Crazed (Se7en Deadly SEALs Book 3)

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ublisher’s Note
: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

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* * *

D
angerous
, diabolical, and drop-dead sexy Mitch stood above me, stroking his huge, hard cock. Millions of women would kill to be in my position right now, pinned down on this red velvet bed, the object of lust by a fine-ass Navy SEAL.

But not me, and not
this
SEAL. My heart belonged to another man, Mitch’s Teammate, Grant.

Bile built in my throat. I couldn’t stop staring at the scar near Mitch’s hipbone. The deep dark, divot—a mark I was certain I’d been the one to inflict. Every cell in my body screamed at me that he had been the one who’d attacked me years ago.

I’d vowed this would not happen to me again, training for six months to be able to defend myself from any type of attack. But bringing down a Navy SEAL? Even the most well-oiled warriors were no match for these frogmen.

I steadied my breath and my eyes darted around the dimly lit room. The green neon exit sign beckoned me toward it, but running out of this club wasn’t an option. And Grant wasn’t going to swoop in and save me this time. The way I figured it, I had two options: gouge Mitch’s eyes out—not simply poke them, but blind the motherfucker by ripping his pupils from the sockets—or somehow use the only weapon I had, my brain.

“Mitch, handsome devil, what it is the rush? We have together all night. I tell to you what—let me dance for you, let me turn you on, let me be pleasing to you.”

His eyes narrowed, and his hand reached around my neck. I wasn’t sure if he was going kiss me or choke me.

“I’ve already seen you dance.” He pulled me to him, and fisted my hair. “Now get on your knees and suck my cock.”

Fuck. I had to think fast. I’d rather take a bullet in my brain than give Mitch head. “I—I have to go to bathroom.”

He released my hair. “Fine. Hurry up.”

I stumbled to the bathroom, and rummaged through my purse. Cell phone, wallet, tissues, gum, switchblade. Switchblade? Stabbing Mitch was out of the question—every SEAL knew three hundred ways to kill an enemy. He’d disarm me in a second. I released the blade from the case, the shiny metal beckoning me. I could end my pain tonight—the sorrow from losing everyone who’d ever mattered to me: my parents, my baby, my brother, Grant. But I would see this through—or die trying.

But I couldn’t resist the call of the knife. I needed to feel, I needed to punish myself for my mistakes, for hurting Grant. I plunged the tip of the blade into my index finger, the blood oozing out. I took my finger and tasted a droplet. Coppery, warm, slightly sweet.

Blood. Bingo.

I squeezed some more droplets out of my finger like I was Seymour in
Little Shop of Horrors
. After smearing the blood on the inside of my panties, I sucked on my finger until the bleeding stopped, and then rinsed it in cold water. I walked back out to break the bad news to Mitch.

Mitch was sitting up on the bed. I took a moment to stare at him—he looked absolutely beautiful. So masculine, so ripped. But to me, he was the most revolting man in the world.

I knelt before him, glanced up and batted my eyelashes. “I cannot wait to be together with you. But tonight is no good. It is time of month and I want to be sexy for you.”

He shook his head. “Don’t care, baby doll. Your mouth still works. Besides, you’ve probably figured out that I’m a goddamn Navy SEAL, just like your fuck buddy, Grant. I’d love to get your war paint all over my face.”

Oh my god! Did he just say that?
No guy is actually into that, right? What a freak!

I gently caressed his face, and kissed his lips. A slow, sweet kiss, pretending he was Grant. “Mitch. I want it to be special. I only want to be together with you.” Okay, here goes the Hail Mary pass. “Grant and me, we never have been together, with the sex. I have only been together with one man.” I laid it on thick. Men loved being told they were the chosen ones. Suckers.

His eyes lit up. “Really, baby doll? Don’t play me. You’re a stripper.”

I swallowed, even dug up some tears. Method acting. My drama teacher had told me to think about personal sadness; there was no lack of material in that department. “Yes, I am stripper. I have no skill, no money. My baba, she die, and I have no family. But I swear it to you, I have been with no man for years. You can ask it to Grant if you do not believe me.”

Mitch’s face softened and his demeanor warmed. “I believe you.” Short, simple. He placed his cock back into his pants. Wrapping his huge arm around my shoulders, he pulled me in and kissed me on the head. We relaxed on the plush, velvety bed. “I like you, Ksenya, I do. I have no one close either. My wife, she left me.” He sighed deep and shook his head “She was the only one I could ever really talk to.”

I gulped. Was this bad boy SEAL opening up? Did he actually have feelings toward me? This was insane. He confessed to me about his divorce. I’d always had a theory that SEALs yearned to have that one person in their lives who they could fully open up to, let down their guard around. More so than other men. These warriors had to be so tough, so invincible; any sign of weakness was inexcusable in their world. Yet, those same skills that they needed to have to be successful in the Teams were the same qualities that made these men struggle in their personal lives. SEALs yearned to find balance. And the only way these men could do it was through the women they loved. Too bad so many Team guys fucked up their relationships by cheating.

“I am sorry, Mitch. Do you miss her?”

“No.” He glanced up at me, and his eyes were red. I wondered if it was because he was drunk or sad. Most likely both. “I fucked up with her, and I own it. But we were so young when we met, we became toxic together. She loved making me jealous and I couldn’t handle it. It doesn’t matter anymore. But there’s something about you . . . I think I can trust you.”

“You can.” My fingernails traced his beard, and I kissed him on the lips, knowing I needed to do whatever it took to get him to truly trust me so I could pump him for information. I still had a tracking device on his phone, and I wanted to figure out who Rafael was, the recipient of Mitch’s weird textless text. Why would a SEAL send another man a smiley face? Grant had cut me out; Mitch was all I had left, the only connection I had left to my brother. Mitch was the only one who could help me now.

His lips took me hard and rough and his hands traveled down my body. Dominant, rugged, intoxicating. I hated myself for liking this kiss, my traitorous pussy responding to his masterful touch. This guy raped me for God’s sake! What the fuck was wrong with me?

“I’m gonna make our first night together real special, you just wait. I can’t wait to fuck your tight pussy. But before we move forward, I need to know that you are done with Grant.”

I choked back tears, genuine ones this time. Done with Grant. More like Grant was done with me. Forever. Mia and Grant would never be together again, in any incarnation. “Yes, we are done.”

Mitch pushed back a lock of my hair, his piercing brown eyes looked at me like I was a juicy steak. “Good, you’re mine. It’s better for you this way. Look, Grant is still hung up on his ex. He’ll never love anyone else.”

My heart leapt inside my chest. Hearing these words from Grant’s brother-in-arms was bittersweet. Grant might be hung up on Mia, but Mia no longer existed. I doubted that Grant would ever be able to find love with Ksenya, and when he finally learned what I had done, I was pretty positive that he would never speak to me again.

“He’s a good guy and I love the dude but he’s not like you and me. We’re different, we’re scarred.”

I pursed my lips and gave him an understanding nod, relaxing into his embrace. Inwardly, I seethed, thinking about his goddam literal scar. That night had ruined my life. It was more than being drugged and assaulted. It was a loss of control. Guilt, shame. It enveloped me. I had been too afraid to tell Grant what had happened to me. Would he have blamed me for drinking that night, putting myself in that situation? For a week I tiptoed around him, keeping my secret to myself. Even though he was injured, we made love one last time. Once I found out I was pregnant, I tortured myself, not knowing if my baby’s father was Grant or my attacker. My baby’s daddy could’ve been Mitch—that thought alone made my skin crawl, reproducing with this Neanderthal. But ultimately it didn’t matter, I never found out who my baby’s daddy was. I loved my baby more than anything in the world, regardless of his paternity.

It had to have been Mitch who had ruined my life. There was no other explanation. I would hate him until the day I died. And I would seek revenge. I would make him pay, make him beg for mercy, make him suffer at my hands.

Even so, I refused to allow my desire for revenge to get in the way of my one goal—freeing my brother.

I had successfully portrayed the wounded-bird stripper. Men loved to save women, especially men like Mitch. Little did he know he was caught in my web. He might have fallen for Ksenya, but my soul was still Mia’s.