese and fruit before turning in? I have truly died and gone to Heaven, she thought as she drifted off.

  She awoke when Jameson began pouring the warm scented water at her neck, while gently massaging the lavender scrub over her chest, careful to slowly wash every millimeter of her pink skin beneath his powerful hands. She raised her chin as his long fingers descended lower and found her nub, squeezing the petals of her sex, and then rimming her opening, coaxing in her the electric buzz down her spine that set everything pulsing. Just looking at him turned her on, but the feel of his nimble fingers and powerful low rumble in his chest when he liked something he was touching, was even better.

  “I wish we could stay here forever, Jameson.”

  “Mmm. Me too, my love.”

  “Not just in this tub, but I like it here. I like San Diego, but nothing has touched me like North Carolina until I came here. This is truly heaven itself.”

  “I know what you mean. We’d still have our southern roots, but I think I could manage it out here. Of course, I’d have to be something other than a soldier.”

  “A winery owner?”

  “You know, Devon has warned us about this. It’s touch and go for at least seven or eight years. Owning a winery looks better and more glamorous than it is in reality. Lots of work and lots of expenses for years until it starts to pay off.”

  “Except you can’t buy one already set up, Jameson, or at least one you could afford. So, we’re young. All you guys are young. You already work hard now and don’t get paid nearly what you’re worth.”

  He quickly washed off the scrub and then turned her face to kiss the side of her mouth. “I’m going to have to do something with those lips. You talk too much, sweetheart.”

  She giggled, and she heard his low guttural groan. She could feel his erection pressing into the small of her back. She leaned forward, pivoted on her butt and faced him in the tub, placing her calves up over his shoulders.

  “I talk too much? Really?”

  “You do,” he said as he looked for and found her opening. He brought himself to crouching position. “I’m going to dive for buried treasure, my dear. Try not to scream or we’ll wake the people enjoying the pool below, okay?”

  “Jameson!” But she couldn’t remember what else she was going to say because he’d dipped his whole head under water, his lips and tongue pressing and sucking her sex. She leaned back, raising her hips, and then bracing her body with her arms at the sides of the tub as he continued to plunder her.

  “Now that’s my kind of diving,” he said when he came up for air. His brown hair hung partially over his forehead, shedding lavender bubble foam. She matched his body position, coming to her knees to face him.

  “Seriously, Jameson,” she said as she rubbed the salt scrub on his chest, then lower until his body disappeared into the warm water. He was watching her eyes, not taking his focus from her expression, like drinking after a long drought.

  “Seriously what? What is so serious?” He gave her that blue-eyed smile that tore her heart wide open. All she could think about was having him make love to her all night long. She returned his smile as his forehead pressed against hers. Her fingers found his huge erection under the water. “You seriously have to take care of that, Lizzie. I am in dire need here.”

  She giggled and watched him close his eyes. “Why do you do that when I laugh?”

  “Because, sweetheart, when you laugh like you do, I just get tingly all over, and all I want to do is ram myself inside you and stay there forever.”

  She laughed again.

  “Okay, that does it. I’m not going to take this any longer. He turned her to the wide side of the tub, bent her down and fondled her sex by traveling down her butt cheeks with his fingers. She widened her kneel, holding onto the side of the tub as he positioned his penis at her opening. “This,” he said as he plunged in to the hilt, making her gasp, “Is for even daring to think about anything but sex tonight. How dare you…” He began pumping furiously, angling to gain traction. She looked over her shoulder, seeing his position, and turning to give him better access. He gripped her hips. She slid her legs outside his, raising her tailbone and felt his powerful body pull her down against him, his arms wrapped around her waist and upper chest, his hot lips kissing up her neck and biting her ear lobe, which made her jump.

  “I’ve never made love under water before,” she whispered, turning her head to note his expression from the corner of her eye. He was watching her backside, licking his lips as he watched himself push into her, lift her, feel her muscles that had now begun to clamp down on him.

  “Honey, you’ve married a SEAL, and we do everything under water.” He grinned back at her and then was distracted as he began to come.

  After several minutes, their rhythm slowed, and, still connected, he whispered, “I want to make another Charlotte. We talked about waiting. Honey, I want to make another baby with you.”

  She’d been thinking the same thing. “Probably not going to happen until I get off the pill.”

  “We’ll flush them down the toilet tonight. No protection. No barriers. I want to fill you with everything I’ve got.”

  She continued her up and down movement as he pressed. “Jameson,” she said between breaths. His hands were roaming across her chest again, fingers pinching and hurting her nipples. “My turn, please.”

  She could tell he needed no coaxing. He was already hard again and focused on the mission at hand. This time, he was totally focused on giving her pleasure.

  She woke up in bed and couldn’t remember how she got there. One arm was over her head laid in the soft down pillow, the other resting at her side. The sheets were tangled around her legs and had pulled back, leaving her chest bare, but the room wasn’t chilly. The sounds of Jameson’s guitar softly played from the dark corner across the room near the fireplace. His handsome face was illuminated by the glow from the fire. She saw his fingers work the steel strings of his acoustic guitar. The tune sounded new, and he struggled slightly with the cords, but perfected it, until it became an emotional melody that literally made her heart flutter.

  She propped herself up with her elbows at her sides. She didn’t bother to cover up her breasts, and Jameson noticed right away, giving her an appreciative and tender smile. He stopped playing to address her.

  “Do you have any idea what a beautiful sight that is, seeing you lying in my bed there by firelight?”

  He was seated in an overstuffed high-backed chair, naked, his legs crossed, balancing the guitar on one thigh. “I could say the same, Jameson. So, you’re working on a new song?”

  “I think so.”

  “Sounds nice. What’s it called?”

  He leaned the guitar against the wall away from the fireplace, and stood, walking slowly to her, his erection ever present. “Loving You Is All I’ll Ever Need.”

  “Sing it to me.” She sat up and extended her arms. He was there in an instant, sliding under the covers, covering her chest with his, which had been warmed by the fireplace.

  “You inspire me to write more music,” he said as his knees parted hers. “I’ve not tried for several months. Since I got my Trident.”

  “Why? You’re so good at it.”

  “Am I? Good at it?” he asked again as he ran his tongue along the top of her shoulder and kissed her tenderly under her jaw. Without using his hands, he angled his hip while she raised her knee and accepted his girth.

  She was feeling tingly all over again. The rush of lust filled every cell in her body, every body part competing for attention and dying to be kissed. She had been up half the night making love to him, and her eyes ached even as her body craved more. The craving was like a t
rue hunger, her hollowness accepting him deep inside her. She pressed her palms to his buttocks as he undulated, grinding deliciously down onto her, putting his palms beneath her rear, holding the sides at her hips so he could ram deeper still. She was dead tired from the exertions of last night but didn’t care one whit. She was completely drunk on his body.

  “Sing it to me, Jameson.”

  “I have no words yet.”

  “Then hum the melody.”

  He kissed and hummed into her ear. Then he whispered, “All I’ll ever need, Lizzie. Loving you is all I’ll ever need.”

  Chapter 6

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  Jameson was grateful for the GPS in Nick’s truck, since he’d never been to the winery site before. Healdsburg and the Dry Creek Valley was half an hour from Nick and Devon’s place, and another twenty minutes from the Inn which was closer to Sonoma in Kenwood.

  The brown hills were dotted with dark green oaks in its untouched, natural state, but subdivisions had begun cropping up here and there, even cresting some of the hills close to Santa Rosa. North of Santa Rosa proper they began to see vineyards on both sides of Highway 101, and by the time they got to Healdsburg, it felt like the town was built in the middle of vineyards instead of the other way around. Once known for apples, pears and hops for the brewing houses in San Francisco, the Dry Creek Valley had some of the world’s best soil. An old train spur led to the Petaluma River, carrying lumber and hops to waiting cargo barges headed to the City.

  The GPS directed him to take the third Healdsburg exit and then guided him along a winding frontage road that crisscrossed under the freeway several times. Directional signs to various wineries in the area, over a dozen at every fork or crossroads, made Jameson realize they were within miles of some fifty wineries at least. Most were names he’d never noticed before.

  “You have arrived at your destination,” said the Italian GPS woman in heavily accented English. A small wooden sign announced the name Santos and the address.

  The driveway was full of potholes which were no problem for the Hummer. In fact, Jameson rather liked the fact that Lizzie’s chest was bouncing in a very tantalizing way. Her lavender tee shirt was snug, just the way he liked it, her pert nipples showing through something sexy underneath.

  You’ve got it bad.

  He knew it was part chemistry, part deep love for this woman. The love would take him over the pitfalls in their coming life together, but right now the chemistry had him so distracted he nearly ran off the road.

  She snuck a dangerous sultry peek at him, her lips upturned on one side. She was getting some ideas, and he wished he could read her dirty mind.

  “You’re dangerous this morning.”

  “Hungry.” She licked her lips.

  “I like you hungry. I’m thinking if you don’t stop with the come-fuck-me attitude we won’t get to the winery in time. That makes two in two days.” He followed it up by wiggling his eyebrows up and down, then giving her a wink.

  Jameson was seriously having issues with his tight jeans and gripped the steering wheel harder. His focus was laser-like. She lifted the tee shirt, revealing a colorful satin bra that was doing double time keeping her ample chest contained.

  “Dayam! Miss Lizzie—”

  She cupped his mouth and swung over his thigh. “That’s Mrs. Lizzie to you, Cowboy, seeing as you had a pretty good time with all my working parts.”

  He slammed on the brakes just in time to avoid hitting a large tree just before she squeezed his cheeks with her palms and shot her tongue halfway down his throat.

  Oh God! Here comes another payday!

  Between kisses and her incessant need to rub over his button fly a little rough, the rocking of her hips as if he was already inside her, the moans she was giving off that made his entire body stand up for attention like his dick was, he tried to talk. “Yup. I did a pretty good job of fucking you up last night.”

  “All night.”

  “Yes, ma’am. And you loved every minute of it.”

  “I did. I’m hungry for more.”

  “I can tell, darlin’.”

  “Jameson, how are we going to ever get anything done? We can’t keep doing this,” she said as she got him unbuttoned and reached in, which made him gasp.

  “God, I thought your hands would be hot. They’re ice cold.”

  “I can warm you up.”

  “Sweetheart, what if someone comes by?”

  “You should be paying attention only to me. I got everything you need to see.”

  “No question about that, darlin’, but this is our friend’s property, or soon to be.”

  “You told me last night I was talking too much. Would you please shut up and fuck me, Jameson.”

  “You are something else, Lizzie.”

  “You married me. You get to fuck me all you want now. And the more you do, the more I’ll want.”

  “I think I’ve unleashed a monster.”

  “No, you have a monster right here,” she said as she whipped his cock out, slid down under the steering wheel, leaned forward on his lap, and devoured him. She sucked. Hard. “God, Jameson, I like you’re swollen, like I am from all this activity.”

  He chuckled as he felt the vibrations from her words on his dick. She wasn’t dainty or soft about her working on him. He briefly searched the windows of the Hummer to make sure no one else could hear all her delicious slurping. The turning vines sat stoically, their deep purple bunches of grapes hung like—

  What the fuck is happening to me?

  There was no sense fighting it. He was a horny old toad and it was getting worse, not better. He was so happy his deployment didn’t happen for another month. They were due for desert training in Nevada without the wives. Maybe that would be a blessing. It would take a month to just get the taste of her sweet pussy off his tongue, no matter how much he drank. Everything he owned smelled of her already.

  Her blonde hair lay all over his lap as he laced through it with his fingers, wondering at the spun gold shining in the morning sun. He tried to reach her breasts but the steering wheel was in the way. He leaned to the side, and smoothed a palm over her ass encrusted in her khaki pants. His fingers couldn’t do anything but trace the cleft seam, though he tried sliding to her front but her waistband was tight and impenetrable.

  His stiffness was still painful, even thought her expert tongue worked on him. He was ready for release any second now.

  Suddenly, she pulled away, scampered under the dash and dropped her drawers, panties and all. She scurried to her side of the bench seat and presented her ass to him, leaned forward and spread her cheeks.

  His mouth watered something fierce, but he didn’t have time for that or he’d wind up in a puddle of his own cum. He finished pushing his jeans down over his hips and got himself positioned at her opening and thrust inside just in time for the satisfying pulsing of his ejaculation. “S-sorry, Lizzie.” He pushed further to make sure he gave her what little he had left.

  She began bouncing on him, then holding herself down. For a minute he thought she was trying to get him to go for round 2, but he knew after last night he was spent. He needed time to replenish and he was also in desperate need of a nap.

  She ended the self-massage to her butt cheeks and found his thighs, shifting her weight over one leg but being careful to stay connected.

  He had a sudden wonder where she’d learned all this. This Lizzie was far from the easy little blonde waif he’d first screwed in her daddy’s barn. And, although she probably knew he’d slept with hundreds of women in the intervening years, it was obvious at that time she hadn’t much experience but now certainly did.

  She kept a gentle rock back and forth of her hips as he let his fingers walk up her spine, both hands meeting at her shoulders and neck and gave her a squeeze.

  “Mmm. Thank you, Jameson.”

  “My pleasure. Almost didn’t make it, sweetheart.”

  There was that little tinkling laugh again. If he wasn’t caref
ul, they’d never get to the winery, and it was only a couple of hundred feet down the road.

  With one arm under her waist, he brought her into him as he slid back into her and left her impaled on top of him.

  “You’re chicken to drive up to the winery like this.”

  “Yes. I. Am. No doubt about it. Besides, your tiny waist isn’t tiny enough to fit between my stomach and the steering wheel.”

  “We could try.”

  “Lizzie, then I’d get out of the truck, my dick hanging and you pants-less and that would go over real big. So sorry, sweet cheeks—and, God, you have a fine ass!” He cupped the sides of her cheeks as she continued to rock back and forth. He felt he was staging a come back but wasn’t going to allow it since they were already nearly a half hour late. “Like I was sayin’ all good things must come to an end. Not a permanent end, mind you,” he said as his fingers found her front and rubbed her clit in circular motion, “But just an end for now.”

  “I didn’t come, Jameson.”

  “Hold that thought.” He bit the back of her neck, and she melted back against his chest. “You’re voracious.” He wanted to ask her if she’d taken sex classes, or been with some really experienced guy, and all that wasn’t what he wanted to hear, so he kept his mouth shut. “Is your little thing sore yet?”

  “Um hum,” she whispered, leaning back further, spreading her knees, which caused him to draw his knees together. She made the best toggle switch on his cock that ever was. It was a thought he’d never had before, and now he’d think about that every time he saw one until the day he died.

  “So, sweetheart, I want you to feel that soreness and that swelling,” he squeezed her nub, attempting to twirl it but not wanting to cause her pain. “I want you to feel it pulsing, and think of what my tongue is gonna do to it when we get back to the Inn.”

 

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