SEAL of Fate: A Navy SEAL Romance

by Darcy Kent

  SEAL

  OF

  FATE

  By Darcy Kent

  Copyright © 2017 by Darcy Kent

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Dedication:

  To all my friends and family.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  ──────────────────────────

  “Fuck my life,” I said, sighing.

  I’d been working in this nightclub for a few months now, and as I glance down at my soaked shirt, I cursed again.

  The beat was loud, the lights dim, and everyone was screaming at me for more drinks. Ah, the life of a cocktail waitress- how exciting. Only it wasn’t. This job served one purpose, to make money. Where else could you work five hours and walk away with two-hundred bucks, best part…I didn’t have to take off my clothes.

  Although right now I needed to take off my shirt. I’d been doused in beer, whiskey, and whatever else was on my fucking tray when some snooty moron bumped into me with both elbows as she tried to get jiggy with it. The tray knocked over and all drinks landed on me. I debated whether to get the bartender to make my drinks again, or if I should change my shirt first.

  Normally on a busy Friday night the bar had two bartenders, right now I only saw one and who knows where the other one ran off to.

  I walked to the break area where I had an extra work shirt in my locker. Like I said, I’d worked here for a few months, and was saving money to leave town. New York City and me just didn’t agree. I was born and raised here, and wanted more than anything to end up in a small town in the middle of nowhere. Although, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to handle that either. What could I handle? My life was a downright mess. My father claimed it was because I failed out of college, but community college got boring and working nights at another club downtown, those eight a.m. classes got harder and harder to attend.

  I loved working here, fast action, fast money. The only thing that sucked was the customers. Snooty women coming to party, drink, and get laid. Men who just wanted to get laid. It was a meet market of meet markets.

  Everyone who worked here was nice, except for one of the bartenders who pretty much spent his time hitting on anything with a vagina.

  He was the reason most women came here in the first place. Ryder Drake. Playboy and a good looking one at that. His dark hair was trimmed short. His deep blue eyes were the kind people wrote songs about. His body was perfect, fit and solid and was most likely chiseled by God himself. He was the epitome of every woman’s fantasy. Except mine.

  When I first started I will admit, he put his lame ass moves on me, which of course didn’t work. I wasn’t into a wham, bam, thank you ma’am type of ordeal. I wasn’t looking for a long term commitment either, but I did abide by one rule, don’t be someone’s one night stand…especially if you work with them.

  So, after I turned him down-he ignored me. Which was just fine with me. I had a boyfriend, kind of. Okay, I had my own personal fuck buddy, but Grant was cool. He did his thing, I did mine-sometimes we would do them together.

  So, as I walked further into the back area of the bar, I stumbled through the darkened hallways. The loud beat of the club echoed off the cool tiled walls. The smell of beer hung in the air, and floated down the corridor with me. I didn’t know if I was producing the smell or if it had always smelled this way. My shoes slushed along the sopping wet floor as I came to the door at the end of the hall. My locker was just beyond, and I couldn’t wait to get out of this ridiculously wet shirt and back to work.

  Opening the door, I was blinded by what I saw. In the middle of the room was the employee break table where we would all eat our lunch, or should I say dinner. Pounding his way to fruition was no other than the sexy god-like bartender, Ryder Drake. The girl he was so vigorously slamming himself into was the same skank who had yelled at me for giving her the wrong drink earlier in the night.

  She was face down, leaning over the table and Ryder was behind her holding her head down. The expression on his face was one of boredom, with maybe a hint of pleasure wrapped into his gorgeous features.

  My heart slammed into my chest, and I couldn’t turn away. Why couldn’t I turn the fuck around? I’ll tell you why, for some odd reason there was a foreign sensation traveling through my body into my core. The way he worked her body and rammed himself in and out of her made my cheeks flush.

  Not a moment later his eyes locked with mine, zapping the air with a charged energy connecting us and his sensual lips curved into a smile. The woman he was fucking was oblivious to our encounter, and I could barely make out her muffled cries of enjoyment.

  Eyes connected with Ryder, I tried again to turn away. Why was my traitorous body not cooperating? I'll tell you why, cause for some asinine reason it was turning me on.

  He pumped her a few more times and then squeezed his eyes shut, moaning, “Helena,” as his orgasm raced through his body.

  At the sound of his voice, and the name that fell from his lips, I stumbled back into the darkened hallway. The door slammed shut, and I raced to collect myself. Stumbling over my own two feet, I couldn’t get the image of him and her together out of my mind. What shocked me even more was the name he expelled from his lips, my name.

  Helena’s my name. Nice to meet you. Helena Madison, that’s me. The same Helena who minutes before, Ryder was calling out mid-orgasm.

  Fuck is right. Still clothed in the wet shirt, I made my way back over to the bar, picked up my drinks and placed them on the tray. Now what?

  My mind was still reeling over what I just witnessed. And then as if by magic, Ryder appeared right behind me.

  “Hey,” he said into my ear, sending a shiver down my neck, down my spine and all over my skin.

  I cringed my whole body outward and walked away with my tray in hand. Don’t you dare look back, don’t look back.

  A moment of weakness overcame me, and I glanced back.

  His sexy hot, eyes were trained on me. He smiled, producing a dimple on both cheeks, and my heart melted. Or leapt into my chest, whichever gets you going that’s how I felt. My name on his lips still echoed through my mind.

  I continued throughout the busy Friday night shift. Delivering drinks, brushing off old, drunk men with cigars and bourbon in hand as they tried to pick me up. “Your legs are so long. Your hair is the color of rain on a sunny day.” Like I said they were drunk. Rain on a sunny day? What color is that? My hair was a deep chestnut brown, with hints of purple I’d dyed into it not long ago.

  Either way I tried my hardest to run along through my shift and not go near Ryder. As if he knew what I was up to he kept trying to get my attention, but I’d successfully ignored him.

  Finally, at the end of the night, after my shirt had dried, I went to my locker and got my belongings. Exhausted from a busy night, I threw on my jacket to exit out the back and begin my journey home.

  “Helena, wait up,” Ryder said as I made my way outside of the club.

  Why was he talking to me?

  I turned around and felt a cool breeze snap
around my face. He was striding toward me and I sucked in a deep breath. The street light shone off his face and ignited his blue eyes to a deep sapphire color. He really was nice to look at.

  “What?” I asked in a haughty tone.

  We were the only two around in the late hours of the parking lot of Club Arrow. He stopped right in front of me, and bowed his head to the ground. Then his head snapped back up and our eyes locked.

  “So, you kind of ruined my plans tonight, so now I’ll be staying the night at your house.”

  I scoffed, I laughed a moment until I realized he wasn’t laughing. He was serious, what the fuck?

  “Are you kidding?” I strolled away from him and made my way to the nearest subway entrance. I normally made this trip alone every night I worked, and never bothered with the fact I was a single gal in the big bad city of New York. With pepper spray in my purse, and a few ninja skills I felt I could face the streets alone. Ryder followed me down the stairs and into the station.

  “No, I’m not. For the past few months this has been my routine. I stay a few nights with Mark from the club, and the other nights I find some chick and sleep with her and in the morning, I wake up and am on my way.”

  “Why don’t you have your own place?” I asked as we slid into a subway car. I found a seat and he sat right next to me.

  His long leg brushed up against mine as we sat side by side. “I have my own place. Listen, it’s a long story. So, you ruined my night and now you owe me.”

  “I owe you,” I said, slowly. I’m sure my eyes were huge as I studied him.

  His dimples were on full display, and he gazed at me with intensity. My heart was steadily beating and as he scooted closer it began racing. The electrical energy was back between us, and a heat was traveling along my spine.

  His chiseled jaw shook when he stared at me, and he clenched his teeth. “Yes, you owe me. So, I’ll be staying the night with you.”

  “I’m not sleeping with you,” I almost screamed at him.

  “I never said that. God.”

  “How did I ruin your night anyway?” I tried to scoot further away, but was teetering on falling into the aisle. He backed off slightly and put a hand to his face. He was so lucky to touch his gorgeous features. He ran his hand across his cheek and I became envious. Keep it together, Helena.

  “Well, when I said your name during sex, and then the door slammed. Sasha got upset. She remembered your name because you had been serving her drinks all night. Anyways, she slapped me and left the room. I was going to stay the night at her house.”

  “That’s not my fault.” I couldn’t believe him, what was he saying? It was my fault, the nerve of him. I crossed my arms across my chest as my dark hair hung in a veil between us, shielding my face from his.

  “It kind of is.”

  “So, what, now you’re staying at my house? What is wrong with you?” I was angry and I knew he could tell by the tone of my voice.

  “It’s only fair, don’t you think?” His lips curved upward as I moved my hair behind my ear to catch a quick glance at him.

  “No.”

  “No, you don’t think at all. Or no you don’t think it’s a good idea?”

  I flustered, and my hands slammed into my lap as my frustration grew. “What if I told you I have a sick, dying grandmother at home, or a husband?” And right now I kind of wish I did. No well, maybe not the latter one, no husband for me. Ah, okay or the sick dying grandmother, I’d never wish for that.

  Both my grandparents died before I was born, and all I had left in the world were my parents.

  “Well do you?” It was his turn to fold his arms across his chest.

  I took a deep breath and let it out. “No.”

  “Great it’s settled.”

  “You have some serious baggage, you know that?”

  “What do you mean?” He turned toward me and dropped his hands. They landed on his thighs, and again I was jealous. He touched his own body like it wasn’t the most amazing body in the world.

  “You sleep with a different chick every night, you have a home but don’t stay there for some unknown reason. Don’t you see? Baggage, huge baggage.”

  His eyes twinkled with amusement as he watched me talk. His gaze landed on my lips and sat there for a second, maybe longer.

  Under his scrutiny, I fidgeted with my hands in my lap and looked away.

  “Okay, but doesn’t everyone?”

  “Well, whatever, just keep your baggage locked tightly away in your head.” I pointed my finger to his head, “or you heart,” I drew my hand down to his chest and pointed. My head dropped and my cheeks flushed as I said the next words, “or your penis.”

  He chuckled softly and the sound played in my ears for a moment before I glanced back up at him.

  “Did you just say penis?” he whispered to me in between his laughter.

  “Yeah, so. Just keep it away from me.” My nose scrunched and I made the face I always did when I was annoyed.

  “Promise, I will definitely keep my penis away from you.”

  For some reason that statement pissed me off even more. He usually fucked anything with heels, and now I wasn’t good enough, wait…what? Was I really having this type of internal dialogue?

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You’re an angry little chick, I’d be afraid you’d probably chop it off, or something.” He covered his hands across his groin as my eyes snapped to his.

  “I wouldn’t chop off your dick,” I screamed. I clamped my hand over my mouth and glanced around the subway car to be sure no one had heard.

  Ryder glanced around as well, and we both spotted an older man in the back, asleep.

  When we turned to face each other, our eyes met and we both burst out into a fit of laughter. After the laughter subsided, I threw my head back against the seat. “Fine, you can stay the night. But, first thing in the morning, you are out.”

  “Deal.” He relaxed his body, and suddenly I wanted to know more. What was his story?

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Of course, Helena.” The way he said my name again, all breathy and sexy, made me forget my question and I stammered, trying to gain control.

  My cheeks flushed as I stared at him. His eyes were closed as his head rested against the back of the seat. His hand wrapped around the seat in front of him, and his elbow sat along the window sill.

  “How long have you been living like this? Sleeping with women and staying at their houses.”

  He lifted his head and turned toward me, he didn’t look at me, rather his eyes were focused on a far-off distance on the subway car. “A few months.”

  “Okay, you can ask me a question if you want.”

  He appeared deflated, as if he wasn’t happy with his life situation. I wanted to pry more, I wanted to open him up and search his memory database, or just get his clothes off- but I refrained.

  He sat up and when he stared into my eyes, the world shifted. His eyes were on fire, and intensity rang through them. I didn’t know what was coming, and my heartbeat exploded in my chest.

  “Do you think people can change?” he asked in a whisper.

  My head jarred back slightly as confusion took over, I wasn’t expecting that question…and I had no clue as how to answer it.

  Do people change? I know my mother and father were still the same people they had always been. Happily married living in Jersey, and completely sarcastic, it’s where I’d gotten the gift.

  Had I ever changed? Somewhere along the way I guess I had, but how I wasn’t too sure.

  I returned my gaze to his, and studied his eyes once more. They appeared lost as if he was searching for something he would find in my eyes.

  “I’d like to hope people can change,” I whispered.

  His eyes relaxed and he turned his head toward the window to look out into the nothingness beyond. Tunnels and tunnels of darkness, but as he glanced out the window, his reflection shone through the glass
.

  His face was solemn, and sad. I wanted to soothe him, or wrap an arm around his muscles. Unknown feelings were creeping into my system, and I knew I shouldn’t want him so badly. I shook my head as he turned back around with a glint of humor in his eyes. His previous question and sour mood was erased and he leaned back in his seat.

  “Do you have anything to eat at your place, I’m starving,” he asked.

  “Uh, yeah sure.” Now I was to cook for him? Incredible.

  When we exited the subway station, my apartment was only a few blocks away and we scurried through the cold, dark streets. It was the end of winter in New York and spring was just around the corner. This last cold front should be our last, and I couldn’t wait to bust out the summer clothing.

  When we came up to my apartment complex, I noticed Grant’s car parked near my building. Shit. I forgot he said he might stop by. He had a key to my apartment and was most likely inside, waiting for me. God, I hoped he was dressed.

  “Um, before we go inside,” I started. My key hung in the lock and I gazed up at Ryder.

  “I don’t care. I’m freezing, open the door.” His hands were in his leather jacket, his bag slung over his shoulder and he bunched his jacket tighter around him.

  Chapter Two

  ──────────────────────────

  I opened the door, and we rushed inside to warm up. Just as I thought, Grant sat in my oversized stuffed chair, with a glass of red wine.

  “Hey, who’s this?” Grant asked when he noticed Ryder walk inside.

  “This is a friend from work, he needs a place to stay tonight.” I threw my purse on the entryway table and Grant rose to his feet. Yes, he was dressed…thank God.

  “Hey man,” Ryder said, standing in my entryway unsure of what to do.

  He glanced his head back and forth between Grant and I. Grant crossed the room and put his arms around me, which by the way he never did. Normally, we would just play around, have some sex and he would leave. But, Ryder being here was making Grant feel he needed to stake claim, so essentially, he was peeing on me. Like a dog, marking his territory.