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

by Vivian Wood

  Erika turned and left the coffee shop. Cam stood and stared at her retreating figure, disbelieving. She didn’t even work for the paper anymore? She balled up her fists.

  It pissed her off royally, but of course it made sense. Erika had set up the one scenario where Cameron couldn’t just back out at the last moment; she literally had to publish, or she would find herself shopping for a new job.

  For a moment Cam thought about just keeping her executive assistant job, but there was a problem with that, too. If Erika whispered a word of Cam’s original employment or if someone dug into her fake background story too much, Smith would find out. Not just that she’d been dishonest about who she was, but that she’d stolen intellectual property from the company… all while sleeping with him.

  Yeah, she was screwed.

  Putting her head down, she hurried out of the cafe. She put her hand in her purse, rooting around until she found the locket. She clutched it in one hand, wishing like hell that it could provide some answers.

  She walked the twelve blocks home with her head in the clouds. By the time she turned the corner onto her block, her feet hurt from the high heels she was wearing.

  When she came up to her stoop, she pulled up short. Smith was sitting on the step, waiting for her.

  “Uh, hey,” she said, feeling frazzled. She dropped the locket into her purse.

  “Hey,” he said, getting to his feet. He held a plastic bag from the grocery store just down the street. “I brought some wine. Thought you might want a quiet night in… with some fantastic fucking sex.”

  He looked so suave standing there, in his dark t-shirt and jeans. He raised the shopping bag, jiggling it so that the bottles clinked together, and raised a questioning brow.

  There was no way in hell she was going to say no to that, even though she knew that every minute she spent with Smith was another nail in her coffin.

  “Come on,” she said, pulling her keys out. “I don’t want the wine to go bad.”

  One side of his mouth kicked up in a smile. As she unlocked the door, she was already thinking of all the delicious and naughty things that his mouth could do.

  She led him into the apartment, putting her purse down and kicking off her heels. He made himself at home, nosing through her kitchen cabinets and finding two red wine glasses.

  She collapsed on the L-shaped couch, watching as he uncorked the bottle and filled the glasses with a little ruby liquid.

  “Here,” he said, offering her a glass as he came to sit beside her.

  “Thanks.”

  She took a sip and watched him do the same. He sprawled on the couch; she thought that it might be the most manly thing about him, how he took up so much space without thinking about it.

  She looked at his deft fingers wrapped around the stem of his wine glass. It made her think of the way that he dug into her skin during sex, gripping her hips or shoulders.

  “What?” he asked.

  “I…” she started, then blushed. “Nothing.”

  “Hmm. Well, what do normal people talk about over wine?” he said.

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  He smiled. “How about… how was your day?”

  She winced, though obviously she couldn’t tell him about her afternoon. “Yuck.”

  He set down his glass, and pulled her bare feet into his lap. He started to massage one, rubbing the instep. It felt so good, she practically melted into the couch.

  “I’m not accustomed to this,” he said. “I’m trying, though. Is it working?”

  “Uh huuuh.”

  She leaned back on the couch cushions, looking at him through half-closed eyes. She wondered how much he knew of his father’s illegal business maneuvers, if anything.

  “Did you ever find out where the money was moved? The money at Calloway, I mean,” she said.

  He frowned, but kept rubbing her foot. “No. That has yet to be determined. The next thing to do is to bring in outside accountants, people who aren’t connected to the company. I just have to get the go-ahead from my father.”

  She nodded, keeping her expression unreadable.

  “Do you think he’ll give you permission?”

  “Why wouldn’t he?” he asked, looking at her askance.

  “Well, maybe he has some stuff that he doesn’t want you to know about,” she said, shrugging and playing stupid.

  “Like what? The old man may like race cars and yachts and women, but he’s got tons of those.” He cocked his head. “A better question is, why are we talking about work?”

  He grinned lasciviously, giving Cam a hint about what he was thinking.

  “Do you have a better topic?” she asked.

  “Mmm… do I have a better topic?” he said, putting her feet down and moving close. “Let me think…”

  Smith moved her auburn locks and brushed hot, wet kisses against her pulse points on her neck. She moaned aloud, losing all ability to think.

  She pulled him down with her, knowing full well that the bubble could burst at any moment. Sooner, rather than later, Smith was going to know the truth about her and his father.

  She kissed him all the harder as rain began to pound on the windows. Maybe if she wished hard enough, it would wash away all her sins…

  19

  Cam woke up the next morning tangled in Smith’s arms. Not a bad way to wake up. She checked her phone. Shit. It was 10 and she’d agreed to meet her friends for lunch at 11.

  Cam nudged Smith awake.

  “Huh?” He rubbed his stubble sleepily.

  “Smith! Can you drop me off somewhere? I’ll never make it in time if I take public transit.”

  Smith kissed her, then shushed her and closed his eyes.

  Cam laughed. “No, you’re not going back to sleep!”

  Smith opened one eye. “Call my driver.”

  “To drop me off to a ladies' lunch?”

  “Sure, I’ll okay it.” He rolled over.

  Cam sighed. She imitated picking up a phone. “Hi, yeah, I’d like to order a car. My boss, who’s naked in my bed, says it’s okay.”

  Smith sat up. “Hmnmpf. You win. Where do you need to go?”

  Cam smiled.

  Thirty minutes later, Smith pulled his car up in front of the restaurant. Cam moved to get out, but he pulled her back for a quick kiss.

  “It’s the least you can do, since you’re not going to tip me,” he murmured.

  She got out of the car smiling. She straightened her top and ran a hand through her hair, still smiling. Then she spotted her friends at an outdoor table.

  Shit. They’d seen everything. And Liz was there.

  Liz was like a bloodhound trained to detect feelings. She was so intuitive that it was genuinely creepy. Cam met her friend’s eyes as she walked up to the table. Oh yeah, Liz was on the trail.

  Cam held up her hands in warning as she sat down. “Can I at least get a drink before you all grill me?”

  “NO!” her friends said, in unison.

  Liz shoved her drink in front of Cam. “There. Now who the hell was that?”

  Cam took a sip to buy some time. “Wow, this is delicious!”

  Liz narrowed her eyes. “It’s a fermented sage-infused mimosa and it’s fucking disgusting. Who was that?”

  “He’s just a guy I hooked up with. He spent the night, we overslept, he dropped me off so I wouldn’t be late. It’s not a big deal.”

  To Cam’s surprise, Liz nodded and dropped the topic. They all began to chat. Cam studied the menu and ordered a burger. As soon as the food arrived, though, Liz pounced.

  “You’ve worked up quite an appetite with your beefcake, haven’t you, Cameron?” She nodded at the other girls, who chimed in.

  “Where’d you meet him?”

  “How was the sex?”

  “Was he driving a Tesla?”

  Cam groaned. “Why is this so fascinating to you all?”

  Liz rolled her eyes at the other girls. “Really? Let’s see. First, you’re glowing
. Second, we saw him pull you back in for a kiss, and not just a ‘let’s text sometime’ kind of kiss. Third, your normal hookup types are usually the sad photographers from work who take pictures of pigeons and shit in their spare time, not ripped businessmen in Gucci suits.”

  “You could not possibly have seen what kind of suit he was wearing!” Cam laughed.

  “Oh,” another friend continued, “you look happy. Like, really happy.”

  Liz snatched a handful of fries from Cam’s plate and waved them accusingly at her. “Rebecca is correct. You look happy. That is very damning evidence. What do you have to say for yourself?”

  Cam dropped her head and mumbled. Her friends leaned in to hear.

  “I might have taken this one a bit beyond hooking up, but I’m ending it soon. It’s not going to work out. Actually, it’s impossible.”

  Rebecca took her friend’s hand. “Why is it impossible?”Cam fought back tears. “I’m doing a piece on his family, he’s going to find out soon and he’s going to hate me when he does.” She looked at Liz. “He’s seriously going to hate me.”Liz narrowed her eyes as she thought, then smiled at Cam and shook her head. “I don’t think so, kid. I have a sense that you’re stuck with this one, whether you like it or not. Cheer up and eat your burger!”

  Just then, Cam’s phone chimed. She read the text and wondered, not for the first time, if her friend might be a witch.

  Her screen displayed a text from Smith: I want to see you tomorrow. Not for work.

  She typed back: Take a trip with me?

  20

  “Where are we going?” Smith asked Cameron for the hundredth time, raising his eyebrows.

  They were driving in his white Tesla Model X, with Cameron at the wheel. They were somewhere far to the east of the city, but he had no idea where exactly. He could taste and smell salt in the air, so they had to be very close to the ocean.

  He squinted out the window, shading his eyes against the dying sun. The terrain had leveled out and the ground had become sandy. They drove up a long incline, and past long stretches of scrub.

  He had no idea where Cameron was driving them to, and he hated that. He sighed.

  “We’ll be there soon,” she promised, flashing him a grin.

  She tossed that shiny mane of red hair playfully. She wore a black halter top and a pair of barely-there jean shorts. He eyed her with nothing short of lust. Sex was on his mind more often than not these days, and Cameron was at the center of his fantasies.

  Luckily for him, he had the temerity to make his fantasies a reality. He slid his hand over her bare knee, up her thigh. She squealed and shook it off.

  “We’re really almost there,” she said.

  He settled his hand on her inner thigh and sat back, content at the moment with tracing discrete figures into her skin with his fingertips. She bit her lip, and he could see her blushing.

  At least he had an effect on her. Considering how much he thought of her, it was only fair.

  She pulled off the highway onto a sandy road. The ocean loomed ahead of them, the brilliant waves guarded by nothing but a few hundred meters of naked beach. She stopped by an old sign reading “Owl Point.”

  “This is it,” she said, unbuckling her seatbelt. “This is the place I want to show you.”

  “The beach? Always nice, but aren’t we here a bit late?”

  “Just come with me,” she said.

  They both got out of the car. She kicked off her shoes, and gestured for him to do the same.

  “I promise, you’ll be glad you did,” she said, putting her shoes on the hood of the car.

  He knelt and untied his shoes, then took them off. He stuffed his socks inside them, then tucked the laces inside his shoes. Cameron was already walking down the short path that led to the beach. He followed.

  Halfway to the shore, without looking back, Cameron held out her hand. Smith took it in his.

  “Okay,” she said, “sit here.”

  “Right here?” He looked around. “Don’t you want to go a little closer to the... actual ocean?”

  “No, right here is perfect,” she said. They sat and watched the sun set.

  “You know, I grew up in that town we drove by on the way here,” she said softly. “In a group home.”

  “A group home?”

  She gave him a crooked smile. “It’s like boarding school if you don’t have money or family. An orphanage, sort of.”

  He didn’t know what to say. “Oh. I’m... sorry.”

  Cam shrugged.

  “Growing up, I used to come here often. It was quiet. I could be alone. At the home, it was always loud. Kids fought a lot…” Her face brightened. “Oh! One time, I saw a nest of sea turtles hatch right over there,” she pointed to a spot by the grassy sand dune behind them. “I don’t think I ever told anyone about that, actually. It was kind of a magic moment. I didn’t want the other kids at the home to laugh at me.”

  Smith thought of the hazing he’d gone through at boarding school. Some kids took deliberate pleasure in toying with younger kids. “Yeah, I can understand that,” he said.

  They sat in silence a while, watching the golden orb of the sun sink below the horizon. Then both spoke at once.

  “I just wanted to show you -- ”

  “When I was --”

  They laughed awkwardly. Smith spoke. “You go first.”

  “Well, I was going to say I just... wanted to show you a little bit of my childhood. There’s not much here, but this place was important to me.”

  “I’m glad you did,” Smith responded.

  “What was yours like?”

  “My childhood?” he asked. “Um… well, I had family, and I wasn’t poor - “

  Cameron snorted. “No shit!”

  Smith smiled at her. “I think my childhood was mostly lonely. My mum passed when I was ten, as you know. My dad was busy in the States, running the company. So I was mostly raised by nannies, until I was put in boarding school. I was always jealous of the kids whose parents sent them lovely packages, or insisted they come home for holidays.”

  Cam squeezed Smith’s hand. The sun had set and the air was growing chilly. She shivered.

  “Let’s get out of here,” she said. Smith nodded.

  When they returned to the car, Smith took a second to check his phone. He skimmed over a new email, something about the company’s accounting being screwed up. Smith sighed. A few minutes ago, he’d been in such a calm mood and now he could feel his stress rising again.

  Smith’s stress level continued to rise all night. Cam was staying at his place, but he’d left the bed to spend the night poring over financial reports he’d been sent by management. The email had been right: there were glaring inconsistencies throughout the documents. Now that he was looking, he didn’t know how he’d missed them for so long.

  Then again, I could be wrong. What if I’m just being paranoid about all of this? Or maybe these are just... errors.

  Unable to make sense of it all, Smith sorted out the relevant documents and stacked them on his desk at home, then slipped back into bed next to Cam. He’d talk to his father tomorrow about this stuff, sort it out then.

  Cam rolled over in bed. She could practically feel him worrying.

  “Something wrong?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. Yes. I found some inaccuracies in the company accounts. I’m wondering if I’m getting all the right information.”

  “You think they’re keeping two sets of books?” she asked, instantly alert. This could be exactly the information she needed for her piece!

  Smith’s brow creased with worry. Cam was smart, all right. That she had the same thought as he did was just more confirmation of his fears: something was seriously fishy.

  “I don’t know,” he said again. “Let’s go to sleep. I’ll figure it out in the morning.”

  21

  When you get back from Tokyo, we’re meeting to discuss whether we’re going to publish with you… or without you. I
don’t think your new boss will like finding out that his assistant works for The Daily News.

  With shaking hands, Cam deleted the text message from Erika. It was only the latest of many such messages she’d received since she and Smith had flown to Tokyo for a series of meetings.

  Her editor had apparently told the editorial board about Cam, which in turn ramped up the pressure on Erika to bring her wayward employee to heel. Therefore, Cam simply wasn’t answering her calls.

  Erika’s response to Cam’s lack of replies was to call or text once an hour, usually with a vaguely threatening message. Cam sighed and looked out the floor to ceiling window of her hotel room. Tokyo looked amazing at night, especially after being wined and dined by Smith.

  She stared down at the colorful blare of neon signs, wondering what any of them were for. They were all in Japanese, so they were like trying to read Greek to Cam.

  “Aren’t you cold?”

  Cam turned to see him sprawled across the bed, wearing only boxer briefs. God damn, but he was a work of art. Between the muscles and the tattoos, she had no idea where to look first.

  Every second of their trip that they weren’t in a meeting, they were wrapped up in one another. Kissing, moaning, fucking.

  She smiled. She was cold in her oversized t-shirt and panties, but she just laughed it off.

  “Aren’t you?” she asked, padding barefoot back to the bed.

  “That depends. Are you going to help me out if I’m cold? Come keep me warm?”

  He flashed her those dimples, the ones she thought were so unfair. When Smith was created, they’d given him an extra portion of WOW.

  She rolled her eyes and got in bed, kissing his lips. He chuckled and pulled the comforter up over both of them, then wrapped an arm around her waist.

  They were quiet for a minute, Cam staring out the window and swearing that she wouldn’t think about Erika and her demands right now.

  “What’s going on inside that head of yours?” he asked, propping himself up on his elbows.

  “I don’t know,” she said, pulling a face. “I guess… I was just thinking… if you told me three months ago that I would be here right now, I would’ve laughed.”