Her Special Forces

by Sophia Roslyn

  “Mac and cheese? Yes! My favorite next to pizza.” Gemma clapped her hands, acting more like a normal, happy pre-teen.

  “Hey, nice braid.”

  Gemma giggled and reached back to touch her hair. “Kacey did it. She said it was her first time.”

  Nathan winked. “Good thing she did it. I tried to braid my little sister’s hair once, and it looked like a nest made by a dysfunctional crow when I finished. Betcha it took our mother half an hour to get the knots out.”

  The SEAL’s sudden appearance had startled Kacey-the-braider. “How the hell did you sneak in?” She attempted to regain her emotional balance. People did not steal up on her, SEAL or no SEAL. Especially him. The skin on the back of her neck always tingled when he was close by. Had she finally pushed him far enough away that the connection was lost?

  He grinned. “Superior skills and training, my dear, superior skills and training.” He’d changed from black ops gear to a sky blue Henley over faded jeans, his hair boyishly mussed from being outdoors. Kacey’s pulse clicked up a few notches. This was so not the time to get sidetracked by how good he looked. Or by remembering how good he felt.

  Nathan pushed his sleeves up his muscled forearms, washed and dried his hands, then began collecting ingredients. “What’s going on?”

  Kacey stared at him. Just that quickly, the guy could morph from warrior to domestic. Amazing.

  Jack intentionally slurped his coffee. His bad table manners won a snicker from Nate and a giggle from Gemma. “The senator will be here tomorrow, about noon.”

  “So, the vacation is over. Our idyllic hideaway will be invaded by toadying lackeys and intrusive media?”

  Kacey broke from staring at Nathan’s perfect butt outlined in his perfect-fitting jeans to shake her head. “Apparently not. Jack says the senator is arriving with just one bodyguard.”

  Nathan turned at that, eyebrow lifted. “Really.”

  Kacey was sure he nearly caught her looking, but also wondered if they were thinking the same thing about the situation with the senator. That made it unanimous—something didn’t feel right.

  She glanced at Gemma, who had gone from smiley-faced happy kid to staring at her folded hands on the table.

  “Gem, sweetie, aren’t you excited to be seeing your dad?”

  The girl shrugged. “I’m not allowed to call him Dad. It’s either Father or Sir. Mostly Sir. And he never travels with just one bodyguard. That’s kinda weird. He usually rides in the limo with three of them—most of the time Mr. Solomon is his driver, then a guy sitting in the passenger seat, and another guy who sits in the back with him. They all have guns. Well, except for Mr. Solomon. He’s not a bodyguard, and he doesn’t have a gun. He’s our chauffeur, and he’s really nice. Taught me about cars and how to drive.”

  Kacey and Jack exchanged surreptitious eye contact. Kacey picked up on Nathan’s body posture as he stilled for a fraction of a second, then he continued with his cooking chores.

  She patted Gemma’s hand. “Mr. Solomon sounds like a good guy, and he did a great job teaching you, or I might not have made it back to Winterpine in one piece. Remind me to thank him. Don’t you travel with your da…father?”

  Gemma’s braid bounced with a shake of her head. “Not me, I never go with him. Two bodyguards take me in an SUV to meet him at events, then I stand near him for photos. Never in front—either a step to the side, away from the microphone, or a step behind. Only Mom could stand next to him. And I wasn’t supposed to talk to anyone, especially reporters. Then the guys would drive me home again. When my mom was alive, the two of us rode together. Unless they both had to go somewhere special in the limo. Then Mom let me stay home.”

  The poor thing. The broad dislike Kacey previously harbored toward Senator Mansfield spiraled into a personal, hands-on loathing for the man, and how he treated his sweet, intelligent daughter. He didn’t deserve such a good kid. She glanced at Jack, who seemed to read her mind, then gave her a quick “not now” shake of his head. He was obviously thinking more clearly—Kacey’s acidic comments would be better left for another time.

  Nathan had been surprisingly quiet during the discussion; he moved about the kitchen, clanking pots and utensils as he pulled together dinner.

  He finally served, and Kacey grinned. “I see you found olives.”

  “Yeah, but the pimento-stuffed Spanish kind, not the black ones.”

  She speared a cheesy green and red olive, made a project of sampling it. “It works. Good.”

  Jack looked at his bowl. “Olives?”

  Gemma dove in, spooned up a big mouthful. “Wow, the olives are awesome. Mrs. Bennett never put them in mac and cheese before. And she always bakes it in the oven. Too bad the guys left already. I betcha they’d love this.”

  Nathan laughed, spoke behind his hand like he shared a secret. “That’s why I waited until they were gone—more for us.”

  Kacey looked up. “Who is Mrs. Bennett?”

  “She’s our cook, from before I was born. I didn’t think anyone could cook as good as Mrs. Bennett, but Captain Weatherly is great, too!”

  Nathan tucked in on the other side of Kacey, nearly touching her, the aura of his body making her feel surprisingly warm and secure. “After all we’ve been through, please call me Nate. That’s my own special recipe, for my own special girls.”

  Jack rolled his eyes, and Gemma giggled.

  “Does that mean Miss Kacey is your special girl, too?”

  “Oh yeah, even when she’s being a pain-in-the…uh, stubborn.”

  Kacey declined to respond. Surprised by how hungry she was, she relished the food. What she couldn’t stop was the little hairs standing up at the back of her neck in reaction to Nathan’s words. Was she his special girl?

  The FBI agent didn’t waste time picking at his food, olives or not. He dug in with as much gusto as Gemma. “Weatherly, as much as I hate to admit it, this really hits the spot.”

  “Yeah, that’s me, a man of many talents. You know the Navy, they only deal with the best of the best.”

  The flush rose to Kacey’s cheeks as she remembered the scope of his other talents. Talents she’d refused to acknowledge when she tried to chase him off. Talents that had her warm and wet just from the thinking. She still couldn’t actually pinpoint what he’d done that was so terrible she’d felt the need to drive him away—or, at least, tried to drive him—from her doorstep. He steadfastly refused to go. Maybe he was smarter than her.

  Quietly, shoulder to shoulder, they enjoyed their food, while Jack and Gemma argued with each other over who knew more about flying.

  Always the first traitors to turn, Kacey’s nipples had immediately puckered, her areolas tightened and pebbly, as soon as Nathan settled himself on the next chair. As much as her wounds ached, her girl parts went from somnolent to wide awake with his muscular body in such close proximity, sharing his total maleness, his strength. She shifted in her seat for the sake of comfort, tried to avoid catching Jack’s attention. Any pithy observations on his part could definitely spoil the companionable mood.

  Cannon cocked an eyebrow at her from across the table, slyly hid most of a grin. Sonofabitch. He hadn’t missed a thing.

  …

  Kacey nearly fell asleep over her plate, and Gemma didn’t look like she was far behind. After shuffling the girls off to bed, Jack helped Nate do a quick clean-up. When Nate lifted an eyebrow at Jack’s offer of assistance, the older man twisted a grin. “I get to help the girls with dish duty when I’m home—a strong suggestion from my wife. Leading by example. I’m supposed to be a good, non-chauvinistic male role model, so I learned my way around the kitchen.”

  That resulted in a sigh from Jack, but a chuckle from Nate at the thought of the tough FBI Special Agent being overruled by his wife and daughters.

  When they finished, Jack gave a half-assed salute and headed off to bed. There was no doubt that tomorrow would be another stressful day for the agent. Cannon needed to ensure Gemma finally made
it back to her family, safe and sound—before he faced those higher on the FBI food chain.

  Nate went to his own room to clean up. The man who returned his gaze in the mirror looked tired, and, if truth be told, a bit on the haggard side. Maybe a shave would help—he admittedly looked scruffy. The fashion and entertainment industries held firm that a day or two’s growth of beard was masculine and sexy, but he hated the idea of leaving whisker burn on a red-head’s sensitive, creamy skin. He didn’t want his rough cheeks or chin to sand off her freckles, either.

  He showered and shaved, brushed his teeth, combed his mop of hair, applied deodorant and a touch of cologne. There, Cinderfella is ready for the ball. Almost. He didn’t plan on meeting anyone in the hallway, but pulled on pajama bottoms, just the same. Already at half mast, he used caution while hiking up the elastic waistband over his hips.

  Crossing the hallway, he slipped into Kacey’s room, stealthy as a prime cat burglar. He grinned at the comparison. Who would make a more perfect cat burglar than a field-tested SEAL?

  Total blackness met him. He sat in the side chair for a few minutes while his eyes acclimated to the dark, discovered that Kacey had covered the clock’s bright red LED readout with a hand towel.

  Before long, he could see shadows and shapes in the ambient light. Kacey lay in the middle of the bed, facing away from him, her wounded side up. Lifting the sheet, he slid in next to her. His state of arousal kicked up another notch.

  As he pressed closer to her, he nuzzled her shoulder, avoided her injuries as he ran his hand from her torso to her calf. She’d swapped her oversized T-shirt for what felt like a slinky nightgown that went to her ankles. Hmm, she must have had it at the house. Very sexy. His splayed fingers returned to her thigh, rested there.

  Her slurred words were half mumble, half whisper. “Mmm. Jonah? I feel better, really. Don’t fuss. Go home to the wife and kiddies.” She drifted off again.

  “No, Kace, not Jonah. He doesn’t have a wife and kiddies, at least not yet.” Mine. If Jonah had overstepped his doctor duties and touched her in such intimate fashion, they might yet come to blows. Best friend or not.

  “Nathan, zat you?”

  “Yeah, baby, it’s me.”

  “Warm hand. Mmm. Nice.”

  Even though the summer temps were moderately high during the day, a comfortable breeze stirred the sheer drape panels at night.

  “Are you chilly, baby?” He brushed her shoulder with his mouth, pulled at a spaghetti strap with his lips, then nibbled along the ridge of her ear lobe.

  “Hmm, nope, not now.”

  His fingers left her thigh, crept around her ribs to the firm under-curve of her breast. He withdrew his hand for a moment, so he could align his fully erect member along the crevice of her bottom, rather than rudely poking her. Not sliding deep into her body took a large measure of self-control. The need to have her, especially after the day’s events, moved front and center. The battle had come to their safe place—it didn’t matter who the enemy was, only that their bastion had nearly been breached. His woman had been threatened, and he felt the primeval urge to claim her.

  At the light touch of his fingertip, her nipple firmed immediately, the reaction accompanied by a soft sigh. Kacey shifted, and her perfect ass pressed against him.

  Nate could barely catch his breath. “Ahh, babe, you’re killin’ me here.” He slid one arm under her head, moved the other hand to caress the curve of her butt. He wasn’t sure she was totally awake, then her arm slid back to pull him closer. Her hand found his wrist, directed his fingers toward more serious investigation. Pulling up her nightgown, he let it pool around her waist. She wiggled against him, and he continued exploring from the rear. Reaching the warm moistness sandwiched within her labia, his heart slammed in his chest and his cock reached full alert, its status gone from interested to rock-hard.

  She tried to turn toward him, then took a quick breath as her wounds made their presence known.

  “Easy, sweetness, stay still. Let me do the work.” His kisses found the back of her neck, his efforts rewarded by a deep purr.

  Her wetness allowed his fingers to play, until he captured her clitoris between thumb and forefinger.

  “Oh, God, yes, Nathan.” She tipped her hips more, presented an easier target for him. “Oh sweet Jesus, baby, I need you inside me, please, no more teasing.”

  He needed that, too. Needed to take her, glide into in her, forget the outside world and the dangers always lurking. Taking himself in hand, he rubbed his cockhead against her slit, adding pre-cum to her own cream. Gripping her thigh for leverage instead of her wounded hip, he eased into her from behind until he was buried deeply, completely. Her hot, smooth sheath held him so tightly, he was afraid he wouldn’t last longer than one more stroke.

  Leaving her thigh, his hand cupped her breast through the satiny nightgown fabric, tweaked the nipple until she moaned. That nearly did him in, as her pussy pulsed in time with his nipple play.

  “Oh fuck, baby, don’t move, or it’s gonna be all over for me.”

  Her own hand pressed his more firmly against her breast.

  “Kace, baby, I’m serious—”

  Her words were barely a whisper. “So am I.”

  The tingle at the base of his spine signaled his time allotment had been reduced from I’m almost there to omigod. He freed his hand from under hers, carefully reached over her until he trapped her clit in his fingers. At first he rolled the hardened bloom between his fingertips, then he pressed the firmed flesh back against his own rigid shaft, where cock met pussy.

  Kacey fingers splayed against his, her body twisting. “Nathan, baby, that feels so—” Her moan morphed into a cry as her orgasm suddenly exploded.

  With her flesh pulsing and grasping so strongly, Nate gave up the fight, plunged, then held still. His mouth locked onto her shoulder, but nothing could prevent the eruption as his seed blasted into her, his testicles drawn up so tight it was almost painful. Just a touch of almost-agony to heighten the intense pleasure.

  Half a dozen heartbeats later, only the sounds of harsh breathing filled the room. Nate’s cock softened, but only slightly, refusing to leave her. He felt her body tremble, heard an odd sound. A sob?

  “Kacey, baby, are you crying? Did I hurt you? Should I move? Don’t cry, please.”

  “Yes. No. Fuck, I don’t know.” She sniffled. “My side hurts, but don’t move yet. Don’t pull out.”

  Taking her at her word, he gently slid back into her, firmed enough to continue a slow, comfortable rhythm.

  He’d been worried, really worried. Troubled that his response to the danger, physically and mentally, had pulled him totally back into the SEAL world—an old war horse, hearing the sound of the trumpets, eyes wide, adrenaline pumping, heartbeat pounding, body and mind on hyper alert.

  The fear he’d hidden that morning, the fear of losing her after he’d found her again, finally fragmented and disappeared, like black thunderclouds dissipating after a storm. A SEAL couldn’t let fear enter the equation. With Kacey in his arms, with his manhood buried deeply inside her, he felt vital again, ready to rock-n-roll and take on the world.

  Doubt was not an issue. This woman made his life worth living.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Wrapped in Nathan’s arms seemed the best place for Kacey to be. So, what was wrong? The real question to ask: what was wrong with her?

  Kacey’s wounds throbbed, but she relished the feeling of being totally sated more than she’d give in to the pain.

  After both their bodies relaxed in post-coital exhaustion, Nathan’s arm lay across her, his even breathing warm on her shoulder. He’d fallen asleep.

  “What, baby?”

  Okay, maybe he hadn’t fallen asleep.

  “Didn’t mean to wake you.” She wasn’t sure how she’d disturbed his slumber, but apparently she did, just by a change in her breathing.

  “You didn’t. I wasn’t sleeping, I was enjoying, basking in the afterglow. There�
�s a difference.” He shifted his hand from her ribs to her thigh, pulled down and smoothed the hem of her nightgown so it wasn’t bunched up.

  “Uh huh.”

  “Your breathing altered, your body tensed. You were obviously deep in thought, so I figured I should ask what you were so profoundly pondering.”

  Her hand covered his. “So, I was pondering? Are you sure I didn’t wake you?”

  “Yeah. And quit trying to change the subject.” He mouthed her shoulder.

  Shivers traveled up her spine as a result of what his lips were doing. “Can’t you just leave me to ponder in peace?”

  “No. Tell me.”

  “I’m worried about Jeffrey.” The lie passed her lips too easily, which worried her.

  He took a break from nibbling to respond. “Me, too. Jonah will keep an eye on him—both eyes, actually. The guys planned to stay a few days at the hotel in Woburn, then pack their gear and return to Winterpine.”

  Kacey found it difficult to concentrate with Nathan’s hand stroking her leg over the silky smoothness of the nightgown. “To Timberwyck. I told them how pissed off I’d be if they spent money on hotels when I have so many rooms to spare. They can just as easily discuss their future without spending another dime on rented accommodations. The house staff would actually like to deal with someone else besides me.”

  “Very generous of you. Or, can’t you wait to have Barracuda underfoot, making me crazy because he thinks it’s so much fun. Now, why don’t you tell me what’s really on your mind, and quit bullshitting around.”

  Her gut clenched. Damn, why couldn’t he just let it go?

  “Nathan, really?”

  “Kace, something really has you torn up, and it’s affecting us. Our relationship.”

  Relationship. That’s a word men usually avoid. What’s with that?

  He moved his cheek to rest against her hair, his hand to her shoulder, where his fingers made small circles against her skin.

  “Kace, baby, tell me.”

  “Fine. I feel like a fish out of water.” There, that should keep him busy, and it was actually close enough to the truth.