SEAL's Touch: A Dirty Bad Boy Romance (Small Town SEALs Book 3)

by Vivian Wood

  “Fucked your plans, literally?” Cameron suggested, trying to fill in where he couldn’t.

  Smith laughed softly, despite himself. “In a nutshell, yes.”

  Cameron looked down at their joined hands, not speaking for a long moment.

  “So... what do we do now?” she asked, looking up at him again.

  That’s been the question from the get-go, hasn’t it?

  “What I should do is walk away from you right now, before things get messier than they already are,” Smith said truthfully.

  Cameron looked at him for a beat longer before nodding her head mutely. She made to move away, to pull her hand from his, but Smith held fast, refusing to let her go.

  “That’s what I should do,” he continued when her eyes found his once more. “But what I want to do is this.”

  Smith tugged on her hand, yanking her against him as his mouth came down over hers, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. Cameron melted into the kiss, opening her mouth to him so that his tongue could sweep inside it, eliciting a moan from her that had his dick rock hard in an instant.

  God, she made him so fucking hot. The way she gripped his hair when she kissed him was driving him mad with need. His body remembered all too well what it felt like to fuck her, and he wanted to rediscover that feeling, now.

  Realizing how exposed they were just standing out here on the sidewalk, Smith walked Cameron back into the relative privacy of an adjacent alleyway, not breaking the kiss until he had her pinned between him and the wall.

  Cameron gasped for breath as he released her mouth in favor of running his tongue up the side of her neck, his teeth nipping playfully at her earlobe, causing her to shudder against him as another moan of pleasure escaped her.

  “I’ve been thinking about doing this from the moment I first saw you tonight,” Smith murmured against her ear, his lips brushing feather light against her skin.

  Cameron’s hands slid over his shoulders and down his back, gripping his ass tightly as she pulled his hips forcefully against hers.

  Smith had to bite back a groan as she grinded herself against him, their bodies fitting together so perfectly, it was as if they were put on this Earth for the sole purpose of fucking each other.

  Smith parted her legs with one of his knees, his lips finding hers again as he kissed her, hard. His hands roamed over her body, indecisive about where to touch her first as they skated over the lace of her dress, before settling on her tits.

  And what gloriously fantastic tits they were. Smith kneaded his palms against them, making a low sound in the back of his throat in appreciation as he felt her nipples harden under his ministrations.

  Smith slipped a hand down between them, hiking up the bottom of her dress so that the form-fitting fabric bunched up to rest on top of her hips, exposing the satin black panties and matching stockings and garters that were hidden beneath.

  Smith pulled away far enough so that he could look down between them, admiring the view.

  “Fucking Christ,” he breathed as he took it all in.

  He would never get tired of seeing her like this. The fucking stockings were a big weakness for him, something he suspected she knew, but he didn’t bloody well care anymore at this point. Not if it meant that he was the only one who got to see them.

  He reached out again, running a finger along the edge of her garter belt where it met the sensitive skin of her lower abdomen. Her stomach flexed as she sucked in a surprised breath at his touch, which only excited him further.

  Smith’s wayward finger didn’t stop there. He trailed it down further still, letting it glide over the smooth satin of her panties, finally finding its way home between the junction of her thighs.

  “Fuck,” he growled in satisfaction when he found the pool of heat waiting for him there, her panties soaked clean through with the evidence of her arousal.

  He kissed her again with a bruising force as he began to massage her through the damp fabric.

  They broke away from each other’s mouths soon after that, both of their breathing ragged and harsh with the depth of their shared need for the other’s touch.

  “Oh, fuck yes,” Cameron whimpered as Smith pulled the crotch of her panties aside, sliding his finger directly against her clit.

  The slickness of her pussy made the tightness in his pants grow from uncomfortable to near painful in the span of seconds, his erection throbbing in a soundless plea to be released.

  Patience, Smith chided himself. She cums first.

  With that end goal in mind, Smith redoubled his efforts. Soon enough, the sound of Cameron’s panting breaths in his ear were keeping time with the rhythm he was setting for her with his hand.

  “Oh, god,” she moaned as her knees began to shake slightly. “Oh, god. I’m going to cum.”

  Smith easily supported her weight as her legs gave out from beneath her when her entire body began to tremble. She cried out wordlessly as her orgasm overtook her, her hands clenched tightly around the fabric of his suit jacket. Smith rode it out with her, his fingers working her clit until the last waves of ecstasy rippled through her.

  He kissed her then, tenderly exploring her mouth as he cradled her between the wall and his chest. He slowly reached into his pocket to retrieve a condom from his wallet.

  But when he pulled back from the kiss so that he could rip open the foil packet, Cameron stopped him by placing a hand over his.

  Smith looked up at her, eyebrows raised in question, but she just shook her head, not meeting his eyes.

  “We shouldn’t,” she said softly, straightening up so she could pull her dress back down over the tops of her stockings. “We’ve already gone too far as it is. You might regret this later if we do it now.”

  “I highly doubt that,” Smith scoffed, though he felt little humor in the situation. His dick was so hard, he feared it would sooner burst through his pants than be contained by them for much longer.

  But Cameron remained adamant in her decision. She shook her head again, giving him a half-smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  “No. Our jobs are important to both of us. I can’t jeopardize mine any more than I already have, and neither can you. We both need time to think this through before we take it any further.”

  She leaned forward to give him a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth. Smith just closed his eyes, unable to make himself move or speak in an attempt to convince her to change her mind.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered as she stepped away from him.

  By the time he opened his eyes again, she was gone.

  Alone in the alleyway, Smith was left to wonder what Cameron cared about more: him, or her job?

  He wasn’t sure he’d like her answer, either way.

  11

  Cam walked down a side hall on the tenth floor of the Calloway Building, listening for others’ footsteps. She was deep in the labyrinth of the building’s file storage area, sneaking around the filing rooms. She’d only found out about these rooms two days ago, when she was in the break room.

  One of the secretaries had argued with another over where some old paperwork might be. The first secretary had said that they could find the file location via the computer network, that every file was tagged with its real life location.

  Cam had rushed back to her desk and looked. Lo and behold, she opened the network and clicked around until she found thousands of file names. With a little searching, she found what she most wanted to look at was on the tenth floor, in an obscure file room.

  She had the number of the room written on a Post-it, for reference. She looked at the numbers on the doors, counting them until she reached number thirty-two.

  She stopped in front of the door, looking both directions before trying the door knob. The door opened with ease, and she stepped inside the room.

  She closed the door behind herself, and eyed the towering file cabinets that dominated the room. Tucking a strand of fiery hair behind her ear, she looked at the closest one.
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  Financial Disclosures, April 2013. The next was Financial Disclosures, March 2013.

  She frowned and moved to the right.

  The cabinet to her right was labeled: Financial Disclosures — Terrence Culley. Now she was getting somewhere.

  Financial Disclosures — Spencer Calloway ended up being tucked in the farthest corner, way in the back, but she found it well enough. She pulled open the main drawer and saw paperwork organized by date.

  She pulled the most recent one, dated last week. To her surprise, the sheaf of paper was uncreased, perfectly smooth. Her brow furrowed. She put that back and looked at the weeks before.

  All uncreased. She realized that perhaps this room was filled with copies of documents, which would therefore look untouched. She flipped to the end of the document and saw that it had been signed by Spencer Calloway. She ran her fingertips over the signature, feeling the way the pen had bit into the paper.

  She closed the drawer and moved to the next cabinet over. Financial Disclosures — Smith Calloway, it said. She opened the most obvious drawer, and pulled the most recent sheaf of papers.

  Smith’s copy of the financial paperwork was the opposite of his father’s. The papers were dogeared and notes filled the margins, spilling over into the printed words. When she pulled the prior week’s report, she found it in the same condition, plus marked with coffee cup rings.

  She put the files back and checked another employee’s files, an accountant named Dinah Troy. She found the same thing in Dinah’s paperwork, lots of hand-scrawled notes in the margins.

  She put Dinah’s files away, her forehead creasing. Spencer’s reports not seeming read was awfully little evidence of wrongdoing, but it was the first hint of impropriety she’d witnessed.

  Did that mean she should take it and run with it? She wasn’t sure. Maybe she’d talk to Erika about it.

  Deciding that was enough snooping for now, she let herself out of the room, hurrying down the hall. She put her head down and turned a corner, barreling right into Spencer Calloway.

  “Oh!” she gasped as she righted herself. “Sorry, sorry.”

  She turned beet red as she came face to face with the man she had reason to believe was hiding money.

  “Miss Turner,” he said, brushing off his immaculate dark suit. “What are you doing down here?”

  She could ask him the same question. “Err… looking for a file.”

  “Executive assistants have no reason to be down here,” Spencer said. “Anything you need can be brought up to you. You just email Stacey, who’s in charge down here. Unless you wanted a file but you didn’t want to send an email asking for it, that is.”

  Her brows shot up. He wasn’t wrong, but he was paranoid.

  “I—”

  Smith came around the corner just then, saving her from having to justify herself.

  “Hey,” Smith said to Cameron and his father. “Is this the hip new spot for workplace meetings?”

  “I found your girl down here. She says she was trying to find a file,” Spencer said, looking disdainfully at Cameron.

  An awkward moment passed before Smith jumped in.

  “Oh, yeah. She’s doing some digging for me,” Smith said. “Figuring out who’s who in the corporate ladder. I’m embarrassed to say I don’t know any of the middle managers’ names.”

  Spencer’s brows rose, but he said nothing more about it.

  “I’m on my way to copy some documents,” Spencer said. “I’ll see you later.”

  His reason for being on this floor was just as bad as anything Cam would have come up with, but she stayed silent. Smith waited until they’d moved well out of his father’s hearing before he said anything to Cameron.

  “Well?” he demanded. “I’m on this floor for a meeting. What’s your excuse?”

  “I’m just trying to learn more about the business,” she said as they continued down the hall. “Not that much different than what you told your father.”

  They passed a small office on the way to the elevators. Cam only got a brief look, but the woman in the office had enormous silicone breasts and perfect, skinny thighs. The outfit she wore looked like something a porn star would wear in an office sex scene.

  “Who was that?” she asked, pointing back toward the office. “Since I’m trying to learn everyone’s names, you know.”

  “That’s Stacey,” Smith said. “She’s one of my father’s personal favorites.”

  The elevator door opened, and they got in.

  “Ah. Got it,” she said.

  Smith looked at his watch. “I’ve got another meeting on the fourth floor. Do you mind riding the elevator down there first, then taking it up to the twenty-first?”

  She smiled, pressing the button for the fourth floor. “No problem.”

  He straightened his tie, seemingly lost in thought. His dark hair and dark suit looked impressive on his large frame, perfectly in sync. He was sexy as hell like this, yet Cam could easily see the man underneath, the one dressed in punk rock gear.

  Somehow, he was both. He struggled with it, if you looked closely, but still managed to pull it off.

  They reached the fourth floor, the elevator dinging as the doors opened. Smith gave her a distracted nod and left. The doors closed on him.

  She reached out and pressed the button, sighing. She pulled out her phone and started typing. Getting off the elevators, she walked back to her desk and wrote a long text message to Erika, updating her on the questionable evidence she’d found.

  Cam made it back to her desk and sat down, reading her text again. She bit her lip, her thumb hovering over the send button.

  She thought of Smith in the elevator, how handsome he’d been. If she really found something here, something newsworthy, would she still be able to see Smith?

  She thought of the look on his face if he found out she’d been lying all along. It was heartbreaking.

  On the other hand, she’d already been lying to him for a month. If she backed out now, she wouldn’t get the scoop. Plus she had no idea if she and Smith were even a thing. More than likely, the tension between them would fizzle and she’d be left with nothing.

  Taking a deep breath, she pressed the send button. Career came before relationships, especially when she didn’t know if the relationship was real.

  Exhaling, she turned to look out the window, wishing she could see the future the way she could see the skyline.

  12

  “You still haven’t told me where we're going,” Cam said, eyeing Smith as he drove north. They were driving through mountainous terrain now, the road a definite incline.

  “No, I haven’t,” he said, looking in the Range Rover’s rearview mirror.

  “Are you going to?”

  “No.” His lips curved upward.

  She saw him glance at her clothing, and she ran her hands nervously over her short red wrap dress. “What?”

  “Nothing. Did you bring the clothes I told you to bring?”

  “Yep,” she said.

  She frowned and pulled her backpack out of the back seat. She pulled out a pair of running shoes, along with a black t-shirt, black leggings, a pink hoodie, and socks. He’d refused to specify what they were doing, other than the fact that it would be athletic and the gear would be provided.

  Of course, she showed up today and he was wearing his usual black hoodie and black jeans. He was, however, wearing a pair of black sneakers and black socks instead of his usual Doc Martens.

  “You might want to change before we get there. Everyone else will already be dressed and ready to go.”

  “Everyone else?” she asked.

  He smirked, flashing that killer dimple, but kept his eyes on the road.

  “So I’m supposed to change in the car?” she asked.

  “Unless you can think of somewhere else that’s between here and our destination, which is about ten miles away.”

  She sighed and laid the passenger seat back, changing clothes as quickly as possibl
e. She pulled the leggings on first, then pulled the t-shirt on, taking her dress off under the shirt.

  “I love how women do that,” he said, amused.

  “What?”

  “Change without showing any skin. It’s not something men are taught, I suppose.”

  “We’ve had to learn to adapt.”

  He just smiled and kept driving. She shoved everything in her backpack and put it in the back seat.

  They came around a curve and turned off the two-lane road at a spot marked with red balloons. They drove down a gravel road until it simply ended at a spot with a dozen other fancy cars there. Mostly Range Rovers, but a few yellow Maseratis and red Porsches were scattered in the mix.

  Cameron spotted James closing the back of his Range Rover as they parked. She waved as they pulled in, and James trotted over.

  “Oi! You finally arrived, eh?” he said as Cameron and Smith climbed from the SUV.

  “Good to see you again, James,” she said, grinning at him.

  James was dressed in an all-black warm-up suit and tennis shoes, looking like he was about to run a race. Well, that or he was a mobster.

  She hadn’t even considered that they might be running a race. She bit her lip, hoping Smith hadn’t invited her to a competitive activity.

  “Hey,” Smith said, bumping fists with James. “Is everything ready?”

  “Just waiting for you to start.”

  “Alright. Let’s go introduce Cameron to today’s challenge,” he said, giving Cameron a wink.

  “I really need to start asking more questions,” she muttered as James led them to the group.

  They came to a broad clearing, with a ton of people hanging out. Thomas and Charlie were there, greeting her with enthusiastic hugs.

  “I can’t believe Smith got you to do this,” Charlie said.

  “Actually, he refused to say what exactly this is,” Cam said.

  “Ah. Smart man, that one is.”

  “I can’t believe Mr. Bachelor invited a girl along,” Thomas said, shaking his head.

  Cam scanned the crowd. “There are a couple of girls here.”