Bound & SEAL'D: A Bad Boy Navy SEAL Romance (10 page)

“I like you too, pretty lady.” I frown when he calls me that, even though I think it's cute. “You know, there's one gift I got you that I haven't shown you yet.”

I smirk. “If you pull your dick out, I swear I'm going to punch you.”

He slowly unzips his pants, but then stops himself and laughs, “No, it's not my massive cock. Then again, that's a pretty damn good gift,” he says. “I got a hefty sized check from everything that happened over… you know where. And, I figure since I'm not ever going to use all of it, I could give it to you. You know, so you can pay off your car and all that insurance bullshit.”

I'm shaking my head in disbelief. “No,” I flat out say. “I can't accept that. I won't. I’m not your burden to bear.”

He holds my hands and I feel our fingers intertwine. “You're not listening to me. If you don't take it, I'll spend it all on guns and booze. Now, are you really going to let me turn into a gun-wielding alcoholic?”

“You're already a gun-wielding alcoholic, Colt.” I sit up and squeeze his hand three times.

“Dammit. You're right,” he snorts. “Doesn't mean I'm not giving you that money.”

“If you give me that money, I’ll be forced to pay you back. It’s a big number I’ll owe. Not to mention, I’m out of a job,” I sigh. I know he’s just trying to be helpful and obviously I shouldn’t protest since I need all the help I can get right now. I don’t like the idea of someone taking care of me. But, I have to give in. I don’t have much of a choice.

“Do what you want. Pay me back in thirty years. I’ll still be here, right in this cabin,” he smiles and leans back on the bed.

“Welding away?” I ask him, slightly joking. Although, when I say the word “welding,” something lights up in his eyes.

“You know it, baby girl.”

I laugh.

“Baby girl, huh? That’s a new one.” He shrugs and I find myself nuzzling against his warm body. Colt saved my life today. In fact, when I look back on everything, he’s always been there, and he’s always been respectful. Maybe he came off as a prick the night we met, but now I know better. Deep within that tough exterior is a man with a heart of gold. There was a man who is willing to defend the one he had his eye on.

Next to that man, curled up against his chest, is a woman who is falling hard for him.
Shit.

A
s the sun
peeks out from over the dark-green mountains, my eyes fall over. Next to me, curled up in a cute little ball, is Lena Skye, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. My eyes fall heavy on her ass, which, like the sun, is peeking out from underneath the covers. She’s in my bed, half naked. My bed.

I kiss her cheek lightly and she groans against the heavy tide of sleep. She opens her eyes and smiles. “Morning,” I smile. “How ‘bout some breakfast.”

“That sounds incredible. I’m so hungry, I could eat a horse,” she grunts.

“That’s deranged,” I laugh. “But you’re in luck. I keep a horse in the back.”

She misses the joke and falls back asleep, the small slivers of sun shining down on her body from the half-open window. Nothing could hide my erection and I sure as hell don’t attempt to. I walk to the closet, grab a pair of sweat pants, and get out in the kitchen to start some of my world-famous breakfast. The Colt special of the day is eggs over French toast with a side of bacon and fresh-squeezed orange juice.

I crack the eggs, stir the mixture, heat up the bacon, and dip the toast. Soon enough, delicious smells from heaven fill up the kitchen, and Lena comes walking into the room with her incredible body on display. Of course, there I am again. Hard and throbbing. Aching.
Shit, she’s hot.

“Happy to see me?” She laughs, biting on her thumb. She moves close to me and wraps her arms around me. I put the pans on low heat and spin around to feel the skin around her waist.

I kiss her hair, her cheek, and then I fall to her lips. “You don’t know just how happy I really am,” I say. “God, you’re as beautiful as a rose. You know that?”

I pull back on her lips. Once, twice, and a third time. When our lips meet a fourth time, my tongue wraps around hers, pulling her in. I push back on her body and she falls against the kitchen counter. I pick her up and place her butt on top, so she’s sitting with her legs wrapped around my waist.

I quickly pull those loose sweatpants down and suddenly we’re frantically feeling each other, kissing wildly against the small hissing of the pans. The sounds of our breathing fill the kitchen and when I place my hand across the center of her panties, I feel just how wet she is. “You’re soaked,” I whisper.

“What’re you going to do about that?” she asks me, biting at my ear lobe.

I rip her panties off her, literally tearing the fabric off. I grab her bra and do the same. We’re acting like wild animals and it’s like drinking water after a year’s drought. I drink her in, kissing at her breasts, tongue wrapped around her erect nipples. My palm runs up to the top of her neck and her jaw moves toward the ceiling.

“Colt,” she moans my name. The way it hits the roof of her mouth makes my cock jump.

She reaches down and grabs my cock, feeling my thickness pulsate and ache for her, rubbing her thumb around my pre-cum, and spreading it all over my shaft. It’s not needed for how wet she is, and when she places it directly against her core, I slide in against her walls as perfect as a missing puzzle piece. We both moan in unison and I begin thrusting into her against the wooden counter.

Our sex is quick and full of wild, inner passion. We almost betrayed each other, left one another to fend for themselves in a world that needs love more than ever. This was our apology to each other. This was our reconnection.

I’m thrusting and pushing myself in, deeper and deeper, until I’m fully lost inside of her. The feeling she gives me goes straight to the center of my brain. It’s pure ecstatic pleasure. Her wetness drips from my cock onto my tight balls and they smack against her ass as I pull her even closer toward me.

“Cum for me,” she moans loudly. “Cum inside of me.” And when she realizes all of what that means, she simply says “Just do it. I want to feel every bit of you. I want to feel you shoot inside me, Colt.”

Those words get me going. They send adrenaline rushing through me, charged with sexual energy. Her words alert the soldier in me. I’m fighting to give her everything I’ve got and I can slowly feel the pressure build in the center of my taint. I’m getting full and I’m about to fucking explode.

I quickly grab her waist and pick her up, spinning around and pinning her against my fridge. “Fuck!” I practically scream, feeling her tits press against my chest. “Oh, fuck!” The head of my cock is growing and I know this is it. The pleasure builds against my balls and the head of my cock, and I can’t fight how wet and perfect she truly feels.

I grab at every bit of her flesh, feeling all of what I love about her. Those thick thighs, perfect ass, tits to die for, the curvature of her hips.
Jesus Christ
, I’m going to fucking explode. I feel my cock bounce up and down and finally I rupture, spilling all of what I have inside of her. I push in deep, making sure I’m fully hers, and when the pleasure finally starts to subside I kiss her deeply and slide out slowly.

It’s too much. She’s way too much woman for me. And that’s why she’s perfect. She keeps me on my toes and never disappoints. I spin her around, pressing her ass against my face and I kiss it. “You are too fucking perfect. Do you know that?”

She smiles and tilts her face up elegantly. “I know. I’m an angel.”

I turn off the pans and throw everything onto two plates. “The bacon is a little burnt, but everything else looks good,” I say to her. “Dig in.”

We eat voraciously. “God, I’m hungry,” she says. “Yesterday took a lot out of me.”

As sorry I am that it happened, her totaling her car was like a godsend for me. She’s actually back here, back in my kitchen, and eating breakfast with me after I fucked her brains out. Am I the luckiest guy on the planet? I’m thinking that’s an obvious yes.

We sit eating, quietly staring at each other. A smile is constantly breaking out onto our faces and it’s hard not to laugh with pleasure every time our eyes meet. It’s like we’re in on some joke that no one else notices. It feels like how life used to feel like, before the war, back when I was younger. She gives me hope, gives me life, and suddenly I’m restored. I want to do everything with her. I want to go on hikes, to see the world, and I especially want to end this shit with Elijah. If he breaks this story, all of this perfection will crumble and give way to a new life of stagnancy. I’ll be an outcast. Even the Navy will shun me.

When I'm doing the dishes, she comes up behind me and slaps my ass. I fully jump forward, when she squeezes. “Never get tired of that ass,” she says.

“That’s funny. I was just about to say the same thing to you,” I smile. She kisses the curve of my neck and then my shoulder. She kisses down to my ass and then she’s on her knees, kissing the tip of my cock. Of course, I’m hard again.

“Shit,” I moan. “I think I like having you over so often.” She laughs to herself and runs into my bedroom.

The whole day is spent in a heat of passion, twisting together, animalistic rhythms, thrusting and falling into one another. When we’re done, we fall into each other’s arms, ready to go again. Soon enough, we’re in the shower, totally exhausted by our hot little dance. I’m watching her as she soaps her body. The foam drips down around her stomach, falling into every curvature below. She’s like a fucking painting, beautiful, fragile, and strong all at once.

“What will you do with Elijah?” She suddenly asks me, as she grabs a towel to dry off. I turn off the hot water and grab her butt.

“I haven’t given it too much thought,” I say. “But I guess I’ll just have to kill him.”

She groans and falls onto the bed, legs spread open. “Shut up. I’m serious, Colt. What exactly happened over there? What did you do that could warrant such a response from him?”

I shrug and grab a pair of basketball shorts. “I fucked you. He’s jealous. You know how guys can get all territorial and shit? Well, clearly I’ve angered him by taking his ‘property’,” I say.

By the way she’s looking at me, I can tell she’s not buying a word of this. “If you want me to trust you, you’re going to tell me what happened. This isn’t a stupid interview. This is between us. Tell me what happened in Kabul.”

I sigh and secure my prosthetic leg. Every damn time I have to mess with the thing, I feel so fucking inferior. The way she’s looking at me with sympathetic eyes makes me go out of my mind. I don’t need sympathy. I just want everyone to ignore what happened over there. It was a mistake, the biggest mistake of my life.

Though, I know deep down that she’s right. If we’re something now, and I have no idea if we are, I’m going to have to establish some trust. I’m going to have to tell her what really happened. How it all went down. God, Bowen was going to murder me if he ever found out.

“Alright. Fine. I’ll tell you. But you have to promise me that none of this gets out. None of it, you hear me?” I’m completely serious. These are dangerous words.

“What’s the big deal?” she asks.

“I could get killed. I could go to prison for treason. There’s a lot of scenarios that could occur and none of them are particularly good,” I say.

“Fine,” she whispers. “I understand.” Her hand falls on my upper thigh, right where my prosthetic connects to my flesh. I shiver with guilt as the images of what happened flood into my brain.

I took a deep breath and began to remember. “We were told a high profile terror suspect, Abdul Hameed Mohammed, was just outside of the city. He was supposed to be training at nearby opium farm. It’s not a huge secret that the drug gangs out there are all connected to terrorist networks. In fact, as we had already begun to find out, these terrorist groups were completely scattered,” I said, taking another giant breath to calm myself down.

“Meaning what?” she asked me, placing her hand on my back.

“Meaning we were sent into a city full of enemy combatants. Only, there was no way of knowing who was on the wrong side versus right. It was us with our guns and limited supply of ammo, and them. They were natives. They knew the ins and outs of the city. And by God, we were surrounded.”

“Jesus…” she whispers. But that’s not even half of the story. That’s just the beginning.

I continue. “I thought I was sent over to be a sniper. Sure, I carried the title. But I envisioned my tour being in the mountainous regions, or aiming down on enemies from tall rooftops. Instead, we were in the city center. Windows, roofs, and mosques stared down at us. So, of course, we were pretty paranoid. It was four of us, including Bowen and me when we got the call. The President of the United States himself issued the strike. Abdul Hameed was to be gunned down in the middle of the night. This was to be our last mission and then we’d go home, back to our families, back to the good old US of A.”

Lena rubs my back, but I can tell she’s tense. Her hands are practically shaking with fear as I continue my story. She tells me to go on, so I do.

“It was zero four hundred hours and the night claimed the city. Still, there were enemies everywhere. We just couldn’t see them at the time. We waited for the command and quickly raided the compound to the farm. Abdul Hameed and his men attempted to escape and we opened fire. Everything became a blur at this point. When you’re seeing through night-vision lenses, it’s a little hard to look back on. I remember us missing him. I remember a good twenty men or so come out with AKs. None of them knew how to use a weapon. They were practically children, maybe 18 or 19 years old. All gunned down in seconds. I fell against the wall as grenades blasted through the hallways. They would do anything to take us out, even if that meant taking their own lives. Abdul Hameed, however, had a hiding spot. His life was too sacred to give up.”

My breathing quickened as I told the story. I kept all this pent up in the back of my mind for so long. It was as if it never even happened. But it did. It was real. And now I had to face the truth.

“You don’t have to say anymore if you don’t want to,” she tells me. Maybe it’s because she knows how much it tears me up inside. Or maybe it’s because she’s sickened by what she’s hearing. “I’m sorry, Colt,” she says as she runs those fingers down my back. Sorry doesn’t bring back those men. Sorry doesn’t take it all away. It’s just a word people use when they don’t have anything else to say.

It doesn’t matter. It’s all the truth. And she needs to hear it from my mouth. “We continued the chase until we found a small door in the center of the building. It was hidden under a Persian rug, and led deep into a smoky basement, presumably his hideout. We called for his surrender. No one responded. One of our men Gehlen threw a flash grenade inside. Still, nothing. Then I heard the laughter. When I turned around, a bullet sunk into Gehlen’s back and he fell to the dusty floor. He was dying, bleeding out in front of all of us. There he was, Abdul Hameed Mohammed, holding a gun to his wife and child’s head, using them as shields.”

I clear my throat and grab a glass of water. From the kitchen, I talk loudly. “But it’s not like we didn’t have him in our sights. There was Bowen, Akron, and me. You haven’t met Akron, but he didn’t give two shits about the man’s wife and child. He was ready to open fire and would have too, if that second round of gun shots didn’t start right then. There were enemy snipers all around us and they were clear marksmen. Two bullets sunk into my leg. Then a third. And a fourth. I got hit into the arm. Bowen got hit. I knew if I didn’t get us out of there, we would all die. So I grabbed Bowen and dragged him to a corner of the compound. Akron shoved me off. He wanted to end it more than anything. Being a SEAL was his whole life’s work. And that’s when it all fucking happened.”

“What happened?” she asks me. I hand her the glass of water, but she can’t even drink yet. She needs to know every last detail.

“Three Black Hawks came from nowhere to our rescue. It was our men. Our government had come to our rescue. You couldn’t imagine the joy we felt right then and there. Abdul Hameed had nowhere to run. Only, the men in those choppers were firing back at us. We scrambled into hiding and we watched Abdul Hameed grab onto a safety rope and escape into the helicopter above. Of course, Akron grabbed his leg and got carried away right with him. We never saw him again. To my right was Gehlen, my dying brother, and I realized my government had betrayed us.”