Stranded with the SEAL (9 page)

T
revor was overcome
with the need to possess her. Telling her about the ring and dress had been the most difficult things he’d ever done, yet here she was, choosing to share herself with him even after she learned the truth.

He grabbed her hips and pressed against layers of fabric, finding the softness between her legs and grinding his hardening cock against her there.

She let out a gasp.

In his hands he held fistfuls of the wedding dress she’d bought to marry another man, and he had a desperate need to claim her as his own. To prove her clothing held no power to keep them apart, that what they shared was stronger than fancy beads and lace or any promises that came before this moment.

He lifted his head and saw the arousal on her flushed face, then kissed down the side of her neck to her bodice, tracing its edge with his tongue.

Olivia murmured and reached down, arching her back as she pushed the fabric down to expose her lace-covered breasts. The sight of her dark nipples inside the gossamer bra made him growl with need. He had to taste her, had to feel her against his tongue, press his lips into the soft flesh of her breast. He took her into his mouth, suckling her through the garment. She keened loudly, her hips bucking wildly against him.

He breathed against her there. “You’re so beautiful.”

She pushed the cups of her bra all the way down, exposing the nipple, wet and erect from his mouth. He took what she offered and latched firmly on to her skin, drawing her nipple deep into his mouth and sucking out a drop of her sweetness. She went wild.

He could feel his cock straining against his shorts, so anxious was he to be inside her. Swooping down with one arm, he picked her up from behind her knees and carried her to the bed, the fullness of her skirt nearly reaching his face. She hit the bed with a bounce and pulled him down on top of her.

“I need you inside me,” she said breathlessly.

Leaning away from her, he found the hem of her dress and began lifting the layers up over her waist until he bared her legs and tiny underwear. He could barely see her face, only her smooth, shapely legs and the junction that waited for him to enter, surrounded by layers and layers of tulle.

He ran his hands up her legs until he rested between them. He inhaled the scent of sex and knew he’d never smelled anything more arousing. He unfastened his belt and unzipped his fly, instantly growing even bigger, more eager, more excited.

“Roll over,” he commanded, and she did.

He found the top of the zipper on her dress and slid it down, over the small of her back and the top of her ass. Then he peeled it off of her, freeing her body from the confines of the fabric, and sliding off her underwear.

He rolled her back over, glorying in the sight of her completely naked. He was going to be inside her, stroking her most sensitive flesh, and he knew he’d never wanted anyone more. He sunk his fingers into her soft curls and found her opening dripping with dew, just as he was.

Had a woman ever been so eager for his touch? So desperate to be as close to him as he was to her?

“God, you are so lovely,” he said reverently. “And so ready for me.” He gently teased her clitoris and let his finger slip lower. “So sweet and wet.”

She thrust her hips forward, her sex pursuing his hand. “Please, Trevor!”

He slipped his fingers inside her and she bucked and moaned. He chuckled devilishly. “Is that what you want?”

“No.” She met his stare. “I want you inside me. I want you to be inside me when I come.”

The thought of her convulsing around his shaft overwhelmed him. Moving quickly, he shucked off his pants and briefs and settled himself between her legs, loving the way she opened to him. He kissed her, teasing her mouth with his tongue, and when she responded, he pressed inside her in one long thrust.

She yelped, her body going rigid.

“Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head. “No. Just give me a second.”

He felt her relax around him and clench him tightly, then relax again as she drew him in even deeper than before. The feeling was sweet torture, and he began to move inside her.

Her eyes flew open. “Don’t move,” she said, sliding up and down his cock in one tantalizing movement.

He began to pant. “You’re killing me.”

She smiled from half her mouth. “I’m just getting warmed up.” She arched her back, then pressed her hips forward, taking his whole length. “Now.”

She didn’t have to tell him twice. Trevor buried his face in her neck and began to move. Each thrust was better than the last, the pressure inside him building with every stroke. It didn’t matter who she was engaged to, he was going to explode.

He pulled out. “Get on your knees,” he commanded, and watched as she did as she was told, turning her ass toward him and arching her back so that its roundness and the crease between her swollen sex stood out.

He could have been a lion mounting his mate, so primal was his need to have her. He entered her roughly and she called out loud. He reached around her torso and grabbed a breast in each hand, squeezing her hard while he pumped into her from behind. “I don’t care what you remember. You’ll always belong to me.”

The sound she was making changed as her body clenched him tightly and she came fiercely around him, the spasms of her orgasm bringing on his own, bright and blinding. He came deep into her sweetness, retreating and thrusting again.

They stayed like that, fitted together, her body sucking at him as aftershocks rippled through her. There was just the sound of their breathing and the soft sounds of pleasure as they slowly came back to earth.

Trevor lifted himself off her back and took in the sight of his body still nestled in hers. This was right. Every touch, every movement, every sensation they shared. This was right, no matter who was waiting for her outside of this cabin.

“Trevor,” she said on a moan.

Olivia rested her elbows on the mattress and her ass tilted upward. In the faint light of the room, he caught the shadow of something down low on her left cheek.

A tattoo.

He narrowed his eyes and froze.

Brooke.

Brooke Barrons. The movie star. Olivia was so plain, so real, so naturally pretty, he never associated her with the overdone starlet. But now the resemblance was both obvious and startling. Everyone who stood in the checkout line at the grocery store knew about Brooke Barrons’ engagement. She’d said several times on national television that she would not reveal the identity of her fiancé until the wedding was complete.

He traced the outline of the tattoo with his finger. “Livy?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re not going to believe this, but I think you’re a movie star.”

L
ogan O’Malley wiped
snow from the bent steel frame of Trevor’s truck and frowned.

“Well?” asked Jax.

“Striations on the steel indicate explosives were detonated inside the vehicle.”

“After the crash or causing the crash?”

“There’s no way to tell for sure. C-4 is relatively stable, but you can get it to detonate if you try hard enough. Depending on the car accident, it might have ignited.”

Cowboy whistled from the other side of the vehicle. “Looks like Hawk was packing more than C-4. I’ve got enough munitions over here to poke holes through half of Texas.”

Jax turned slowly in a circle, his eyes taking in the frozen landscape, interrupted only by the HERO Force chopper still idling in the distance. He didn’t like being so damned obvious and visible this close to Steele’s territory, but the storm had limited their options.

These cars had clearly fallen from farther up the mountain, though where exactly was far less clear. Hawk had been on his way up Warsaw Mountain when this accident had sent his truck and the other car back down into this ravine.

But where the hell was Hawk? Acid churned in Jax’s stomach, burning in the spot where he’d once had an ulcer. When they got to the last known coordinates transmitted from his cell phone, they didn’t even see the cars. They’d had to dig through two feet of snow just to uncover the wreckage, and another three feet with their hearts in their throats as they worked to uncover their friend.

Jax had a lot of time to think while they dug through that snow. Thoughts of his history with Hawk, their time on the Teams together, how instrumental Hawk had been in starting HERO Force.

How important Hawk had been in his own life, more like a brother than a friend.

Jax knew what Ralph’s death had done to Hawk, and he knew the damage he himself had done by refusing to avenge Ralph’s death. He’d made a phone call today before they left headquarters. A phone call that made him free to go after Steele as he hadn’t been free to before. The irony was almost too much to bear. They were digging for Hawk’s dead body, and Jax could finally give the go-ahead to kill Steele.

But Hawk wasn’t there.

Thank God. Jax could have wept, he was so relieved. He couldn’t stand the blood of another HERO Force member on his hands, as Ralph’s was. That was a stain Jax could never wash off.

And poor Jessa…

He slammed the door on his thoughts. There was a time and place to think about Ralph and all that had transpired, and it usually involved Jax being alone in the dark with a bottle of whiskey.

Matteo climbed out of the chopper with a laptop in his hands and made his way to Jax. “Satellite imagery of Warsaw Mountain taken last winter. You can see Steele’s compound at the top, just over eleven miles from here, but I count seven other buildings on this side of the mountain, the closest of which is only one-point-two miles north-northeast from here.” He handed the papers to Jax.

“So that’s the closest shelter, but what are the chances he would have found that one?”

“The other buildings are each more than ten miles from this location, sir.”

Cowboy approached, his hands on his hips as he waited. “There’s blood in the truck. Enough to indicate an injury, though not necessarily anything severe. There are marks on the dashboard where the left leg would have been, and several drops on the carpet and the door.”

“So he was hurt,” says Jax. “What about the other car?”

“No blood, no obvious signs of injury prior to the explosion and impact.”

“Someone must have been driving it.” Jax furrowed his brow. “Or maybe it was abandoned on the road due to the storm.”

Cowboy nodded. “Possible.”

Jax looked up the mountain again, his eyes focusing on the first ledge above their current location, some hundred feet higher than they stood. “A lot of things are possible. Let’s focus on probable for a minute.” He pointed to the ledge. “That’s probably our accident scene. How far is it from there to that cabin you were showing me?”

Matteo nodded. “Just over a mile. A straight shot up the road.”

“We go there first,” said Jax. “If we don’t find him, we go to the next most likely place he could be.”

“My money says he’s at the top of the mountain,” said Cowboy. “If Hawk had a day’s breath in him, he’d have gone on up there and done what he came here to do.”

Jax glared at him. “Eleven miles is too far to go on foot in these conditions, especially if he’s injured.”

Cowboy moved to walk past him. “I don’t know. Where I come from, y’all can make a pig fly if you want to badly enough.”

O
livia woke
to the sunlight warming her eyelids and stretched languidly on the bed, her foot running into Trevor’s. She smiled, curling up to his side and smelling the spicy scent of his body — a body she’d gotten to know well over the last twelve hours.

Now that the fire was out, there was no reason to forsake the comfort of the bed and the space it offered in favor of the couch in the living room, and she was enjoying the freedom to stretch out nearly as much as she was enjoying being too close to Trevor’s body.

They’d made love time after time through the night, dozing in each other’s arms and taking turns waking to the other’s passion.

Trevor’s arm tightened around her and she sighed. Sex with him was so much better than sex with Marco. Her eyes popped open.

Marco.

Her heart began to race, a cold sweat breaking out on her palms. Her mind tentatively picked up her memories of Marco and flipped through them with shaking fingers. She could remember his face, his hands, his naked body.

His penis.

Trevor had a cock, but Marco had a penis. She’d never found Marco’s penis interesting or attractive, but she’d taken Trevor’s cock in her mouth and sucked him deep into her throat like the most luscious candy.

She looked at her ring finger, so empty without the large engagement ring she’d finally gotten used to seeing there.

It was all coming back to her like waves flooding the beach, covering toys and chairs and towels while people ran for safety.

Marco, her benefactor. She and Marco got engaged after Ellie and Frank died. Just thinking about it whet her grief again, the shock of losing her best friend, Ellie, and her best friend’s father to carbon monoxide poisoning in this cabin.

Their deaths had thrown her into a deep depression.

And now she knew they’d been murdered.

But by whom?

Marco had been so helpful, so understanding, knowing she didn’t want to stay in the cabin she inherited and moving her in with him, never even hinting he was romantically interested until the day he proposed.

She’d said yes in a heartbeat. She’d needed him so much, desperately needed someone to lean on now that Ellie and Frank were gone.

Trevor moaned softly in his sleep.

She was afraid to move, scared even her breathing would wake him completely and force her to look him in the eye before she’d soaked up all that was happening. Her horror was screaming from her pores, and she knew without a doubt he would take one look at her and know something was terribly, terribly wrong.

She needed to remember. She needed to remember it all.

She had been a virgin, and she and Marco were going to wait to have sex until they got married, but she’d gotten scared. What if sex with him was unpleasant, and she didn’t discover it until it was too late? He was older than her, and she worried the age difference would be too much.

So she’d forced the issue, coming into his bedroom that first night in her frilly pink gown and lying beside him in clear invitation. The first time had been painful, Marco’s long, skinny dick poking in and out of her while he grunted, but over the next few months he proved himself a competent lover, or so she’d believed.

Now she knew she’d never really been turned on, never been truly wet or swollen with desire for a man. The pleasant feelings Marco had brought out in her body had more in common with a back rub than they had with the crazed and desperate desire that was summoned and fulfilled by Trevor.

She closed her eyes, remembering how she stared at the calendar in total panic, counting down the days until her marriage to Marco. She was booked on Saturday Night Live for publicity, to lead everyone on about who she might be marrying, each appearance making her less able to breathe than the last, and Marco more gleeful.

SNL marked the two-week point. Two weeks until the wedding.

She’d felt like she was going to die.

But why? What had happened to make her change her mind?

Trevor kissed the top of her head and she squeezed her eyes shut.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he whispered, pulling her more tightly against him. He rubbed up her arms and over her back and buttocks, lightly scraping her with his nails. Then he was massaging her thighs, easing them apart and moving his leg between them.

Heaven help her, she still wanted this man. Even after everything she remembered, she didn’t want him to stop. What did that say about her? Her entire world had just exploded into chaos, and she was happily spreading her legs for just one more fuck before the sky fell down.

His head moved to her breast and he took her in his mouth, licking and sucking one nipple while he tended the other with his hand, and she couldn’t help the way her head pushed back against the pillow. She didn’t want this to stop, didn’t want reality to intervene and force him away from her.

His knee came up, pressing against her most sensitive places, and she thrust her hips forward.

He kissed along her neck, his lower body lining up with hers, the head of his cock just touching the entrance to her body. Trevor thrust inside her and she called out, her body slightly sore and super sensitive, the mixture of pleasure and pain more arousing than she would have thought possible.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked.

“God, no.”

He thrust into her harder than before and she called out again, their bodies perfectly synchronized.

The waves that had been flooding her memory faded into the background as her body took control, welcoming her lover into herself, and a fierce storm burst inside her. He thrust into her faster and faster until he came, too, his orgasm making him shudder and shout.

They collapsed onto the bed, their bodies still joined together.

She had to tell him.

If they were going to be honest with each other, she had to let him know she’d regained such an important part of her memory. Marco. The man she’d been planning to marry.

And what would become of them now? Could she possibly go on seeing Trevor while engaged to Marco, or would she have to choose one or the other?

Someone knocked harshly on the front door and their eyes met in surprise.

“Who could that be?” she asked.

Trevor hopped off the bed, pulling on his jeans and zipping them over his naked body. “Stay here.”