Bone Frog Bachelor (Bachelor Tower Series) Read online

  Bone Frog Bachelor

  Bone Frog Bachelor Series

  Book 1

  Sharon Hamilton

  Sharon Hamilton’s Book List

  SEAL BROTHERHOOD BOOKS

  SEAL BROTHERHOOD SERIES

  Accidental SEAL Book 1

  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

  Fredo’s Dream Book 8

  SEAL My Love Book 9

  SEAL Encounter Prequel to Book 1

  SEAL Endeavor Prequel to Book 2

  Ultimate SEAL Collection Vol. 1 Books 1-4 /2 Prequels

  Ultimate SEAL Collection Vol. 2 Books 5-7

  BAD BOYS OF SEAL TEAM 3 SERIES

  SEAL’s Promise Book 1

  SEAL My Home Book 2

  SEAL’s Code Book 3

  Big Bad Boys Bundle Books 1-3

  BAND OF BACHELORS SERIES

  Lucas Book 1

  Alex Book 2

  Jake Book 3

  Jake 2 Book 4

  Big Band of Bachelors Bundle

  BONE FROG BROTHERHOOD SERIES

  New Year’s SEAL Dream Book 1

  SEALed At The Altar Book 2

  SEALed Forever Book 3

  SEAL’s Rescue Book 4

  SEALed Protection Book 5

  SUNSET SEALS SERIES

  SEALed at Sunset

  Second Chance SEAL

  Treasure Island SEAL

  Escape to Sunset

  The House at Sunset Beach

  SILVER SEALS SERIES

  SEAL Love’s Legacy

  SLEEPER SEALS SERIES

  Bachelor SEAL

  BONE FROG BACHELOR SERIES

  Bone Frog Bachelor

  STAND ALONE BOOKS & SERIES

  SEAL’s Goal: The Beautiful Game

  Nashville SEAL: Jameson

  True Blue SEALS Zak

  Paradise: In Search of Love

  Love Me Tender, Love You Hard

  NOVELLAS

  SEAL You In My Dreams Magnolias and Moonshine

  PARANORMALS

  GOLDEN VAMPIRES OF TUSCANY SERIES

  Honeymoon Bite Book 1

  Mortal Bite Book 2

  Christmas Bite Book 3

  Midnight Bite Book 4

  THE GUARDIANS

  Heavenly Lover Book 1

  Underworld Lover Book 2

  Underworld Queen Book 3

  Redemption Book 4

  FALL FROM GRACE SERIES

  Gideon: Heavenly Fall

  NOVELLAS

  SEAL Of Time Trident Legacy

  All of Sharon’s books are available on Audible, narrated by the talented J.D. Hart.

  About the Book

  I have done it all. I have built three global security companies, including foreign subsidiaries which include an airline company and a shipping conglomerate, partnered with some of the biggest industry titans in the realm of international trade. But my love is in protecting and securing the safety of those I care about.

  And I’ve done this, as it turns out, at the expense of my own security and fortune. I’ve cared for everyone else’s assets, and left mine wide open to plunder.

  Well, that was then. This is now. This is me fighting back. I’m going to screw that b**** of a former wife, who, while she was screwing me in my own bed, was slutting with other men. I was naive, but now, fully awakened, I will have my revenge.

  And it will be sweet!

  Begin Reading

  Dedication

  About the Author

  Table of Contents

  Copyright © 2020 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 operates 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

  About the Author

  Reviews

  SEAL Prayer

  Chapter 1

>   Marco

  I have done it all. I built three global security companies, plus foreign subsidiaries including an airline company and a shipping conglomerate. I used my skills and training as a former Navy SEAL and partnered with some of the biggest industry titans in the realm of international trade. But my love has always been in protecting and securing the safety of my country and those I care about.

  And I did this, as it turns out, at the expense of my own security and fortune. I cared for everyone else’s assets and left mine wide open to plunder.

  Well, that was then. Now I’m fighting back. I plan to screw that bitch of a former wife who, while she was screwing me in my own bed, was slutting with other men. I was naive, but now, fully awakened, I will have my revenge.

  It’s a very simple two-step process: One: Get even. Two: Create massive success by re-capturing the wealth I lost playing the marriage game. Payback and wealth creation are the best forms of revenge a man can conjure up. Maybe it wasn’t the road to happiness, but it’s the road I’m taking, with my team of specialized agents. My revenge would be sweet, and the screwing her over wouldn’t have any bedroom on the horizon.

  Happiness was an illusion. I believed being happy was running hard and screwing harder next to a woman I thought was a racehorse, like myself. She ran a lean takeover operation of my assets. Maybe she would have upped it to the optimum level, since we had no children. She would have been my sole beneficiary. While I wasn’t looking, the person I thought I was closest to dug in deep through opportunity and, yeah, because I’m a good guy at heart.

  No more. Fuck Mr. Good Guy. I’ll be taking no prisoners. I’m a vacuum cleaner in a phonebooth full of million-dollar bills. And yes, they do exist. The Treasury Department printed some for me so I could frame one to hang in my office.

  Tony Abruzzo told me about The Bachelor Towers (lots of sound effects there…or at least there were every time he spoke those words). He said it was mostly inhabited by younger men of my ilk. Up-and-comers and monied trust fund babies who could be my sons, if I’d been a bad boy in high school and knocked someone up.

  At first, I wasn’t interested. I was still seething from the betrayal Rebecca had played against me, taking half my wealth and costing me most of the other half defending what I had left. The anger was fresh with me. And since I never gave up, I knew it would never go away until it was satisfied. Those fires quenched.

  I remembered that conversation well—when he “sold” me on the idea just like he’d sold me Bentleys over the years.

  “Marco, one thing’s for sure, with the average bachelor age being around thirty-five, there won’t be many women over that age. Ripe, beautiful. Looking for love and money. And I’ll bet many of them are tired of boys—or boys trying to behave like real men. You’ve got the experience they crave. Been a Navy SEAL and have the scars to prove it. You came from nothing and carved your way out with years doing hard time on the battlefields and used it to your advantage. You’re smart. You’re lean and primed for some old-fashioned good times you so richly deserve.”

  “You’re forgetting one thing, I’m focused on revenge,” I told him that day.

  “Even better. They love men who are driven to obsession.”

  “Why would that be?”

  “Because a man who can’t fight can’t fuck. You remember that quote from Patton?”

  “Yeah, we used to say it every night in Coronado after we got our leave.”

  “Women love to be the object of desire by a man who knows better. Not a man who is beginning to get the lay of the land. They want an experienced lover who will ride them wet and leave them panting for more. You’re the original Italian Stallion, Marco. You’re the guy they’ve been looking for their whole lives.”

  I must have looked skeptical, but I was seriously chewing on the idea.

  “Here’s an added bonus,” Tony said as he sipped his purple martini that looked like it could be a Dr. Death cocktail. “You don’t even have to tell them to flaunt it in front of your ex. Women love to do that shit all the time. It’s human nature to them. It’s the, “‘see what a prize you threw away?’” stuff. Wars were fought over this, Marco. You know I’m right.”

  He had several valid points, and then I investigated.

  So here I was, walking into the marble foyer of the Bachelor Towers in Boston. It wasn’t much to relocate from New York City proper, and I was done with that whole life anyway. Boston had plays and musicals, opera, art galleries, museums and parks. And before I decided, I spent a day just walking around the city, finding its people were real, gritty, and not snobby like New Yorkers could be. It had great restaurants, lots of movers and shakers there. I would still maintain my apartment in D.C. so I could slip in and out without detection and with the security and anonymity I required since a lot of my business was generated there. Rebecca didn’t know about the safe house in Coronado and the lot in Florida, if the shit really hit the fan.

  And it almost got that bad.

  Everything that was important to me was in the small black leather duffel bag with the Bone Frog logo on it in my left hand. My right hand held a half dozen hangars of suits I couldn’t bear to part with. These had been specially made for me in Hong Kong and South Korea, sewn of the finest wool and linen blends, the seaming thread so lightweight it almost floated. Everything else I left with the brownstone in New York. I even left her my jewelry and my wedding ring. I didn’t want any taint of it permeating my new life as a bachelor.

  Since the reception desk was empty, I looked for the person whose job it was to greet the residents of the Bachelor Towers, the person who I would probably get fired. I crossed the lobby to the neat bar sparsely packed with couples and three-somes, speaking in hushed tones. A piano player tinkled the ivories in the background. The bartender, Oliver, I’d been told had been stolen from the Waldorf. Hired for his discretion, he knew the tastes of just about any living legend, down to the number of orange peel slices, shavings or sizes of the ice cubes. I needed a drink badly.

  “Sir? What do you require?”

  I liked his attitude right away. His green eyes and slight brogue were charming. He’d taken this job to come home, I deduced.

  “Something muddy, smokey, with an orange aftertaste. Not too sweet. Give me my next favorite signature drink, please, Oliver, if I may call you that?”

  He surveyed the clothing I was carrying. “You may indeed.” Placing a coaster on the countertop he snapped his fingers. A young, handsome Filipino bellman relieved me of my load, moving in the corner of the bar, in the shadows like a clothes tree, awaiting further instructions. Again, very impressive.

  “And what may I have the pleasure of calling you, sir?”

  “I’m one of your new tenants, Marco Gambini.” I hesitated to mention the vacant front desk, knowing it might be career-ending, but I decided to go with truth. “And your front desk is missing an attendant.”

  “Yes, Brent is attending to a little escort out the back of the building. It’s where we deposit the detritus, and it’s unfortunate you happened to come along during that moment. I’m sure he’ll be back shortly. And I apologize. This is on the house, Sir.”

  He pointed to a deep purple/cobalt cocktail floating with some heady orange cream liquor, the red pitchfork plastic stir had skewered a bright red cherry. I liked the visual of the screwed cherry, though I didn’t like things too sweet. I sipped. Hint of fizz. Orange and roses aftertaste. Pure sex. I was hooked.

  I held the squat etched glass up to him, “Perfect. What do you call it?”

  “Midnight in Manhattan, sir.”

  “I like it even better.”

  I loosened my tie and unbuttoned my shirt. I felt comfortable studying the room. A young, very lean, blonde girl came up to me, sort of like the house pussycat. With practiced grace and subtle fragrance in a form-fitting dress that revealed how perfect her body was, she joined me at the bar.

  I usually like to talk last. This time, I was going to tell her I was
n’t interested, but she beat me to the punch.

  “So you are the legendary Marco Gambini, the billionaire SEAL?” She interrupted my possible answer to give her command, “Ollie, another one of those for me, with two cherries, please, and don’t let him pay for it.”

  That’s when she turned to me and I did like what I saw.

  “You’re timing is poor, sweetheart. I’m no longer a billionaire.”

  “Oh, I think not. I don’t judge men by their performance but by their potential.” She glanced me up and down like a man does to a beautiful woman. “I’d like to be your first date, sort of a “‘welcome to the family’” kind of fuck, if you’d do me the honor.”

  She got me laughing right away, and that was a good sign. I liked women forward, assured, and beautiful. She was nearly half my age, and that worked too, in all sorts of ways.

  Brently Morrison, the front desk manager, burst into the bar, his hands wringing, breathless. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Gambini. We had a difficult situation, and I was pulled—”

  “Brent, I think we’re good,” interrupted Oliver. “If you can show Lujan here to Mr. Gambini’s room, he’ll hang these things up for our new resident.” He turned to me. “Is that to your liking, sir?”

  As I leaned back into the bar, the blonde moved close enough that I could feel how her body breathed, something I always loved about a woman. “Just one drink, and then I’d like to get settled. It’s been a long day.”

  With another couple snaps of his fingers, Ollie sent Lujan, my suits, and duffel with Mr. Morrison. I still had the Glock tucked into the back of my pants since I never could get the feel of wearing a holster for the animal. I turned and caught her forcing a stabbed cherry between her red lips, biting and chewing it while gazing at me with steely light blue eyes.

  I figured Oliver would have warned me if she was a working girl. I had always thought sleeping with women other than my wife to be a stupid hazard many a man regretted later. Especially without a blood test or background check.

  But I was getting reckless in my old age. In my rage. Or maybe I was mistrusting my new-found freedom when it came to women. I’d always been tightly bound in my commitments, still fingering the groove left behind from fifteen years of wearing a wedding ring. Moving in here would be a doorway to my new bachelor lifestyle and I liked to stake out the terrain, notice the little things that could result in a failed mission to guard the safety of my men. I turned around just to make sure Rebecca wasn’t there watching me take the morsel dangled in front of me—someone I knew I’d thoroughly enjoy.