Band of Bachelors: Alex, Book 2 Read online

  For the first time in his life, he didn’t have a plan. This had never been a goal of his. Wasn’t a direction he consciously moved towards. But he was here now. And in his arms was the most precious thing he’d ever experienced. It wasn’t just the sex, although that was part of it certainly; it was the unrelenting life force of this lady who knocked him on his butt and made him look at his life as something incomplete without her.

  And everything that had occurred up until now was just the path leading him here.

  He wished she was awake, but he enjoyed the warm sweaty feel of her body halfway laying across his. She liked to be on top, he mused. His eyes watered as he felt her stir.

  Then he’d be her foundation. He’d be her rock until he could no longer hold the bounds of his being together before letting it all fly off to Heaven.

  Her forefinger encircled his nipple. Her breathing became deeper as her lithe body awakened to his day, charming every place her skin touched his. What a glorious way to wake up. Warriors throughout history were sent off to battle by the women who loved them, but none so grand as he was being sent by today.

  “You’re deep in thought, Alex. Share a little sample with me,” she whispered and then kissed his chest, exploring with her tongue.

  “I hesitate to say anything. I admonished you for talking too much last night.” Her head popped up, and they shared a friendly smile. “And I so enjoyed the punishment, Alex.”

  “I need you to speak into my phone, so I can hear you say my name. I want to play it like a hundred times a day.”

  She arched on her elbows, bracing on his torso. His fingers luxuriously laced up and down her back, smoothing over her ass. The contour and feel of her body was even better than the view.

  Sydney had been studying him. “So I pose the question again, talk to me, Alex.”

  At first he couldn’t speak. She lightly traced the ridge of his left ear, slipping her three fingers down his cheek, following his jawline and then over his lips. Her thumbs moved upward, gently rubbing his eyebrows. She squeezed his earlobes between her thumb and first two fingers. He could feel her nipples harden against him as she inhaled what he was thinking and could not find words for.

  She angled her head and smiled again. “You can’t can you?”

  It was true. He had no words. He drew his hand up to cover his eyes, and she captured it. “Then let me say it.”

  His breath hitched like he’d been exposed to a cold wind. He waited for what she was going to say next, hoping it would be something that wouldn’t shatter their last morning together.

  “I don’t want you to go. I don’t want this day to end with a good-bye.”

  He clutched her buttocks, bringing her into his groin. He quickly slipped from under her and pressed her into the bed, his hands on her face as he kissed her smile of pleasure. “Say it again, Sydney. Tell me again.”

  “I don’t want you to go.”

  Could it really be? Could this be the dreaded “L” word creeping into his world? Is that what this feeling was? She was already a part of him, the best part of him, the part of him that would ache like the dickens on that airplane all those hours while he missed this, the part of him that would make him crash through anything and any obstacle to come back to her. His woman.

  He angled himself to enter her as if it was the first, as every time was for him now. The words were there, but his tongue wouldn’t cooperate. There was a frog in his throat. He arched upward as she pulled him inside her, her fists grabbing the flesh of his butt cheeks. He looked down on her smiling face as the wash of wonderful flesh on flesh consumed him. “Sydney,” he whispered.

  She waited with that knowing smile, matching his movements but her eyes remained tightly fixed on him. She knew. She knew what he so desperately wanted to say.

  Her warm channel hugged him. Her thigh slung over his hip, reminding him how much he needed her body to show him how to be a real man.

  She was shattering beneath him, almost as if she were suffering bravely. It was tears she was holding back. They thickly rolled from the corners of her eyes, onto the pillow with dark gray stains. Her body began to shake, but she wouldn’t stop looking at him.

  Was he somehow hurting her, while his body demanded satisfaction? He could not stop.

  His arms slid between her warm, beautiful back and the mattress, as he pulled her up into his arms. She let her head roll back as if she was in a freefall. He held her shaking body wishing he could find the words he knew she wanted to hear.

  His seed came with satisfying grace, so much more intense now that he knew whatever he felt between them, she felt the same.

  He watched over her, tenderly kissing her while her orgasm pulsed, wearing her body out like a rag. He gently guided her home, back to the here and now, back from the peak of their passion to the real world where they stood side by side, as the perfect team.

  He’d defend her to the ends of the earth. Nothing in the world would keep him from coming home to this woman. No price was too great to pay, no sacrifice too dear. She had opened up the future to him, and he knew he would never be the same.

  Chapter 18

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  The team assembled in their SEAL Team 3 hangar, even the men who were staying behind. Kyle had asked that they bring every extra piece of firepower they owned, since they’d be riding military all the way and wouldn’t be under the restrictions of commercial travel. There was government issue, and then there was every man’s personal tastes when it came to weaponry. It also indicated to the men that for this fight it was important to use what they were comfortable with and accustomed to using—a sure sign they were in for some rough times.

  Alex sat beside Cory and Ryan, his other roommates. Luke sat in front of them with two other team guys who were also not going on the mission. Coop and Fredo sat in the front row near Kyle.

  Danny Begay was not his normal stoic self, nor was he sociable. The Navajo weapons and explosives specialist sat all alone in the last row of their little theater while Kyle went over the drill.

  “Begay, you with us?” Kyle barked.

  There was no quick response on Danny’s part. Alex could only imagine how the man felt. He’d been trying for nearly a year to get the little boy out of Iraq after the sacrifice of his military father. Alex knew Danny considered it a debt to be paid in full and would not rest until it had been.

  As SEALs, they could cut through anything and be the ones to “get ’er done,” as their training required. But cutting through bureaucratic red tape was something they had trouble with. No one could understand how anyone could object to Ali and the other orphans in the temporary shelter coming to the States to families who would give them a new life. While everyone held their breath and waited, the children were looked after by some UN aid workers. And now something was seriously wrong with that arrangement. Alex was about to find out how wrong.

  Danny looked up slowly, but kept his crooked slouch position, one boot on the crossbar of the chair in front of him, his hands in his lap fiddling with a bright red slingshot. The man was legendary how accurate he was with that thing, especially with the stainless steel balls he carried. But he could be just as accurate with a pebble or piece of glass. With his hunting skills, he was the most lethal killer the Team had when it came to perfectly silent hand-to-hand combat. When he threw knives, Danny never missed.

  Ali was Danny’s project and although he sat alone, the whole Team was there to make sure this time Danny got to bring Ali back.

  “So here’s the problem with our mission. The kids and aid workers—and we think there are four workers and ten children now, down from twelve kids—” Kyle flashed a stern look back at Danny who appeared as if he wanted to punch someone “—so we go in not knowing who’s still alive. Our intel has told us only that they took the group up near Mosul, to the ISIS-held territory. The aid workers who were going to be released are now being classified as hostages. We have two from Uganda, one from Sweden, and one from Bulgaria.�
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  T.J. Talbot raised his hand and barked before being given permission. “When was this? And are we sure they aren’t still on the road?”

  “They were picked up by an Army personnel carrier, one of ours, by the way, a present to the Iraqi forces upon our departure, except it got captured or sold to ISIS. They traveled along with supplies for their training camp, which we think is here.” Kyle pointed to a red X slightly south of Mosul. “Although not spotted, we believe they made it up there in five hours due to road conditions. We have satellite images to thank for that. Unfortunately, most APCs look alike and from the sky don’t tell us who is in them or in what condition.”

  This was an area the SEALs had known well, since earlier operations involving snatch and grabs were conducted in nearby villages before the SEALs were tasked to train Iraqi forces who would turn so they would later become their opposition in the killing fields. It was never lost on any of them that they had trained their adversaries to fight just like they did. And the US forces had generously left them great equipment to use as well. Some of the fighters were formidable, and they had an endless supply of willing recruits ready to die for their cause if they failed.

  “We’re going to drop in here. The Kurds will get us to the border, but we’re not using any Iraqis except for your terp,” Kyle pointed to a thin man who was dressed in camo, but without the tats and bulging arms he looked more like a shopkeeper.

  Coop was on his feet so fast he literally bumped into T.J. who was rushing to the terp’s side. “Jackie!”

  Alex had never worked with this man before, but he knew the Iraqi interpreter had saved many of their lives over the tours his other teammates had gone on. His nickname was Jackie Daniels, his alias given him because it was easy to remember and didn’t give the man’s true identity. It was a huge asset to have him along, especially if they had to embed in a village or town and not be noticed.

  Alex took his cue from Kyle, who watched the hasty reunion with little joy. He wondered if Kyle wasn’t getting tired of seeing people he loved and respected placed in harm’s way, especially for something that should not have happened. It was becoming a broken record these days. Missing machinery, parts, ammunition, people killed due to lack of preparation. Lives sacrificed while reaching for another weapon to help defend their brothers.

  He saw in Kyle’s face the wear and tear of the burden of planning, executing and bearing the brunt of the decisions, and then the burden of the explanations when things didn’t go as planned.

  Alex knew that although tired and nearly thirty-five years of age, having spent over fifteen years as a SEAL, Kyle would tell him, if he dared to ask, that it was the job he was made for. That gave Alex courage. Someday he’d transmit that courage to younger SEALs coming up the ranks. Take their testy asses and make men out of them. Men their mothers would love in life and honor in death if need be. It was a man’s work to defend the innocent. At some point in the development of a hardened SEAL, the laughter and smack talk happened only to let off steam and not to be a hotshot. It was the way they kept the cobwebs that preceded Dr. Death and his absurd zombie ambulance crew from claiming any of them.

  The rest of the instructions went quick. He fist-bumped Ryan and Cory, who already looked up to him because he was chosen to put his life on the line, and they were chosen to be backup.

  “You keep their focus here, okay? Something happens, you guys yell and scream and make sure we aren’t cut off with our dicks hanging, hear?” He followed it up with a smile just so they didn’t think he was really serious.

  Except of course, he was.

  Of all the rides to the sandbox, this one was the worst. Maybe it was because he’d spent so much time smoothing and kissing Miss Sydney’s silky skin, and listening to subtle changes in the way she breathed, in the way she talked to herself when she didn’t think he was listening. He could see her standing on a beach in her skimpy bathing suit.

  Damn, I’ve not seen that action. When he got back, he intended to have her show him all her best moves. He’d reward her with kisses anywhere she wanted and he’d make love to her in the sand if she wanted it bad enough. Made no difference to him. Even going shopping for fresh fruit, red meat, and wine would be an orgasmic experience for him. These were all things he now realized he had never had.

  He’d fix that shit soon as he returned.

  Mark was throwing up from the ride, heaving into a plastic bag. Coop let T.J. tend to him, finally giving him a shot for his nausea. Fredo was discussing child rearing with Coop. Alex knew damn well Coop could only hear every other word, and with Fredo’s heavily accented Spanglish and “isms,” his phobias for health food and anything green except chilies and cilantro, Coop was probably hearing a story or an opinion he’d heard already twice today. Fredo never seemed to catch on that he could be boring as hell. No one had the heart to tell him because of the size of his dedication to the Team.

  Kyle was asleep, and Alex was glad for that.

  He looked at all the faces of the men he served with, all of whom left someone special at home. All except Jake. Because Coop probably told Kyle about Sydney. The ones left behind were single. He wondered if that was intentional.

  Damn right it is. There wasn’t anything Kyle did that wasn’t in a plan. But he also wondered why he sent the married or committed ones in and not the unattached. Maybe it had to do with the children, and what these men might be able to emotionally handle. Maybe he didn’t want the ones who could detach from the sight of kids being abused.

  They landed after dark in the northern border region with Turkey. A small band of Kurdish fighters checked them out carefully, making eye contact with each of them. The shared expression of resolve gave the mission a higher likelihood of success. It was always the same with them. Tough as nails, defending their land filled with refugees from all over, camping out in fields their grandfathers had farmed, sharing their cattle, their water, maybe their women, but fighting just the same to preserve what they were forced to share.

  He liked these guys. They were smart. Worst thing about their situation was that they didn’t have the pull with either the US or with Turkey, and certainly not with the Bagdad government. He’d spent an afternoon pawing through dead bodies after one especially bloody engagement with the enemy on his first deployment. No ammunition could be left behind for two reasons: it either could come back to get you or it would leave a good Kurdish fighter without the means to defend himself, or you.

  After his first tour, that dream of checking pockets and vests, finding pictures of wives and babies amongst the dead enemy, looking for intel and ammunition, had kept him awake at night. It wasn’t the sort of thing he could get rid of with a few beers or a woman who wanted to impress a SEAL with her own moves. He just had to wait it out until the bright memory faded into a gray fog.

  When those visions stopped fading, that’s when he knew he’d be done. Or when going to bed became something he dreaded because he couldn’t do it any longer. If he needed pills, he was done.

  They moved quietly in a convoy without lights. The mission had been planned for a full moon, and the stars were always bright in this region of the world because of the lack of big electric grids. Moonlight made the roadside look wet like they were jeeping it down for a midnight swim in San Diego. Only thing they couldn’t see without their NV headsets were the whites of the animals who dared to live here despite the carnage. Mostly skinny dogs. The fighters told him at one time the land was plentiful with small animals.

  The building they were to sleep in for a few hours was an abandoned school that contained a fallout shelter, of all things. Two Kurdish men had guarded the place so they didn’t have to take up valuable time clearing the structure—except Kyle insisted they do so anyhow.

  The yellow radioactive sticker was nearly removed from the latch cover to the shelter. Some enemy forces had been routed out six months ago, but not before they had created a tunnel system that went who knows where. Figuring that out was going
to be their job, but not until the light of day came upon them. Right now, they had to settle, eat a little, and get some sleep, taking turns.

  Jake handed him a piece of goat jerky he’d picked up at the village in Turkey. It was actually quite good.

  “They make this for us, you know. They don’t eat goat in that village, but they have a rather good cottage industry selling it to Special Forces coming through. Look how they spell Teriyaki.”

  Alex laughed at the “Terri Yaqi” label. “As long as it isn’t poisoned.”

  “Nah. They said it was okay,” he answered pointing to their transportation and guard team.

  “Gives you terrible farts,” Jackie added. “Careful or it will announce your approach.”

  Alex and Jake chuckled.

  “So you have two little ones now, Jackie, right?”

  “Yes, Mr. T.J. Trying to keep up with you. But see, I’m a smaller man. You are the virile American.”

  “Horseshit. Being tall has nothing to do with it. It’s how healthy you eat,” said Coop. Fredo scowled and turned to the wall, pretending to take a nap.

  Danny was listening to the wind above them. Little pebbles were pinging on top of the metal roof of the school. “Sandstorm,” he whispered. “And I smell rain.”

  “No shit?” Jake said. “You can smell rain?”

  “Personally, I think it’s donkey piss,” said Jackie with a grin.

  Danny leaned into the three of them, “Do you know the worst place you can be during a lightning storm and flash flood?” he asked.

  Alex knew what he was going to say before he actually did.

  Jake was going to be the wiseguy. “On an all metal, fully-lit-up Ferris wheel?”

  “Shush,” Kyle whispered. “Get some rest because tomorrow’s a big day.”

  Alex sat back. If it was ten hours’ difference, then it would be close to noon at home. He’d be lounging by the pool, trying to coax that suit off Sydney, and making her dance for him on the diving board. And then he’d let her dance on his lap and send him to Heaven.