SEAL My Home: Bad Boys of SEAL Team 3, Book 2 (SEAL Brotherhood Series 9)
Read SEAL My Home: Bad Boys of SEAL Team 3, Book 2 (SEAL Brotherhood Series 9) Online
Authors: Sharon Hamilton
Tags: #romance, #Military, #Suspense, #SEALs
Sharon Hamilton
I always dedicate my SEAL Brotherhood books to the brave men and women who defend our shores and keep us safe. Without their sacrifice, and that of their families—because a warrior’s fight always includes his or her family—I wouldn’t have the freedom and opportunity to make a living writing these stories. They sometimes pay the ultimate price so we can debate, argue, go have coffee with friends, raise our children and see them have children of their own.
One of my favorite homages to warriors resides on many memorials, including one I saw honoring the fallen of WWII on an island in the Pacific:
“When you go home
Tell them of us, and say
For your tomorrow,
We gave our today.”
These are my stories created out of my own imagination. Anything that is inaccurately portrayed is either my mistake, or done intentionally to disguise something I might have overheard over a beer or in the corner of one of the hangouts along the Coronado Strand.
Wounded Warriors is the one charity I give to on a regular basis. I encourage you to get involved and tell them thank you:
https://support.woundedwarriorproject.org
.
Copyright © 2015 by Sharon Hamilton
Kindle Edition
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. In many cases, liberties and intentional inaccuracies have been taken with rank, description of duties, locations and aspects of the SEAL community.
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Other Books by Sharon Hamilton
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H
e didn’t have
to be a Navy SEAL to understand Megan had a look about her that told him she’d not yet had her world rocked sufficiently. Special Operator Rory Kennedy figured once he got those big glasses off her and let her hair down, she’d be a beauty. She seemed to try especially hard to look plain and homely. He could see through all of that. Best of all, she liked to read and didn’t like to prattle on like so many of the San Diego crowd. He liked quiet girls who were not full of themselves.
He and his friends had commented often that women who were somewhat bookish and liked to read were the best lays. It was music to his ears when she told him she worked in the big bookstore downtown. That was where their first meet for coffee was arranged. And their second. And their third. She declined all his invitations to do something like lunch or dinner, and he decided he had the patience perhaps others wouldn’t have. He saw a prize under that plain brown paper wrapping and wasn’t going to stop until he got it.
He fantasized getting it on with her in her Santa suit, kissing her with the white moustache, getting her black velvet britches unzipped and pulled down so he could see what color panties she wore.
Does that mean I’m gay?
He answered himself by nearly choking on the latte.
No fuckin’ way I’m gay.
He decided it was the velvet material and the anticipation of running his hand against her smooth thigh and then moving up to her midriff so he could feel her warm cleavage and get lost there.
He never admitted it to his fellow Team guys, but he loved those first encounters with a woman, especially a woman who hadn’t been
awakened
. Experienced women were a turn-off, as were those who wore lots of makeup and always had to be primping in front of a mirror. He liked it awkward for her. He planned to be careful, take it slow. He thought about what it would be like with her, everything fresh, new, and unspoiled. No baggage or track record. Just pure clean simple fun. Surprises under every bit of lace, under every moan she’d make. He loved gentling women, reassuring them they were beautiful, letting them know how much he enjoyed their company. He liked it when they developed the confidence to let the reins out a bit and see how far they’d fly and take him with them. If the truth were known. he wanted to see her desire for him more than he actually wanted to feel it.
It amused him she was dressed this way tonight. It brought back memories of his years growing up. He didn’t believe in Santa Claus when he was a child because there were no pictures of the benevolent St. Nick in the orphanage. He felt like Christmas was something other kids got to experience. Those were the kids who knew what a brother or sister was or what it felt like to be part of a family with real parents.
He recalled that one year the nuns put up a scrawny Christmas tree. Unlike pictures he’d seen in magazines, there were no presents under it. The Sisters removed the sad-looking spruce when Rory and a number of the boys took the glass ball ornaments outside and played catch until they exploded like snowballs.
They’d missed their dinner that night, but it had been worth it, he recalled. Their quiet giggles continued all through the evening. Instead of Christmas carols, they told ghost stories in the corner of the room they shared, secured at night with a sleepy nun sitting guard outside the door until morning. He took pride in the fact that he was part of the
incorrigible boys
, and though the oldest was seven, they had earned a reputation they liked: impossible to live with. They figured if they continued screwing up, they could stay together until their teens and then be a pack of friends “on the outside” as they referred to it. Despite the best efforts of the nuns, the cold, dark structure still felt like a children’s prison. In the five remaining years he lived there, he would never see another decoration reminding them of the holiday.
He angled his head and watched her until she looked up at him across the room, with her pale blue eyes, the dimple at the right of her light pink lips hidden by the glued-on facial hair. He could see the squint of a conspiratorial smile, and suddenly he was as hot for her as anyone he’d ever been with.
She finished the story to the clapping of small exuberant hands and the titters of several mothers who had gathered behind the semicircle of the rapt little audience. She signed some books as Santa, and then stood and straightened up her suit with the fake belly. Her black stretchy pants revealed just enough about her thighs and ass to drive him wild. Her boobs were enormous and having difficulty staying put behind the tight suit obviously made for a small male. He didn’t want to do her in the men’s bathroom, but damn, he sure felt like it. He couldn’t look in her eyes as she came up to him—his mind was so filled with dirty thoughts. Instead, he lowered his gaze to her chest, letting her get a glimpse of his lust for her. He figured it was way past time and she deserved to know his intentions even if he couldn’t tell her yet.
Her girlfriend, Brady’s wife, told Rory just yesterday that Megan was seriously interested in having a good time. Lindsay also whispered the magic words that Megan was very inexperienced and kind of intimidated by Rory, that he’d have to be careful. He knew Lindsay and her little breach of confidence were setting him up, but he didn’t mind one bit. He decided it was time to whisk Megan away to some place dark and dangerous, to help her with whatever fantasies she had about spending time with a SEAL. Whatever they were, he was happy to oblige.
“You want to go somewhere?” she asked. When he stared back into her pale blue eyes he saw fear residing there. He saw that she blushed a glowing shade of rose that made his groin react so fast he almost gasped.
“I’d like that, Megan.” He leaned in closer and kissed her on the ear. “Was hoping you’d be up for something other than coffee.”
She tilted her head and gave him a frown.
He wasn’t sure she’d understood him. “N-n-nothing wrong with coffee, sweetheart. Just thought a little change of scenery would be good.”
She blushed again, and he hoped she was having half the lush red thoughts he was having. Behind a shy smile, she continued softly, “I’ll go change.” Hoisting her backpack over one shoulder, she turned to head to the staff area. He grabbed her arm and pulled her back dangerously close to him.
His voice was raspy, and he was short of breath. “I always wanted to have a date with Santa. Sure as hell never had one when I was growing up,” he whispered. This last part was true. He’d never sat on Santa’s lap or had the luxury of being able to tell anyone what he wanted for Christmas as a child. Like he had a label affixed to his forehead that read, “Doesn’t deserve.”
“This material is scratchy though, Rory.”
“I can help you with that, sweetheart. No worries. I’m very easy to please, especially tonight.” He chased his comment with a smile.
Instantly, Megan’s cheeks flamed and her eyes skittered away from his. Rory did a quick location check around the store to make sure no youngsters had noticed them before he turned back to face her, stepped close enough to feel her body barely touch the entire length of his, and kissed her.
