Navy SEAL Rescue

by Susan Cliff

  Again, he wanted to take her. The tip of his shaft was right there at her opening. Her thighs shimmered with droplets of water and her sex glistened. He kissed her sweet mouth, plunging his tongue deep. She kissed him back with equal fervor. She wanted this as much as he did. She needed him deep inside her.

  He broke contact with her mouth and brought his thumb to her lips. He encouraged her to suck it, and she did. His erection throbbed at the sight of her hot mouth stretched around him. He removed his thumb and swept it across her cheek. He pinched her taut nipples, making her moan. Then he went down on his knees.

  She was ripe for his tongue. So ripe and wet and swollen. He speared his tongue into her hot flesh. She buried her hands in his hair and cried out for more. He gave it to her. He replaced his tongue with two fingers, plumbing her silky depths. Then he swirled his tongue over her clitoris. He sucked it and kissed it and loved it. He relished her taste, her scent, her uninhibited responses. He’d never enjoyed pleasuring a woman more. Her moisture flooded his fingers as he thrust them in and out.

  She made breathy sounds of excitement, close to ecstasy. He flicked his tongue slower to draw the moment out. She bucked against his mouth and gave a hoarse scream. He smiled at the sharp tug of her hands in his hair. When her grip loosened, he slid his fingers from her sex.

  “What did you do to me?” she murmured drowsily.

  He rose to rinse off his mouth at the sink. “I’m just getting started.”

  She chuckled at this claim, as if she didn’t believe it.

  He carried her to the bed and tossed her on the mattress. “Are you ready?”

  “For what?”

  He climbed on top of her. “This,” he said, gripping her hair. He entered her in one thrust. She gasped at the feel of him. Her slick channel squeezed him like a fist. He withdrew a few inches and drove home again, harder.

  “Ooh,” she said. “Yes.”

  “Tell me what you want.”

  “You. Inside me.”

  He groaned, thrusting deeper. Her moisture glistened on his shaft as he pounded into her. Her delicate parts stretched wide around his flesh. Everything was swollen and tight and slippery. It felt so goddamned good, he couldn’t stand it.

  He wanted her to come with him, so he slid his hand between them. She mewled her encouragement, her mouth contorted in pleasure. She was so hot, so wet, so perfect. She cried out his name, hips bucking under his. He buried himself to the hilt as her inner muscles fluttered around him.

  God.

  It was just good sex, and great chemistry, and healthy bodies performing well together, but it felt special. It felt like magic. It felt like no one had ever reached this peak before.

  He pulled out at the last second, shuddering with the power of his own climax. Hot seed erupted from him in heavy spurts. It jetted across her belly and arched higher, reaching her quivering breasts.

  When he was finished, he collapsed on top of her. The bed wasn’t big enough for him to roll away. He could have fallen asleep like that, but she shifted with discomfort. He remembered that part of being a generous lover was cleaning up the mess, so he lumbered to his feet. He soaked a washcloth and took care of her. He wiped her breasts, her belly, between her legs. She trembled at his touch, still sensitive. His shaft thickened with interest.

  “Don’t even think about it,” she said.

  He set aside the washcloth, smiling. “You can’t handle another round?”

  “Please. Let me rest.”

  He climbed into bed and put his arm around her, content to wait. He’d rushed things by telling her he loved her earlier. She was rattled from the day’s events. She’d believed him dead. Putting on the emotional brakes was a natural reaction to trauma. If she needed him to slow down, he’d slow down. If she needed time, he’d give her time. He’d do anything for her—because what he felt wasn’t temporary.

  It was forever.

  Chapter 20

  Layah didn’t dream of Khalil.

  She dreamed of William, locked in battle. Jumping through fire, guns blazing. Shielding her with his body, protecting her from harm.

  She woke at dawn in the safety of his arms. He cradled her for a few moments, his breath fanning her ear. Then he eased away from her and sat at the edge of the bed. She tugged the sheets up to cover her naked body, studying him. He had broad shoulders, rippled with muscle. She felt deliciously sore from last night’s activities, but eager to touch him again. She crawled across the mattress and wrapped her arms around him. The sheet fell away, leaving nothing between them.

  He glanced over his shoulder at her. “This is how I’d like to wake up every morning.”

  She cuddled closer, pressing her bare breasts against his back. She could hear his heartbeat, strong and sure. He lifted a hand to her hair and cradled her head. He held her in place behind him, as if he never wanted her to move.

  “I’ve decided to take you captive,” he said.

  She inhaled a sharp breath. “Captive?”

  “It’s only fair.”

  “Will I stay in this room?”

  “Yes. I’ll tie you to the bed.”

  “Naked?”

  “Naked, or covered with a sheet. I’ll rip it off you whenever I want.”

  Her nipples tightened into fine points and heat settled between her legs. She could hear the edge in his voice, the near seriousness of his words. She understood his desire to take control of the situation. To take control of her. He was an idealistic American. He wanted a happy ending to their story, and he couldn’t accept anything less.

  She touched her lips to his shoulder. “I will be your captive, if you like.”

  “Can I tie you up?”

  She stretched out on her back and brought her wrists together in offering. His eyes darkened at the supplicant move. Instead of playing her game, he rose from the bed and put on his pants. He paced the room, raking a hand through his hair. He didn’t want her submission. He wanted her heart.

  She covered herself with the sheet again. “We can take a bus to Yerevan. My parents will wire me money for tickets.”

  “I have to call my commander first.”

  “And your mother? You will call her?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tell me about her.”

  “She’s a nurse. She lives in Kansas City.”

  “Is that where you’re from?”

  He nodded.

  “Where do you live now?”

  “San Diego. California.”

  “Where is your father?”

  “He died when I was eleven.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged, sitting down next to her.

  “What was he like?”

  “He was a womanizer and a drunk. It was hard on my mom.”

  “Not on you?”

  “It was, but I think she got the worst of it. She had to raise me on her own.”

  “Were you a good boy?”

  “Hell no. I was a nightmare.”

  She smiled at his description. “How so?”

  “I was angry and impulsive. I liked to fight. I climbed everything. I fell and broke bones and drove her crazy.”

  “She must be proud of you now.”

  Hud gave Layah a measured look. “Aren’t your parents proud of you?”

  “I don’t know.” She stared up at the ceiling, clutching the sheet to her chest. Her parents wouldn’t approve of this affair, but maybe it didn’t matter. She’d already fallen far from grace. “I’ve disappointed them.”

  “Because of Khalil?”

  “They also didn’t want me to leave home, or to study English in Baghdad. I was never a good Assyrian girl.”

  “You went to medical school. Isn’t that good enough?”

  “Marrying an Assyrian doctor would have been better
.”

  He shook his head in disbelief. “My mother would love you.”

  She was touched by the compliment, and she didn’t think he gave it lightly. “Did she like your first wife?”

  “She did not.”

  Layah laughed at his wry expression. He curled up beside her, his arm draped across her waist. She studied his hands, which were as hard and strong as the rest of him. His veins stood out in harsh relief.

  “I’ll come back for you,” he said against her neck.

  “Don’t.”

  “Why not?”

  She turned to face him, her throat tight.

  “Is it Ashur? Are you doing this for him?”

  “I want to see him settled, but he’s not my only concern. I can’t bear to hope for something that will never be.”

  A muscle in his jaw flexed. “What if I can get you a visa?”

  “How will you do that?”

  Hud didn’t answer.

  She traced the insignia on his chest with her fingertip. “Do not lie for me. This job is who you are. It is too important to risk.”

  “You’re important, too.”

  She rose from the bed, denying him. “I meant what I said last night.”

  He followed her across the room and grasped her shoulders. “Tell me you don’t love me, and I’ll walk away. I’ll let you go.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. “I don’t love you.”

  He flinched as if she’d struck him. She didn’t think he believed her. She thought he’d kiss her until she admitted the truth. Either that or throw her down on the bed and make love to her roughly, like he had several times the night before.

  Instead he released her and backed away.

  She wished she could explain her feelings to him. It had been easier to confess her love for him in a language he couldn’t understand, or at a moment when she thought they were both going to die. Now they were safe, and she was terrified to surrender her heart. Because she’d been down this road before. She’d waited a year for Khalil to return from the war zone. He’d called every week to say he loved her.

  She couldn’t endure another relationship like that. The distance, the worrying. The fear that she’d never see him again, followed by the cold reality.

  It was better to make a clean break.

  They got dressed in yesterday’s clothes. She’d bought a hairbrush and some toiletries at a convenience store. Getting a bus ticket was as easy as walking to the transit station and calling her parents. They were happy to hear from her. Even Ashur got on the phone.

  “How are you?” she asked him.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Do you like Armenia?”

  “It’s okay,” he said grudgingly. “Is Hudson with you?”

  “He is.”

  “He’s coming to Yerevan?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  Ashur fell silent. She couldn’t guess what he was thinking.

  “I’ll be there soon. Be good to your grandparents, okay?”

  “Okay,” he said, and hung up.

  She returned the pay phone to its cradle. William arched a brow at her teary eyes. Though he couldn’t understand her words, he could read the emotions on her face.

  He picked up the phone to make his own calls. She retreated a few steps to give him privacy. He spoke to someone in a gruff tone, laughing a few times. This was his commander. She stared at his strong profile, her heart breaking.

  He hung up and took a deep breath.

  “How did it go?” she asked.

  “Good. I had to answer a bunch of security questions to convince him it was really me. He couldn’t believe I was still alive after that explosion in Telskuf. He told me what happened to my teammates.”

  “Are they okay?”

  “Yes,” he said, smiling. “I was the only casualty.”

  She smiled back at him.

  “He’s sending someone to meet me in Yerevan tomorrow. I’ll take the bus with you.”

  Some of her tension eased away. They didn’t have to say goodbye yet.

  “I’m going to call my mom now.”

  “Should I...” She gestured to a bench nearby.

  “You can stay.”

  She stood close to him, nervous on his behalf. His mother thought he was dead. She couldn’t imagine how difficult it would be for him to make this call. She hadn’t even been able to tell her parents that Khalil was dead.

  Hud dialed the number and waited. “It’s going to voice mail,” he said to Layah. Then he spoke into the receiver. “Hi, Mom. It’s William. I’m...alive. I’ve been in an Iraqi prison, but I got out, and I’m coming home.” He had to pause to clear his throat. “I know this is a shock. You can contact Commander Doheny’s office if you have questions. I’ll call back later.” His gaze met Layah’s, and her eyes filled with tears.

  I love you, she mouthed, as a reminder for him to say those words.

  “I love you,” he said, and hung up.

  They stared at each other for a long moment, sharing the experience. She didn’t know if he realized she was speaking the truth. She’d denied it before, but she couldn’t deny it now. She was desperately in love with him. The pain she’d hoped to avoid was unavoidable. Hearts didn’t make clean breaks.

  He got a money transfer from his commander. They ate breakfast at the station. When the bus came, they boarded it together. She rested her head on his shoulder as they passed through a series of small towns. They hadn’t slept much in the inn last night. They slept on the bus instead. They reached Yerevan at sunset.

  “Stay with me tonight,” he said, kissing her hand.

  She agreed without hesitation. Yerevan was a modern city, full of small luxuries. He had a pocketful of cash to spend on incidentals. They went shopping first. While he browsed for men’s clothes, she found a simple dress and some pretty lingerie.

  After he paid for their items, they had a casual dinner at the food court in the mall. Most of the women weren’t wearing hijabs. She marveled at the sight of so many hairstyles. It was a completely different world here.

  “What are the women like in America?” she asked.

  “Depends on where you go.”

  “In California they are all blondes in bikinis, no?”

  He smiled, drinking his tea. “There are brunettes in bikinis, too.”

  “I changed my mind about you making love to another woman.”

  “Oh?”

  “Now that I know how you do it, I don’t want to share.”

  He laughed at her possessiveness. “This problem is easily solved by you coming to California. You’ll look great in a bikini, and I’ll never be with anyone else.”

  She regretted steering the conversation into dangerous territory. They were having a nice time together. It was like a casual date. She didn’t want to spend their last night arguing. She had better things to do with him. “I can’t imagine wearing a bikini. I feel self-conscious about my uncovered hair.”

  “I love your hair like that.”

  She touched her flyaway locks. “You do?”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You aren’t shy about your body with me.”

  “That’s different. It’s private.”

  “You’ve never worn a swimsuit?”

  “I have, but it was a long time ago.”

  “Sounds like you’re overdue for a vacation. I’m overdue for a vacation.”

  “Where would you go?”

  “I wanted to go to Turkey.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “No. The climbing there is supposed to be world-class, and I like traveling to far-off places. Right now, I’d rather hang out at home, though. I live near a beach called Sunset Cliffs. It’s gorgeous.”

  She
knew what he was doing. He was trying to convince her to come with him, but there was no way she’d get a visa unless he lied about her involvement in his kidnapping. She wouldn’t ask him to do that. Even if she did, what kind of woman went halfway across the world for a man she’d known only a few weeks? Falling in love with him was foolish enough. They were both emotional from yesterday’s near death experience. They’d been through hell together. These feelings would fade after he left. She hoped.

  They found a nice hotel in a quiet area a few blocks from the mall. While he ducked into the shower, she called her parents to let them know where she was. She expected her mother to ask a dozen questions, but she didn’t.

  Layah hung up the phone, shrugging. Then she took her turn in the shower. She bathed and brushed her hair, smoothing out the tangles. The lingerie she’d purchased was black lace. When she came out of the bathroom in the new bra and panties, William’s jaw went slack.

  He stood, wearing only a towel around his waist. She gave him a little fashion show, turning in a circle. He whistled appreciatively.

  “Too shy to wear a bikini, but not this?”

  She followed his gaze to the mirror on the vanity behind her, which displayed her mostly bare bottom. He skimmed his hands along her sides, where lace met flesh. “We are not in public.”

  “Good thing,” he said roughly. He cupped her buttocks and squeezed. “I’d get arrested for lewd behavior.”

  It was clear that he liked her curves, and she felt the same admiration for his body. The sight of him in a towel gave her hot flashes. He seemed to get stronger every day. He was in excellent health, for a man who’d been held captive. She explored the contours of his broad shoulders and well-developed chest. Her fingertips trailed down his flat abdomen. He’d kissed her belly last night. It was only fair that she return the favor.

  She couldn’t have a real relationship with him, but she could give him another night to remember before he left.

  He inhaled a sharp breath as she dropped to her knees. She pressed her lips to the trail of hair below his navel. Then she traced its path lower, to where his erection jutted at the front of the towel. She pulled the damp terry cloth away. He was magnificent, long and hard and thick.