Second Chance SEAL: A Bad Boy Military Romance (44 page)

I
t was
a beautiful Sunday morning in the suburbs as I tracked dangerous terrorists through the well-manicured front lawns.

Fortunately it had rained the night before, which meant they had left tracks. Not easily visible, but enough for me to get a sense of their general direction.

They had cut across her neighbor’s lawn and headed through that backyard, cutting across to the street behind Tara’s. There they went onto the sidewalk and fortunately left a few muddy boot prints on the concrete.

From there they cut across another lawn, left more footprints, but the trail eventually went dead another street over. They probably got into a car at that point and drove off.

I looked around. There was a single house on the corner, a cute little thing with a single old car in the driveway. I headed up its front path and knocked on the door.

I waited a minute, and slowly the door opened.

A little old lady with frizzy white hair was looking out at me.

“I’ve already found Jesus, if that’s why you’re here,” she said.

I grinned at her. “No, ma’am, that’s not why I’m here.”

“Good,” she said. “I always hate turning religious folks away, but I’ve got a cup of coffee to drink and a paper to read.”

“I just need one second, if you don’t mind.”

“Talk fast, young man.”

“Was there a car parked out front of your house? Maybe left between five and ten minutes ago.”

“As a matter of fact, there was,” she said, sounding annoyed. “A big white van. If they were your friends, tell them they’re not welcome to park out front of my house.”

I repressed a smile, keeping a serious face. You had to hand it to the elderly; they were cranky and curious, which meant they were great for spotting out people and things that didn’t belong.

“Can you tell me anything about them?”

“Just saw one boy driving. Looked like an Indian fella. He just sat in the car. Then I heard the doors open and shut, and then they drove off.”

“Did you see how many there were?”

“No, I didn’t. Are you done?”

I couldn’t help but smile. “I’m done. Thanks for your help.”

“Have a great day.” She slammed the door in my face.

I grinned to myself as I headed back to Tara’s house.

Although I hadn’t caught them, I had learned a few important things. First, I was reasonably sure that Omar wasn’t working alone. It was my guess that Omar was the one the old lady had spotted behind the wheel. Omar would stand out too much in a white, middle-class neighborhood like this one, especially in a place like Indiana. There probably were only a few thousand Indians in all of Indiana, and people tended to take notice of people who looked unfamiliar.

Which meant that the three separate boot tracks leading up to and away from Tara’s house were likely Omar’s accomplices’. I couldn’t be sure that Omar only had three people working with him, but he’d definitely brought three this morning.

Finally, I knew he was being careful. He knew I was around, which meant he couldn’t risk any more obvious and direct actions. Dropping a picture off at the front door and then running away was probably the extent of his confidence.

Still, this situation was getting worse. Omar was definitely working with a local cell, probably local people who could blend in pretty easily.

This whole thing felt strange as I made my way back toward Tara’s house. Why was Omar coming after me through this girl? He knew who I was and where I lived. I understood that he likely didn’t want to risk coming at me directly, since I wouldn’t be such an easy target. He wanted to go after the girl, since right now she was my biggest weakness.

But why get an entire local cell involved? He was taking an enormous risk just to get some revenge. Sure, I’d killed plenty of his comrades back in Pakistan, but he was a smart man. He knew that he was more valuable to the cause alive, and coming after me was begging to get killed.

Plus, he was risking local American jihadists, which weren’t exactly common. Every natural-born American who was turned toward jihad was an enormous success for The Network, and although there were many of them out there, there weren’t enough that they could risk any of them getting captured, killed, or identified.

It all just felt so strange to me. I leaned up against Tara’s garage, hands in my pockets, running through the situation in my mind.

But I just kept coming back to Tara and Mason. They were the key to all this, or at least they were the key to me right now. Although I barely knew Tara, and barely knew my son, I was quickly finding that I would do anything to keep the both of them safe. Just because I didn’t know about Mason didn’t mean I could simply walk away from my fucking responsibility.

I knew what it was like to grow up without a father. I didn’t wish that fucking shit on anyone, and I wouldn’t let that happen if I could avoid it.

Worse than that though was the way I felt around Tara herself. Fucking stupid, was how I felt. Stupid, and my cock was constantly rock hard, just begging to fuck that incredible pussy again and again.

I shook my head, getting my shit together. I couldn’t fantasize about her, not when the risks were so high. Even though I could easily take out Omar’s entire cell, I realized that I was going to need backup. I was just too distracted by Tara and Mason, too interested in getting to know them, and in getting a taste of Tara’s tight pussy again.

I pulled out my phone and dialed a number. It rang and rang but didn’t go to voicemail.

“Come on,” I grumbled, not surprised that he wasn’t picking up.

Finally, the line clicked to life. “What?” he groaned. “What do you want?”

“Morning, Travis,” I said.

There was a short silence. “Hey, cap,” he said. “Didn’t know it was you.”

“Since when did you disconnect your answering machine?”

“Fuck, I don’t know. Maybe a few days ago. Time blurs together when you’re not out saving the country, you know?”

“Yeah, soldier, it sure as fuck does.”

“What can I do for you, cap?”

Travis was the second in command of our team. He was an expert in espionage, counter-surveillance tactics, and sniping. Plus, he was one of the few men I trusted with my life implicitly and without question.

“I’m on a mission,” I said.

“I thought we were supposed to be on vacation.”

“Plans change. Listen up.”

I gave him a quick rundown of the situation. I started with the package from The Network, told him briefly about Tara and Mason, and finished up with recent events.

“Holy shit, cap,” he said when I was finished. “You’re a fucking daddy.”

“Don’t I know it,” I grumbled.

“How’s it feel?”

“Strange,” I said. “Not sure it’s really hit me yet. Been too busy with Omar Hooth.”

“Well, what do you need from me?”

“I want you to get your ass out here as soon as you can.”

“Fuck, you’re killing me. You want to tear me away from my bender so that I can hunt some fucking terrorist scumbags?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“Great. Be there in a few hours.”

“Sending you my location. Call when you’re near.”

“Roger that.”

We hung up. Travis was in Chicago, and he was probably nursing one hell of a hangover. If there was one thing SEALs liked to do when they weren’t out killing America’s enemies, it was getting drunk and fucking.

I wasn’t an exception to that.

I pushed off the garage and headed inside. Tara was probably waiting for me, terrified. I headed up and knocked on the nursery door. “It’s me,” I said.

I heard her unlock the door and open it slowly. “Quiet,” she said. “He fell asleep.”

I gestured for her to follow me. She shut the door behind her and we went down into the kitchen. She turned the baby monitor on and sat down while I started to clean up the mess I’d made while cooking breakfast.

“When will your parents get back?” I asked her.

“Soon,” she said.

“I think we should tell them when they get here.”

She sighed. “Okay. If you think that’s the right move.”

“I don’t want to, but Omar is working with a local cell, and who knows what their plan is.”

“How do you know?”

“There were multiple tracks leading to and from the house.” I decided she didn’t need to know about the grouchy old lady.

“Okay,” she said. “Fine. But I want to tell them myself.”

I looked at her. “Are you sure?”

“Of course. They’re my parents.”

“Might be easier if I did it.”

“You’ll be there. You’ll explain it all to them. But they’re my parents and my mess, so I’m the one who tells them.”

I was impressed. She could have easily passed this shitty task off to me, but instead she was taking responsibility for it. Not a lot of people would be willing to step up like that.

It only showed me how strong she was. I already knew she was an impressive person just for raising a small child on her own and for going back to school, but she had an even deeper strength inside her that I realized I was only beginning to see.

“Okay then,” I said. “We’ll do it your way.”

“Good. I like getting my way.”

I grinned at her. “Don’t get used to it, princess. You’ll find that you like doing what I tell you to do.”

“You think so?”

“I sure do, princess.”

“So far the only thing you’ve made me feel is scared for my life.”

I laughed and moved toward her. “We both know that isn’t true.”

“You can’t just order me around you know.”

“I’m the SEAL Team captain. You’re going to want to obey my orders.”

“Oh that’s right, military man. You’re just so good at what you do. Right?”

“Damn right. Remember the way your body felt when I pressed my tongue against that clit?”

“No,” she said, but I grinned. I could see her cheeks turning red.

“Sure you do. I know you still touch yourself at night remembering the way I made you sweat, the way my cock filled your tight cunt to the brim and made you scream my name.”

“Emory,” she said.

“Exactly. Just like that.”

“No, Emory. I think my parents are home.”

I grinned at her and nodded. “Yeah. That’s their car.”

“Let me do the talking.”

“It’s your show, princess.”

She made a face. “And stop calling me that.”

I grinned hugely at her. “No thanks.”

I went back to cleaning up, my cock hard as hell. I loved the look on her face when I talked dirty to her, both surprised and loving every second of it. She acted like she was this nice girl, but I knew the truth underneath all that polite, Midwestern bullshit.

She was a fucking animal. That night she showed me her true colors. She loved fucking, loved having my cock deep between her legs, and she could barely pretend otherwise.

I was glad she was taking point on this parents thing. I would have done it, but now I was fucking distracted by thoughts of fucking her up against the kitchen counter.

I wanted to hear her beg for it, hear her say my name again.

Good thing Travis was coming soon. If I couldn’t stop thinking about my cock slipping deep into Tara’s wet cunt, I was afraid I’d make some stupid mistake.

The girl was under my skin, and I fucking liked it.

M
y stomach was
a pit of nervous buzzing as my parents walked into the kitchen. If they were surprised, they didn’t show it as Dad shook hands with Emory.

“Good to meet you, son,” Dad said.

“Likewise, Roger.”

Dad squeezed Emory’s hand and inwardly I cringed. He was giving Emory his best intimidating look, which wasn’t very intimidating. Emory was a good three inches taller, and although he weighed less, Dad’s weight was fat whereas Emory’s weight was muscle.

“I hope you’ll be sticking around for a while,” Dad said.

“I will be, sir.”

I smiled. Dad would like that military “sir” stuff.

“Very good.”

“Actually, guys,” I said quickly, “we need to talk.”

“Is everything okay?” Mom asked me.

Dad let go of Emory’s hand and took a seat at the table.

“Mom, why don’t you sit with Dad.”

She frowned. “Are you two getting married?”

Emory laughed. I shot him a look and he grinned back, keeping himself under control.

“No, we’re not getting married,” I said.

“Why not? You have a baby together,” Dad added.

I wanted to absolutely strangle him.

“Guys, please listen. Mom, sit.”

She sat down next to Dad.

“Really, honey, if you two want to get married, we’d be very happy.”

I clenched my jaw. “We’re not getting married. Will you just listen?”

“You’d marry our daughter, right, Emory?” Dad asked him.

I almost strangled him right then and there.

“Dad!”

“What? I’m just asking.”

Emory could barely contain his laughter.

“Listen to me, guys,” I said. “This is serious.” I glanced at Emory, and he got himself under control, giving me his best serious face.

“Go ahead, sweetheart,” Mom said.

“Look, I’m in trouble. We all might be in trouble actually.”

“What happened?” Dad asked.

I glanced at Emory. “What can I tell them?”

“Everything you know, they can know,” he said.

I looked back at them. “You’ll find this hard to believe, but please, just listen with an open mind. And keep in mind that Emory didn’t want any of this to happen.”

And so I told them. I started with how we met in India, which they mostly knew already. I left out the amazing sex, of course, since the baby pretty much implied that had happened, but I told them Emory was a SEAL doing anti-terrorism in Pakistan and about how the terrorists had been watching me ever since the resort.

I told them about The Network, about the pictures, everything. I even told them about feeling like I was being watched in the park, which I only told part of to Emory. Through the whole thing, Emory stood there and let me speak, never once correcting me or contradicting me.

By the end, my parents were staring at me with openly disbelieving looks.

“And that’s it,” I said. “We got another photograph this morning. Emory thinks we’re all in serious danger.”

They were silent for a second as I stopped talking. Finally, Dad began to chuckle.

“Roger,” Mom said, “knock it off.”

“What? It’s a crazy story; I’ll give him that.” Dad looked at Emory. “How’d you get her to believe in all this?” he asked.

“It’s the truth, sir,” he said.

“You expect me to believe that terrorists are after my daughter because you’re some elite Navy SEAL?”

“Yes, sir,” he said.

“I saw the pictures, Dad. The man I described matched the man Emory told me about.”

“Pictures can be faked. Descriptions can be made up.”

“Roger,” Mom said again.

“I’m just saying,” he went on, “we don’t know this man. He could be some crazy person for all we know.”

“Explain how he was impossible to find,” I said. “Explain how he just shows up here out of the blue.”

“Fake name and Google.”

I sighed, shaking my head. I knew Dad wouldn’t believe it, but I didn’t think he’d be so aggressive in arguing it.

“What about you, Mom? Think I’m just an idiot getting fooled by a con man?”

“No,” she said softly, “I don’t.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Emory said.

“Sorry, son,” Dad added, “but I just don’t buy any of this. If it were true, why not call the police?”

Emory looked at me and I sighed, nodding to him.

“The Network is extremely dangerous, sir. If word got out that they were operating on American soil, there would be a panic. I can promise you that. My commanding officer ordered me to keep this under wraps, and so I’m tasked with handling this myself.”

“Convenient,” Dad said. “Who is this commanding office of yours?”

“Colonel Blackfire,” Emory said. Then he grinned. “And I’m aware that sounds like a fake name, but believe me, this is very real.”

“Okay then. Let’s say for a second that you’re not lying. What are we supposed to do with this information?” Dad asked.

“Nothing,” Emory said. “You just need to sit tight. We’re telling you only in case something actually happens. I have members of my team coming to help out with this situation, and they’ll be able to keep you two safe while I watch over your daughter.”

“Convenient,” Dad muttered.

I shook my head and felt my anger starting to rise. I couldn’t blame him for being skeptical, but I could blame him for not believing his daughter.

I wasn’t an idiot. I knew what I knew. I trusted Emory completely, and although this was an incredibly strange and insane situation, I knew it was very real.

“Listen, Dad,” I said, surprised by my own angry tone. “I get that you don’t believe it, and frankly I don’t blame you. But your daughter is telling you that this is real, so you better start playing along.”

Everyone stared at me for a second.

“What?” I asked finally.

Emory just grinned at me.

“Okay,” Dad said. “Okay, honey. I don’t believe a word of this, but if you need us to just keep doing what we normally do, well, I can handle that.”

Dad stood up from the kitchen table.

“One more thing,” Emory broke in. “I’d like Tara to stay with me tonight at my hotel.”

Dad raised an eyebrow. “Do you now? Of course you do.”

“Your home isn’t secure, sir. I don’t believe The Network is after you or your wife, but they are after Tara and my son.”

“And so dragging my daughter off to your hotel room is supposed to keep her safe? You sound like a lunatic.”

“Enough,” Mom said loudly. “Roger, enough. Tara, if you want to go stay with Emory, you can do what you want. You’re an adult. And, Roger,” Mom said, speaking loudly so that he couldn’t interrupt her, “if you say one more thing, I swear I won’t cook your food for a month. You’ll starve to death and we both know it.”

He opened his mouth to argue, took a deep breath, and then stopped himself. He sighed, sounding defeated. “Well, you’re an adult, like your mother says,” he said and then walked out of the room.

I glanced at Emory but couldn’t read the expression on his face. It was somewhere between awe and pity, and it made a thrill jump down my spine.

“Thanks, Mom,” I said.

“I can’t say I exactly believe you either,” she said to Emory, “but I do trust my daughter. Now, did you two eat?”

I’d never felt more proud of my mother than in that moment. She wasn’t a weak woman or anything like that, but I loved that she was willing to stand up for me even when it seemed like I was going insane.

And frankly, I just needed someone to believe me. I needed someone to trust that I wasn’t going crazy, because I’d been feeling pretty crazy the last day or two. But if my mother could believe Emory, or at least believe in me, then I could keep moving forward.

Moving forward right to Emory’s hotel room.

* * *

“
I
don’t know
why I agreed to this,” I said.

“Because you know it’s the right move,” he said. “Or at least you trust me enough to do it anyway.”

“Maybe,” I said. “Though I would use ‘trust’ loosely here.”

“Maybe you just want to get inside my bedroom again,” he said. “Maybe you’ll take any excuse to get close to me, to let me undress you slowly, let me press my fingers against that nice, wet clit.”

“Maybe not,” I grumbled.

We were standing in the elevator of his hotel, and I had to admit that I was surprised by how nice it was. Apparently, Dayton had a single decent hotel in the area, though I had always assumed it was full of motels and motor lodges.

I was carrying Mason in his little car seat, while Emory carried my bag plus everything we’d need for Mason. He definitely had the heavier load, but he didn’t seem to mind it at all, whereas I was struggling just to keep Mason aloft.

“Want me to take him?” Emory asked as the doors opened and I stepped out into the hall.

“I’ve got it,” I grumbled at him.

He just grinned at me as he walked past, and we headed down toward the end of the hall.

It was a big double door we stopped outside of. There was no number, just the word “SUITE” engraved on a plaque next to the key card reader. Emory swiped a card through it and opened the door.

I stepped inside and took a sharp breath.

The room was huge. It was like the whole downstairs of my parents’ house, plus another room, probably the bedroom. There was a couch, some chairs, a table, a little kitchen area, a big screen TV, and a little desk. Everything was richly furnished in brown and gold, with a leaf and vine motif running around the top edges of the walls.

“Holy crap,” I said, setting Mason down. “Are you serious?”

“Very serious.” Emory placed the bags down on the couch and shut the door, locking it and sliding the chain down along the catch.

“This is the nicest hotel room I’ve ever seen.”

“Working for Uncle Sam has its perks sometimes.”

“The government is paying for this?”

“Not officially,” he said, grinning. “But yeah, they are, in a way.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It would bore you to tears if I explained.” He walked over to a little bar that was built into the desk. “Drink?”

“Yeah, okay,” I said.

I checked my watch. It was pretty late, definitely well past Mason’s bedtime. I needed to get him down soon or else he was going to be very cranky the next day.

I hated leaving my parents. Emory had wanted to get out of the house immediately, but I’d refused, not until his team member or partner or whatever showed up. We had to wait hours, but finally I saw a black van parked across the street, which Emory assured me was his guy Travis.

I didn’t get to meet Travis, because Emory hustled us out of there instantly. I felt better knowing that someone was watching over my parents, though, and it was definitely worth waiting.

“I have to get him down,” I said to Emory.

“Okay,” he answered. “Bedroom is back there. You can stay in there. Need any help?”

“I’ve got it.” I grabbed the bag and carried Mason back into the bedroom.

And of course, the bedroom was nice as hell. There was a huge bathroom attached to it with a standing shower and a big Jacuzzi tub.

“Thanks, Obama,” I mumbled as I set up Mason’s little travel crib. Once that was done, I gently picked him up from the car seat, careful not to fuss him around too much, and gently placed him inside the crib.

He was sleepy already, which was a blessing. Normally he would be upset about being somewhere new, but he was too tired to fight it.

I watched as the little guy slowly drifted off to sleep before setting up the baby monitor and walking back into the other room.

Emory was sitting on the couch, his legs kicked out on the coffee table, sipping something brown from a tumbler.

“What are you drinking?” I asked.

“Whisky. Grab yourself something.”

I walked over and poured filled it with ice and tonic water. I came back and sat down on the other end of the couch, curling my legs underneath myself.

“Mason asleep?”

“Yeah, fortunately. He went down easy.”

“He seems like a good baby.”

“He can be pretty easy, but he has his moments.”

Emory cocked his head. “Most babies do I’m guessing.”

“Don’t have much experience with infants?”

“If I’m honest, Mason is the first baby I’ve ever held. I’m not exactly around infants in my line of work.”

“Still. Cousins, sister, nobody in your family had a baby?”

“I don’t have much of a family. My team is my family now.”

“Huh. I feel like I’ve always been around babies.”

“Got a big family?”

“Big enough. Some cousins. No siblings though.”

“One more thing we got in common.”

“I don’t know if we really have much in common, Emory.”

“Oh, I disagree with that. We’re both Midwesterners, and we both want each other.”

“Speak for yourself.”

“Okay then. But I’m not lying when I say you’re soaking wet right now. I bet you can’t stop thinking about how we’re alone, very, very alone.”

He was absolutely right, but I wasn’t going to admit it. We were very alone, and that thought excited me. I didn’t want it to, but I knew with Mason sleeping we could be doing absolutely anything.

Like maybe letting his lips and tongue work my pussy again.