ROMANCE: BIKER ROMANCE: Werewolf Rider (MC Shifter Pregnancy Romance) (New Adult Paranormal Romance Short Stories) (120 page)

“Come with me…?” Storm asks, taking her hand firmly, looking into her eyes for her answer.

She looks up at him and grins, revealing her decision.

They head below deck, to his cabin. Everything is a blur, a rush of energy in anticipation. A long, silent walk to his cabin, and they finally enter.  Storm turns to Frankie after locking the door, steps towards her and starts to take off his shirt, softly kissing her, in between undoing each button. His dark, tanned, muscular upper body is breathtakingly beautiful, Frankie admires. From his broad shoulders, massive pecs, ripped washboard abs, to his slim waist, she places her hands on his pecs, outlining the trace of his muscles with her fingers. 

Now it is Frankie’s turn, as Storm unbuttons her perfectly pressed uniform, slowly, gazing into her eyes, revealing the outline of a slender, firm and toned body, yet extraordinarily feminine. Both of them prefer silence, building the intensity to a magical crescendo, uniting heart and soul. They continue undress each other, patiently, and eagerly.

They make a tangled, disordered heap of clothing, her laced bra and panties still remaining. Storms massive quadriceps revealed, as Frankie removes his pants. She runs her hands simultaneously up and down each thigh, studying their outline as he lay back on the bed. She lays her body on top of his, pressing into him as if to try and merge into one. His skin, so warm against hers, as they are lost in desire.

Storm looks up to Frankie, a final question mark in his eyes before...

Again, she nods and grins.
Yes.

Frankie can feel his blunt fingers tracing up and down her back as she runs her lips along jawline and neck, sucking little kisses across his hot skin. Making sure to keep well away from her injured shoulder, Storm squeezes and kneads her flesh, relaxing and invigorating the muscles he finds there. Her lips find his again and their tongues battle in his mouth as Frankie kisses him deeply. Storm traces the palms of his strong hands down to the small of her back again, continuing his exploration of her body by gripping her buttocks gently. She can feel his breathing getting faster, her whole body lifted by his massive chest as his lungs fill with air. She also feels his fingers delve a little closer to her center and a thrill of burning desire explodes inside her.

They continue to remove the remainder of their garments. He removes her bra, tenderly touching and kissing her breasts, the long slow pulls at her nipples making her moan quietly. Then her panties come off, slowly, with precision of care holding the moment of disciplined desire. And now Frankie sits up, removing Storms boxers. She slowly moves up toward Storm, placing her body gently on to his again. Then they are entwined, his body now shifting to move over hers. The urgency of this is starting to grip them both. She wraps her thighs around his waist, and their bodies move, rubbing, against each other, passionately kissing. They pause for a moment, to go slower. His hand is gentle on her injured shoulder, shielding it even as he pushes her back against the mattress.

She opens her eyes a moment, studies him from under her lids. His body is truly breathtaking, sculpted, massive muscles, from head to toe. Even his feet and hands are heavily muscled, corded with use and workouts. And warm. His skin is so warm against hers. Leaning over Frankie, his body swallows hers up. Storm, unable to control himself in this position playfully and gently tosses Frankie to the side, on her good shoulder and they roll together across the sheets, lost in impossible, imperative desire. The need to feel each others bodies is all-consuming. She grips her thighs around his waist, the aching sensation of his weight on top of her a delight.

He gasps, then, and moves back a moment. He is trembling with urgency, all control gone now. As he enters her, with all the urgency of his need, he looks into her eyes. His are lustful, green and adoringly looking into her baby blues.

Yes
, she moans.
Yes.

Then there is nothing more to know, besides the sweet fulfilling ache deep inside her, and the joyful, impossibly delicious motion of their bodies together as they writhe and move. He thrusts into her, so slowly. There is so much of him she would almost think she could not hold it all, but he is slow, and careful of her shoulder. They thrust together, gasping, and thrust again. The pressure mounts and builds within them, and soon they are both losing all control; thrusting and pushing and writhing, sweat soaked. Finally, after a long, perfect time, they cry out together in a moment of pleasure so intense they forget all else. In the end as he fills her, with his intense pleasure.

He collapses on top of her, breath heaving. Her body wraps around his, the ache of his presence inside her spreading out, filling her whole body with its glow. He remains inside her as they remain entwined.

This is, strangely, impossibly, but evidently, love. It is clear that they both feel it. Their eyes meet and lock; impossible for either to look away.

Then there is nothing more to know, besides the sweet fulfilling ache deep inside her, and the joyful, impossibly delicious motion of their bodies together as they writhe and move and, after a long, perfect time, cry out together in a moment of pleasure so intense they forget all else but this.

As they cool off and drift slowly into sleep, he kisses her shoulder. She strokes his hair. This is, strangely, impossibly, but evidently, love.

“Goodnight, my love.” he declares.

“Goodnight, my Storm.”  

Outside, on the distant, dark blue sea, all is still.

***

It’s morning. Frankie is on deck. She feels elated. Her shoulder still aches, if she thinks about it, but it is such that she hardly notices. Her body feels impossibly wonderful, and she cannot help smiling.

Every thought is of him, now, Storm. And, of course, her brother Gareth, because now, she has a plan, and now she feels so strong she knows she will be able to carry it out.  Confident, fearless Frankie is on a mission, and if she has to do it alone she’s willing to do so.

“...So what do you think, Captain?” she asks.

“You could be right.” He concedes. “But that doesn't mean we can just go against procedure. We have to play it by the book.”

“I understand.” She manages, as she turns to leave. But the captain wasn’t finished speaking. “However, if something should happen without my knowledge…”

She catches the hint, turns back in deep gratitude, a smile revealing as such, and toward the door to leave contemplating her next move. It’s a big decision, not wanting to put anyone’s career as a SEAL at risk.

She knows time is of the essence. If the pirates are gone too long, her brother, and other captives, if there are any, are in grave danger of potential retribution. 

The three of them together in her cabin, Frankie tells Rex and Storm of her plan. She insists neither need go with her, but she’s taking the dingy to shore this evening to scout around the most likely area any captives would be held. Insisting the bullet was
just
‘in and out’, downplaying her ordeal, she warns either of them going against her decision.

“I am not asking you to come, but you two are the only ones I’m revealing my plan to. You’re careers could be in jeopardy for just knowing what I’m going to do. He’s my brother, and I
know
he would do it for me. This is the reason I came, on this particular exercise run and tour of duty…” Frankie rambles.

“Frankie?”

Frankie stills.  

“Yes?”

“Do you
always
talk so much?” Rex kids.

She knows he’s made up his mind, with his wise crack.

“I’m in too.” Rex quickly declares.

Frankie feels her heart stop. She squeezes her eyes shut, deeply touched both of them would risk so much for her. 

“I think it may be best you leave it to me to go alone. I’ll take the radio, and call if I’m in trouble.” She insists, fearless and recklessly determined. She’s done recon before, and is brilliantly equipped to handle herself, not willing to admit her injury a deficit and most obviously not thinking logically.

“No.” Storm’s voice is soft and firm. “You know I’m coming.”

“Ditto on that” Rex adds “We’re not
letting
you do this alone. It’s settled.” 

Frankie feels her heart might break out of relief, and the deepest of love for both of them. She breathes in and out, in a heavy sigh.

“We should do it tonight.” Storm says, knowing full well that’s what he would do, and certain that’s what Frankie wants.  

“But... you know it'll be...”

“Shhhh.”  Storm interrupts. “We know we’re not as tough and fearless as you…” Storm chides. “But we’ll put on our big boy pants and somehow manage” he teased.

“I don't want you getting hurt or reprimanded on my account. But
I
have to do this…” Frankie continues to insist.

“Is she always so stubborn?” Storm playfully asks Rex.

Frankie laughs. “We'll meet tonight, then. At the boats. 23 hundred hours.” 

They both grin. “Done.”

“What’s 23 hundred hours?” Rex asks Storm in the most serious tone he can muster, as they turn to leave, snickering as they both glance back to catch the show, her expression.

They look at each other, in silent agreement. Seal Code, now in effect.

Heading to gather Team 7, they shared the news of the evening mission, the meeting time and place, with a few ideas of their own. Frankie was kept out of their plans intentionally, sending her to rest before the big night. She needed it, and both Rex and Storm knew it best to say nothing. Getting shot wasn’t something to be taken as lightly as she was trying to pass off, having both been shot before.

In fact, they both knew much more than what was spoken, of each other, yet said nothing of that, as it wasn’t necessary.  Seal Code means you ALWAYS have your brothers back. Rex, despite his feelings for Frankie, could see she had feelings for Storm, and vice versa. He knew very well how to read his buddies antics, and kept his feelings in check, as well as he could, anyway. He still held out a small bit of hope though, as SEAL code meant that the lady chose where her heart lay, and a brother would have to respect that decision, and each other. It was up to Frankie. Rex could also tell they had gotten much closer, seeing Storms all-nighter at her bedside at the infirmary, and noticing a change in demeanor today.

He was still there for her though, as he always had been, and always will be. That’s just who he is, and why he was so well loved amongst everyone. His integrity and standards are impeccable. They had an understanding, and were ALL in it together, that’s what made their TEAM the most successful, above all others.

SEAL code saves lives, plain and simple. It’s a brotherhood like no other, as deep as blood. Deeper, often.

***

It’s 23 hundred hours.

The sea is inky black and far, far below the side of the ship. Frankie and Rex are together, over where the lifeboats are stored. Their plan is to launch one, and, with it, get to shore. This is dangerous, for so many reasons. If they are successful, then all will be forgiven. But if they are caught before making the attempt...it could cost them all their careers, not to mention lives.

Silent, they unfasten a lifeboat from its mooring, and make ready to lower it to the sea, far below. This is challenging, as it will surely make a noise as it hits the sea.

They are almost done, when they hear a footfall behind them on the deck.

“Hi.”

Storm. Frankie breathes out a great sigh of relief.

“Hi.” Her voice is light with relief. “We're just getting started with the lifeboat.”

“Here...let me help. If we do it like this, it will be quieter.”

With Storm's help, they get the boat launched, quietly. They wait a moment, to ensure that no-one was alerted to their presence. Then it is the long way down.

Frankie hates this part. Even after all these years, the dizzying drop over the side to the ocean is somewhat disconcerting, for some reason. She closes her eyes, takes a breath, and climbs down the rungs to the sea. She wonders how she thought she could actually perform the mission alone, laughing quietly to herself, at the sheer insanity of it.

Twenty minutes later, the rest of Team 7 follow suit, in a second boat, as back up, entering on the North West side of the bay.  

Rowing the boat in the direction of the shore is no simple task, a motor not an option at this time. It takes them almost an hour before they can hear the sound of breakers on the shore, and see the faint line of the beach, before them in the darkness.

Ashore, and soaked, they haul the boat from the water, and find somewhere to hide it for fast, easy access of their future retreat. And, hopefully, they will not be taking it alone.

“Right.” They stand together, looking at a map. From the Intel they managed from the interviews, they have a good idea of where prisoners might be held. About a hundred meters up the shore, there is an inlet, where there is a small harbor, and some containers. This harbor is unused, as far as they can tell. This would be a perfect place to keep prisoners intended for ransom, or trade.

They look at each other.

“Right.” Frankie's voice is brave.