Stone Hard SEALs

by Sabrina York

  She especially enjoyed the recounting of the time he’d gotten drunk on his first unsupervised liberty and had to be hauled out of jail by his commanding officer—and he’d barfed all over his CO’s boots.

  She knew, from living with her father as a child, that military men were obsessed with their footwear. How many times had she gone into her parents’ bedroom to see her father on the bed spit-shining his boots? The smell of boot black and brass cleaner was always a heady scent in the air.

  Drake spoke of his sister as well, and the crazy antics they got up to—how they drove their mother crazy. Ryder featured in many of those stories because when they were young, their fathers had been stationed together and their families were longtime friends. It was clear Drake admired Ryder tremendously, that he was the older brother Drake had never had—but when he spoke of him, Brandy didn’t miss the downturn of his lips.

  She wanted to probe but knew she needed to be subtle.

  “So how did you and Ryder end up on the same squad?” It seemed an unlikely coincidence…and a convenient entrée to the real question.

  Drake sighed and scrubbed his face. “I asked to be assigned to him.”

  “Did you?”

  “It was my dream to work with him. Always had been. Stupid, huh?”

  God, she hated the wobble in his tone. “Why stupid?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know what I was thinking. That he’d be just as excited to work with me, I guess.”

  Annoyance rippled in her gut. “He isn’t?” She wasn’t sure why she was offended on his behalf. Or maybe she was. How dare Ryder disrespect Drake? If she ever met him, she’d rip him a new one.

  Drake lifted a shoulder. “He wasn’t thrilled. And damn, after this clusterfuck, he’ll never trust me again. It was our first mission together.”

  The hairs on her nape rose. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  His chin firmed. “That doesn’t matter. I’m responsible. It just sucks to constantly seek the approval of someone who…”

  He trailed off, but he didn’t need to finish. She knew the feeling and she knew it well. Some people just could not be pleased. Her father was one of them.

  “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone.” She didn’t intend to infuse her declaration with such ferocity, but she meant it. “I’m sure your mom and dad are proud of you.”

  His expression closed down. “My dad, ah, died.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He dismissed her sympathy with a shake of his head. “It was a long time ago. He was a SEAL too and his dad was a frogman in World War II.”

  “Ah. So you’re carrying on the family tradition?”

  “I guess.”

  “Did you ever think of being something else?”

  He forced a grin. “Of course. When I was six, I decided I wanted to be an astronaut.”

  “Wrong branch of the service.”

  “Don’t I know it. But I didn’t have the grades to make it in the air force.”

  “Seriously?”

  He shrugged and shot her a grin. Dimples blossomed on his cheek. “What can I say? I was a slacker.”

  “But not stupid.”

  “Not stupid. Just lazy. I didn’t kick it into gear until it meant something. And by God, when I joined the SEALs, I was determined to make my mark.” She knew, she could see it in his eyes…he wanted to make his mark to impress Ryder.

  “How’d you do?”

  His lips tweaked. “My company all got perfect scores in boot camp.”

  She lifted a brow. “Hall of Fame company?” Kinda rare.

  “Yup.”

  “Your mom must have been proud about that.” And Ryder? Hell, he should be kissing Drake’s boots.

  He grunted. “She didn’t want me to be in the navy.”

  “What did she want you to do?”

  Drake shrugged. “Who knows? Something safe. But you know what? I have a buddy who was killed on the freeway, five miles from his parents’ house. Nothing is ever completely safe.”

  “No.” That was certainly true. Brandy had never worried much about being safe. She took life as it came and grabbed it by the horns—if it had any. Life was meant to be lived. It was far too short to have any regrets. There were too many adventures to be had to play it safe.

  She glanced over at Drake…just as he glanced at her with that look in his eye. This time when he smiled at her, she smiled back.

  Life was too short not to taste it all.

  Chapter Six

  Holy God. Her smile was unmistakable. An invitation, pure and simple. Drake leaned in and kissed her. He’d been thinking about kissing her all day. It was just as sweet as he expected it to be.

  There was something about her. About this woman. Something that just grabbed him by the gut and yanked. She was drop-dead gorgeous and built…but it was more than that. He loved her sense of humor and her pluck. He even liked it when she got all prickly, because it was so much damn fun to charm her out of a bad mood.

  Each time he made her smile was a triumph, but this smile was probably the best because he knew what it meant. He knew what she wanted.

  He threaded his fingers through her silky hair and held her still as he rubbed his lips over hers, then sealed their mouths. She opened for him—he knew she would—and he pressed in.

  Fucking heaven.

  The intensity of the kiss raged quickly out of control. She clutched at him and he at her and then madly, crazily, she began tugging at his shirt. It was only polite to do the same.

  He was thankful it was still afternoon, that some light still shone through the bushes. Because he could see her.

  Yeah. Much better this way. Her expressions were startling in their feral passion. He liked seeing her skin, the way his dark hand contrasted with her creamy hue. He worked off her bra and took her breasts in his hands. A shiver ran through him. God, he loved her breasts. Alabaster tipped with rose.

  He bent his head and sucked her in. As she had last night, she responded with fury, raw passion, arching her back and pressing closer. As he lipped one nipple, he toyed with the other, making her thrash.

  He laid her back and ate his way down her body; all the while her hands roved over his bare shoulders, his arms, his back. When she raked him with her nails, he almost lost control. She was like a tigress. A lust-crazed creature of the wild.

  Then again, so was he.

  He undid her zipper and yanked down her jeans, and her panties with them, baring her.

  His breath caught.

  She was beautiful. Gorgeous. And yeah, he wanted to gorge. On her. He stroked her mound, traced her, watched as she quivered. Then he opened her with his thumbs.

  He glanced up and shot her a somber look. “No yowling,” he said, and he bent his head.

  She didn’t yowl as he lapped her, at least not much, but by that point, Drake didn’t care. She kicked off her jeans and wrapped her legs around his neck and held on for dear life as he licked and teased and tormented her clit.

  He brought her to the brink of orgasm, working her with his tongue, his lips, his fingers. It surprised him, how quickly she rose into it. But then, maybe not. She was a passionate woman. He loved that her passion matched and met his.

  Which was saying a lot because he was hot for her. Crazed. The thought of sinking his cock in her hot folds nearly unmanned him. It certainly befuddled his mind. So much so, he completely forgot about the condom.

  She didn’t. As he yanked his pants open and tore down his Skivvies, she reached over and fumbled in the bag, cursing until she found them. She ripped one off the string and handed it to him. He tried not to let her see him shake as he opened it and rolled it on, but how could she miss it? She was staring at his cock, her eyes wide, her lips parted.

  Damn. Damn those parted lips.

  They reminded him of what she’d done to him last night, how she’d sucked and nibbled and brought him to glory.

  It took everything in him to wait until she raised her ga
ze to his. “Are you ready?”

  She gusted a laugh. “Ready? I’ve been ready for hours.”

  Yeah. She might just be the perfect woman.

  * * *

  Brandy stared at the top of Drake’s head as he fixed his attention on his cock and then, because she didn’t want to miss it, she glanced down and watched as he entered her. He’d prepared her well. Her body was open and ready and he slid in easily. One long, slow slide.

  Her eyes crossed as he filled her. Gawd, it was good. She shifted her legs apart and urged him deeper. When he winced, she recalled his injury and released her death grip on his ass.

  “Maybe I should be on top,” she suggested, though without much conviction.

  “No fucking way.”

  “You’re injured.”

  “Shut up,” he said, and he kissed her to make sure she did. He thrust his tongue in her mouth as he nudged deeper. The dual sensations sent quivers running through her.

  God, he was hot. And hard. And large.

  When he pulled out she almost wailed—but remembered they were trying to be quiet. When he reversed direction and filled her again, she couldn’t help the whimper that escaped her lips.

  It wasn’t just the length and breadth of his cock, there was more to it than that. It was a sizzle of electricity when they touched, a flaring excitement that filled her with heat and seething hunger.

  “Yes,” she huffed, as he came at her from a different angle and kissed a bundle of nerves deep within. Spirals of sensation rocked her. An uncontrollable raft of ripples skittered along every nerve. Damn, he knew what he was doing.

  Or, perhaps, they were just a perfect fit.

  Fucking had never been this good. Ever.

  She came again, almost immediately. She tried to hold it back, but couldn’t. He groaned as she closed around him and he didn’t move until the quake released her. Then he began thrusting again. This time with a faster, more desperate, rhythm.

  She closed her eyes and reveled in the feelings, the bliss cascading through her as he pounded, hell for leather, in and out of her. Like a well-honed spear, he plunged, taking her, time and time again.

  Excitement coiled at her core. The beast rose again. She tightened her muscles to fight it off, to make this ecstasy last.

  “Relax,” he hissed.

  “I can’t.”

  “Baby, I can’t move.”

  She frowned at him but tried to relax her muscles. Because really, she wanted him to move. It felt too damn good. And ah. Ah. He launched into motion again.

  He stared down at her as he plowed in and out of her, his gaze burning into hers. She loved his face, the way his nostrils flared, the way his chin bunched, the way the muscles on his neck stood out as he strained.

  Faster and faster, harder and harder, deeper and deeper still.

  His cock swelled, filling her even more, stretching her, consuming her, ravaging her, but she was right there with him. “Yes,” she gasped. “More.”

  “You’re killing me, baby,” he said on a groan, but he hitched it up a notch.

  “You love it.”

  “God. I do. You’re so wet. So hot. Ah!”

  He changed angles and hit her again from a different direction and she exploded. Colors danced before her eyes and absolute rapture descended. He lunged once, twice, a third time, and then he shuddered and settled on top of her.

  She’d always hated that, when a guy settled on top of her. Felt constricted, locked in. Somehow, with Drake, she loved it. His weight, his heat, the sweat on his brow. She wanted to soak him in. Take it all.

  He raised his head and stared at her. His lips worked.

  She cupped his cheek and eased up to kiss him. His response was an open-mouthed frenzy. A tumult of lips and tongues and raging gratitude.

  “God,” he said as he collapsed at her side. “God.”

  She smiled. It had been pretty fucking amazing. “Imagine what we could do if we weren’t in a cave.”

  He chuckled as he peeled off the condom and dropped it into the trash bag in the corner. “Shit. Imagine what we could do if we had a bed.”

  “Or a sofa.”

  “Or the backseat of a Caddy.” His grin melted. “But seriously, Brandy?”

  “Yeah?” She really liked the look in his eye.

  “That was…something.”

  She nodded. There were no words for it. Just…something. Something beyond belief.

  Something that, come tomorrow, might never happen again.

  A cold ball formed in her belly. She sat up and found her bra and her shirt and her underwear and her jeans and started putting it all back on.

  “Brandy?”

  “What?”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong. It was fucking awesome. What could be wrong?”

  He covered her hand, halting her manic actions. Then he tipped her face up to his and thumbed her tears.

  Shit. Was she crying? Why was she crying?

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing.”

  “We both know it’s not nothing. Did I hurt you?”

  “No.”

  “Then what?”

  “Okay. Fine. That was phenomenal. I just had this brain fart, is all.”

  His brow rumpled. Fuck. He was even cute with a rumpled brow. How fair was that? “What kind of brain fart?”

  “This thing? Between us?” She swirled her hand in an illustrative manner.

  “Yeeeaaah?”

  “It’s just a one-time thing. The reaction to the situation or some weird chemistry. But when we get back, I’ll go home and you’ll go back to wherever you hang your hat, and that will be it.”

  He stared at her for a long moment. His throat worked. “It doesn’t have to be like that.”

  Her heart lurched. “Wh-what do you mean?”

  “I mean…” He laced his fingers and stared at them. Unlike her, he seemed absolutely at ease with his nakedness.

  She was at ease with his nakedness too. He was magnificent to look at. “Drake?”

  “We could agree…this isn’t it. We could agree to see each other…after this.”

  “Is that…? Would you…? I mean…”

  “Yes. It is. I would.” He glanced at her. “If you would.”

  Her heart started beating again, this time in a crazed tattoo. Her mood swung up and her soul danced on the clouds. Or something like that. “Oh. I would. I would.”

  He grinned. “Okay.”

  “You’ll probably drive me crazy before long though,” she grumbled. He probably would.

  “Likewise.” He grabbed his shirt and tugged it on, but she caught his expression before it disappeared. It was stunning. He seemed…delighted and humble and happy.

  The realization that he felt it too—that the chemistry or connection or whatever it was wasn’t one way—was thrilling.

  Sure, he was a SEAL—the kind of guy she’d vowed to avoid for all time—but maybe she needed to rethink that conviction and give this guy a chance. Maybe it was unfair to paint all gung-ho guys with the same brush.

  Hell, there was no maybe about it.

  She couldn’t even consider the alternative.

  * * *

  They spent the rest of the afternoon resting and eating and occasionally kissing. Drake knew which activity he liked the best.

  And damn, the confirmation that Brandy had enjoyed this as much as he had, that she wanted something more with him, was awesome.

  He’d had a lot of girlfriends, but none had ever engendered these kinds of feelings, so he wasn’t quite sure what this all meant—but he was looking forward to finding out.

  Once they got out of this mess, of course.

  They started out for the other island as dusk settled on the horizon, but before they left, Brandy made him test his legs. Spending all night and all day cooped up in a tiny cave hadn’t done him any favors. Everything was creaky and stiff.

  His ass hurt with each step and he was weaker than
he would have liked, but they made sure to eat plenty and drink up before they left, so he had faith he could work that all off.

  He’d been in worse shape. Once, he’d run ten miles with a massive hangover. Next to that, this was a fucking cakewalk.

  Brandy led the way down the beach, which he found annoying—he was the one with the weapon after all—but if they were going to try to have a relationship after this, he figured he’d best learn to live with her tendency to forge onward…without his approval. Besides, she’d made this trek before.

  She slowed as they approached the clearing mounded with supplies. Drake scanned the area and determined no pirates were around. They stocked up on more water and food and continued to the south. They didn’t know how long they’d have to wait on the other island once they got there. Might as well be comfortable.

  He wasn’t looking forward to swimming in the ocean—not with his wound—but mentally, he was preparing for it. He’d do whatever it took to keep her safe.

  Brandy rounded a corner and skidded to a halt. Drake lifted his weapon, even as her hands rose slowly in the air. She shot a remorseful look at him over her shoulder and his gut lurched.

  He peered around the tree and froze. His heart thudded painfully. His breath caught.

  Shit. Fuck.

  A group of pirates stood in the sand, holding AK-47s pointed directly at her.

  “Back up,” he hissed.

  She obeyed—thank God—taking a tiny step back. She flinched as one of the pirates fired; a bullet hit the sand at her feet. “Drake?”

  They couldn’t see him yet. Maybe he could whip around and open fire and take them out before—

  But no. They had their guns up. Their fingers on the trigger. If he shot, they would too, and they would hit her.

  “Go on. Get away,” she whispered.

  He didn’t.

  He couldn’t.

  For one thing, he would never leave her to the mercies of a band of pirates, not now. Now that he knew her.