SEAL's Secret: A Secret Baby Military Romance

by Virginia Sexton

  We stop rather abruptly, and Tobias unbinds the fabric from my eyes. I scrunch my nose and blink a couple times in quick succession before I’m able to entirely take in the scene before me. My jaw drops open, and I only barely register that Jenna is standing in front of me, eagerly taking in my expression.

  There is a clearing in the woods, about a forty-yard by forty-yard patch which has been recently mowed and trimmed. The dusk has deepened as we made our way through the woods, but there are string lights ringing the entirety of the clearing and lanterns hung at regular intervals. Two large Safari tents are erected on top of elevated platforms, giving the tents wood flooring as well as a deck outside of their flaps. A table is set outside of what appears to be the main tent with what appears to be a meal underneath silver lids.

  “What do you think?” Jenna asks, youthful expectation in her voice.

  What do I think? I think I’m about to cry again. I feel the tears rising to my eyes and an itching begins at the back of my throat. Tobias still has not let go of my hand, and I squeeze his fingers. “It’s beautiful, honey.”

  She turns a somersault as though performing a show for me, topping it off with her hands up in the air. “It was Toby’s idea. We’ve had a whole team of people in here, and he let me give them directions on where to put everything.”

  I take the chance of looking at him, and I can see he’s simultaneously trying to avert his eyes while checking in on me. I sniff away a few more tears. “So, you’ve made yourself a little escape out here, after all?”

  “There’s two tents. I’m hoping I don’t have to stay out here completely alone.”

  My stomach does some tricks pretty much equivalent to what Jenna does when she’s on the uneven bars.

  She pulls at the hem of my shirt. “Mom. The glow-in-the-dark capture the flag match starts in a few minutes. Can I go? It’s going to be so cool.”

  I am completely aware that the capture the flag match conveniently leaves me alone with Tobias, and I also know he’s the one who instigated the game. “Of course, honey —”

  “Thanks, Mom. Don’t wait up.” And without interruption, she’s off like a flash back toward the main campsite.

  Tobias keeps hold of my hand as he walks me toward a wrought iron table set up on the decking of the main tent. He takes the stopper out of a pre-opened bottle of wine and pours us both a glass. God, that man is every sort of steamy. His T-shirt is simple, but it stretches over his shoulders and biceps, and it looks like it’d be soft under my fingers. His jeans are just Levi’s, but they hug what must be a chiseled ass — as well as the Donald Duck tattoo I very much want to see — and stretch against his big thighs. The tension which fills his features when he’s in the main campsite is gone, and he actually looks relaxed right now. I like relaxed Tobias. He looks his age. It’s easy to forget he’s only thirty.

  I take the glass he extends to me. “I can’t believe you put this all together so quickly.”

  “I don’t know if I could have done it without your daughter. I’ve never seen a workforce more responsive. She’d make a great officer.”

  I laugh out loud at that. “Only if the military lets her do aerial acrobatics and wear pink camouflage.”

  He shrugs over-dramatically. “Hey, it’s a new military. You never know.”

  He sets his wine down and extends a hand to me once again. “When’s the last time you had a good dance?”

  Oh Lord, when was it? “Now you’re making me feel old. I don’t think I’ve danced with a guy since high school.”

  “Far too long.”

  As soon as my fingers slip into his, he pulls me and against his chest. The rush of desire which infused me so entirely that night in the Jacuzzi comes back to me. He smells just as good as he did then. Leather and Old Spice. Tobias isn’t shy. He draws me right against his chest, a hand resting just above the round of my behind and the other holding my hand folded against his chest.

  The smallest of twinges fires off in the back of my brain telling myself to stick with the long-term game plan. But, I let my head fall against his shoulder and bury my nose in his neck. It’s far from a complicated dance that we step to. Just the gentle sway of two bodies, Tobias slowly swinging his legs this way and then back, directing us in small circles around the little deck.

  It’s everything I need. I find myself breathing heavily again, but not for the same reason – not from the passion of that night before. Utter and complete letting go. I dig my fingers into his chest, trying to convince myself not to cry. This is not a crying moment. This is a moment to indulge in passion with a smoldering hot man. And yet, I sniffle.

  Tobias tilts his chin down to try to get a look at me. I bury my own chin a little deeper so he can’t see that I’m holding back tears. His hand travels from the top of my buttocks, up my back, over my shoulder and neck, and tucks under my jaw. He lifts. “What’s going on down there? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, really. It’s just so beautiful, and I’ve been so stressed lately. I don’t know why I’m crying.”

  The little smile he offers me has the suggestion of understanding. “One thing you find out in the military is how many different ways soldiers have of coping with complicated emotions. You’d be surprised how many guys cry. Sometimes you just have to let it go.”

  “I don’t want to cry. I want to…”

  I let my words trail off but continue to let my lips do the talking. I angle up and straighten just enough. Tobias understands, his tongue wetting his lips before he leans in and takes my mouth with a kiss. We keep moving ever so slowly, my legs naturally following his movement as one kiss rolls into another. It’s a sweet dance full of gentle hands and lips.

  I lose track of how many movie scores go by as we sway across the decking, Tobias’s lips moving over mine, pressing soft and hard — barely brushing against me and then seizing me whole. It’s not long before — pressed as closely together as we are — that I feel his manhood grow against my hip. That little voice in the back of my head tries to warn me where this evening is heading, but every other inch of my body screams for me to just keep dancing. To just keep kissing. To keep exploring the hard lines of his tempting body.

  I don’t even realize I’m the first one to make a move. Before I know it, my fingers are underneath the hem of his shirt and feeling the taut skin across the tightly muscled grouping on his stomach. He pulls his shirt up more to give me encouragement to keep exploring. His own fingers delve underneath my shirt and roam up my back. My mind triggers back to when his lips closed on my breast, and I deepen our kiss to one of absolute need.

  Tobias must feel the desire coursing through my veins, because he pulls my shirt up and over my head, our bodies parting for only a moment as I pull at his shirt as well and am rewarded with the site of his bronzed torso. He pulls me back in before I can truly feast my eyes on the deeply cut V descending into his jeans and over the hard squares of pectoral muscles on his chest. The man has a beautiful body he has built for war.

  But as we come back together — oh Lord — the feeling of his skin against mine sets off fireworks in my chest. It’s hot, and it’s soft. His kisses now are just as fevered as mine, and he yanks on the belt buckle of my jeans, getting me to follow him as he steps backwards toward the tent.

  We back into the flap, entering the tent and closing away the outside world — and none too soon. Tobias’s expert fingers unclasp my bra, though I am pressed so closely to him that the fabric doesn’t fall from between us. He breaks our kiss and backs up just enough, readying himself to discard my brassiere.

  In doing so, I open my eyes and am surprised by the interior of the tent. It’s a full bedroom suite, complete with a king-size bed. I let out a feeble, “Oh.”

  His voice is husky with desire. “You had me thinking that even though I may be stuck camping for my leave, that doesn’t mean I can’t have the comforts of home.”

  And then he does it again — he dips his head and runs his tongue over my nipple
. I moan immediately and arch my spine to give him better access. I know now is the moment to put a stop to this — that allowing this to go on only has one inevitable conclusion. But I lack the willpower. Or perhaps this is the first time in which my desire overrides all other considerations.

  Tobias turns me so my back is to the bed, and he walks me toward it. I go willingly. The back of my thighs hit the mattress, and I allow myself to fall. I scoot back on the mattress, giving both myself and Tobias room to lay down. He rises over top of me and to the side, leaning on one of his elbows as his other hand caresses my side. He kisses down my jawline and lower, his hot breath against my neck.

  Those fingers of his trail ever downward as his lips play at the hollow of my neck. With a flick of his thumb and forefinger, he has the button to my jeans off and my zipper down. Giving myself completely over, I don’t make the least semblance of resistance as his fingers slip underneath my panty line.

  I am startled by how wet I am. I hadn’t realized until his fingers enter my folds and my slickness greets him. I moan as he takes his time, his middle finger exploring with leisurely ease. He trails up and down from the bud of my clitoris to my opening, and my pelvis tilts up to greet him. My fingers are digging into his shoulders — needing something to hold onto. He’s taking his sweet time as he explores the wetness of my pussy before he hones in at the very top — at the nub of my clit.

  He circles in maddeningly slow swirls, his tongue matching the pace as his lips move down to my breasts. He alternates between probing closer to my needy entrance and pressing against my bud. He finally slips his middle digit inside and pulsates it in shallow thrusts. A warmth flows up my belly and into my chest, causing a red flush to spread over my breasts. The heat permeates into my mind, leaving fire in its wake. I flex my thighs and my stomach, and my hands reach out to clench the sheets.

  He knows he has me, and his lips close down on my nipple as he sends another finger inside. He thrust deeper and curls his fingers in, brushing against the top of my walls. Another wave of heat blossoms inside of me as he applies pressure and doesn’t let up. I cry out, my knees lifting and my legs parting. My entire body flexes, and my shoulders lift off the mattress as I cry out and an orgasm crashes into me. Sweat beads on my forehead and between my breasts as he doesn’t let up the pressure, and the orgasm grows and grows until it drops in a heady rush that sends my moisture onto the sheets.

  Tobias releases the pressure and withdraws from my pussy, his lips making their way back up my neck and to my lips. I collapse — completely exhausted.

  I had meant to take her once I recharged last night, but Casey had fallen asleep on my chest, and I hadn’t wanted to wake her. I enjoyed too much the feel of her naked breasts against my stomach. She lay there where she had fallen asleep — down low — after she had shyly pushed me to my back and crept down my body.

  Even thinking of it now is getting me hard. The look in her eye as I helped her ease my jeans down my hips and she came eye to shaft with my cock. With that mixture of sweetness and intoxication, one would think she’d never sucked a man off before. But the way her hands explored my abdomen and up my sides and then swept through the dusting of pubic hair — it was divine.

  So were the whimpering moans that came out of her when my hips moved to her ministrations, my cock in her mouth. I can close my eyes and see it now. The way she looked up at me — like she was searching for my approval. Damn, girl, you get my approval, all right. I came inside her mouth, and Casey cleaned me off with her tongue then laid her head on my stomach.

  She hadn’t moved far. I look down my body at the beautiful woman who is naked and laid out between my legs, her body gently rolling with my breathing. Her hair is a bit messed from where my fingers dug in for a grip as she took me inside her mouth. She has a sweet little beginning of a smile on her lips, and I can’t help but wonder what she’s dreaming of. I hope to hell it has something to do with me.

  Maybe this morning. Maybe I can wake her up and slide inside of her.

  Instead, I lay my head back on the pillow and close my eyes. I never sleep particularly well when I’m home. One would think my brain would understand I am somewhere safe, but years of training and deployment cannot be turned off overnight — or in a matter of weeks.

  The sounds of the night had me on high alert and gave me only fits of stolen sleep. The morning light is seeping through the tent flap and permeating the canvas fabric, but all through the nighttime hours, my mind was in the continual progress of being triggered for battle readiness. Not that it matters. I’m used to running off very little sleep. I’m used to suspecting malice in the snapping of twigs and the calling of birds. The hoot of an owl is particularly easy for a human to replicate as a signal while lying in wait – or ambush.

  Time and time again, I had to tell my body to calm down — this time it’s really just an owl. But I wasn’t expecting the feeling of possession. I know what it feels like in the field — the feeling of being in out there in the desert with nothing but a rifle and my battle buddies. I know that in those moments, I should be thinking of protecting my country and its citizens, but all I can ever think of is protecting the lives of my brothers. Yet, this is different. As I listened to the sounds last night, I was ready to tackle a bear if it meant protecting the woman in my bed.

  I pick up the closing of a car door, and my nerves are set on edge, a well-honed battle readiness setting my blood pumping. I hear quiet voices approaching. Calm down, dumbass. It’s breakfast. I chastise myself for the plans I was already making to roll out of the tent flap and kneecap whoever was coming in. You’re home. Calm the fuck down.

  I get up on my elbows and test slowly moving myself up and away from Casey without waking her. I’m able to roll off the bed in a fairly delicate fashion and reach for a pair of sweats. Slipping them on but otherwise free balling it, I exit onto the front deck of the Safari tent.

  It’s a young man and a woman in the typical caterer’s outfit of a black pants and white button up. They freeze in the process of setting up the little wrought-iron table with something that smells of eggs and bacon and pancakes. They look a little guilty, and I’m pretty sure I catch the young woman blushing before she averts her face.

  “I apologize if we woke you, sir,” the young man says, being sure to keep his voice low still. “I hope everything is to you and your family’s liking.”

  My family. I like it. “Don’t worry about it. I was already awake. And it smells delicious. Thank you.” I pat at my sweats and my bare chest — as though I have pockets there as well. “I’ll be sure to forward the tip. I’m a little lacking at the moment.”

  The guy’s eyes dart behind me, and he’s quick to conceal a smirk. I look as well, and my breath is taken away by the beautifully disheveled woman who is obviously naked, though holding both the tent flaps to conceal her quite nicely. Casey gets an eyeful of our company and snaps the flaps shut once more.

  The guy gives me a nod. “I believe we’re all set here. We’ll be on our way. Enjoy.”

  I give the caterers a moment to get to a safe distance before peaking my head inside the Safari tent. It really is a nice set up in there. Wood floors, real furniture, even another flap leading to a field bathroom complete with running water. My kind of camping. And that right there — the woman opening the dresser drawers and finding the clothing her daughter had stashed there the day before — that’s my kind of woman.

  Casey’s hair skewers my view of her as she leans down to put on a plaid pair of pajama pants. She looks up at me with just the hint of her eyes and a shy smile visible through the veil. I feel my cock stir again, and I judge whether I have enough time to pin her down on the mattress and have that morning romp I’ve been thinking about all night.

  Instead, a young voice calls out from the direction of the other tent. “I smell bacon!”

  “Your daughter’s one hell of an early riser.”

  Casey’s biting her lip now, and I know she is debating how to ex
plain exiting the tent with me. “Morning practices. I think her internal clock is already set for five a.m.”

  We all get to the table at about the same time, and I lift the covers from the food, displaying a smorgasbord of breakfast delights. Sausage, scrambled eggs, cheeses and cold cuts, pancakes, fresh maple sugar, smoked salmon, raspberry pastries, and croissants. Hot coffee in a carafe for Casey and I, and OJ for all.

  Silence reigns as we all pick at the food with serving utensils and load up our plates. Jenna keeps stealing glances at me and her mother, and I’m suddenly wondering if this is the right thing to do — that the kid will think there is something more going on. Not the sex part — not that I want the kid to know anything about that — it’s just that I, well, I’m going to be leaving soon.

  Jenna pours practically half of the maple syrup over her pancakes and sausage then digs in with her fork, speaking around a full mouth of food. “So, didn’t come back to the tent last night, Mom?”

  Good Lord. I didn’t know a grown woman could get that red. She chokes on her croissant and takes a couple large swigs of orange juice. “Tobias and I were having a lovely conversation.”

  Her daughter squints at her. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

  Yep. A grown woman can get that red. “Jenna!”

  “What, Mom? We have cable.”

  It’s been a couple of years since I saw that look of hope in Jenna’s eyes. That look that says maybe this one. I haven’t been very — shall we say, active — in the dating scene since I-Shall-Conquer-Thee-Bradley. Ever since him, I have never once let it slip that I haven’t been with a man. I become a conquest, and I refuse to be ruled over.

  Perhaps, I should just take Jenna home. I need to begin a job hunt pronto, and Jenna really doesn’t need to be looking at Tobias like that. It isn’t just my heart at play, here, when he leaves — he’ll be leaving her as well. And yet, maybe I can just have a mature talk with her. After all, we have cable. She knows about adult relationships, and I’m tired of denying myself. How do you tell a ten-year-old that you just want to have a little fun? God. You don’t.