by Linda Barlow
I’d almost forgotten about my promise to my mom. I glanced at my watch, fuck. It was six-thirty and I told her I’d be there at six. When I reached into the pockets of my cammies and grabbed my phone, yup, it was lit up like a glow stick with texts from my mom. “Shane, are you coming? We’re sitting on the patio. Please, this is important to me.”
I turned to my buddy Pat. “Hey, I have to run up to the Del and say hi to my mom. Be back in ten.”
“No worries, man. I got your six.” I smiled; my brothers always had my back. We were more than Teammates—we were bonded for life. These men would do anything for me, and I’d give my life for them.
My camel-colored boots treaded through the sand. It was so fucking hot today my body couldn’t tell if I was in San Diego or Afghanistan. My long-sleeved blue tee shirt clung to my chest. The tourists were wearing sundresses and khakis even though it was the beginning of December. Yup, I’d fit right in.
I walked past the Del’s wintertime ocean view beachfront ice skating rink. I scanned the patio, searching for my mom. The outdoor seating area was huge, all tables facing the glorious Coronado sunset. The grand resort loomed in the distance, the place that L. Frank Baum based Oz on: Victorian architecture, red roofs, white wooden cabanas. Everything looked even grander at Christmas time, decorated with 100,000 glittering lights, a humungous Christmas tree. I’d spent so much of my life staring at this building during BUD/S; rich playboys relaxing on the same beach where SEAL recruits were being tortured never sat right with me.
My mom waved and walked over to me. I almost didn’t recognize her—instead of wearing her usual uniform of cargo shorts and tank tops, she was dressed in white linen pants and a flowy pink blouse. I don’t think I’d ever seen her in pink. Fuck, this guy was already changing her from a Montana salt of the earth woman to a So Cal socialite.
“Shane. You made it! Thank you. They can’t wait to meet you.”
They? He brought his daughter? We walked toward the table and a silver-haired man stood up to greet me. Turned away from the table, was a girl—with hair as bright as a flame.
Cassie?
No fucking way. It couldn’t be. I studied Henry’s face—same fair skin, same emerald eyes, same shape of mouth.
For a cruel second, I thought this was some kind of joke set up by my buddies, roping my mom into it. But I quickly dismissed that thought—none of them had ever met Cassie, and though my mom definitely had a mischievous streak, this was no prank. This was just straight fucked up.
Her head whipped around when her father put his hand on her shoulder.
My Cassie.
One glance at me, and her face went pale.
“Shane, this is Henry. And his daughter, Cassie.”
“Nice to meet you, Henry.” I shook Henry’s hand.
“Nice to meet you, son.”
I walked around the table to Cassie and kissed her on the cheek. “Pleasure to meet you,” I said out loud. Then I whispered under my breath, “I can’t wait to fuck you again.” She bit her lip and her chin quivered.
Fucking hot. She looked even sexier than I remembered. Her skin was tanner, her hair longer, her lips fuller. The image of her riding my cock, her face flushed with pleasure, flashed through my mind.
What were the odds? There were hundreds of thousands of chicks in San Diego and I happen to find and fuck the daughter of my mom’s boyfriend. Guess both Cassie and her dad liked to go slumming.
One of the Victorian carolers the Del hired was singing “Deck the Halls” with her hands in a fur muff—the only muff I wanted to put my hands in was Cassie’s.
Fuck—I had wanted to see her again, but not like this. Though I had to admit, I found this whole situation funny as shit.
I pulled the chair out next to Cassie and grabbed the menu. Cassie’s ears were turning red. The tablecloth covered our legs, and my hand clamped down on her thigh. I was making her uncomfortable. As for me, I was just happy to be sitting next to the girl who had starred in my fantasies for the last nine months.
A waiting waitress ran over. “Can I get you something?”
My mom interjected. “Oh, I don’t think he can stay very long.”
I had no intention of exiting this scene early. I texted my instructor buddy Pat to tell him I was taking a dinner break. “No mom, actually I’m starving. I’ll have the New York Strip, medium rare and a martini. Make it dirty.”
Chapter 11—Cassie
It was as if I was seeing everything through wavy glass. Or through a face mask at 50 feet below the surface where the depth of the water makes everything too dark. Shane, the man I had stranger-fucked or maybe hate-fucked. Whom I’d stupidly given my number to. Who’d never called, never texted.
Shane the asshole, Shane the dick. Shane the bad boy stud who still made guest appearances in my most erotic dreams.
Through my fog, I was a little slow to get it. Shane wasn’t just strolling through the restaurant, maybe checking out the chicks for his next mark. He was here, with us, being introduced as if Molly knew him. Which, of course, she did. As his blue eyes burned into mine, I saw how similar those eyes were to Molly’s blues. And his mouth—god damn, it was her mouth. Shane was Molly’s son.
My stomach lurched in horror. I’d had sex with Molly’s son. Molly was with my Dad now. So that was—Jesus, I didn’t know exactly what that was, but it was enough to make my head swim and my eyes glass over.
What if they found out? I had to keep it together. If I passed out here at the table, everybody would know something was wrong.
Oh god, oh god, oh god. How had this happened? I’d fucked exactly one man in the past year and he’d been Molly’s son?
I’d learned during the meal that the jerk was a Navy SEAL. Which must be one of the reasons why Molly had been so happy to meet my dad. Her son was located in San Diego with his Team. San Diego was where he lived and worked and preyed on foolish women like me.
“Would you like another drink?” the server asked me.
My glass wasn’t entirely empty, but I gulped it down now. “Please.” My voice didn’t sound like me. My heart was pounding so hard I could hardly speak.
He had kissed my cheek! I was still burning from the brief contact. Pretending he didn’t know me, huh?
God, I was so tempted to blurt something out to prove that he did know me. He knew my whole damn body. I had an image of him looming over me, his pecs bulging as he held his weight on his raised arms and thrust his hips against mine while I writhed beneath him, driven into a frenzy by the quick, hard pressure of his cock.
But I controlled myself before I could make some wiseass remark that might reveal the whole messed-up situation. How bad was it? Shane and I had fucked once. Well, maybe it had been more like four times, plus a couple of blowjobs and some other stuff. It had been a busy night.
But my dad and his mom had been seeing each other for months. They were fucking. Did that make what Shane and I had done that night incestuous?
I think all the blood had drained from my head when he’d first appeared, but it must be back now because my cheeks were hot and I was blushing. That happened too often. My red hair, I guess.
Not incest, I told myself. Shane and I weren’t related. We were adults. We hadn’t grown up together or anything weird like that. There was nothing wrong in what we’d done. Stupid, yeah, but not wrong.
How were we supposed to know that Molly and my Dad were about to start a relationship?
Through the fog I started being able to make out what everybody was saying. Only a few seconds had passed, but the way my brain had processed it all, it seemed as if time had gotten sticky. Everything slowed to a crawl. I guess I’d smiled and nodded and made the appropriate noises while the introductions were going on, but now I was going to have to participate in the conversation. And I saw at once that Shane wasn’t going to make this easy for me.
“So, Cassie—that’s your name, right—what do you do for a living? Or do you stay at home and play golf
with your father?”
“I’m a grad student at UCSD. I study marine biology.” He was stroking my thigh under the tablecloth, his fingers slowly drifting up toward my crotch. I wanted to jerk away, but I was self-conscious about making any sudden movements. Everyone was looking at me.
“Marine biology? So you must know all about the laws concerning marine animals around here, right? I hear there’s a real problem with the tourists and even some of the researchers from SeaWorld and Scripps messing with the sea lions over in the Children’s Cove. Thinking they can save the sick or injured ones, instead of letting nature take its course.”
If looks could kill, asshole, SEAL or not, you’d be dead meat. “And you, wow, you’re a Navy SEAL? Are you even allowed to talk about that? One of my friends was going out with a SEAL, and he told her he scraped barnacles off boats for a living.”
I noticed that Dad and Molly were giving us funny looks, so I dialed it down a bit. I couldn’t let them find out. That would be horrible in so many ways.
I tried to smile at him, as if I were impressed with his SEALiness. I wasn’t. Big deal. So that’s why he was buff and hard-assed and full of himself. I knew the SEALs did dangerous missions in hot spots all over the world and I respected them for their service. They were amazingly versatile and talented—only the best of the best passed the rigorous requirements of SEAL training. But I’d also heard from a couple of friends I knew who’d dated Special Forces types that a lot of them were arrogant, aggressive and prone to screwing around. They had tough jobs, no doubt, but all the pressure they were under probably didn’t make them good boyfriend material.
Boyfriend material? Who was I kidding? Shane had been a quick and dirty fuck, not a boyfriend.
And now? Now I didn’t know what the hell he was.
It got worse. When all our drinks had been refreshed, Dad and Molly exchanged a meaningful glance. He reached over and took her hand in his. It was then that I noticed she was wearing a huge rock on her left hand. I was pretty sure that wasn’t the sort of ring a Montana fishing guide could afford.
Oh my God. I realized what was coming. My glance cut to Shane’s as I briefly panicked. He looked oblivious. Typical male. He might have superior night vision and be able to leap tall buildings in a single bound, but wouldn’t even notice a diamond ring.
“We had a special reason for inviting you both here today,” my father said. “We have an announcement to make.”
He and Molly beamed at each other. A frown line deepened Shane’s forehead. Yeah. He was getting suspicious at last.
“I’ve asked your mother to become my wife,” Dad said, looking first at Shane and then at me, “She has said yes, and—” I caught a flicker in Dad’s eyes that revealed that he was nervous about my reaction. “—and I hope you’ll be able to share my happiness.” He looked back at Molly and grinned at her, “Our happiness.”
I swallowed. My stomach was rebelling against it, but I knew what I had to do. No matter how I felt inside—and I was a complete and utter mess—I couldn’t hurt my dad. I had to be supportive, no matter what it cost me.
I reached across and patted his free hand. “Wow. Congratulations to both of you.”
Shane stood up from the table. His lips were tight and his eyes were angry.
Shane, the Navy SEAL.
Shane, my prospective stepbrother.
Chapter 12—Shane
Married? Cassie was gonna be my fucking stepsister? Fuck my life. No way, this was like one of those bad romantic comedies my mom used to force me to watch.
“Why would you want to get married? You’re going to move out here? What about your business in Montana? Our house?”
My mom rubbed her white pants and gave Henry a sharp glance. “Well we haven’t worked out all the details yet. But no, I won’t be giving up my business. We’ll be having a thoroughly modern marriage, with some long distance commuting built in. The important thing is that we love each other.”
I gazed at Cassie, her lips parted. She took a nervous sip of her drink. I had another use for her lips. Fuck, there I went again. I had to get the fuck out of here.
But I needed to talk to her now, alone. She was almost hiding behind her hair, which hung over her face like a curtain, as if she was desperate for a way out of this mess.
I waited until our parents were distracted and leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Meet me on the beach in five minutes.”
“I got to get back to work.” I glanced down at my mom’s blinding diamond, which clearly cost more than I made in a year risking my life to fight terrorists. Was this what she wanted now? Designer clothes, flashy jewelry, mansions on the beach? What was wrong with her life, our life? Simple, hard working, filled with purpose and in harmony with nature. Mom was a fishing guide in Billings. Now she was going to fill her days spending this jackass’s money?
I threw forty dollars on the table. He wasn’t going to pay for my dinner.
“Shane—” my mom grabbed my hand.
I held my hand up to stop her. “Congrats, Ma. I’ll call you later.” Her eyes pleaded at me, as if to beg me to be nice to Henry, not to ruin her chance of happiness.
I gave him a curt nod. “Henry.”
“Cassie, it was nice to meet you. Welcome to the family.” My words dripped with sarcasm.
“You too.” She looked up at me through her eyelashes, like she had the night we met at the cove. But this time she wasn’t looking at me with lust, her eyes were confused, hurt even.
I walked toward the beach and waited on a nearby bench, out of sight of the patio. Cassie showed up a few minutes later.
I could almost see the outline of her thong through her dress, her nipple buds hard in the ocean breeze. I needed to feel her wet pussy clench around my cock.
I stood up and clutched her shoulders, pressing her body into mine. Her thin dress clung to her, and despite my anger, my only thought was ripping off her panties and taking her right there in the sand. She attempted to jerk away, her nostrils flared.
“From your reaction at dinner, you didn’t know about our parents’ bullshit, either, right?”
“I didn’t have a clue. But even if I had known, I had no way of contacting you. I gave you my number, but you didn’t call.”
“I was deployed. We can’t text during firefights, despite what you see in the movies.” But even if I hadn’t been deployed, I would never have called her. We were too different—way too different.
“For the record, Shane the SEAL, the only reason I agreed to leave the restaurant with you was to set down some rules.”
“Rules?” I laughed openly at her. “You’re giving me rules?”
“Yes. We will probably see each other at family events. You and me, whatever the hell that was, can never happen again. And Dad and Molly can never find out. Promise me you won’t say anything.”
I laughed. “Listen, sweetheart. If I want to fuck you, and you want me, which you do, nothing is gonna stop me.”
“Go to hell.”
But I wasn’t done talking to her yet. I grabbed her hand and pulled her along with me we continued down the beach.
“Dammit, Shane, the only reason I’m not running away from you is because I’m not leaving until you swear to me that you won’t tell your mom about that night. Or anyone else.”
I released her hand and playfully pinched her. “What makes you think I haven’t bragged about you yet? Our night was epic.”
“So the rumors I’ve heard about SEALs are true—you guys are a bunch of misogynist pricks who can’t keep your mouths shut.”
My Teammate Kyle noticed my return first. “Is this the redhead you won’t shut up about?”
I raised my eyebrows at him. “Sure is. Cassie, meet my buddy Kyle. Just found out that Cassie is going to be my stepsister.”
A look of horror flashed on her face.
Kyle let out a deep laugh. “Stepsister? That’s a good one, Instructor Tyler. Laughing my fucking ass off. Let me know how that
works out for you.”
One of the recruit’s eyes lifted toward Cassie, a full body eye fuck.
“Hey Pinhead, are you checking out my stepsister?”
“No, Instructor Tyler.”
“You calling me a goddamn liar? Get in plank.”
The guy dropped into the sand. I grabbed a hose and blasted him with water. Fuck him, no one was gonna look at Cassie while I was around.
“If your body isn’t straight, put your ass in the air.” I yelled at the motherfucker. But I wished Cassie were the one writhing in the sand, her ass in the air as I took her from behind.
Cassie stood back, her shoulders dropped. I was probably scaring her but this was my job.
I dropped the hose. I had to get back to work. I turned around to her.
“I doubt they’ll get married. I know my mom—she’s too independent. Been single so long she won’t go through with it. It will implode and then we’ll never have to see each other again.”
Her eyes scanned the beach. “I don’t know, Shane. I mean my dad has never been serious about anyone except my mom. She passed away years ago. They seem pretty happy.”
My gaze followed hers out to the shore. Fuck, one of my recruits was in trouble. “Hey, don’t go. Wait here for a second.”
I ran down the beach; one of my men looked like a ghost. Lips chapped, biting his lip, clutching his body.
I pulled him out of the water, took my flashlight out and shone it in his eyes. His pupils weren’t focusing. Signs of hypothermia were setting in.
“How many fingers am I holding up?”
He didn’t respond.
I lugged him over my back and ran up the beach to a tub we kept to warm our recruits in. I immersed him. After a few minutes in the tub, his eyes started to focus.
I repeated my question. “Fingers?”
“Two, Instructor Tyler.”
“Get the fuck back down there.”
The guy scampered down the beach like Cassie’s hurt sea lion. I picked up the microphone. “You’re wet and cold—you’re going to be wet and cold for a week. You better all start laughing.”