Authors: Samantha Cole
TRIDENT SECURITY BOOK 2
BY SAMANTHA COLE
Copyright (c) 2015 Samantha Cole
All Rights Reserved.
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Front Cover Designed by Samantha Cole
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
The story within these pages is completely fictional but the concepts of BDSM are real. If you do choose to participate in the BDSM lifestyle, please research it carefully and take all precautions to protect yourself. Fiction is based on real life but real life is not based on fiction. Remember–Safe, Sane and Consensual!
Any information regarding persons or places has been used with creative literary license so there may be discrepancies between fiction and reality. The Navy SEALs missions and personal qualities within have been created to enhance the story and, again, may be exaggerated and not coincide with reality.
The author has full respect for the members of the United States Military and the varied members of law enforcement and thanks them for their continuing service to making this country as safe and free as possible.
Table of Contents
Just want to take a brief moment to thank all the people who had a hand in helping with this book as well as the Trident Security Series.
Charla and Abby for being my beta-readers, and Abby’s husband for taking a look a technical look at a few scenes!
Randy, Nicole, and the many members of the Facebook group,
Writer’s Unite-Author Club,
for their input when I got stuck on a sentence or passage which didn’t sound quite right. You all are the best! (I apologize if I missed anyone!)
To my new PA, Willy, for helping with my social media so I can devote more time to my writing – I can’t thank you enough for taking on the daunting task!
To my family and friends who don’t get offended when I whip out a pen and piece of paper, or napkin, and start jotting down notes when an idea comes to me in the middle of a meal or other event. Thanks for putting up with me!
And lastly, to the fans of Book 1, who loved it and let me know they were anxiously awaiting Book 2. Here it is and I hope you enjoy it!
"Come on, Beau," Ian Sawyer called to his lab-pit bull mix as he walked up the driveway to Brody Evans' new house. The large, black dog finished a quick call to nature on Brody's curbside mailbox before running to his owner's side. Ian often wondered if the mutt had some Great Dane in its pedigree because he was tall enough that Ian, at six-foot-three, could almost pat the dog's head without bending over. It hadn't always been the case. When Ian had first found the six-week-old pup shivering and crying next to its dying mother outside his front door, Beau couldn't have weighed more than seven or eight pounds at the time.
Ian thought back to the night he’d heard the intruder alert go off on his phone, a little over a year and a half ago. He'd been in his apartment watching the eleven o'clock news. The residence was located within his business compound which was surrounded by a security fence to keep out unexpected visitors. At least it did until the furry duo broke in.
When the alert had gone off, he'd switched the TV channel to bring up the compound's multiple CCTV camera angles. Expecting to see a guard, his brother, or one of his team members walking around, he'd been surprised to see an animal limp its way toward his front door. Zooming in, he saw it was a badly injured dog carrying a small puppy in her mouth. By the time he'd gotten outside the mother had expended the last of her energy and collapsed a few feet away. The pup was dirty, a little malnourished and covered in fleas, but overall in good health. The mother though, had been torn to shreds by another dog or some other animal. When Ian approached the pair with caution, she’d nudged her baby closer to the human she was entrusting him to and then passed away without a sound.
After rushing the puppy to a nearby veterinarian clinic which was open at all hours, Ian returned, followed the path the mother dog had taken and found she'd dug under the fence line to get to his door. On the other side of the fence, he'd followed drag marks leading into the woods. A little ways into the brush was where he’d discovered two additional puppies which had both died several hours earlier. Ian retrieved a shovel and the mother dog's body, then buried the three of them under a tree at one o'clock in the morning before heading back to the compound to fill in the hole under the fence.
After the pup had been bathed, received his shots, and been neutered and chipped, Ian took him home. The six men who made up the primary core team of Trident Security were all retired Navy SEALs and for the first few weeks the poor dog had gone by the name 'FNG' for 'fucking new guy'. But that changed as soon as Ian's goddaughter met the little guy for the first time and had given him a new name. Jenn had been reading Beau Geste in school and dubbed the pit bull mix with the same moniker.
When Beau was three-months old, Ian had an old Navy friend begin training the dog in the same fashion as military working dogs at a nearby facility. The dog had taken to the training as if he'd been bred for it. And although he now was a full-fledged protection and tracking dog, when he wasn't 'on-duty' the big guy was an even bigger goof-ball who just wanted to get belly rubs or play fetch until he dropped. The dog was a well-loved addition to Trident Security and had full access to the business facilities as well as the residential apartments within the compound.
Ian and his brother, Devon, lived at the company compound which they owned. As for the other four men of the Trident Security team, they all resided within ten minutes of the facilities. Brody was one of their teammates and had purchased his place about two months earlier. Tonight, Ian had brought the dog along to a last minute barbecue since the house had a fenced-in backyard. Beau would have plenty of green grass to roll around in, something he didn't have at the paved compound.
The door was unlocked, so Ian let himself in with Beau making a beeline to the kitchen to greet the rest of his favorite humans. Brody was the first person to reach down and pet him. The tall broad man, also known as 'Egghead', was the team's computer geek and master hacker. He'd designed and/or programmed all the security and tracking systems, computers and gadgets the team used. He was also the team flirt and joker, and was rarely without his signature smile and quick wit.
The rest of the crew in attendance was Jake 'Reverend' Donovan, team sniper, Marco 'Polo' DeAngelis, communication specialist, and Ben 'Boomer' Michaelson, demolition and explosives expert. Last, but not least, was Ian's younger brother, Devon 'Devil Dog' Sawyer, who was their breacher and lead climber. Ian was their team leader and interrogator, the same position he'd held in SEAL Team Four. While each man had their individual specialties, they could take over each other's positions if the need arose. They worked so well together there were times they could almost read each other's minds.
When Ian entered the kitchen, everyone paused long enough to greet him before resuming their conversations again. He leaned down and gave Kristen a quick peck on the cheek as she smiled at him.
Kristen Anders was the only non-team member in Brody's house at the moment. She was Ian's future sister-in-law, an author of erotic romance novels, and the love of Devon's life. The guy had popped the question three months ago between Thanksgiving and Christmas and, after crying for several minutes, she'd said yes. They'd been in Nepal at the time, visiting Ian and Devon's parents while their mother was performing surgery at a clinic there for Operation Smile. The two had spent about ten days helping Chuck Sawyer, the brothers' father, and many other volunteers build a school in a nearby village.
The proposal hadn't been a surprise to anyone but their parents since Devon had collared his submissive eight weeks earlier in a ceremony at The Covenant. It was the BDSM club which the brothers' also owned along with their cousin and club manager, Mitch Sawyer.
While Brody was preparing boneless chicken breasts for the grill, Kristen was pounding ground beef into hamburger patties. When Beau plopped down on the floor next to her, she slid off a flip-flop and raised her foot to scratch his underbelly, much to the dog's delight. She glanced back at Ian. "Where's Jenn? Didn't she come with you?"
Ian leaned against the counter next to her, crossing his arms over his sculpted chest and grumbling, "Nope. She went shopping with some friends from college this afternoon. Apparently she has a date tonight."
Her eyes lit up with the opposite reaction he'd had after learning his goddaughter was going on a date. With a guy. Who probably wasn't any good for her. Who probably only wanted to get into the pretty girl's pants. He'd kill the bastard if he knew who he was.
Before Kristen could respond, Brody's eyes narrowed from where he stood a few feet away in front of the opened refrigerator door. "Jenn's going on a date?" His loud voice was filled with shocked annoyance. "With who?"
The hush which fell over the room was interrupted by a short squeal of delight, as five pairs of curious, angry eyes and one pair of elated ones stared at Ian. He let out a loud sigh. "I have no idea. She refused to tell me because she knew I'd have you investigate him."
The big, protective men all scowled but it was Brody who responded. "If she won't give you his name, tell Baby-girl she can't go. It's as simple as that."
A loud groan sounded and everyone turned toward Kristen who was rolling her eyes as if she was in the presence of six idiots. "Guys, come on. Your niece is nineteen years old and will be twenty in three months. She's an adult whether you like it or not. She's smart and can hold her own if she needs to. You can't ground her for refusing to let you harass some poor kid who wants to take her out."
The men were all Jennifer Mullins' surrogate uncles. Her father had been their lieutenant in the SEALs and the team spent many off hours at the man's family home near their base. The once little girl had grown up with over forty 'uncles,' who she still kept in touch with through emails and phone calls. But she'd always been closest to these six men. When she was born, her parents had asked Jeff's best friend, Ian, to be her godfather and legal guardian if anything ever happened to them. Ian had been happy to do it, but never thought he would need to take their place so early in her life. Later this month would be the one-year anniversary of her parents' murders.
The team had found out this past September their deaths weren't the result of a burglary gone wrong but instead, was part of a larger plot to kill several former members of SEAL Team Four. A Texas senator with bigger aspirations had hired a hit-man to take out Jeff Mullins, Ian, Devon, Jake, Brody and two others. He’d realized they had been on a fact-finding mission years early and may have recognized him as a man who'd met with their target. The senator's distant cousin was a Colombian drug lord who he'd developed a clandestine relationship with in exchange for the financial backing to climb out of poverty into college, and then law school. In return, the senator became Ernesto Diaz's asset in Dallas. Besides being the head of a lucrative drug cartel, Diaz had been involved in sex-trade and arms-dealing. The FBI and Navy investigators had made the connection between the deaths of Jeff and Lisa Mullins, Eric Prichard and Quincy Dale. The men of Trident security had been tapped to sort through boxes and boxes of classified missions they'd been on, to try to figure out why Team Four had been targeted. It was only after two attempts on the lives of the remaining four members of the hit list, did they found out who wanted them dead and why. Since then, both the senator and hit-man had met with their own untimely demises. During all the chaos, Devon and Kristen had met and fallen in love.
Devon pinched his fiancée’s ass hard, and she jumped and squealed, almost dropping the raw hamburger in her hands. "Who says we can't? And don't roll your eyes at a roomful of Doms, Pet."
The others all chuckled knowing the sweet submissive wanted to glare at them and say something snarky before she thought better of it. Her ass would be spanked red if she did. "Fine, but come on guys. This is the first date I've heard her go on since she moved down here. You should be happy she's doing something fun, especially with the anniversary of her parents' death coming up. I'm sure if there's a second or third date, she'll introduce you to the guy."
Ian had stayed with Jenn for three months in Virginia following the murders so she could finish up her high school education. She'd moved to Tampa and into Ian's apartment before moving again into a dorm room at the University of Tampa where she was now enrolled. It'd taken her a while to deal with the loss of her parents, which everyone understood. But between counseling, her new school and friends, and her beloved uncles, Jenn was coming out of her shell and returning to the bubbly, out-going woman they all knew and loved. The men mumbled their reluctant assents and changed the subject.
"Hey Boss-man." Ian turned toward Brody who handed him a bottle of Bud Light. "It seems you're shit-out-of-luck with my new neighbor."
Ian's eyes narrowed and grew cold. "What're you talking about?"
Brody shrugged his wide shoulders. "Some guy's been hanging out with Angie all day and they seem kinda chummy. His car was in her driveway all through last night. A little scruffy-looking, which I wouldn't think was her type, but it's obvious they know each other pretty well.
well to be a relative."
Ian had met Brody's next-door-neighbor, Angelina Beckett, once while helping his buddy move into his new house. She was a pretty woman, about thirty-three years old, with a killer body which made Ian's cock react like a snappy salute to an Admiral–fast and stiff. With long blond hair down to her shoulder blades, soft green eyes, lush breasts, and an ass he would love to get his hands on, she'd starred in several of his dreams over the last two months. More than once he'd gotten off in the shower imagining her on her knees in front of him, giving him the blow job of a lifetime. Since their introduction, he'd only had a few glimpses of her, but his teammate must have noticed his interest in her.
Without saying another word, he uncapped his beer and took a swig before making his way out to the patio with Beau on his heels. While the dog ran straight to the grass and began to sniff everything in sight, Ian sat at the outdoor table facing Ms. Beckett's backyard. She was also sitting at her patio table with her back toward him, although her chair was turned at a slight angle so she was facing her guest. The strands of her long hair were twined together into a braid which lay down the center of her back, atop her teal blue shirt. He preferred her hair down, and wished he had the right to walk over there and undo the confined tresses. Shifting his gaze to the strange man who sat at a ninety degree angle next to her, Ian studied him.
Brody was right. The man was a little on the disheveled side with a scraggly beard and mustache, and shoulder length hair. But otherwise, he appeared clean, wearing a black T-shirt, blue jeans and white sneakers. He seemed to be around the same age as her. What pissed Ian off the most was how the guy had Angie's bare feet in his lap, massaging them, as the two spoke. He watched as Angie's boyfriend's eyes flashed to hi, then back again to hers. Ian wasn't fooled. In that split second the stranger had noticed, evaluated and determined Ian wasn't an immediate threat. It was obvious the man had training. To Ian, his body and its language screamed former military, yet he was almost able to disguise it. In fact, if Ian hadn't been just like him, he may have underestimated the man.
As the rest of Ian's team filtered out to the patio and took seats around the table, the man's gaze flashed over to them before settling again on Angie. Ian watched as she stood with the grace of a prima ballerina, her long legs and heart-shaped ass encased in faded capri jeans making his mouth water. When she turned toward her back door, he heard her say to her boyfriend, "Give me a few minutes to freshen up and we'll go grab something to eat. I hope you're in the mood for Mexican."