SEAL'd Legacy (Brotherhood of SEAL'd Hearts)

by Gabi Moore

  “So what do you think happened?” she said and gestured to the screen. I turned to look. It was the news. Some pulpy murder story or something. I plonked my items on the counter.

  “Crazy people being crazy, huh? What’s new,” I said and pulled out my wallet.

  “Yeah, I don’t know. This one seems like a pretty big deal. They say Portal’s stock price has already halved in just two hours,” she said, and turned the volume up.

  Portal?

  I spun around to look at the screen again.

  “An unnamed source has confirmed that the leaked pictures are indeed of Jeff Cane but as of yet there is no indication whether these pictures are connected to last night’s murder…”

  My wallet fell from my hands.

  “Police have cordoned off the Portal founder’s multi-million dollar Californian home and investigations are now underway. Cane has declined to comment on what is proving to be a case that’s more bizarre by the hour. Details on this breaking story are still unclear but chief of Police Barry O’Neil has stated that the shocking homicide of Elizabeth Cane is a top priority for their department. ABC7’s Jenna Watson reports.”

  Could this be real? The image on the screen was unbelievable: on one side, a censored, candid shot of a plush bedroom splattered with blood, and beside it, a humiliating picture of Jeff Cane – the same as the one I held in my handbag at that very moment.

  I swallowed hard.

  “Huh, this city is fucked, let me tell you. All kinds of stuff going on behind the scenes, you know. Just goes to show. You wanna know my theory? I think they were both, like, kinky swinger types, wife swapping and that kind of thing, and someone gets jealous, things get out of hand, then boom, some jilted lover kills the wife and leaks the pics for revenge on the husband,” the girl behind the counter said, then gave me a knowing wink and waited to see what I thought of her sleuthing skills.

  I felt the blood drain from my face.

  I quickly paid and stumbled out of the diner, the sounds of the news story still in my head.

  A murder.

  He had killed her.

  Her twisted, begging face was burned into my mind and all I could think about was the fact that she had come to me for help. And now he had actually killed her.

  Fuck. Oh fuck.

  Dizzy, I collapsed into my car seat and tried to think. Who the fuck had leaked those photos? Who else even had them? I hadn’t given anything to the reporter. Not only was my little revenge plot rapidly crumbling before my eyes, something more sinister was taking shape in its place. This was bigger than I knew. Somebody else had wanted to hurt Jeff Cane, and worse, somebody had killed his wife. I wanted to throw up.

  I raced back home, locked the door, and holed myself up in the library. I needed to think, and fast. On a whim I noticed the flashing red light on the landline phone and pressed the button. Though I was still angry as hell with him, the thought of hearing Dean’s voice now was a strange comfort.

  “Nora Smith, this is detective Brady of the California PD. I’m calling with regards to the Cane investigation. Call me back as soon as you can. You’ll need to come down to the station and answer a few questions.”

  - END OF BOOK 1 -

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  Blurb

  When the ship went under, I acted fast, and I did what I had to.

  Now we were stuck in the middle of nowhere… and the worst was yet to come.

  I’m not sure what brought Ellie storming into my life, but us coming together was no accident.

  Looking back, I guess I always had a suspicion that there was something fated about those three strange days we spent together, and about the chain reaction afterwards that brought us both square into one another’s lives.

  From the moment I saw her, I knew that my life was going to change in a big way.

  I had no idea just how big…

  Chapter 1 - Anthony

  That’s a filthy habit,” I say and make sure she sees the kink in my eyebrows.

  “Well, then it’ll keep all my other filthy habits company, won’t it?” she said, and gave me a defiant smile. It was our standard in-joke. Our already-a-married-couple routine that I could never admit actually irritated the hell out of me. She blew a band of smoke off to the side and let her lips stay pouted.

  “Reckless behavior is cute when you’re a teenager, Ellie, but not so much at our age,” I said at her attempt to be funny. She scowled, stubbed the cigarette out and flopped restlessly down onto the bed.

  “Unpacked already?” I asked.

  “Nah, I’ll do it later.”

  I had already told myself that I would let little things like this pass. Any marriage needs to be able to survive things like this. Any marriage must have compromise. And me grinning and bearing the fact that Ellie sometimes behaved like an overgrown 5-year-old was just one of those compromises.

  “Ok, well, just don’t leave it too late,” I said. Then she gave me that look. I decided to be the better man and let it go. We were here to have fun, after all. We were here on a vacation. If she needed to get stuff like this out of her system, then fine, let her do it. She was only 25. Young in a sense, sure. But old enough.

  I wasn’t some kind of monster; I understood her need to still get out there and experience the world. Hell, I was even paying for it. A two-week luxury holiday on a cruise ship that she had jokingly called a ‘farewell to her old life’. Look, I’m a grown man, so I pretended at the time that that didn’t sting. But I had to be realistic, too. Ellie was the perfect woman, in every way. But there was one glaring problem that needed to be resolved before we committed to one another properly, and if we didn’t resolve it on this little vacation, then I wasn’t sure what other options we had.

  The agreement was that she got to let her hair down a little before the wedding and I got a few more months to save for the house down payment the following year. Fine. But I still couldn’t escape the feeling that with this vacation we had both quietly put each other on probation. I would be looking to see if she was truly willing to take our marriage seriously and actually had it in her to be a mother and wife, and she would be …well, that part wasn’t as clear to me yet.

  I lifted a pile of folded shirts from my bag and carefully carried them over to the cupboard. She was rolling around on the bed, getting everything badly crinkled. Now she had a brochure in her hand that she had fished from the nightstand, and was looking at it with interest.

  “Oh look, salsa!” she squealed.

  “No way,” I said, placed the shirts neatly down and turned to face her.

  She was grinning.

  “Oh come on, please? Look, they have this fun class this evening, we can go. It says it’s fine for beginners… it’s at 8, come on let’s go!”

  “But I can’t dance,” I said and started packing my trousers away.

  “But that’s the point! They teach you. It says here that afterwards it’s just a normal party and you dance what you’ve learnt and have fun,” she said, kicking her legs up like a schoolgirl.

  “Even worse,” I grumbled. This time she didn’t have to give me a look.

  “Sorry, sorry, you’re right, it’s just …can we try something else maybe? Something less nerve-wracking? I swear I saw a wine tasting thing, what about that?”

  She sighed and flipped through the glossy brochure.

  “You kno
w, if I’m going to give up a vice for this trip, the least you could do is pick one up.”

  I smiled. She really was a pretty woman.

  “Ok, ok, fine.”

  I took a deep breath, closed the cupboard door and sat next to her on the bed. It was just after 5. On the one hand, I was almost certain a dance class would be unbearably awkward and embarrassing for everyone involved. But on the other, it might prove enough of a distraction this evening so we didn’t have to …have sex.

  Don’t get me wrong, sex with Ellie is lovely. She’s the perfect woman, in that regard, and I have no complaints. But I was tired. It had been a long drive over to the harbor and a lot of stress boarding and unpacking. I just wanted to relax now.

  “Do we need to wear any special footwear?” I said and leant forward to give her a peck on her forehead.

  “So that’s a yes?” she laughed and sprang off the bed. Christ, I hated when she was like this. Treating me like I was the designated anti-fun ogre, when in truth, she was the one who forced me into that role because without fail, she was unwilling to commit to a damn thing in this world, and follow through with it.

  “Of course. We’re on vacation, aren’t we?” I said, and jumped up to do a little impromptu salsa twirl in our room.

  I let her fuss over me and kiss my head and dance around the room a little, hands linked to mine. She was one of those women that actually looked completely different depending on whether she smiled or not. When she laughed, her whole face opened up and glowed. Her eyes were a soft, hazy green, like sea glass, and her hair was that kind of grey-blonde that looked like a stronger color that had just been through a few washes. I loved seeing her flat, cold face light up like that. When I proposed to her, I told her that I would gladly make that my life’s purpose: to make her smile. And I meant it.

  Ellie had a troubled past, and she was still learning that not every pleasure had to nearly kill her to be worth pursuing… but I digress. I had promised her that if she agreed to quit smoking for these two weeks, I’d quit ‘criticizing’ the other dozen bad habits she had. I didn’t want to rush her. I wanted her to see the value of personal growth for its own sake. I would give her time, and I’d give her all the opportunity she needed. And after she realized that an empty existence of drinking and bingeing and smoking weren’t as satisfying as she thought, I’d be there, waiting for her to start a proper life together.

  I walked around the room and took inventory.

  “If this room was just in a regular hotel, they’d never be able to charge what they do,” I said and looked down at the complimentary toiletries on the counter.

  “But it’s not in a regular hotel,” she said. “It’s floating in the middle of the ocean.”

  I peeked around the bathroom wall to see her fish out a sundress and leave the rest of her bag crumpled and unpacked, right in the middle of the bed.

  “Fair enough,” I said and went to poke my head out the tiny round window. But there was the truth right there: Ellie’s spontaneous ocean liner adventure came with a cost. Nearly 50% extra, from my quick calculations, and for a room that showed no signs of having more than one power outlet.

  I walked into the main room again and saw her standing expectantly, stripped down to her bra and panties and holding the sundress in her hands. She smiled at me smiling.

  “That’s …that’s very pretty. Did I buy you that?” I asked. She did a slow twirl.

  “Nope, I bought it especially for our trip…” she said, and sauntered up to me. I placed gentle hands over her soft curves and leaned in for a kiss.

  “As you can see, though, I didn’t quite lose all my Christmas weight so I just had to bring my fat rolls along for a vacation, too!”

  I pulled her in close, gave her neck a kiss and smiled.

  “Shh, that’s my fiancé you’re talking about”

  She was right of course. She had put on a few pounds with the stress of the last year, but I didn’t care. In fact, I loved the womanly softness the extra weight gave her hips and belly. It’ll sound awful, but there was something deeply satisfying about knowing that she was finally eating properly, that she was well-fed. I wanted her to relax and let me take care of her.

  Her face was lit up with that big smile again. She really did love going on ‘adventures’. She stood up on her tip toes and leaned in for a deep kiss. I placed a tender hand at the base of her skull and cradled her there, sharing a sweet, silent moment with her.

  “We should go out on deck and have a look at those little shops we saw coming in,” I said, smoothing down her hair.

  “I don’t care about the little shops,” she grinned, and tried to kiss me again. I laughed.

  “What about having an adventure, hm? What about all those activities you wanted to do?”

  “Fuck the activities,” she said and snaked her hands along my sides, a devilish look on her face.

  “That’s no way for a lady to speak, where are your manners?” I teased.

  “Fuck manners,” she said naughtily. “And fuck me…”

  Here she grabbed my hips and pulled me hard against her crotch, grinding into me. Ok. Fine. Sex and salsa. I did say I would compromise, I guess. I leaned in for another kiss and let her unbutton my trousers.

  Her greedy little tongue kissed me absentmindedly as her hands worked to peel my clothing off. I stood, letting her do her thing. I plonked her bag off the bed and lay down, beckoning her to join me. But she didn’t. Instead, she gave her hair a flick and started to wiggle her hips a little, stripper style. It wasn’t our usual thing, but we were on holiday, I guess. I leant my head back into my hands and watched her with a smile. She peered at me from out under a lock of hair, then slinked off her bra and then her panties.

  Ellie had the perfect breasts. They were the softest, fullest things in the universe, smooth and pink and perfect and so plump on the bottom they were nearly spherical.

  I smiled.

  “Baby, you don’t have to do this…”

  “I know,” she said quickly, and ran her hands up and down her body.

  She could easily see the effect this had on me. Women like Ellie have learnt that they need to degrade themselves to be loved, but I would teach her that none of this stuff was necessary. Her body was beautiful and pure just the way it was. Besides, I didn’t like thinking about where she had learnt to do any of this stuff in the first place.

  “Stop teasing and get over here,” I growled.

  She giggled as I pulled her down to the bed and kissed her, my hand finding its way down between her milky thighs. She was already a little wet. My fingers stroked gently around that sweet little slit, before going in a little deeper, to those places I knew made her moan the loudest. She grew wetter. I will never understand why our standard sex routine was supposed to suddenly become something more magical simply because we made love on a different bed, but I could see how quickly she was responding to me, so, I guess it was worth coming all the way out here.

  After she was completely wet and receptive, I lay back and let her hop on top of me, and I gently slid my cock into her, watching the expression on her face twitch and change as her hips lowered to take all of me in. We had been together a good few years, but I never got tired of that feeling. All her weight relaxed fully on to my groin, she smiled broadly and began to swivel her hips, her clit playing against the base of my cock. I held her hips and smiled back up at her. This was still one of my favorite ways of making her smile.

  She arched her back and let her hair tumble down her back, the tips grazing against my fingertips. I squeezed and rolled her full ass cheeks in my hands and let her ride me. This was our favorite position, the one that always made her come, no matter what. But as for me…

  “You OK, baby…?” she breathed into my ear.

  “I’m good,” I said. She just shouldn’t ask. I hated it when she fucking asked. Everything was already half over once she asked.

  She let her head fall back again and groaned. I could feel inside
how her body was tightening up to an orgasm, and I dutifully lifted my hips up into her to stroke her off the edge. She came easily, but quietly. She froze on top of me, clawed a little at my chest and then, once her breathing came to normal again, she glanced down at me and smiled.

  “Mmm…”

  “Was that good?” I said and twirled my hips against her, still deep inside.

  “Uh huh,” she said, nibbled her lower lip and then started grinding again.

  “You wanna keep going?”

  “Uh huh.”

  I could feel myself going limp inside her, but I picked up the pace and drove the tip of my cock deep up and into her. I felt the shudder as it travelled down her spine. Perching up on the balls of her feet, she spread her hands wide over my chest and balanced there, lowering just a few inches at a time down onto me again, stroking my cock with each up thrust and sliding slowly back down onto it again. It was hot. She was hot. But it just wasn’t working.

  “Baby? You OK?” she said, and glanced down.

  I grabbed her and pulled her off. Asking like that, with that particular tone of voice, totally killed the mood, but looking down at me like I was some injured puppy really sealed the deal.

  “I’m good, I’m fine, just tired,” I said, and guided her to lay next to me. My hands slipped between her thighs again, hoping at least another orgasm for her would take the attention off of me. She had a concerned little frown on her face, and reached out her hand to stroke my brow. Now that was what I found the most infuriating of all. Not that my cock chose the worst possible times to stop working. Not the agonizing stress of it all. But the pity. I gently pushed her hand away.