Band of Bachelors: Jake Book 3
Jake
Band of Bachelors
Book 3
Sharon Hamilton
Sharon Hamilton’s Book List
SEAL Brotherhood
SEAL Encounter (Book .5)
Accidental SEAL (Book 1)
SEAL Endeavor (Book 1.5)
Fallen SEAL Legacy (Book 2)
SEAL Under Covers (Book 3)
SEAL The Deal (Book 4)
Cruisin’ For A SEAL (Book 5)
SEAL My Destiny (Book 6)
SEAL Of My Heart (Book 7)
Bad Boys of SEAL Team 3
SEAL’s Promise (Book 1)
SEAL My Home (Book 2)
SEAL’s Code (Book 3)
Band of Bachelors
Lucas (Book 1)
Alex (Book 2)
Jake (Book 3)
True Blue SEALs
True Navy Blue (prequel to Zak)
Zak
Nashville SEAL
Nashville SEAL (Book 1)
Jameson (Book 2)
Fredo
Fredo’s Secret (novella) Book 1
Fredo’s Dream (Book 2)
Novellas
SEAL Encounter
SEAL Endeavor
True Navy Blue (prequel to Zak)
Fredo’s Secret
Nashville SEAL
SEAL You In My Dreams (Magnolias and Moonshine)
SEAL Of Time (Trident Legacy)
Boxed Sets
SEAL Brotherhood Box Set 1 (SEALs)
SEAL Brotherhood Box Set 2 (SEALs)
Ultimate SEAL Collection Vol. 1 (SEALs)
Ultimate SEAL Collection Vol. 2 (SEALs)
Big Bad Boys Bundle (SEALs)
Beaus & Arrows Valentines Anthology
Immortal Valentines (Paranormal)
Kindle Worlds
SEAL’s Goal: The Beautiful Game
Love Me Tender, Love You Hard
Sleeper SEALs
Bachelor SEAL
Fall From Grace Series
Gideon: Heavenly Fall
Golden Vampires of Tuscany
Honeymoon Bite (Book 1)
Mortal Bite (Book 2)
The Guardians
Heavenly Lover (Book 1)
Underworld Lover (Book 2)
Underworld Queen (Book 3)
About the Book
Navy SEAL Jake Green wakes up in the Honeymoon Suite at the Desert Oasis Motel in Las Vegas and can’t remember how he got there. But that’s not the only thing he doesn’t remember. A bachelor, his left hand now sports a gold wedding ring.
Begin Reading
Dedication
About the Author
Series Overview
Table of Contents
Copyright © 2017 by Sharon Hamilton
Kindle Edition
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. In many cases, liberties and intentional inaccuracies have been taken with rank, description of duties, locations and aspects of the SEAL community.
License Notes
This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
Author’s Note
I always dedicate my SEAL Brotherhood books to the brave men and women who defend our shores and keep us safe. Without their sacrifice, and that of their families—because a warrior’s fight always includes his or her family—I wouldn’t have the freedom and opportunity to make a living writing these stories. They sometimes pay the ultimate price so we can debate, argue, go have coffee with friends, raise our children and see them have children of their own.
One of my favorite tributes to warriors resides on many memorials, including one I saw honoring the fallen of WWII on an island in the Pacific:
“When you go home
Tell them of us, and say
For your tomorrow,
We gave our today.”
These are my stories created out of my own imagination. Anything that is inaccurately portrayed is either my mistake, or done intentionally to disguise something I might have overheard over a beer or in the corner of one of the hangouts along the Coronado Strand.
I support two main charities: Navy SEAL/UDT Museum in Ft. Pierce, Florida. Please learn about this wonderful museum, all run by active and former SEALs and their friends and families, and who rely on public support, not that of the U.S. Government.
www.navysealmuseum.org
I also support Wounded Warriors, who tirelessly bring together the warrior as well as the family members who are just learning to deal with their soldier’s condition and have nowhere to turn. It is a long path to becoming well, but I’ve seen first-hand what this organization does for its warriors and the families who love them. Please give what your heart tells you is right. If you cannot give, volunteer at one of the many service centers all over the United States. Get involved. Do something meaningful for someone who gave so much of themselves, to families who have paid the price for your freedom. You’ll find a family there unlike any other on the planet.
www.woundedwarriorproject.org
Table of Contents
Title Page
Sharon Hamilton’s Book List
About the Book
Copyright Page
Author’s Note
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Excerpt from Fredo’s Dream
Excerpt from Zak
About the Author
Series Overview
Reviews
Navy Seal Prayer
Chapter 1
His head felt like someone had sucked out his guts and injected them into his skull right above his eyebrows. His tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. He heard the stretching of huge rubber bands, high-speed drills, and a car horn, which forced him to try to open his eyes.
Except he couldn’t. They were stuck shut. He tried to pry them open with his fingers and had no sensation past his wrists.
Of all the fucked ups I’ve fucked up, this is the most fucked up I’ve ever been fucked up.
He tried to roll over and discovered why he couldn’t feel his hands. Forcing his eyelids open by sheer concentration, he determined his arms were drawn above his head, his wrists secured with red ribbons, double-tied in knots wrapped around the metal bedframe. Whoever had done it was serious about immobilizing him
and leaving him that way long term. Judging from the numbness in his hands, it had been hours.
The room was big and crusted in red and gold colors worthy of a high-end whorehouse, which wouldn’t be a first time for Jake. It wouldn’t be the tenth, either. And he’d been to them all over the world.
Where the fuck am I?
It felt like desert, but not the Sandbox of the Middle East. Desert as in the Southwest. New Mexico? Arizona?
He heard traffic outside. Some bump and grind music echoed down the street. Hucksters. Millions of little flickering electric lights sounded like gnats.
Las Vegas!
The slit of bright orange light crept across the room and fell over his bare feet. Thankfully, those he could feel. The window was framed in red. Like the rest of the room, the brocade curtains were peppered with red hearts. Red sheers poked out from the sides like ruffles on a petticoat.
He was stark naked. Good thing it was a hot day. His rod was ready, always a bad sign. Not a condom in sight. No protection, totally risky behavior, again.
Dammit! You said you’d stop this shit.
He tried to roll up to his shoulders and push against the metal frame, but the ribbons were secure. As he yanked on his bonds, a warm glow began to develop in his hands, and they felt painful and swollen. He couldn’t move his fingers.
“Help!” he screamed, sounding like a teenager. He cleared his throat and concentrated. “Somebody, help me!” This time his shout was more manly.
Listening for the welcome sound of a key being used. running feet, or voices outside the door, he was soon disappointed. He scanned the room again for his clothes and came up empty. He did find his cell on the floor by the bed, face down, so he couldn’t tell if anyone had tried to call him. And then he thought about something else.
My wallet!
It had happened before. Surely they had taken his wallet. She had taken his wallet.
She? Was there a she?
One thing was for sure, it wasn’t going to be a fuckin’ he. No matter how drunk he got, there’d never be a he. Or at least he better look like a she.
Oh, fuck.
“Somebody? Somebody get a manager!” he screamed. He held his breath and listened.
Nothing.
He sunk his head back into the double pillow, closed his eyes, wiggled his hips to try to get some of the weight off his stiffy, which only made it worse, and then just gave up and tried to think.
Images of Las Vegas and what his past had been like here replayed. Lots of weddings for his SEAL buddies on Team 3. Fredo and Mia got married here. Ryan and Alex married their wives in a double Elvis. Hard to forget that one. Boy, he nearly wound up in jail, running through the casino stark naked. There were the showgirls. Someone had dared him to streak the dressing room, but they pointed him to the wrong one so he ran past well-oiled dudes who were more than a little interested in him. His buddies could always be counted on to put him in the most embarrassing situations.
Okay, Connor was sent to Alaska and missed his own wedding here. T.J. had threatened to send Frankie—poor Frankie, who was so in love with Shannon he drooled on himself whenever he talked about her drunk. They brought him home and buried him next to the plot they’d all chipped in and gotten for Gunny.
He concentrated on the celebrations, too. Like the divorces, including both of his. The first one he definitely needed. Ginger had been just too hot to handle, but God, how he loved her. He tried to think of her as Wife #1, but it was no use. Even though he married Karlene, then lived with Monica, and had more kids with both of them, he still loved Ginger. His carrot-top daughters looked just like her, and they’d be driving all the young SEAL sons crazy in a few years.
Are you crying, you dumb fuck?
Sure thing. Those tears are running down my neck and sinking into the pillow. I have nothing to feel sorry about—that is, unless I can’t get untied and I die here. Well, I’ve almost died several other places before. At least here there’s a soft mattress, and—and—some ladies’ things hanging over the chair.
His headache had roared back to life, but stalled a bit as he examined the light peach underwear and fuzzy slippers under the tall-backed chair done in red heart-patterned fabric. He tried to re-create his steps by imagining who might walk around for him right now in those unmentionables. Just do a little wiggle, maybe lean over, and let him have a taste of whatever fell out. Underwear was a big thing for Jake. Half the time, he liked his ladies to leave it on. It was a major turn-on for him.
Captain Commando was enjoying the stimulation, chuckling at him.
“You shut up!” he told his dick. Old Captain winked back at him and just laughed. It had gotten him in so much trouble, even ruined a perfectly good marriage—well, didn’t ruin it, but the misunderstanding festered, and they were done. A real shame, too. But after that? Oh yeah, it had ruined one relationship after another. Seemed like they were always on the outs when they’d get pregnant. Jake had child support that technically exceeded his pay. Now, the Congress should investigate that sorry state of affairs. But no, they worried about the Russians and Tweets and fake news.
His eyes went back to the lingerie. Nice stuff. Not just bought at a sex shop. The panties had a satin crotch, a little red heart embroidered on the backside to the left. Quality. The bra had ample lace and a big cup size. What did it look like on the lady? This one was definitely a lady. Not a hooker. Someone special. But why couldn’t he remember?
He closed his eyes again and told himself he was going to stop drinking. Oh yes, now he remembered. He was going to the spa to get a massage. And—and—he waited while the image came—his brother was there! Gerud would know what happened. He was making fun of him in the shower, getting ready for their massages. He drank the ice water and got to the treatment room, and those lovely hands began to work on him and he was—out! That’s the last thing he remembered. The padded table was warm. The flannel sheets smelled wonderful. A candle was burning before he put on the eye mask and lay down on his belly. She’d oiled her hands, and he was feeling a little woozy, and then nothing!
Jake’s LPO, Kyle Lansdowne had requested he start going to AA, and he began at a Men’s Meeting on Saturday mornings. The condition of those sorry guys worried him, and he didn’t go back. He didn’t want to sit and remind himself of his problems with drinking, but he knew that if he didn’t do something about it soon he’d be just like them. Sober was the right word for it—in all its meanings.
So he’d tried, really tried, to taper off the beer at first. Then he compromised and gave it up during the week. It had never been a problem during deployments. Somehow, he could stay sober. He was with his buds the whole time, so he couldn’t slink off somewhere and get plastered.
He peered at the peach lingerie again. Maybe it was the ladies. There weren’t any ladies like he liked overseas. And never the opportunity, unless he was off for a couple of days, staying over after a deployment. Then he could have some fun. And that always meant finding someone to spend a few days with, because he told himself he wasn’t just a “love them and leave them” type.
Of course, that’s exactly what he was.
Okay, so all those thoughts were getting to Captain Commando. “Got you, you little bastard,” he mumbled to his unit. “You’re not so feisty now, are you?”
Enough.
He had to find a way out of this bondage situation, because now it was beginning to worry him. The red marks on his wrists would remain after he was untied. Maybe someone was trying to do him in!
Could it be someone’s husband, ex-husband? Holy fuck! Another Team Guy? Is this payback for something?
He didn’t think it would be something from one of his exes. They’d want the child support. Even Monica, who’d come after him with an ax on their last day together and actually thrown the damned thing at him, wouldn’t do this. And this lingerie? That wouldn’t happen if someone wanted to off him. It was a tease. Someone knew his tastes and that he appreciated expensive lin
gerie, satin crotches and all. And if a guy was going to do it, well this MO wasn’t like anything his SEAL buds would do. Divorces and breakups were common. Everyone in the whole community understood that there was no way a guy would take another man’s girlfriend or wife, unless they were free to do so. It just wasn’t done. No matter how fucked up he’d gotten, he would never knowingly do that. No sisters, either, for sure no daughters or, well, there were a few mothers that looked pretty good at forty, but just a couple. Shannon’s mom, for one. And that lady definitely had the eyes for younger men. But no way.
Okay, time to get serious. This was unhealthy, and something had to be done.
“Help!” he shouted. “Somebody get the manager! Help me!”
He jammed his shoulders into the bedframe, making it rock against the wall. He kept it up. “Help!”
Sure enough, he heard a knock at the door.
“Mr. Green, is everything all right?” the muffled voice of someone on the other side of the door spoke.
“No. I need help!”
“Sir, I’m going to call security. Can you give me five minutes?”
“Go ahead, but I need to get out of here!”
“Calling right now, sir.”
Jake heard the walkie-talkie burping someone’s response and the voice of another stranger or two, probably people who had called to complain about the noise.
“They’re on their way, sir.”
“Great.”
“Are you in pain? Have you fallen?”
“No, goddammit. Some one has tied me up, and I can’t get loose.”
“We’ll be right there, sir.”
About thirty seconds later, he heard a keycard slip into the door lock, and he was faced with a manager in a red sport coat and a huge black security guard, armed to the teeth. They looked first at his outstretched arms and the red ribbon. Then both gentlemen focused on Captain Commando, who was waving hello.
Chapter 2
Gerud Green sipped on his Bloody Mary and then checked his watch, chewing the celery stick. He picked up his cell, but checked again for a text or call from Jake. It had been nearly two hours. Time to check his brother’s room.