Dagger's Edge (SEALs On Fire)
Thank you for purchasing this Wild Rose Press, Inc. publication.
Dagger’s Edge
by
Brenna Zinn
SEALs On Fire Series
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Dagger’s Edge
COPYRIGHT © 2012 by Brenna Zinn
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by
Diana Carlile
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewilderroses.com
Publishing History
First Scarlet Rose Edition, January 2013
Digital ISBN 978-1-61217-777-9
Published in the United States of America
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author of this work of fiction
acknowledges the following trademarks:
Corvette: General Motors LLC
Popsicle: Conopco, Inc.
Captain America: Marvel Characters, Inc.
Dedication
To the women and men of the armed forces.
I cannot thank you all enough for keeping me,
my family, and our country safe.
PRAISE FOR AUTHOR
Brenna Zinn
AND HER BOOKS
“This sexy, short story had me on the edge of my seat from the start.”
~Aster, Whipped Cream Review
“Readers beware…your fingers may get blisters.”
~Jacquelyn R. Ward, The Romance Studio
“The sex is blistering hot, low-down and dirty…”
~Cocktail Reviews
Chapter One
Dean Gregory, code name Dagger, only had himself to blame for being back on Key West, even though he’d sworn he wouldn’t come back unless the military sent him. His last visit to the island had shaken him to the core and the memories still haunted him. But his pride had once again stomped on his common sense, leaving said common sense little more than a whimpering pile of pulp at the back of his skull.
The moment his buddies had doubted his friendship with Brice Benson, Hollywood’s current “it” actor, Dagger’s pride had flipped the switch in his head from cool and collected to just plain stupid. Right then and there in the middle of the barrack mess hall, he had called Brice and put the two-time Oscar nominee on speaker phone for everyone to hear.
Reflecting upon his act of extreme idiocy, Dagger tightened his grip on the steering wheel of his friend’s cherry red 1957 Corvette convertible as he turned onto Truman Avenue, Key West’s main drag. Of course, Brice had offered his mansion on the island to a bunch of Navy SEALs looking for a place to blow off some steam for a few days. The man was nothing if not a chest-thumping, dyed in the wool American who loved the military.
“Take my house, guys. I’ll be in Spain for two weeks, so the place will be sitting empty. There’s plenty of room, plus the boat, the jet skies, and the cars. Have at it guys.” Dagger swung his arm in front of his chest imitating a boy scout’s atta-boy as he finished mimicking Brice’s enthusiastic invitation.
Had that been the end of his conversation with Brice, things still would have been fine. He and six of his SEAL buds could hit the island, relax, and maybe find some hot local girls to curl up next to at night. Most importantly, he’d have some down time to contemplate his future and make some important decisions about his life. But when he had taken his best friend off speaker for a personal chat, Brice had dropped the bomb.
“Check in on Mia, Dagger. She’s still working at Butch’s marina and living alone in our parents’ house on the island. I’m sure she’s fine, but I can’t help worry about her.”
Brice’s request, simple as it may have sounded, had twisted Dagger’s belly into a dozen knots. Not out of concern for Mia Benson. Oh, hell no. That annoying little brainiac was too smart to get into any trouble, or at least get caught. Most likely her job at the marina was a covert cover for her real plans to somehow take over the entire island and make it her personal kingdom. Soon everyone on Key West would be shouting, “Hail, Mia” at the top of their lungs.
No. Seeing Mia again was a bad idea for very personal reasons.
Three years ago when he’d last seen her in the Keys, he damn near got blue balls for wanting her so badly. Luckily, she’d opened her sensual, though incredibly exasperating mouth. Sure, he could have easily stopped her provoking comments by kissing her. But, there were lines between him and Brice, invisible and unspoken lines, he wouldn’t cross.
Having an all night sex-a-thon and doing it in every room in the house as well as the car and the back yard with his best friend’s sister was definitely one of those lines. When the line was crossed, it could never be uncrossed. The deed would be done. Brice’s friendship meant far too much to jeopardize for a chance to tap Mia’s ass, no matter how cotton candy sweet it looked in a pair of jeans.
You keep telling yourself and the world that Brice is what’s keeping you from Mia. Eventually even you’ll start to believe that whopper of a lie.
Unfortunately, after knowing the red-headed know-it-all for twenty years, the pot simmering with both aggravation and craving for her was coming to a boil. The things he wanted to do to her, the things that kept him up at night, were enough to make him insane. If he didn’t end up wringing her neck from pure irritation from just talking to her, he’d have her over his shoulder and on their way to her bedroom for the lay of the century. Because that was what their fuckfest would be. Something for the history books. And once he started with her, he wouldn’t allow himself to stop until she was out of his system for good. He couldn’t continue living with her constantly invading his thoughts, his desires. He was a SEAL, damn it. He had to focus on his missions and protecting his buddies, not to mention his own hide.
Dagger parked the Vette alongside the white picket fence framing the front yard of the Benson’s conch house. The old two story home, a combination of Victorian and Bahamian style architectures, had been built by someone in the Benson family over a hundred years ago and had stayed in the family since. Though the home was ancient, the paint job wasn’t. The last time he’d been here, the house had been a bright yellow. Now a light blue with bright white gingerbread trim, the place had never looked better.
The sound of music drifted out from somewhere inside the house as soon as Dagger killed the engine. Strolling up the steps to the covered veranda, he felt the twangy beats of some country song vibrating over his skin. He knocked on the door several times, knowing good and well no one inside could possibly hear his arrival over the din, then let himself in.
Having vacationed with Brice and Brice’s family in Key West every summer from the time he entered junior high until Dagger joined the Navy, there weren’t too many nooks or crannies in this house he didn’t know as well his own home in Wisconsin. Finding Mia would be easy. Since all the French doors to the back porch and pool were wide open, he decided start his search in the back.
The sooner I’ve said hello, the sooner I can say good-bye. Then we’ll both be safe from each other. “
I’ll find Coyote or Jonesin’ and we can check out this year’s crop of beach bunnies. Lord knows we can all use a good time after our last mission.” He nodded while he thought through his pep talk. “Then I’ve got to figure out what I’m doing with the rest of my life. I promised the Master Chief I’d have an answer about my reenlistment when I get back. I’ve put the decision off for too long already.”
Surrounded by mature palm trees and shrubbery, the expansive backyard completely shut out the rest of the island while providing pockets of shade, keeping the pool and anyone lounging nearby cool. At the end of the pool, he spotted Mia reclining in the shallow sun deck. God help him, the siren with sparks flying from her long copper hair didn’t have on a stitch of clothing other than a pair of large sunglasses.
Dagger stood frozen, unable to avert his gaze or move his feet. The scene before him, Mia leaning back on her elbows, her full breasts heaved out as if tempting the sun to touch them, could have been from one of his dreams. Further down, the shimmering water provided a shifting and fragmented view of dark auburn curls. She looked like a sexy mermaid whose tail had morphed into curvy legs and feet.
A bone chilling shiver quaked from his shoulders down his back as horror battled with desire. Mia was taboo. Forbidden fruit he shouldn’t even consider.
What are you doing? She’s Brice’s little sister.
Yah, like you haven’t told yourself that before.
But she certainly wasn’t little anymore. Only two years younger, she was now twenty-seven and looked every inch a woman. Long, tanned legs, flat stomach, and tits that would more than fill his large hands, the pretty girl he’d known and avoided like the plague had certainly grown up. Seeing her there, so fucking beautiful and so fucking enticing, charged his batteries and had his cock as hard as a battering ram.
Damn it, man. She’s Brice’s
sister!
Get the fuck out of here. Pronto.
Attempting to slip back inside the house without alerting her to his presence, Dagger slid back one foot and then another without turning around. When he thought he’d reached the French doors, he turned on his heel and slammed into a huge potted fern sitting on a metal stand. His breath caught as the plant stand shifted precariously onto one of its three legs. As though time had suddenly altered to slow motion, Dagger watched helplessly while the weight of the fern succumbed to gravity. It fell and shattered with one ear-piercing crash, sending pieces of fern and white glazed pottery across the pristine porch.
Dagger swore under his breath and looked back to the pool. Mia remained where she lay, though her sunglasses now topped her head like a sun goddesses’ crown. She picked up a remote control and pressed a button. The loud country music immediately silenced.
“I thought you SEALs are supposed to be quiet like ninjas.” She tilted her head toward him and raised her hand to her forehead, shielding her eyes. “Did you miss class the day they taught everyone how to be stealthy? Or did your commanders just take pity and pass you because they know you have the IQ of a squirrel?”
Her verbal jab landed a direct hit exactly where she had to know it would hurt him most. His pride. Her favorite target. Since her freshman year in high school when she had attended some of the same classes he did due to her above-average intelligence, she’d used her superior smarts to dog him whenever she could. Negotiating with a troop of Al Qaeda terrorists was easier than trying to carry on a conversation with her. The woman was clever. Much too clever for the likes of him.
Dagger took in a lungful of air and placed his mouth on safety while recanting the mantra learned in training.
I am not letting this evolution get the best of me.
“Hello to you, too, Mia.” Though he tried to prevent it, he couldn’t keep sarcasm from slipping into this voice. Nor could he stop looking at her amazing breasts. “Nice to see you.” Truer words had never passed his lips. The little she-devil looked damned amazing.
She stood and tendrils of wet red hair fell over her shoulders. Water danced down her bronzed skin, seeping into intimate crevices he wished he could lick dry, then make moist all over again.
He mentally shook his head.
You’re here as a favor to Brice. Get your head on straight. Find out how she’s doing, then leave her just the way you found her—untouched—at least by you.
“Nice to see me, too?” Mia stepped out of the pool. Her hips rocked like a boat on gentle waves as she sauntered to the house. “Do you like what you see, Dean?”
Dean. When was the last time someone had actually called him by his real name? Dagger had used his code name in the military for so long, he’d almost forgotten he had another name. Another life.
Refusing to bite her bait, Dagger focused his attention on the dirt and pottery spewed across the porch. “I made a mess over here. Why don’t you throw on a towel or something and get me a trash bag? I need to clean this up.” He lowered to one knee and picked several pieces of pot shards. Anything to avert his hungry stare from the luscious buffet of her body and hide the hard-on pressing against his shorts.
