Текст книги "Bad Boy's Baby"

Автор книги: Sosie Frost

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Текущая страница: 25 (всего у книги 28 страниц)

Chapter Seventeen – Zach

I left Shay at home and told her I’d return from Washington D.C. with good news.

Good news for one of us at least.

I made it to my scheduled physical twenty minutes early, but the doctor’s office didn’t operate on naval time.

I sat in the cramped waiting room for thirty minutes before a pretty nurse took my vitals. I stripped down and waited another fifteen for the doctor. Not that I didn’t enjoy a good sixty degree office shriveling my balls, but today wasn’t the day I wanted to get fucked around.

I needed to pass this physical.

Everything in my goddamned life depended on convincing the doctor I was fit to serve.

I had a lifetime of preparation, training, and sacrifice that punished my body beyond the breaking point, and this was how my fucking future would be determined. Not at a promotional ceremony getting commended for valor in combat. Not in the field taking out low-life, scum-of-the-earth murderers who targeted innocent people.

Here.

My worth was judged in a shitty doctor’s office with faded wallpaper and a sink that perpetually dripped. My bare ass hung out of my gown, and my feet covered in nurse issued booties. To make it worse, they piped in some hackneyed Barbara Streisand and left me to freeze.

My only good luck was a kiss from Shay who seemed more relieved to be rid of me than to actually touch me.

Maybe.

Hell if I understood that woman, but I’d love to try.

I flipped my phone. I texted her when I landed. Not because she asked me to, but because I thought it’d be like, nice? Something I was supposed to do?  Shay answered immediately with:

Ok! : )

Nothing else since.

I shouldn’t have expected anything. The girl I texted feared being abandoned. Here I was, sitting half-naked on a table, waiting on pins, needles, and the memory of IVs shoved into my veins to see how soon I could ship out and leave her alone.

I wasn’t the only man who ever made a choice between his family and country, but goddamn if it wasn’t both the easiest and hardest decision of my life.

I belonged somewhere, but now I wasn’t sure if it was with the SEALs or Shay.

Only one way to find out. I texted her again.

waiting in the doctor’s office

Nothing. I gave it a minute before tapping the screen. I snapped the photo and sent it.

if u think the gown is sexy, u should see my ass in it . everyone else can

My phone buzzed. Can the doctor give you a lobotomy instead?

I grinned. So she did care.

 shouldn’t b here that long. u should call the office. tell him I’m fit enough to serve you.

A delayed response. I imagined it flustered her. I hoped it did.

I’ll call and recommend a castration if you aren’t careful.

I took my shot and hoped for the best. that wouldn’t make either of us happy

An even longer delay. One step too far, or just enough of a push? What would it take to get her to see how fucking perfect we were together?

Heading into the attorney about the charity. Good luck!

Ah, willful ignorance. Or avoidance. Probably avoidance.

Shay warmed up with the intensity of an M80 and shut down with the force of a cleaver into a cutting board. I had to watch my fingers, toes, and more important areas around her.

Damn it. I shouldn’t have scared her off. I liked talking to her.

I wanted to talk to her.

Christ, I wanted her to be here with me.

How pathetic was that? I was a fucking Navy SEAL, and I needed someone to hold my hand in a doctor’s office?

During my injury, I had more needles in my arms, catheters in my cock, and fingers in my brain than I ever told Shay. I didn’t need her to fucking baby me.

I was getting back in the SEALs.

And there wasn’t a damn thing that would stop me.

Except her.

And she had no idea. All she had to do was say the word.

That scared me more than anything the doctor might have said.

The door opened, and a balding doctor in his late fifties entered. He washed his hands and gave me a cautious glance.

“SEAL, huh?” He asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“You guys really do have two modes—living and dead.”

“I’m still breathing.”

“Lucky for you.” He studied me with dark, skeptical eyes. “I had a look at your file, son. I’m sure how you survived.”

I gave him a smile. “I’m not complaining, sir.”

“Wouldn’t expect you to.” He tapped my chart. “Your blood work is fine.”

“With all due respect sir, the issue wasn’t with my blood. I had too much of it spilled.”

“Well, you’re looking solid now.”

“Yes, sir.”

He approached, and I straightened as he gripped my right shoulder. “You seem to be in good shape. Exercising every day?”

“At least, sir.”

“Not overdoing it?”

I grinned. “No such thing.”

He hummed. Squeezed. The shock bit through my shoulder. My nerves set on fire, rampaging down my spine.

“Does that hurt?” He asked.

I’d swallow my tongue. “Uncomfortable.”

“You had an injury to your rotator cuff,” he said. “They opted not to do surgery and wait.”

Probably because they were still stitching my head. “It’s getting better without the surgery.”

“Right.” He had me stand. I gritted my teeth as he moved the gown aside and pressed against my chest. “Broken ribs too?”

“Healed.”

“Right.”

He didn’t fucking believe me? Holy Christ, when I first woke, the ribs and collapsed lung fucked me up more than the head wound.

The doctor had me sit. He examined the scars on my head and exhaled.

“Do you feel you are physically capable of returning to duty?”

I didn’t hesitate. “Yes, sir.”

“Son, you suffered a severe, near-fatal accident only eight months ago. You endured months of intense therapy after weeks of extended hospitalization. Do you understand what that sort of trauma does to a body?”

“I remember it well,” I said. “A lesser man might have fallen.”

“But not you?”

“No, sir. I guarantee, I’m the strongest son of a bitch you’ve ever had the pleasure of examining.”

“That so?”

“Yes, sir. Just wait until I turn my head and cough.”

Finally got a chuckle out of him, but it faded quick. He tapped the chart. “Well, you seem mostly recovered.  I’m guessing you’re more physically fit now than you were before the accident which is…impressive, given the SEALs expectations.”

“I’ve definitely had more to work for, sir.”

“Any family?”

In a sense. I shrugged. “I live for the job.”

That wasn’t the answer he wanted.

He pulled a chair over and sat, crossing his legs. His glasses came off, and he rubbed his eyes. He hesitated.

But fucking why?

“Tell me about the headaches, Zach?”

I revealed fucking nothing. “What headaches?”

“Son.”

“Gotta be more specific, doc.”

“You’ve been prescribed oxycodone and fiorcet for migraines by Dr. Gretchen Halley.”

Damn it. Gretchen tried to force the pills down my throat before. I refused her every time. Didn’t stop her from calling a prescription in for me. Son of a bitch.

“I didn’t take them,” I said.

“So you aren’t having headaches?”

I preferred a real mine-field to these questions. “I could handle them.”

“How bad are they?”

“Just a headache.”

“Do you have one now?”

Yeah, and he was making it worse. “It’s not bad. Caused by the travel. Chartered my own jet, but unless I’m strapped in the back of a helo, flying is boring.”

He handed me a plastic tool to hold over my eye. He pointed to the chart on the door.

“Read the fourth line.”

“Look, the headaches are manageable—”

“Son, read the line.”

I couldn’t. The words blurred the more I concentrated. I shrugged.

“R-O-3-A-V.”

He frowned. “Not even close.”

I knew what he was going to say next. I didn’t let him talk.

“I can get LASIK. It’ll correct my vision. That’s not a problem.”

His voice hardened. “It’s not your eyes.”

“They’re blurry. Of course it’s my eyes.”

“Zach, you suffered extensive head trauma. Quite frankly, it’s a goddamned miracle you’re even standing, walking, talking, exercising, and thinking of re-enlisting in the SEALs.”

“Sir—”

“These aren’t tension headaches. This is a clear-cut case of Post-Concussion Syndrome. It’s serious. You shouldn’t be trying to get into the Navy. You need to find a qualified neurologist.”

“But—”

“This types of syndromes can kill you, son. The only thing you should be doing is resting and focusing on getting healthy. These headaches may last a lifetime.”

“I’ll handle them.”

“Not if you’re under enemy fire in hostile territory. It isn’t just your life on the line. Do you want to be the man responsible for killing a member of your squadron?”

Jesus. Like I didn’t have that nightmare every night. I clenched my jaw.

“Son, do yourself a favor. Be grateful you’re alive. Take care of yourself. Find a pretty girl and settle down.”

“I can do this, I just need a chance.”

He stood, clapping my shoulder. “I’m sorry. I can’t in good conscience clear you for duty. Not when you’d pose a danger to yourself and others. You served your country well, almost gave your life. Be grateful for the opportunity and focus on your continued recovery.”

He offered his hand. I reflexively shook it. He nodded.

“I’m sorry, son. But thank you for your service. You’re a hero to many people.”

The door closed behind him.

A hero?

To fucking who?

Years of training. Dedication. Motherfucking hell week—five days of physical fucking torture with no sleep—and it was over?

How could it be over?

How the hell could I survive the IED, the transport, the surgery, the recovery, only to have a goddamned headache prevent me from shipping back out?

Holy Christ, I survived spider bites, lacerations, and a parachute that incorrectly deployed. A damned headache knocked me out.

I ripped the gown off and pitched it across the room. It took out a glass container of tongue depressors. The glass didn’t shatter, but it toppled into the sink.

It wasn’t enough, but I wasn’t trashing a doctor’s office. It wasn’t his fault he ruined my life.

It wasn’t anyone’s fault, but it sure as hell felt like mine.

What the fuck was I supposed to do now?

Take money that shouldn’t have belonged to me and live some worthless life beside a pool? Grab some shitty nine-to-five to occupy my days?

All the damn opportunity in the world, and the one thing I wanted was gone.

Now I knew how Shay felt.

Shay.

Fuck.

I couldn’t face her. How many men had the honor of telling their women they were weak? Unfit.

Unworthy of the SEALs. Unworthy of her.

What the fuck was I supposed to do?

Chapter Eighteen – Shay

The front door slammed shut.

The windows shook with it, scaring the absolute bejesus out of me.

My heart just about stopped. The little library didn’t have a secondary exit to escape, not unless I wanted to climb up the fireplace. I abandoned my Kindle and dove over the couch—like the fraying afgan Gran knitted for me would protect me from goblins in my closet and intruders bursting through my door.

I grabbed the remote and reared to throw.

Bags thudded against the floor. I peeked at the door.

Christ, it was just Zach.

And he was…stripping.

Zach peeled his shirt off. His shoes kicked off next.

I swallowed. Pressing hard against the seam of his jeans was just the sort of trouble I knew he’d bring back from D.C.

“You’re home.” I gripped the couch. Suddenly, I was very aware that I stole one of his shirts to sleep in…and conveniently forgot to wear any pants or panties while I snuggled into a steamy book. “I wasn’t expecting you tonight.”

“Take it off.”

I smirked, picking at the shirt. “I didn’t think you’d mind if I borrowed it.”

“Take. It. Off.”

Oh, Lord.

His tone. That voice. The twitching muscles, rugged scars, and the devilish swirls of ink coating his chest.

Zach’s presence was enough to undo me. Combine that with the naughty book I read?

I wasn’t looking forward to sleeping alone tonight. Now I doubted I’d get any sleep at all.

But I hadn’t expected to welcome him home from D.C. on my knees. In fact, I planned on avoiding him as best I could. It wasn’t that I didn’t like him staring at me, studying me as I curled the shirt over my hips, across my navel, and over the swell of my breasts.

All I wanted was for him to stare at me. To touch me. Kiss me. Hold me.

Stay with me.

The shirt dropped to the floor. The cool air tickled over my skin, tightening my nipples beyond arousal and into a painful throb. Only his mouth could soothe them.

A single word stripped my defenses and clothes. His command was issued with SEAL authority and masculine desire.

“Come here.”

How could anyone resist? I’d never deny a man so powerful and sexy and charming and just…perfect. Too perfect.

My stepped padded close, slow and steady, letting the curve of my hip sway to tease his hungry gaze. I shouldn’t have encouraged this. A night with him was just another mistake.

But letting him get into my heart was worse.

I ignored every reasonable expectation for myself and touched the fierce ridges of his abs. The fear of losing him faded. He cupped my breast and soothed the ache inside of me.

I wasn’t following my head. Hell, I wasn’t even following my heart. I acted on need. Selfish, stupid, terrible desire. I never should have wanted this man. Embracing him would end in heartache and misery.

I tried not to let him close.

Our bodies touched.

I meant to ignore my feelings for him.

He kissed me.

I wished I could hate him.

But I didn’t. Couldn’t.

And what I did feel scared me.

His kiss turned ferocious, and his grip on my breast fierce and possessive. He squeezed, and I fell against him.

Even the little sting of pain felt good in his palm.

He released my nipple to tangle his fingers in my hair. I didn’t expect him to jerk my head back. I gasped as the nip against my throat was anything but playful. He clapped his free hand against my ass and dug in. Zach pressed me against him.

And growled.

“I want you. Right here. Right now.”

I rocked with shivers and shudders and excited tingles. My body answered for me, but I still purred for him—something vulgar and profane that hardened the bulge pressing into my belly.

Zach pushed me to my knees, but he batted my hands when I launched for his zipper.

“On your back.” His words struck deep into my core. “Spread those legs. Show me what I missed while I was away.”

What the hell came over my charmer?

And why did I love it so damned much?

I did as he asked, resting on my elbows and spreading my legs in a way I never, ever exposed myself to anyone…except the man who had seen, tasted, and experienced it all before.

I trembled. He saw everything. Every little quiver of the mocha petals, every shining slickness that became unbearable under his gaze.

This was so naughty. Something about Zach stirred me to do things I never did before. I loved the rush of heat even if it burned through my resolve. I wanted to let him go, to fight whatever twisted feelings I had for him.

I had to deny my attraction for my step-brother.

A step-brother who kicked away his jeans.

Sunk to the ground.

Pulled my legs apart and laid me flat as he drew my hips to his mouth.

“You have no idea how much I need this,” he said.

I had a good idea. My core clenched as his breath brushed over my clit.

“I thought I’d go crazy before I tasted you again. Fuck, I need you.”

Did he not see how wet he made me? His words and demands and body had me wiggling over the carpets like a hyper puppy. I needed him too.

“Happy to help,” I whispered.

I reached my arms over my head and stretched out, letting his thick fingers grip my sides. His mouth fell upon my slit and sealed over my swollen nub.

It wasn’t a tease. It wasn’t gentle. Zach devoured me—sucking, licking, feasting on everything far too sensitive for his rush of aggression and the brush of stubble from his chin.

My heart pounded. Every little gasp encouraged him. I jerked away as he got rougher, but he liked that. Zach gripped my hips and dove in deeper. I moaned as his tongue slipped within me, lapping the cream he couldn’t reach. I whimpered as he spread my thighs wider and shoved a finger into my tightness. He drew more and more honeyed slickness into his mouth.

And smiled.

My God. This man absolutely worshiped my body. I could do nothing but tremble as he completely dominated me. He took his fill and explored what he wanted.

I begged for more.

His finger worked deep inside, pumping against the little sensitive spot within me. I slickened with excitement. He eagerly lapped every bit of me and more.

“Zach…” My voice wavered. He brought me to the brink so suddenly my heart forgot to beat. Shock seized my body. I gasped for mercy, but he didn’t stop. The bastard increased his movements, thrusting his finger deeper, harder, faster, until I cried out in a constant whimper of delirious pleasure.

“Come for me,” Zach said. “I wanna watch you come, Shay. You have no idea how bad I need to make you come.”

I had a damn good idea. A second finger joined his first, and my desire coated him in a slickness that might have been embarrassing if he weren’t so damned eager for me to make more of a mess. I bucked my hips as he captured my clit. He suckled it between his teeth.

I moaned, blending his name with everything and anything I ever felt for him.

He didn’t notice.

He fixated on my slit, staring at my tightness as his pale fingers disappeared into my clenching core. I arched, and the orgasm crushed me in a quick, crippling, beautiful agony. I gripped the carpet in a helpless shudder. Zach didn’t stop. He pistoned inside me.

One, two, three quick bursts and I was lost.

I collapsed against the floor and gasped his name over and over until he hauled me up and silenced my mews with his mouth.

He tasted of me, and I fucking loved it. I flicked my tongue against his and clutched at him as hard as I could.

“I’m not done with you yet.” His words whispered a delicious threat over me. “You’re mine for the night, Shay. Fuck, the whole weekend. I’m going to fuck you until you can’t hold yourself up anymore.”

“Then what?”

“Then I’ll fuck you some more.”

Zach skipped flirting. He radiated pure sexual aggression. That was fine. No more games. No more hesitations. I just had to know.

“What did the doctor say?”

He tossed me to the carpet, pushing me to my knees. “Didn’t say. We’ll hear later.”

He didn’t want to talk about it, and I wasn’t able to listen. Tremors still rocked my body, but the instant the hot shaft of his cock rested against my thighs, I needed more.

He grunted, pushing my head down to the floor so I’d present myself to his thickening cock. I shivered. He was wild. Desperate for me. He pressed his hardness against my entrance and groaned.

“You’re so fucking perfect. I’m going to fuck you like a damn animal and just forget everything. I want you, Shay. You want me?”

More than anything. I’d deal with the regrets and complications between us later. Now only one thing existed in the world, and it was as hard as it had ever been.

“Please, Zach.”

He didn’t slip inside. He crashed. Bottomed out after one perfect strike within my core with all the ruthless strength I expected from a practiced, rutting warrior.

I loved every single inch of it.

He pushed me, pressed me into the carpet, laid over me with the crushing weight of his body. Zach thrust inside me until I filled with everything he gave.

It drove the air from my lungs and the sanity from my mind.

More.

I bucked my hips but Zach needed no encouragement. He gripped my curves and held me still as his cock slammed ever deeper. Each conquered inch shuddered us in perfect pleasure.

He pinned me to the floor. If he kept me trapped beneath him, I’d worship the ground he walked on. But he didn’t need to hold me down. I’d never escape from his hands, his weight, the slamming aggression of a godly cock.

I never wanted to part from Zach.

That much I was willing to admit. That much he already knew.

That much I proved with every grateful moan. His body claimed mine, and I took his. In that moment, nothing about what we did could be wrong. He wasn’t my step-brother. He was a man—someone strong and sexy and absolutely devoted to my pleasure.

And me?

I was just as weak for him. No defenses. No fighting. His passion overwhelmed me, but I already spent every hour apart from him thinking of his body, needing his voice, stealing his shirt to wrap myself in his dusty scent.

Now I had him. Zach’s arms clenched around me, pulling me against his chest as his cock rammed inside me. I clung to his strength, opened my legs to his need, and whimpered his name as my head fell to his shoulder.

Harder. Desperate. Zach buried himself in me like he had something to prove, like I didn’t already know how powerful and amazing he was. He was my ideal man—strong, unyielding, and wanting my pleasure as badly as I wanted to give him his.

“Shay…” His voice rasped, rough and dark. “I gotta come.”

“God, yes.”

His hand flicked low. He slapped my clit to hear my gasp and savored my tight flinch. Then he rubbed it hard against his fingers. I jerked and twitched, but he only grunted, thrusting harder to earn the catch in my voice as I cried out his name.

The sensation turned from demanding to an unbearable quickening. Everything inside me locked over his cock. Zach gripped me against his body. His shaft pounded, forcing in as deeply as he could get it.

Heat jetted into my core.

And I was lost.

I collapsed against him, supported only by the sheer muscle of his arms and how thickly his cock imbedded in my slit.

Heat coated me from the inside, and the explosive force of his desire cast me over the edge. I shuddered in his arms, welcoming the bursting, almost-painful convulsion of my body as it rent apart and rebuilt just how he wanted me—warm, quivering, and weak for him.

We fell to the ground, but Zach didn’t pull from me. I panted, arching to let him deeper. His cock impaled me, but the slow, leisurely pump of his shaft within my tightness was enough to draw another series of shuddered prayers from me and more jetted heat from him.

He held me close, kissing my cheek, my neck, and pulling my hand to his lips so he could taste that too.

I stayed silent. I didn’t trust what I’d say, what beautiful words I’d waste on a man who belonged to a life that wasn’t mine.

Don’t go.

Never leave me.

I’m falling in…

Dangerous, foolish thoughts. I cuddled against him instead, savoring his heat and hoping for nothing more than a few precious moments in his arms where life couldn’t touch us.

And I got it.

But it’d only delay the inevitable. The words. The heartache.

His leaving.

I didn’t want to be alone anymore.

I didn’t want to be without him.

Zach rolled me over and spread my legs.

“Again,” he whispered. “Shay, again.”

We’d deny the heartbreak for a little longer.