SEAL Dearest (Navy SEAL Brotherhood Romance Love Story)

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SEAL Dearest (Navy SEAL Brotherhood Romance Love Story) Page 25

by Ivy Jordan


  “Do we need that?” I asked softly as he slid the condom onto the tip of his cock. He grinned, again with a mischievousness that drove me wild. “You haven’t been taking birth control pills, have you?” he asked with a smirk.

  I shook my head. No, I hadn’t seen any in my bag, so no. “Okay,” I gasped, still wondering why I wasn’t on the pill, and if I was, why I didn’t bring them with me.

  My eyes followed his fingers as they unrolled the latex over his bulging veins on his cock. He wasted no time mounting me, pinning me to the mattress between his flexed arms. I parted my legs, letting the heavy cock settle at my entrance.

  I throbbed against the tip of his cock as he pushed towards me. His weight entrapped me beneath him, and the sensation of being pulled so far apart took my breath away. This felt new, not like something I’d done many times before. He leaned down, kissed me gently on the neck as my eyes tightened, and I bit my bottom lip.

  He was inside of me, just barely, and I was already beginning to throb. His dick twitched as my muscles contracted around him, and he pushed harder into me. My hands rolled down his back and to his muscular ass cheeks. They clenched together with each thrust until he made it deep inside of me. We both paused, feeling the pulsations from one another, staring into one another’s eyes, and not saying a word. “Damn,” he exhaled, finally lifting himself from me and leveling for another thrust.

  The sensation of his cock filling me brought my orgasm closer and closer to the edge. He growled, then groaned, and then let out a large sigh. My body tingled with every centimeter he moved, and when he plunged back into me, hard, long, and with passionate force, my body lost control, and my orgasm blasted onto him, squirting his balls and wetting my thighs, making his next thrust less labored. My moans grew louder with each stroke as he smacked into my body. The sweet sound of my juices wetting his cock consumed me, and soon growls from his own pleasure took over.

  Sweat rolled from his forehead, falling onto my chin as we both opened our eyes and locked them onto one another’s. I wrapped my arms around him tightly, pulling his weight onto my chest. I wasn’t sure how I felt. I knew this was the best sex of my life, but I couldn’t remember any other encounters.

  Things were so natural with Isaac; this must’ve been why I fell in love with him in the first place. My heart began to melt a little, and my mind released a feeling that maybe, just maybe, I could have a relationship with this man again, even if I never fully remembered.

  Chapter Seven

  Isaac

  Sex with Maddie was everything I’d imagined it to be, and more. Her body was in fantastic shape, and her muscle control amazing, everywhere. I spent the day after trying to stay close to her, but I kept feeling her pull away. It was Saturday morning now, almost two days since our amazing connection, and I still felt the awkward tension between us.

  I had to leave to meet up with one of my SEAL buddies, a monthly breakfast ritual I normally looked forward to, but not today. I hated to leave, to give Maddie even more space, and possibly allow her to grow even further from me.

  Her small frame was stretched up to her tippy-toes as she reached for the coffee mug on the top shelf of the cabinet. Damn, that body. I wanted more; I needed more.

  “Want some help?” I whispered in her ear, pressed up against her back so she could feel my erection.

  “I got it,” she said, turning towards me, letting me trap her against the counter. Her eyes filled with a strange look, similar to what I’d say was fear. Fuck! I don’t want to scare her off, not after we got so close.

  Her hand trembled as she gripped the mug, and it was clear my closeness was making her uneasy. I stepped back, smiled, and tried to shake off the rejection with some class. My mind was reeling, wondering if she was remembering more and more. Did she remember who the man in her nightmare was? Did she finally see his face? Did she remember me?

  “I’m sorry,” she sighed.

  Her beautiful blue eyes widened as they pierced mine. The sun grabbed glimmers of shine in her hair, making it sparkle in the light. She truly was beautiful. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.

  “Don’t be,” I quickly retorted.

  Her lips quivered into a faint smile. I wanted to lean in, to hug her, kiss her, but I knew that would only make things worse.

  “The other night was amazing,” she proclaimed.

  Okay, so why the cold shoulder now?

  “Yes, it was,” I admitted.

  “I just don’t think I was truly ready for it. I enjoyed it so much, and I needed it at that moment. I felt alone, scared, and in your arms, I felt safe,” she rattled nervously.

  “I understand. I don’t mind being used,” I smirked.

  “I just don’t want you to think it meant I was ready for us to go back to the way it was, because I still have no idea what it was like,” she sighed.

  Guilt rolled over me like a cold shower. My love for Maddie was so strong, and I knew, even so, this was wrong. “I get it,” I replied quickly. Then silence settled between us.

  “I have to head out for a little bit,” I explained, hoping she wouldn’t find it offensive. It had nothing to do with her rejection, although getting away for a bit after it, and away from the guilt I felt, it was a relief to be leaving.

  “Are you going to be okay?” I asked.

  Her face tightened, and I could see the irritation she felt. She’d been trapped in this house for over a week, with no memories, no idea of what to do with herself, and I knew it was making her more than a little frustrated.

  “I think I’ll play on the beach,” she said, her voice strangely content.

  I smiled, leaned in, kissed her gently on the forehead, and headed out the door. I was happy she was going to spend some time on the beach. I knew it wouldn’t churn up any memories, especially since there wasn’t an ocean close to her Portland address. A sigh of relief fell from my throat I was climbed into my Escalade and headed into town.

  Elijah Grant sat in our regular booth inside the small café. The large window allowed me to get a glimpse of him as I pulled into the gravel lot. The place was rundown, old, but the food was pretty good. Elijah said they had the best cup of coffee in the town, and he’d gladly drive a hundred miles to get it. He joked, but he did drive forty to meet me there each month.

  His dark hair was still buzzed short, and he wore a tight flannel that showed off his impressive muscles. To look at him, most would think he was a hardass, but in reality, he was the nicest guy I’d ever met.

  “Look what the cat dragged in,” Elijah shouted as I entered the diner.

  “They’ll let anyone in this place,” I retorted as I slid into the booth seat across from his.

  The waitress, the little red-head that served us every month, was quick to reach our table and fill my cup. “How the hell ya been?” Elijah asked.

  I smiled forcibly and sipped my coffee before answering. It was hot, burning my lips, but I didn’t care. It was better than answering that question honestly. I needed a moment to make sure I could convince him everything was okay.

  “It’s been great,” I choked, shaking my head to kill the burn of the coffee on my lips.

  He chuckled. “No patience. That’s your number one flaw still, eh?” he teased.

  I knew he was referring to our military days. I was the first one out, the first one to rush in, and always the first one to get reprimanded for not slowing the fuck down. My fast actions saved his ass a couple times, and he knew it. I didn’t mind him teasing me; I actually enjoyed it. He was like an older brother to me. I looked up to Elijah; I respected him.

  “I already ordered,” he announced, nodding towards the waitress walking towards us with our plates.

  “Good. I’m starving,” I replied. I wasn’t really, but I was eager to get back home, not only to see Maddie, but to see her in a bikini.

  Three large eggs, over-easy were situated on a pile of biscuits and gravy. Four slices of thick-cut bacon sat on top in the shap
e of a star. “Holy shit,” I gasped as I looked at the plate. “What happened to eating healthy?” I laughed.

  “Fuck, you only live once,” Elijah laughed, already digging into the gravy with his fork.

  Last time we met, he was on a health kick, and he had been for several months before that. I wasn’t sure what changed, but I knew if he wanted to tell me, he would.

  “You look good,” he complimented with a wink.

  “You too; everything going okay?” I asked, pushing for a reason for the artery-clogging plate of food.

  “Nickels died. Massive stroke; he was only thirty-seven,” Elijah said nonchalantly.

  I was shocked. My back pushed against the booth and I stared at him for a reaction but gone none. “So, you think eating this shit will work for us?” I half-joked.

  “He never ate meat. He worked out every day, and he was in better shape than either of us. Life is too fucking short because there aren’t any guarantees,” he spouted.

  I watched him scarf up his food, shoving a bite larger than the last in one after another. “When?” I asked.

  “Last week,” he paused.

  He was in our team, older than both of us, more experienced, and one that helped lead us. I couldn’t believe it. “Yeah. Life is too fucking short,” I sighed, reaching for my fork.

  I listened to him give me details about the funeral and how he left behind his wife and three kids. It was saddening to think he did everything right, but still ended up dead before he even hit forty. It made me think of Maddie. I knew what I was doing was questionable, but life was too short not to go after what I wanted. I knew she was safe with me, safer with me than without. She didn’t have anyone else, no family, and no friends thanks to her abusive ex, so she was better off.

  “What’s going on with you?” Elijah asked.

  I shrugged. “Nothing.”

  “Bullshit,” he boasted.

  “Seriously, I’m okay,” I protested.

  His eyes narrowed on me, and his lips tightened. I knew he could see right through me. It wasn’t just the Nickles thing; there was more, and he could sniff it out.

  I wasn’t ready to discuss Maddie with him, or with anyone, even though I thought he might be the only one to understand.

  “You got something on your mind,” he pushed.

  I sighed. “I do. But, I’m not ready to talk about it,” I answered with my only acceptable, honest response.

  “When you are, you come to me. You know I’m here for you,” he insisted.

  I knew he was, but I wasn’t positive if he could help me with my situation. I’d dug a hole pretty deep.

  Chapter Eight

  Maddie

  The beach was beautiful and serene, but even so, it left me feeling empty and alone. The waves washed over my toes, burying my feet in the sand as they pulled back into the ocean, and I struggled to remember something, anything.

  I closed my eyes and relaxed in my beach chair, letting the tide wash up around my hips and splash to my belly. The water felt cool and refreshing against the hot Miami sun.

  The image of the man who hit me strolled back into my mind, but this time he was kissing me, holding me, telling me he was sorry. Who was this man? I still couldn’t see his face, only a dark shadow of where one should be. His voice was strangely familiar, but I knew it wasn’t Isaac’s. Had I cheated on Isaac with this man?

  “Excuse me, miss,” a male voice shook me from my daydream. My eyes opened to a tall elderly man leaning over me, his eyes filled with concern. “The tide is coming up. I was afraid you’d fallen asleep,” he explained his intrusion on my peacefulness.

  I quickly got up, pulling my chair from the surf where it was nearly buried. My cheeks burnt with embarrassment at the realization that I’d almost drowned. “Thank you,” I gushed, walking back towards the dry sand.

  “I haven’t seen you out here before; you live around here?” he asked.

  I pointed to Isaac’s house with a smile. “Isaac Lewis’s place?” he asked, almost untrusting.

  “Yes. He’s my fiancé,” I stated firmly, even though I wasn’t sure that I believed it quite yet.

  “I wasn’t aware he was engaged,” he said apologetically. “I’m David Martin, your neighbor,” he pointed to the blue house next to Isaac’s and extended his hand to mine for an introduction. The name felt familiar. Rob, Rob; did I know a Rob?

  “Maddie Grubbs,” I said, still feeling an odd disconnection with that name. Maddie sounded right, but not Grubbs. “It was nice to meet you. Thanks again,” I said, folding my chair and heading towards the house.

  I could feel his eyes on me as I walked through the hot sand. The grains burnt my toes, but I didn’t want to stop to put on my sandals. Why didn’t this man know me if he lived next to us, and why did the name Rob give me butterflies when I heard it?

  I stepped up onto the large deck leading to Isaac’s house and turned to see the man watching. I waved and went inside. He obviously didn’t believe that I belonged here. That didn’t feel right. He should’ve seen me around a lot if I visited as much as Isaac said.

  I stepped inside, the cool air immediately sending goosebumps to my sun-scorched skin. I started looking around the place, noticing there weren’t any pictures of me and Isaac together, nothing that showed us as a couple, and nothing that seemed familiar to me at all.

  I changed into dry clothes and hung my bathing suit over the shower rod to dry. I snuck into Isaac’s room and studied the area, trying desperately to remember something. My mind was blank, the room as strange as the first day I saw it, and no signs of a woman living here, or even staying on a frequent basis.

  The plainly decorated large room had gray pillows on a sofa, a leather chair near a mahogany desk, and little else to decorate it. This felt like a cold room, one that didn’t feel familiar to me, or like one that should.

  You're being paranoid, Maddie.

  I grabbed the remote to the TV, hoping the noise from a show would drown out all the doubts and paranoid ideas streaming through my mind. Dr. Phil was on, talking to a mother of a heroin-addicted teenager. I clicked to a sitcom, then to the news, and then finally landed on a cooking channel. I didn’t know what I liked to watch, and nothing seemed interesting to me.

  The woman on the screen rubbed olive oil over the carcass of a chicken and then stuffed cloves of garlic, twigs of thyme, and nearly an entire stick of butter in the opening where it’s guts had been removed. What is that called? Should I know? Did I cook? Do I even know how?

  Tears began rolling down my cheeks as I struggled with all my lost memories. I didn’t know who I was anymore, and I feared I’d never find out.

  The door opened, and Isaac walked in, immediately rushing to my side. He knelt on his knees in front of me while I worked on trying to calm my sobs. “Baby, what’s wrong?” he asked.

  “I don’t know who I am,” I sobbed.

  His arms wrapped around me, holding me securely until my crying calmed to a sniffle. I leaned back, pulling from his embrace and stared into his green eyes. They looked honest, trusting, but what did I know? I knew nothing.

  “Why doesn’t the neighbor know me?” I asked, feeling a little stronger, and determined to get the answers I needed. “And why is there nothing in this house that looks like I’ve ever been here before: pictures, plants, anything?” I added.

  Isaac pulled back, leaving his hands on my knees. His eyes stared into mine, a strong sense of fear oozing from them. My guts twisted in anguish as I waited for his answers.

  “I don’t even talk to the neighbors,” he said softly.

  “He knew your name,” I spouted.

  “Which neighbor?” he asked.

  I pointed to the house on the left where David Martin said he lived, and where he said he’d never seen me before. “That’s David Martin. He’s only here in the winter, and I barely speak to the man,” he explained.

  I sniffled again, wiping the last tear from my cheek. That made sense, at least to a
certain degree. “But, what about the house looking like I had not decorated anything?” I pushed.

  Isaac smiled, the corner of his lips curling with a sweetness that made my nipples tingle. “You never asked to decorate before, and all the pictures I have of us are from when we were kids,” he laughed. “You’re a very private person. You never wanted to flaunt our relationship before,” he added.

  It didn’t make sense. No one was so private that they didn’t take a picture with their fiancé. “Please tell me about myself,” I pleaded, hoping maybe something he said would trigger a memory.

  “Hold on,” he said, getting up and leaving the room.

  I sat there, still filled with confusion, and waited until he returned. He held a leather photo album in his hands and then sat down beside me on the couch. “See if any of this jogs a memory,” he offered, handing me the album.

  I opened it up, noticing the first picture that he’d shown me when I first got to his house. “You showed me this,” I sniffled.

  “Keep looking,” he insisted.

  I pushed to the next page and stared at the pictures. “Is that Portland?” I asked, feeling a strange connection to the background. “That school, is that me?”

  “Yes. And that’s me,” he smiled, pointing to a cute little blond boy.

  My hair was longer, and my face sunburnt across the nose. I giggled at the resemblance after spending the morning on the beach. “Wow,” I gasped, feeling a little better about all my doubts.

  There were over a dozen photos of Isaac and myself, but the last one was from our senior year, nothing more recent. He was tall, handsome, and held his arm around me closely. My smile was wide and bright, and it was obvious we were close. “Is this when we started dating?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “I’d fallen in love with you long before that, but you had big plans, and I needed you to fulfill them without me weighing you down,” he replied.

  My heart swelled at his selflessness. “So, when did we start dating?” I asked.

 

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