Lucky SEAL (Lucky Devil #2) (9 page)

“I’ve never had sex without a condom, either. I’ve regularly been tested, as well. We get regular physicals,” he explained. She just bet they did with all the sex testosterone and adrenaline filled SEALs must have. Jealously was a living, breathing thing in Jennifer’s belly. She had no right to be jealous, but there it was. She hated the faceless women who’d been with Rourke before her.

“I can get you those results if you’d like. It would just take me a little time to put in a request and receive the papers,” Rourke offered. His every clinical word hardened the knot in Jennifer’s gut.

“That won’t be necessary. It won’t happen again, and it’s a little late for caution at this point. I’m not pregnant, and I’m clean. If that’s all you wanted to know, I’ll just go now.” Jennifer sprinted for the door. She needed to leave before she started crying like the fool she was in front of Rourke. She was struggling to unlock the door when Rourke moved up behind her.

He placed both hands on the door on either side of her and whispered in her ear, “Where do you think you’re going? I’m not done with you.”

“I’m leaving. I gave you your answers. I’d like to leave now.” Jennifer’s voice quavered.

Rourke spun her around to face him. “I have a lot more questions for you, Jennifer. Like why you’re dressed like a man? Why the pastor is protecting you? Who is he protecting you from? Where have you been? And most importantly, why you disappeared before I had a chance to tell you how much I want to get to know you better. The unprotected sex thing was just a jumping off point. I felt like a total shit for not protecting you. That’s not the kind of man I am.”

“No worries. You can go back to your regularly scheduled life,” she suggested and grasped at the door handle behind her. She had to go. Just being this close to Rourke after what they shared was painful. She wanted to get to know him, too. She wanted to spend forever getting to know every little thing about him.

“That’s just the problem, baby. I haven’t been able to do anything but think of you and wonder where you are and want you’re doing since you disappeared into the night. I want the chance to get to know you a lot better. The real Jennifer.” Rourke tugged at the lapel of her plaid shirt for emphasis. “Whoever that may be.”

“What?” she asked like an idiot. She thought he’d let her make a quick escape once she satisfied his worry of an unwanted pregnancy. Was he saying he’d been searching for her? He had to have been asking questions if he knew the pastor was protecting her. Jennifer knew the pastor would never divulge her hiding place or anything he might know about her. She dared to hope for just a second that Rourke might want to know more than just her medical status.

“I said, I want you to stay,” Rourke smiled for the first time since Jennifer literally ran into him, “but I can’t make you.” Again, Rourke didn’t know giving her the choice to stay or go all but guaranteed she would stay.

“I have so many questions, but mostly I just want to be with you. I want you to want to be here, though.” Rourke backed up a step, but he was still crowding Jennifer. As if Rourke wasn’t sure he meant what he’d said about not forcing her to stay, though he had good intentions.

Jennifer knew if she really wanted to go, he wouldn’t stop her. Rourke was nothing like Evan. Rourke was a good man, not an evil bastard. How she could be so sure of that, Jennifer didn’t know, but she felt the truth of it right down to her toes. He might want to make her stay, but he wouldn’t.

Jennifer moved without thinking. She launched herself at Rourke. Jennifer wanted to hold Rourke and kiss him. She wanted to apologize for bailing on him the way she did on Thanksgiving. Rourke was close enough to touch, and she’d missed him terribly, in spite of their short acquaintance. Rourke made Jennifer feel safe. He made her feel wanted and cared for in a way she hadn’t since she left home.

Jennifer kissed Rourke with a fervor that stunned them both. It didn’t take Rourke long to return her kiss with equal intensity. She couldn’t stop, didn’t want to. She only wanted to be with Rourke in any small way he would allow for as long as it was safe for him to be around her. She wanted to feel his strong arms around her again. Just one more time.

Rourke groaned against Jennifer’s mouth and opened to allow her invasion. She wasn’t thinking at all, only feeling and wanting Rourke. The solid muscle of his shoulders under her hands flexed as Rourke lifted Jennifer and pressed her to the wall, bracing her there with his body. He tugged the hat from her head and tossed it away. His hands tangled in her hair to remove the ponytail while their tongues twisted and searched out the flavor of their passion.

Jennifer’s golden hair cascaded down around her shoulders, and Rourke hummed. He liked her hair down. Judging by the rigid shaft pressing into her belly, he liked more than just Jennifer’s hair. Her hands slid to Rourke’s chest to begin tugging at his buttons. Jennifer wanted to feel his bare skin. Rourke grasped Jennifer’s ass and lifted her higher against his chest. Jennifer wrapped her legs around his waist.

“I’m not taking you against a wall this time. I want to see your pretty little body spread out in my bed, baby.” Rourke nibbled Jennifer’s lips as he carried her to his bedroom. He juggled her in his arms while unsuccessfully attempting to open the door without breaking the kiss. Jennifer reached behind her and opened the door.

It was broad daylight, but the room darkening curtains made his bedroom a cool, welcoming oasis. Rourke placed Jennifer on the bed and followed her down. They crawled backward on the bed, and Rourke stayed with her, their mouths never separating. They tore at each other’s clothing, tossing each piece over the side of the bed as they went.

Jennifer was skin to skin with Rourke for the first time in an actual bed without the worry of being discovered, and it was incredible. Rourke was so much man to handle. He made Jennifer feel delicate and dainty in comparison. Rourke’s hands roamed over her body, touching and caressing every bit of Jennifer he could reach. He buried his face in the valley between her breasts and inhaled deeply while she clutched his head. 

“Jennifer, baby, I’ve been going crazy,” he said before taking one of her pearled nipples into his scorching hot mouth.

“Please, Rourke, please,” she begged. It seemed once she was in Rourke’s arms, Jennifer was only capable of limited speech. Just as before, she could only plead for him to give her what she needed. Rourke’s words echoed around her head, fighting for attention with the rising passion. He’s been going crazy looking for her? The kernel of hope in her heart that Rourke might feel something for her grew.

Rourke’s big palm crept down her belly to cup her pussy, and he hissed, “Fuck, baby, you’re so wet for me.” Rourke toyed with her pussy, stroking and touching everywhere but the spot Jennifer needed him most while paying expert attention to both of her aching breasts.

Jennifer squirmed under his touch, needing so much more. Rourke continued his trek down her body, licking and nibbling his way until he was nuzzling her mound. Jennifer moaned and writhed. Rourke pushed her thighs further apart to make room for himself between her legs. He spread her open to his view and purred, “So pretty.”

The first swipe of his tongue was a slow tasting that had Jennifer shuddering. She sighed his name. He licked her more deeply and with deliberation for long, maddening moments. Jennifer’s head thrashed on the bed. She gripped Rourke’s scalp and tried to lift her hips against him, but Rourke held her steady with those strong hands of his. He chuckled against her flesh, and the vibration stole her breath away. Rourke gave in to her plea for more and began to flick her clit rapidly, back and forth, stroking the little button into a frenzy. Heightening her pleasure until she whimpered. Jennifer was so close to climax, but Rourke pulled away before she reached the peak. Jennifer clutched at Rourke, trying to bring him back to where she needed him, but he had other plans.

“I have to be inside, Jennifer. I want to feel you come on my cock. I want to ride you through it, baby.” Rourke’s breathing was fast, his words ragged with desire. Jennifer didn’t argue.

Rourke lightly stroked her clit, keeping her on the edge while he pressed his thick shaft into her needy body. Rourke’s shaft was like hot steel entering her clinging channel. Rourke was so excited, he felt somehow larger than he had the last time they came together. Thankfully, she was so wet and ready. Rourke didn’t struggle for long to penetrate her aching pussy. Inch by inch, he made his way into her tense, excited flesh. She was so ready to come. She quivered around his length, and Rourke groaned.

He rotated his hips and drove deeper. She clawed at his shoulders. Rourke kissed her, and she tasted her own arousal on his lips and tried to imagine what Rourke would taste like on her tongue. She would find out if he gave her a chance.

Rourke shifted and thrust, slowly moving this way and that until Jennifer mewled when he hit her sweet spot. “That’s it, baby, I got you now.” Jennifer wasn’t sure if that was a threat or a promise. It turned out to be both.

With precision, Rourke swirled and pressed. He never really retreated but ground into her. She grew tighter and tighter as he manipulated that sweet spot with single-mindedness until she screamed his name and climaxed in waves of heat and moisture and mindless pleasure.

Rourke let go of his restraint when Jennifer came. He lost control and began to thrust into her with abandon. Jennifer held on tight, riding the waves of their shared pleasure until a second orgasm overtook her body so fully she couldn’t even scream. Jennifer’s spasming core ripped a shout of ecstasy from Rourke’s throat as he pumped his hips and jetted his seed deep into her core. The pleasure kept coming and coming. Rourke caught her lips and continued to thrust on and on until she collapsed after a third shattering climax.

It was intense, earth shaking, life changing sex that Jennifer would never forget as long as she lived. Rourke collapsed next to her and pulled Jennifer into his side. She rested her head on his shoulder, breathing erratically over his hot, damp skin.

There weren’t words to express how Jennifer felt. So she kept her mouth shut, fearing she would ruin the moment by blurting out that she loved him. Rourke would think she was crazy. A real stage five clinger. Jennifer couldn’t explain even to herself why she felt so deeply for this amazing man. So she would keep all of those tender emotions to herself. Likely forever.

“What’s your last name?” Jennifer asked after her heart had slowed enough that she could speak after their second round of sex so hot she’d talk about it in her diary if she had a diary. She was sprawled across the washboard chest a man whose last man she did not know. It made her feel dirty. She wasn’t the girl who slept with men whose name she didn’t know.

Rourke tensed beneath her, so she knew he heard the question, but he didn’t answer. Jennifer slid off him and rose up on one elbow to look into his eyes. Rourke was staring at the ceiling, and if she weren’t mistaken in the low light of the bedroom, he was blushing. Did he not want her to know his last name? What the hell?

“What? You can fuck me, but I can’t know your name?” she snapped out the question, feeling embraced and a little hurt.

She tried to remove herself from his ridiculously comfortable bed, but Rourke wouldn’t let her go. Rourke rolled with her until he had her pressed beneath him on the bed again. She was glaring up at him. He was frowning at her. It wasn’t an angry glower. No, it was more like a scowl of resignation. He couldn’t avoid answering. What was the big deal about letting her know his last name? Maybe it was a really sucky name. Maybe women had run screaming at the sound of his name. Could it be Rumpelstiltskin? Seaman? Oh, a sailor named Seaman would really suck. Maybe it was Fuchs. Or Bieber! No! Never say his last name was Bieber!

After what felt like an endless stare down where Jennifer imagined the worst names possible -like Hitler or Butts-, Rourke finally sighed and rolled off Jennifer. He sprawled across the bed and threw his arm over his eyes.

“My last name is Rourke.”

Wait, what? Rourke was his
last
name? Jennifer had never considered that Rourke wasn’t his name. Logically, since he was a military man, his peers would address him by his last name, but she hadn’t met any of his peers. Everyone from the pastor to his two oldest friends called him Rourke as if that were his name. Jennifer blinked owlishly at the side of his blond head until he turned to look at her.

“My last name is Rourke. I’ve been called Rourke since I was born because my father hated my first name. My dad was also a Navy man. He was deployed when my mother gave birth to me,” he began to explain but stopped as if she might forget he hadn’t told her his first name. Christ! She was in bed with a man, and she didn’t know his first fucking name!

“And?” she didn’t mean to yell, but dammit, she felt like a slut!

Rourke sighed. “My name is Stacy Rourke. No middle name. My mother named me after her grandfather whose name, was Eustace. Mom didn’t care for the name Eustace, so she settled on his nickname, Stacy.”

Stacy Rourke. Jennifer let the name roll around her mind a few times. She liked it, but the name was clearly a sore spot for Rourke . . . Stacy? She wondered if he’d let her call him Stacy.

“Stacy Rourke,” Jennifer said the name aloud just to see how it felt on her tongue. Rourke’s expression filled with storm clouds. “Don’t you give me that look. I had sex with a man whose name I didn’t know. That’s fucked up. I’m just trying it on for size.”

“Don’t. I hate it. I always have. Even my dad hated it.” Rourke rolled to his back again and damn if he wasn’t pouting. He really didn’t like his name.

“Why don’t you like it? I like it,” she admitted.

Rourke rolled his eyes at her. “Sure you do. Every woman wants a man with woman’s name.”

“Stacy is man’s name, too,” Jennifer insisted. “Tell me why you don’t like it.”

Rourke held up his hand and raised a finger with every point he made. “It’s a girl’s name.” One finger went up. “I listened to my dad tell my mom how much he hated my name every time he came home.” Another finger. “It’s a girl’s name.” A third finger went up. “I got picked on mercilessly my whole life because of that name.” Another finger. “And finally, it’s a fucking girl’s name!” He finished, and his large calloused hand fell to the bed.

Jennifer giggled. Clearly, he was sensitive about having what he considered a girl’s name. “Can I call you Stacy?”

“Not if you want me to answer.”

“Not even in bed?” she teased and reached out run a finger down his happy trail.

“Not unless you want my dick to shrivel.”

Jennifer laughed a full-bodied, tear producing laugh that had Rourke frowning again. She was upsetting him, so she tried to reign herself in. She just found it so amusing that anything would bother her big warrior of a man so much.

The thought helped her sober quite a bit. He wasn’t her man. He would never be Jennifer’s anything. She couldn’t forget that fact. Rourke would be going back to the Navy soon, and she would be God knew where just trying to survive. Plus, she was in deep shit with a madman on her heels, and she didn’t want Rourke buried in the muck with her. She needed to get going soon, but she couldn’t imagine Rourke letting her walk away again easily.

“I’m glad you find my lifelong misery amusing,” Rourke groused and rolled to his side away from her. Jennifer snuggled in and kissed his back. She wrapped an arm around him, and Rourke held her hand. He couldn’t be too upset at her outburst.

“I was amused by your behavior, not your misery. Though you do pout like a champ.” She couldn’t help another little giggle.

“I do not pout, woman. That was a very manly brood you witnessed. Sailors don’t pout,” Rourke insisted.

“Okay, you brood well. When did people start calling you Rourke all the time? I really believed it was your first name because even your friends use the name.” There had to be a story there, and Jennifer was eager to soak up as much of Rourke as she could before the real world separated them again.

“I’ve almost always been called Rourke by everyone except my mom. My early years in school, the teachers called me Stacy until my father marched up there and complained that he was tired of me coming home bloody because I was quick to start a fight when other boys made fun of me. My dad, being a military man, never babied me. He would play rough with me every chance he got.” Jennifer could hear the smile in Rourke’s voice when he talked about his parents. “It drove Mom nuts. She didn’t like ‘horseplay,’ as she called it. She thought Dad was too rough with me. I was a scrawny little kid.”

“Well, that didn’t last long.” Jennifer felt tiny pressed against Rourke’s broad, muscular back.

“I was about thirteen when I had a growth spurt that put me head and shoulders above the other boys. Until then, I was a lanky little shit.”

“So your mom still calls you Stacy?” she asked. “Does your dad still complain about it?”

“Yes, that’s what Mom calls me.” He sounded exasperated. “It’s a family name, and she likes to remind me that it could have been Eustice. I’m really not sure that would have been worse. At least it’s a man’s name.

“My dad, well, he died in service when I was eight. Friendly fire.” Rourke didn’t sound like it was a topic he wanted to explore further. Jennifer didn’t want to upset him when their time together would soon be over, so she blew by the subject.

“I’m sorry for your loss. That must have been tough at such a young age.” Jennifer couldn’t imagine losing her father, even if he had disowned her. She still loved her parents very much. “Do your friends know your real name?”

“Luc and Dolce? Yes, they do after spending so much time around my mom, but neither of them has ever used it. They know I hate it.” Rourke sounded relieved that she hadn’t lingered on the subject of his father’s untimely passing.

“So you’ve been friends for a long time?”

Rourke rolled to his back and wrapped around Jennifer, pulling her tight to his side. She tucked herself, and Rourke warmed to his tale.

“I was on the playground, and it was getting dark. The rule was I had to be in the house when the street lights came on. I was playing basketball with some other boys, and the time got away from me. So Mom stomps down the street yelling, ‘Stacy!’, and the other kids laughed, of course, when they realized I was Stacy. They started with the usual taunts about being a girl. Everyone knew me as Rourke by then.

“I guess I was about ten. I had only recently met Luc. He was seven or eight at the time. Luc didn’t like people being picked on for their names.” He peeked down at her. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Yes.” She smiled, feeling warmed that Rourke would trust her with a secret.

“I could have it so much worse. Luc’s mother died in childbirth. She’d been through a trauma, so her mental faculties are seriously in question. She had a fever, and she was bleeding to death. Placenta Previa is what Luc said was her cause of death.”

Oh, the poor woman. Jennifer knew what that meant. The placenta was blocking the birth canal. If you didn’t catch that in time, the mother almost always died; but with today’s medical advances, the tragedy could almost always be avoided with strict prenatal care.

“When they asked Luc’s mom if she had a name for him, she gave them one. Then she died. She’d been living on the streets, so it took a while for them to locate the grandmother that raised Luc. She was able to give then the father’s name, though, but he wasn’t interested in taking the baby. So Luc had a first and last name registered before they found his grandma.” Rourke gazed off into space as if reflecting on the past. Jennifer sensed a long and painful story there, but she didn’t want to pry.

“What is his name?” she encouraged Rourke to go on.

Rourke looked so sad when he replied, “Lucifer. His name is Lucifer.”

Jennifer gasped. That poor man had grown up with that awful moniker hanging over his head. No wonder he was so hard.

“So you see, I could have had it way worse. Imagine the teacher calling out Lucifer during roll call on the first day of every school year.”

“I can imagine he took offense to people picking on your name?”

“He really did. Luc stepped in when I started to swing at the jerk calling me a girl. Little Luc threw a few punches of his own at the older boys. And that’s how the lifelong friendship between two fatherless boys with dreadful names began.” There was sincere affection in Rourke’s voice that made Jennifer a little jealous. She wished someone thought of her so fondly.

“What about Dolce?”

“She’s a year younger than Luc. She moved into the neighborhood not long after our brawl in the park. She was just a little thing. Dolce’s mom and grandma became friends with my mom and Rourke’s grandma. We all went to aftercare at the church together, and of course, Sunday school and regular church services, as we got older.

“At first, Dolce was a pain in the ass.” Rourke scratched his chin. “Now that I think about it, she’s still a pain in the ass.”

“I thought she was wonderful.” Jennifer defended for fellow female. Her brothers thought she was a pain, too. They never let her hang out with them.

“Oh, she’s the best now, but as a kid, when she wanted to do everything Luc, and I was doing, though, not so much. We could not shake her. Eventually, she wore us down. For a girl, she was pretty tough. We taught her to throw a punch and ride a bike and spit like a real dude.” Rourke chuckled.  “She’s been the baby sister neither Luc nor I knew we wanted, but I don’t think either of us would ever trade her in. She’s our glue. The thing that holds us all together.”

There was real love there in his voice when Rourke spoke about his friends. It sounded like Rourke had had a pretty good childhood, complete with siblings, to spite being an only child with a name he hated who had lost his dad at a young age. She caressed his skin and pondered the lack of ink.

“You don’t have any tattoos. Not even a Navy tattoo. Why do I think of military men as being all tattooed warriors with foul mouths?” she asked rhetorically. Rourke chuckled.

“Many of my friends are tattooed. I just haven’t found anything I wanted to look at forever yet. As far as a Navy tattoo, that isn’t something a SEAL would do. Not until they leave teams permanently and retire,” he explained.

“Why? I thought to be a SEAL was a big deal.”

“It’s an honor we work hard to attain and maintain, but operators go into places other military personnel doesn't go. We go behind enemy lines when we’re down range. If we’re seized, the U.S. will not admit knowledge of our presence behind the lines. We can’t have any easily identifiable marks, either. Imagine how pleased the enemy would be to know they had a SEAL with knowledge of special ops missions. It would be terrible for the captured operator.” Rourke shivered. “I don’t even want to think about what would happen to them.”

“Operator?” she asked.

“It’s what Special Forces members are called. We’re operators,” he explained.

“Are you gone a lot?” She shouldn’t ask. It didn’t matter since she wouldn’t be around once he returned to his job, but the lack of personal items in his home disturbed Jennifer. How often could he possibly be home?

“I’m gone three hundred or more days a year. Much of that, I’m completely out of reach,” he admitted.

And that put a complete halt to the conversation. Jennifer was trying to imagine being with a man who was gone more than he was home. You would need to be entirely committed to each other for it to work. And the fear of him never coming back would eat her alive.

“I’m starving,” Rourke interrupted her maudlin thoughts. “I was on my way to dinner when I literally ran into you.” Rourke crawled out of the bed that took up most of the room and pulled on his underwear. “I’m going to get a quick shower. Then, while you shower, I’ll make us some dinner.”