New Years SEAL Dream Page 3

  He’d promised himself he wouldn’t be looking tonight and would keep his hands to himself. But his promise was going down in flames. He just wasn’t sure what he should do. He knew what he desired, but he didn’t want to take advantage of her, since he was fairly sure she was still pretty drunk.

  “I don’t do this,” he finally said.

  “I don’t, either.”

  “I mean—what I meant was, you’re drunk, and I don’t think it’s right to—”

  “If you’ve changed your mind, just say so. Don’t blame it on honor or some other BS, Tucker. I’m a big girl. I can smell a turn down when it’s coming. I’m used to it.”

  His heart was breaking for whatever her experiences had been in the past. It was clear there was some damage there. But it just didn’t add up. He could not see any reason she should feel that way.

  She’d started to stand, began to remove his jacket.

  “Wait, Brandy. You got it all wrong.”

  “It’s okay. Don’t patronize me.”

  “Damnit. I’m not patronizing you. Would you get that goddamned chip off your fuckin’ shoulder, Brandy? What I’m telling you is I’m attracted to you. And I don’t want to take advantage. I’m not that kind of guy.”

  He stood with her, putting the jacket back around her shoulders.

  “Cake?” A silver tray with slices of wedding cake was presented to them by one of the wait staff.

  Brandy eyed the tray, and Tucker could tell she wanted a piece. He took two plates. She was weaving slightly, so he guided her to sit back down. Then he got on his knees again, setting one plate aside. He cut a piece without frosting and held it in front of her. “Probably not the best thing for you to eat, but it might not be that bad.”

  She watched him while she opened her mouth. He placed the cake on her tongue.

  “Perfect. Delicious. More. With frosting,” she said.

  “Brandy, you sure?” He could see some of the earlier dreaminess return to her eyes.

  “What if I put some frosting here,” she said as she touched the top of her cleavage with her forefinger. “Or what if it got smeared lower. Would you lick it off?”

  Tucker’s knees were shaking as his groin refused to behave. He inhaled her scent and the way her eyes were half-lidded while she dipped her finger in the frosting and slowly slid it down between her breasts. She leaned back on the chair, spread her knees, and dared him with her eyes.

  His mouth watered as his tongue tasted her flesh beneath the sweet fluffy frosting. He sucked, pulling the top of her right breast into his mouth just short of creating a mark. But he wanted to. He wanted to see her naked, her nipples dripping with frosting, her sex wet with her desire for him. He needed to lose himself in those breasts as he took her deep.

  Her fingertips touched his temples. She kissed his forehead, holding his head to her chest. Then one hand slid down the outside of his shirt to his waistband.

  “Can I take you home with me?” she breathed into his ear.

  “Darlin’, I’ll go with you anywhere. You just name it.”

  “I should go get my shoes.”

  “I’ll get them. But I don’t think you’ll need them.”

  “Why?”

  “Because, sweetheart, I’m going to carry you.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “Because it’s just what’s done on New Years. You stay right here, and I’ll go get them. You think about having that perfect year. You think about what a perfect night would be like, and then let’s go do it. Okay?”

  He could feel her eyes on his back as he made his return to the party. One of the bridesmaids tried to drag him to the dance floor. She got his shirttails untucked from his waistband before he got away. In the corner were Brandy’s heels. He dipped to pick them up and sauntered right through the center of the dance floor, carrying his trophy in his right hand.

  He saw the looks. He saw the surprise. He saw Mr. Hanks nod and smile some secret appreciation. Dorie winked at him. Brawley gave him a thumbs up.

  He was back. Tucker was back in the real world. The night had turned from the biggest mistake of his life to something else quite extraordinary.

  It was going to be the best night of his life. And this was only the start of a new year.

  Chapter 4

  Brandy sat back in Tucker’s bright red truck that set so high she doubted she’d be able to mount it without help. But Tucker had placed her delicately on the seat, strapping her in securely, and then pressing a warm-up kiss to her willing lips. In his own way, he was gentle, but it took effort to not break or hurt things, she noted. The engine revved, and then the truck lurched, headed to Brandy’s cottage. She decided not to tell him her father lived in the house in front.

  The inside of the cab smelled like him. He fiddled and adjusted the heater, asking if she was comfortable. It was only a ten-minute ride, but in that short time, she noted how he and the huge truck were one giant machine, like a Transformer. The dash and black leather seats were immaculately polished. The floor mats washed like a brand new vehicle. She noted a little decal on the driver’s side of the windshield, shaped like an anchor.

  When they arrived at her cottage, she was grateful all the lights were out at her father’s house. Tucker insisted on carrying her to the front door and then let her slide down the front of him. There were bulging body parts she rubbed against, which would be impossible to miss.

  She fumbled for her keys and then led him inside.

  Tucker made her small living room feel even smaller. The cottage was a converted outbuilding. Therefore, the ceilings were a few inches lower than normal. He ducked and followed her to the single bedroom. Along the way, she asked, “You want anything to drink?”

  His eyes were fixated on her. The slow shake of his head was sexy and deliberate. “No ma’am.”

  “I’m going to need some help getting out of this.”

  “Just show me what to do.”

  “There are these hooks at the back,” she said as she turned to show him. “You have to undo them one at a time.”

  Tucker fumbled with the fabric and the closures. She could tell he was getting frustrated. “Holy cow, Brandy. How in the devil would you get yourself out of this thing by yourself?”

  “I can pull it over my head, but it would be easier if—”

  At last several of the hooks were released, and she was grateful for the extra breathing space.

  “You got it.”

  The bustier fell to the ground. Brandy unzipped her skirt and laid it over a chair. The ugly diaphragm-squeezing undergarment was the only thing between them. She removed her stockings and panties, and once again presented her back to him.

  “This is going to be hard. You have to unzip me here.”

  Tucker was on it, his huge fingers slipping beneath the off-white fabric, while his other hand grabbed the zipper and had it undone in just a couple of seconds.

  “Piece of cake.”

  The rush of air to her lungs was so sudden she nearly fainted again. He braced her before she could fall over. He pulled her to his chest while his hands took hold of her ass and squeezed until it hurt.

  She began to unbutton his shirt, then lifted the cotton tee shirt up, and kissed him, placing her palms over his pecs. She reached below, fingers creeping into his pants when he quickly undid his belt and stepped out of them.

  She was going to step to press herself against him, but he abruptly picked her up and brought her over to the bed, where he gently placed her down.

  “You have some protection?” he whispered as he kissed her neck. One callused hand squeezed her left breast and then slid down lower.

  She started to sit up to grab the condoms from the bedside table, but he pressed her back, rising to his knees and staring down at her.

  His hands massaged both boobs now. “You’re incredible. I think I’ve died and gone to Heaven,” he said as he nuzzled her cleavage, sucking and pinching her nipples. His scratchy beard tickled as his kissing
moved lower until he was at her core. His thumbs pressed her open, rubbing her nub as she shuddered with anticipation.

  She watched him pleasure her, his giant shoulders rising and falling as he dipped lower. He kept one hand massaging her breast. He was nearly delicate the way he explored with his fingers and tongue. It filled her with electricity as she heard him moan between her legs. She pulled his hair, massaged his temples, and then writhed to the feel of his fingers inside her, calling her to ride his hand and lose herself for him. She came up to her knees, reaching for his cock while she pressed herself into his giant palm.

  She gripped him, moving up and down, squeezing his balls and covering his tip with precum. After some minutes of play, she raised herself up and reached for the drawer, bringing out the condom, then tearing it open with her teeth. As she looked up to him in the moonlight, their mouths closed on each other, tongues exploring, becoming more and more intense. Her fingers slid the thin condom down his shaft and massaged him while they finished their slow, sensuous kiss.

  Tucker leaned back and brought her up on top of him. With her knees hugging his hips, he gripped her body, snagging her sex on his cock and then pressing her down so he was deep inside her.

  He was urgent to move against her, raising and lowering her on him, drawing the rhythm faster and faster until he quickly picked her up, threw her back against the mattress, and mounted her. Plunging deep, he buried his head in her chest.

  They moved together like old dance partners, reveling in the miracle that was their bodies. Beneath him, she felt delicate. She melted under his kiss, rising again into multiple orgasms as he plundered and then softened his penetration.

  He was an innovative lover, consumed with desire for her, yet very attentive to her needs, begging her to come and then thanking her as she shattered beneath him over and over again. She knew that as the minutes turned into the early pre-dawn hours of the morning, she had never before felt so loved, so coveted and consumed. As the first rays of early dawn shone through the window, he held her close as he came hard and deep inside her, then folded her into his arms, and fell asleep.

  She worried her beating heart would wake him as she luxuriated in the heat between them. Every cell in her body screamed for him. Her ear was pressed against his chest, and she listened as air filled his lungs and then expelled. Her skin was bathed in the sweet sweat between their bodies, the way her legs wrapped around his enormous thighs, and how his arms squeezed her so tight it rivaled the bustier just before she fell asleep.

  But in the shelter of his arms, there was room to breathe, and finally to dream about a perfect evening, and the beginning of a perfect year.

  Chapter 5

  A sliver of bright sunlight traveled slowly across Tucker’s face like a laser. At first, he startled, since his own apartment was heavily draped in blackout shades. Even on workdays, he was able to sleep in until at least eight. This seemed just minutes from when he’d last closed his eyes.

  And then he felt her moist flesh melting all over him. He carefully opened one eye to peer at the lovely brunette resting on his chest. Her lips were still puckered and red, her cheek bulging against her nose. And she drooled!

  He tilted his head back to avoid giving a belly laugh that would surely wake her. He didn’t want to be robbed of these delicious moments. How could he have met a girl who drooled in her sleep?

  He scanned the walls of her bedroom. She had tacked several tissue paper sketches of what looked like produce labels and several other ones of large flowers done in chalk or pencil. There was a sketch of a light pink sandy beach cradling white surf coming from a bright turquoise ocean. He noticed a poster made from a picture of Brandy dressed in a large purple grape costume. She was holding a bottle of wine and standing next to Dorie, in an identical costume. Their legs were bright purple from the knees down as they stood in a large stainless steel vat, stomping grapes.

  She had a calendar with pictures of beaches from around the world and a photo of her as a young girl sitting beside an older gentleman driving a tractor at a pumpkin farm. Her burgundy bustier and bridesmaid skirt were draped over an easy chair, mixed with his black pants, white shirt, and red white and blue cotton boxers. He was a little embarrassed at the rah rah in his underwear, but he couldn’t help it. It was the way he was.

  Her bookshelf burst with paperbacks, spilling over onto the floor in several stacks. It appeared every one of them had a picture of a naked man on the cover. The bedside table still gaped with the open drawer containing a box of condoms. He noticed she owned a bright pink vibrator, and that nearly ruined his composure.

  But it was all good. All normal. These were the trappings of a woman he’d been trained to protect. Her precious way of life was valuable, something worth saving. This was evidence that what he’d done as an elite warrior was all worth it. He hoped to God she never had to endure some of the things he’d seen out there on the other side of the planet, where children inhaled a steady diet of uncertainty, misery, and smoke from the ashes of their crumbling civilization that knew nothing but war. His job was to make sure that war stayed there and didn’t come home.

  Brandy was moving against him, stroking him like she’d done so delicately last night. Her pubic bone pressed into his thigh. He raised his knee to help intensify the feeling.

  At last, she placed her chin on his sternum and fed from his eyes. What did she see? He hoped she wasn’t disappointed. He wasn’t. He remembered every kiss, every stroke, every shudder, and every time he pinned her to the bed with her arms outstretched, as if he could will himself to climb inside her and shelter in place.

  She was twirling his frosty chest hairs, biting her lip, and waiting to say something, or waiting for him to speak first. But he didn’t feel under any pressure to talk so he just watched this dark angel with the red lips he was ravenous for. He wanted to see her enormous breasts bounce in the morning sun as she writhed above him. He wanted to see her face as he filled her, made her come.

  She opened her mouth to say something when the door to her living room opened and a man’s voice called out, “Brinny?”

  Brandy scrambled to sit up, taking the sheet with her, which left Tucker completely exposed. If the man in the next room came to the doorway, he’d also notice the enormous hard-on Tucker had developed.

  She smirked, whispering, “My father.”

  He sprung to action and quickly slipped on his patriotic boxers, but remained seated on the bed.

  “Just a minute dad. I’ve got someone here,” she shouted to the next room. Twisting the sheet around her, she stepped to the doorway. Tucker got a nice view of her shapely rear, her long mahogany hair falling everywhere about her shoulders and upper back. He’d kissed every vertebra last night, kneaded the cheeks of her ass until she squealed. She could take everything he could give out, and then some. He hated having to be careful in his sex play. Brandy played at the same intensity.

  “Oh, fine. Look, I’m headed off to the store. You coming in today?”

  “Maybe later this afternoon. Would that work?”

  “Sure. Sorry I didn’t let you know yesterday, but I’m going to be one short today. If you can, that would really help me out.”

  “No problem, Dad. How about one or two o’clock?”

  “Great. Hey, how was the wedding?”

  She adjusted her sheet again, briefly shooting him a gaze as Tucker lay back on the pillow, his hands clasped behind his head. “Dorie was gorgeous. You should have come. They had a great band, lots of people you knew were there.”

  “A friend of Brawley’s?” her dad whispered, but Tucker could hear it clearly.

  Brandy nodded. “Dad, I’ve gotta go.”

  “No problem. See you later on this afternoon.”

  The door closed behind him.

  Tucker watched her face recovering from the blush that also sent pink blotches to her upper chest. “That was awkward,” she mumbled, fiddling with her fingers and refusing to look back at him.


  He was charmed with the blush, but even more interested in getting the sheet off her. “Come here,” he whispered.

  Her face pinked up again, and he chuckled.

  “After all the things we did last night, you expect me to believe you’re really shy?”

  She began twirling her hair around her forefinger, still avoiding eye contact.

  “Come here, Brandy. Just for a little bit. Then I’d like to take you out to breakfast. I’m thinking pancakes.”

  Her large brown eyes snapped to attention. She crawled on all fours toward him. By the time she reached him, the sheet had been left behind. Her breasts overflowed in his hands as her young body undulated over his groin, pressing against the ridge of his hardness. Her fingers deftly slid his boxers down over his thighs while she guided him to her core. He held the sides of her hips, raised her up, and then plunged her back down on him.

  Then he remembered. They’d forgotten the condom. Again. With his fingers digging into her flesh, he stopped her movements completely, knowing he had to ask the question and leave it up to her.

  “Is it okay?”

  “It’s perfect,” she blew back at his face, and then she kissed him.

  The Samoan Pancake House was always a Team favorite on weekends. But today was a holiday so the place was packed. He nodded to several former Teammates, a couple of whom were at the wedding last night.

  She chose a corner at the back of the restaurant, and ordered.

  “So you used to serve with Brawley, right?”

  “About ten years ago. We grew up together in Oregon.”

  “You’re from Oregon?”

  He noticed she had a dimple to the right of her mouth, which was cuter than all heck.

  “What?”

  “You have a very sexy dimple right there.” He touched the spot and loved her blush, as she held his hand.

  “I love it up there. My parents had plans to retire near McMinville, but my mom passed before they could sell everything and go do it. Now Dad’s stuck with the store.”