Authors: Gennita Low
Everything was in a folder for them on the plane—the hotel Sean had booked, where and when they’d be meeting, credit cards in an envelope. Hell, even a check with partial payment for his job. There was even a fresh change of clothes and food.
“Courtesy of Admiral Madison,” Hawk had said during their last phone call. “You helped prevent a big mess from happening. If the fort had been taken and those women imprisoned and sold, all our efforts to get their own people to fight the war would have gone down the drain. Bombing that convoy was cream on top. They were planning to use the captured fort as a way to transport their militants in and out of Iraq. The admiral is pleased with how things turned out. So am I, Liam. I hope this brings you some closure about what had happened and that you’ll come and work with the teams now and then. Glad you’re safe and sound.”
“Thanks again,” Liam had said, and asked because he didn’t know when he’d get another chance to talk to Hawk any time soon, “Can I bring a guest to your island? Since you’re all pleased with my getting all able to function like a SEAL again and all that.”
A slight pause, followed by a chuckle. “I ought to build a hotel there for romancing bros, what with all the requests I get. Sure. Leave a message before you go, in case I get some time off and find myself interrupting your rendezvous.”
Rendezvous. Liam turned off the shower.
Shakespeare used that word to mean a refuge, some place to fly to. How appropriate and also, strange. He’d been looking for refuge from his own demons and never thought he’d find it in the guise of a redheaded woman manning a machine gun.
He walked into his room and almost tripped. Sitting on his bed was Ella in a towel, her damp hair a dark red, tumbling down milky shoulders, her long, long legs dangling off one side. There was a sly smile on her face.
“I like the suite,” she said, teasing the bedsheets with one hand “because of the two bathrooms. But not the two beds.”
“I was going to do the gentlemanly thing and have a talk first,” Liam said, his gaze following that hand while trying to not let his brain cells melt all away.
She shook her head. “I don’t want to talk or think or cry. I just want to feel you inside me. I bought condoms downstairs when you were checking us in,” she said, her teeth catching her lower lip. She shook the package in her other hand. “Do you still want to talk? I truly am done with talking.”
Hell, if she put it that way—Liam dropped his towel. “I’m ready for some bouncing,” he announced.
* * *
lla could not take her eyes off the muscular man striding toward her. Good Lord. Those camos with all the pockets really did this fine specimen of a body a disservice. There was not an ounce of fat on the man. The wide shoulders, the light coating of hair on that fine chest, the flat stomach...and the very happy penis resting against it.
He was on her in no time, his big body covering hers, his mouth possessing hers. This was what she wanted—to taste this man, to feel his heartbeat under her hand. She hardly knew him and yet, somehow, her body eagerly responded to his touch. Desire didn’t come easily to her. She’d spent most of her life chasing her dream to be an overseas correspondent. Her ambition hadn’t been very conducive to any kind of dating life.
She gasped at the touch of his hand cupping her intimately. His tongue tangled with hers, copying the movement of his exploring fingers. She groaned into his mouth as his tongue circled, then slowly thrust deeper. His knees spread her legs open for more access to her wet core.
He lifted his mouth off hers. “Too fast?” He asked, his fingers still moving intimately against her heat. “You sure you don’t want to talk?”
Ella’s eyes were closed. She could hear the smile in his voice. Damn man was a tease. She arched up in frustration when he slowed his ministration of that very important part that was screaming for release.
“I’m...sure,” she gritted out.
He dipped his head and she moaned when he lapped at her sensitive nipple. His finger penetrated deep into her. Then he sucked at her nipple, and each pull corresponded with his finger sliding in and out of her.
“Liam!” She gasped and shuddered as pleasure rocked her into quick orgasm. She arched up again and again. He continued to stroke in and out of her, his thumb playing with her clitoris, stretching her orgasm until she forgot to breathe.
She lay there, panting. She heard a plastic package being torn.
“Is it my turn to talk yet?” He asked, nudging a very hard erection against her swollen flesh.
“If that thing could talk, what would it say?” She countered.
“That thing is my very big penis and it’s saying,
“Hear my soul speak. Of the very instant that I saw you, Did my heart fly at your service.”
He pushed against her swollen flesh, sleek and slippery with her come. And so sensitive still. Her toes curled as he leaned forward, bracing his weight, and slowly entered her. The slide of his flesh sent tingles up her spine. His voice was low and sexy as he continued, “
My bounty is as boundless as the sea, My love as deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite
Ella sighed. “Who knew a big penis could be such a poet?”
Liam’s thrusts became rhythmic as he whispered erotic promises in her ear, his breath hot against her cheek with each push. She held on tightly, her pleasure coiling tighter and tighter.
Her inner muscles squeezed the length of him and she heard him breathing heavier. He stretched her hands over her head and pushed in deep inside her. He nibbled her an erogenous spot on her neck that made her squirm under him helplessly, which pushed him even deeper inside her.
She gasped as he tucked both her hands inside his and use his free hand to cup her breast, pulling at the sensitive nipple while his lower body thrust in and out, a slow push and pull that made her feel every inch of him. Want. More. She wrapped her long legs around his waist, demanding more. He obeyed.
There were no more words, just his breaths and hers, mingling, as their bodies moved with their own poetic language. He called her name and put his hand between her legs, knuckling her clitoris. She gave a small scream as pleasure rocketed through her whole being, hitting her in hot waves. His lips met hers in a desperate kiss and she responded in kind. His whole weight came on top of her body as he joined her in a powerful orgasm.
* * *
iam could count on his hand the number of times he’d slept well the past year and a half. Last night, he slept like a puppy in the arms of this woman who didn’t even know how deeply she was affecting him. Or maybe she did, because she had petted him all night. He woke up with her kisses.
With a hard-on.
“Must we talk?” She asked, eyeing the little tent his happy puppy hard-on was making. “Because I’d rather spend the morning bouncing.”
Liam turned. “Ella, what about us? Do you want to see where this is taking us?”
Her blue eyes had a gleam. “If I say yes, does that mean you’ll let me travel with you as an embedded journalist?”
He blinked. “Wait. What?”
She was a journalist. She would never let something worthy off the hook. “Well, how else are we going to get to know each other? You travel around and guard and deliver stuff. I travel around and watch and report stuff. Why not let me watch and report while you guard and deliver? You’ll make a good story.”
His brows shot up. “Is that all I am to you? A good story?”
She leaned over and kissed the corner of his lips softly. Small butterfly kisses. The kind that made a man’s heart turn to mush.
“We get to talk a lot...long, interesting stories you can tell me. Your big penis can get in on these conversations too, if you like.”
“Oh, yeah?” His penis seemed to be agreeing to this without any fight.
“Yeah. I kinda like the way he gets all Shakespearean and then he weeps in joy.” She lifted the bed cover and peeked under. “There he is, all weepy again.”
Liam threw back his head and laughed. “You win. We’ll have to negotiate the details later. But right now, I know a way you can make him very happy.”
He watched as Ella pulled the covers away and got on top of him. Her legs climbed on each side of his body, trapping him.
“Bounce, bounce, bounce,” she said.
They both laughed. Liam pulled Ella down for a full kiss. She might not know it yet, but he intended to keep this sassy and brave woman by his side with the longest stories.
eshmerga female fighters
is a fierce fighting force. They are Kurds, whose history had always been rooted in warrior lore. The Kurds and their long-fought battle for Kurdistan make interesting historical reading. Divided and living without a country in three main countries—Syrian, Iraq and Turkey—they formed various militant factions, some of which had been condemned as terrorist groups. One of them is the PKK, a group against whom Turkey had fought for decades, jailing their leader and expelling others.
Through the centuries, the Kurds had suffered many trials and tribulations after losing their land. Saddam Hussein had killed thousands, poisoning them with gas. Many still live like nomads in the desert, preferring to be “free” on their own terms.
I have done extensive research on the female fighters and their power within this army. The women leaders lived in Paris and in the last few years, there have been a series of incidences of intrigue and murder.
Here are photos of this group of brave women who had chosen to fight when thousands of men fled.
This is when a military force attacks a friendly side by mistake, with tragic results. There was one such incident involving Canadian Special Forces in 2015. One Canadian spec. operative was killed by mistake, and several injured, by Kurdish fighters.
Through the years, many such incidences have been covered up. In the cases involving special operations, most deaths were just reported without details because the missions were secret.
The most famous recent case is the death of Army Ranger Patrick Tillman, a successful NFL football star who gave up his career because of 9/11. He wanted to serve his country and went on several tours before being killed by friendly fire.
A team of four SEALs, out on smaller operations. A SEAL team usually has 8 men but they do go out in smaller groups on certain missions.
The correct way to call ISIS or ISIL terrorists. The Arabs call them Daesh (pronounced Dash) The word is an Arabic acronym of al-Dawla al-Islamiya fi Iraq wa ash-Sham – meaning the Islamic State of Iraq and al-Shams – but Daesh when spoken sounds similar in Arabic for "the sowers of discord" (Dahes) or "one who crushes underfoot" (Daes).
Due to Arabic wordplay, it could also be an insult and the terrorist organization had threatened "to cut the tongue of anyone who publicly used the acronym Daesh, instead of referring to the group by its full name", the Associated Press wrote in September 2014.
The Iraqi/Syrian/Turkey border is very porous. Militants slip in and out of all three countries in-between checkpoints. The US military started to build forts as checkpoints to maintain border security. They look like this:
I modeled the story’s fort after one which is bigger and has better defensive capabilities. The US government has funded most of these forts and sent special ops teams to act as advisors as well as trainers to the Iraqi army. Late in the war against Daesh (ISIS), the Kurds from Iraq, Syria and Turkey had formed into a sizeable army and they are one of the reasons Daesh lost ground.
Naval Special Warfare Development Group is a Counter Terrorism unit administered by US Naval Special Warfare Command. An elite within an elite, the unit is made up of DELTA operatives as well as SEALs selected from existing SEAL Teams. My Crossfire SEALs team, the Standing and Ready cell, is based on DEVGRU teams.
Stopping a grenade with a Kevlar helmet
While researching grenades, I read the story of Medal of Honor winner, Jason Dunham. He covered a grenade with his helmet and his body. Because the helmet covered the grenade, it collected the full force of ALL of the shrapnel. The explosion shredded that helmet into pieces, but the Kevlar was so strong, you could still see the mesh holding together. God bless the brave men and women who serve in our military.
The Oshkosh Defense
MRAP All-Terrain Vehicle (M-ATV). These come in a variety of sizes but they all offer protection from IEDs. Top speed is 65 miles and its engine can withstand a hit and still be able to drive for a bit. They have rear-hinged doors, which was what I was picturing when I mapped out the scene where Ella rescued the SEAL team and the men were scrambling into the vehicle from different doors.
Basic Underwater Demolition/SEALs training program. All navy recruits must undergo this program and must pass it before they can become a SEAL. Stuff of legend. The kind of men military romance is all about!
ear reader, I hope you enjoyed reading Liam’s and Ella’s story and also got to know more about my SEAL team.
To read Jazz’s story: Protector
To read Hawk’s story: Hunter
To read Cucumber’s story: Warrior
writes sexy military and techno spy-fi romance. She also co-owns a roof construction business and knows 600 ways to kill with roofing tools as well as yell at her workers in five languages. A three-time Golden Heart finalist, her first book, Into Danger, about a SEAL out-of-water, won the Romantic Times Reviewers Choice Award for Best Romantic Intrigue. Besides her love for SEALs, she works with an Airborne Ranger who taught her all about mental toughness and physical endurance. Gennita lives with her mutant poms and one chubby squirrel.