Protected by a SEAL (Alpha SEALs, Book 6) (2 page)

“Since when am I particular? With a smoking
body like that, she could have pink hair for all I care.”

“Ain’t that the goddamn truth,” Matthew
drawled as he grabbed the barstool on the other side of Mike. “The
world keeps turning, and Brent keeps looking for an easy lay.”

“She doesn’t really look like your type,”
Mike said. “Too much clothing.”

Brent chuffed out a laugh. “She’s got tits
and an ass. Good enough for me.”

A feeling of déjà vu suddenly washed over
him as he watched the brunette get change from the bartender. The
glint of her gold bracelet caught his eye, and something about her
seemed strikingly familiar. If she’d turn just back his way so he
could get a better look at her face….

“You got a thing for Ella?” Matthew asked,
eyeing the woman Brent had been watching. “Better keep your dick in
your pants. Bri would kill you for sleeping with her. As a matter
of fact, I would, too. Ella’s way too good for your sorry ass.”

Shit.

What the hell was she doing here?

“I thought she was supposed to be in college
down in Florida,” he said coolly.

Hell, no wonder he was fixated on her. He’d
met the gorgeous brunette weeks ago when he was down in Pensacola
with his buddies but hadn’t recognized her tonight from all the way
across the bar. Ella had been moonlighting as a cocktail waitress
as she worked her way through school. She was friends with
Matthew’s girl and absolutely nothing like the type of women he
usually spent the night with. Nothing like the type who’d blatantly
come on to him, practically begging for a night in the arms of a
Navy SEAL. The kind of women he’d normally welcome into his
bed.

But Ella was also the prettiest damn thing
he’d ever set eyes on. Clear blue eyes, dark glossy hair, and skin
that looked so soft he’d fucking love to run his hands all over it.
She’d barely even glanced Brent’s way that night—and that was only
because he’d jumped in front of her, yelling at her asshole of a
manager. The women he was used to being around would be throwing
themselves at him after a move like that.

Funny thing was, he hadn’t even been trying
to get her attention. His first instinct had been to shield and
protect her. And possibly beat the shit out of the man who’d come
charging at a defenseless woman.

“She’s on spring break,” Matthew said. “Came
up to help Brianna get settled in.”

“Is she staying with you guys?” Brent asked
in disbelief.

Matthew chuffed out a laugh. “Bri just moved
in with me a few days ago. No one is invited over for the next six
months. At least.”

Mike grinned, and the two men bumped
fists.

“You two are whipped,” Brent muttered.

“I’m not going to complain about waking up
with a gorgeous woman in my arms every morning,” Matthew said.
“Hell, having Brianna in my bed is fucking spectacular.”

“Best wake-up call ever,” Mike agreed,
waggling his eyebrows. “Although I’m usually the one waking Kenley
up if you know what I mean.”

Brent muttered a curse under his breath.
“The whole damn bar knows what you mean.”

“And to answer your question,” Matthew
continued, “Ella is staying with Kenley.”

“At Kenley’s place,” Mike clarified. “Her
parents still have that condo close to the beach. Kenley and I have
unofficially moved in together.”

“I can’t keep up with this shit anymore,”
Brent complained. “I should go buy every last one of you a goddamn
white picket fence.”

“That’d look great outside our apartment
door,” Matthew quipped.

Brent nailed him with a glare. It was hard
to believe that one year ago every man on his SEAL team had been
single. The whole team used to spend their weekends at Anchors,
flirting with the pretty women and more often than not taking one
home for the night. Trading stories in the locker room on Monday
mornings. But the other guys had dropped like flies, each becoming
involved with their current girlfriends or fiancées, until he was
the last man standing. Their SEAL team leader Patrick “Ice” Foster
was with Rebecca; their IT guru Christopher “Blade” Walters was
engaged to Lexi; and the guys here tonight, Matthew, Mike, and
Evan, also each had women of their own.

Brent wasn’t into that happily-ever-after
shit, but if his buddies wanted to pretend that some things lasted
forever, then good luck to them.

“You guys are fucking pussy-whipped.”

“We get it—the idea of you with one woman is
about as likely as hell freezing over,” Matthew said.

“I’m not about to let a woman lead me
around, dick in my hand.”

The men on their team were protective and
possessive as hell. Dedicated to their country and their careers.
Apparently that trait carried over into their relationships as
well. Once they found their woman, that was it. Not that he planned
to ever test those waters himself.

His alcoholic father had left when he was a
kid. His single mother raised him and his siblings the best that
she could. But when his sister was murdered by her ex-boyfriend,
when Brent had received her frantic calls and messages the week
before and hadn’t been able to get home to her in time, it had
almost destroyed him. Even today the guilt practically ate him
alive.

The idea of not being able to protect those
that he loved burned through him. Rage clawed at his chest. Pushing
himself harder and harder in training and losing himself in a woman
night after night were about the only ways he could deal with the
reality. He just couldn’t handle losing someone like that again.
Ever. If he didn’t get close to anyone, he couldn’t get burned.

No fault in that logic.

“You can’t keep up with us?” Mike laughed,
drawing Brent’s gaze back toward him. “At least we’re with the same
woman every night. There’s gotta be like ten women you’ve slept
with here in Anchors tonight.”

“Don’t remind me,” Brent muttered. Normally
he’d be the first to brag about the women he’d been with, offering
up all the sordid details to his buddies. The amount of pussy he’d
scored. At the moment, however, it was just a grim reminder of the
fact that he couldn’t fucking live with the guilt without
distracting himself with a woman. Or twenty.

Mike raised his eyebrows. “What bit you in
the ass?”

“Just having an off night.”

“You’re losing your touch, Cobra,” Matthew
said, calling him by his nickname. “Three drinks in, and there’s
still not a woman at your side being seduced by your charm?”

“A woman?” Mike laughed. “Usually he’s got
an entire posse of them.”

“Just needed to clear my head,” Brent
muttered.

Matthew raised his eyebrows, and Brent
drained the last of his beer, catching a reflection of the women in
the mirror that stretched across the back of the bar. Matthew’s
fiancée Brianna was laughing, her blonde hair shimmering under the
lights. Evan was animatedly telling a story, his strawberry-blonde
girlfriend Alison smiling beside him. They all laughed again, and
Brent’s eyes roved over the group. Why they’d all come here before
heading off to the pool hall was beyond him.

But that wasn’t what had him clenching his
fists in frustration.

Ella.

She stood up, her glossy, dark hair swinging
through the air. Bright blue eyes lit up as she smiled at the
others, her face slightly flushed. The tank top she had on
highlighted her small but supple breasts, and her jeans clung to
hips a man would love to wrap his hands around as he tugged her
closer. Palmed her ass. And buried himself deep within her tight
heat. Hell. She was wearing more clothing than half of the women
here, but the curve-hugging jeans and form-fitting top she had on
were sexy-as-fuck.

And making him harder than steel.

A couple of dudes at the table next to them
all looked her way, and Brent ground his teeth together. One of the
men walked over, apparently interested in her, and she shook her
head ‘no.’

Well thank fuck for that.

He didn’t want to have to bust some frat
boy’s balls for touching Ella.

She shouldn’t even be here since she lived
down in Florida. Their paths never even should’ve crossed. But the
gorgeous brunette fascinated him. Aroused him. Made him want to
beat to a pulp any man that came near her. Especially that shitty
manager of hers. Her face had been etched in his brain ever since
the night they first met. Which was kind of crazy considering he’d
been with countless other women. He could barely keep their faces
straight despite knowing their bodies intimately, and he hadn’t so
much as touched Ella.

But her long, dark hair, those big blue
eyes, and that lithe little body with curves in just the right
places had made his pulse pound. Not to mention that just the sight
of her had sent his protective, possessive instincts surging to the
surface. He’d stood up to her asshole manager down in Florida the
first time they’d met. And seeing her again tonight? He had all
sorts of images running through his head of kissing her pink lips,
moving his mouth down the slender column of her neck. Maybe bending
her over a table, taking her from behind while he cupped her small
breasts. Showing her just how crazy she made him. Making her moan
his name.

God. What would it be like to thrust into
her pussy while he massaged her breasts and sank his teeth into the
tender flesh where her neck and shoulder joined? She was so goddamn
young. Unaffected by him. Still in college while he was thirty-two.
And he had no doubt that he could pleasure her beyond her wildest
imagination.

“Shall we go join the ladies?” Mike asked,
jarring him out of his thoughts.

Brent glanced over to see his buddy draining
the last of his beer.

“Hell yeah. They’re much better company than
this sorry ass,” Matthew joked, punching Brent in the shoulder as
he stood up. “Better looking, too.”

Fucking idiot. The most Matthew had to worry
about was moving his gorgeous fiancée in with him and picking out
new bedding and shit. Buying a few baby clothes for the kid they
had on the way. He hadn’t lost someone in his own family. Failed to
protect his own sister.

“I’ll meet you guys there,” Brent
muttered.

Maybe a ride on his Harley down to the pool
hall would clear his head. Watching his friends play
happily-ever-after sure wasn’t going to erase the nightmares in his
head. Maybe he should’ve left earlier with one of those women. The
redhead, the other one—what the hell did it matter? It figured that
the one woman who’d piqued his interest tonight was the one he
shouldn’t fucking touch.

He’d lost track of his conquests over the
years, and the number was almost something to be ashamed of.
Almost. Because he didn’t answer to anyone but himself. And there
was something exhilarating about pleasuring a woman—discovering her
body, learning her secrets, making her whimper and beg and cry out
his name. He was a goddamn master at sending a woman straight to
ecstasy. And if a woman beneath him made him forget for a couple of
hours about all of his failures and gave him sweet release as well,
then that was just the cherry on top.

So why the hell was he still sitting here at
Anchors with his buddies and not rolling around in the sheets?

His fists clenched as Ella’s face once again
flashed through his mind.

Damn it to hell.

Ella made her way back to the table,
glancing around the bar she and the others had gone to for a few
drinks. According to Brianna, Anchors had always been popular with
the guys on the SEAL team. The place was filled with attractive
military men with cropped hair and bulging muscles and pretty women
in high heels and flirty little sundresses. She felt cute and
casual in her pink tank top, snug jeans, and flat sandals. Not that
she was looking to meet anyone.

Absentmindedly, she fingered the long
pendant she wore. It was dainty and delicate, and hung low,
dangling close to her cleavage. Music thumped from the speakers as
she made her way back to her friends, and waitresses wove their way
between tables serving piping hot food and cold drinks.

But they weren’t clad in the revealing
outfits she and Brianna had worn as cocktail waitresses at the
lounge they’d worked in down in Florida. Tiny little dresses that
flaunted their cleavage and barely covered their ass. That wealthy
clientele loved looking at as they served them drinks. That
sometimes made them ask for more.

A job she’d tried to quit a few weeks ago
but was somehow slowly getting sucked back into.

Ugh.

She glanced again at the text she’d just
gotten from her former manager, Frank.

I know you need the money. I’ll put you on
shift for the weekend if you get your sweet ass back down here.

Don’t screw this up, Ella.

Her heartbeat sped up and pulse erratically
pounded as she re-read the words. Before she could even type out a
response, her phone buzzed again.

You know tips alone are worth it. Men love
watching you in that sexy little dress.

So do I.

Her stomach churned as she shoved her phone
back into her purse. Had her former boss even heard of sexual
harassment? Maybe technically he wasn’t her manager now since she’d
quit. But holy crap. Even hundreds of miles away, up here in
Virginia Beach, that jerk was getting to her. Trying to control
her. She didn’t exactly enjoy serving drinks to men while they
ogled her, but the money was better than any other part-time job
she could find as a college student. And she’d never had a problem
with her manager until she and Brianna had quit weeks ago.

Or tried to quit, in her case.

Matthew had come to Brianna’s rescue when a
drunk man attacked her in the back hall of the cocktail lounge.
Some of the other guys on Matthew’s SEAL team had been there, too,
with one of them, Brent, even shielding her when their manager came
rushing toward them in an angry rage. But Ella had made the mistake
of letting it slip a few days later that they were all Brianna’s
friends from out of town. Frank had been spooked for the night with
those big, tough SEALs protecting Brianna and her, but he’d been
texting Ella ever since, pressuring her into returning.