Saving the Seal 2: A BWWM Navy Seal Interracial Romance (2 page)

“I understand what you’re saying, Mom. Really I do. But no one knows we’re here except you, Sean and Gina. I think that makes us pretty safe.” A shiver crept up her spine as Owen crept up behind her, cradling her body with his. He began to press soft, intimate kisses from the line of her shoulder up the side of her neck.

“Just be careful, Genny. You know Jared and I worry about you constantly.”

The admission made the young woman smile. Though she wasn’t particularly close with her stepfather, she knew he was a good man. That he worried about her showed his affection.

“I’m fine, Mom. Really. I’m being super careful.” Well, not at the moment. Just now, she was allowing Owen to do things to her that bordered on exhibitionism.

“As long as you’re safe. You’ll check back in with me tomorrow?” As if Genevieve had a choice. She knew that her mother was just being a parent, however, and so she swallowed her groan and answered the affirmative.

“Sure, Mom. Talk to you tomorrow.”

“Say hello to Owen for me, sweetheart.” Martha added jauntily. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Mom.” The moment she hung up, Genny dropped the phone onto the blanket, glaring over her shoulder at her boyfriend. “Are you trying to get me in trouble?”

In reply, the former SEAL only bit hungrily at her neck, making her yelp softly in surprise. She smacked his arm gently in retaliation. “What I’m trying to do,” Owen growled lowly, “is get you back to the cabana.”

Genny laughed softly. “You could have just asked.”

“
Mmm
.” Owen captured her earlobe between his teeth to tug sensuously. “But I like to watch you squirm.” As if in demonstration of his prowess, Genny did just that. When Owen touched her like she was the only thing in the world – as if it were all he wanted to do – all of her worries effectively vanished.

It took relatively little coaxing to get her off the beach. The moment Genevieve scooped up their blanket, Owen lifted her into his arms, tossing her over his shoulder. The supremely Alpha male movement made her shout in indignation, even as she tried not to laugh.

The cabana was cool and dim inside, the shutters closed. Genny barely had time to drop their things onto the floor before Owen’s mouth descended upon hers, devouring her lips hungrily. Genny’s hands immediately tunneled through his hair. Through sheer laziness, the man refused to cut it. In a year, it had grown a bit past his shoulders, and the dark strands were luxurious and silky.

His body was still damp from the surf, but she hardly cared. As they made their way haphazardly towards the bedroom, Owen worked at the strings of her bikini top. Within seconds, it had been flung off somewhere, leaving her bare from the waist up.

Genny gasped as her lover lifted her against the bedroom wall in a smooth motion, taking the tip of a breast between his lips to suckle copiously. Sensation burst through her, making her shudder as her womb clenched in unadulterated need.

Owen groaned at the taste of her, licking and sucking at her nipple in a way that drew whimpers of pleasure from her. He held her aloft effortlessly, her legs wrapped around his waist as he had his wicked way with her.

It had been too long.

Far
too long.

Owen took his time, savoring her breasts one by one until he finally carried her over to the edge of the bed to set her down on the mussed coverlet. Genevieve rose onto her knees, steadying her hands against his chest, and kissed over the lines of each of his collarbones. He was tangy – salty – and he moaned low in his throat as she continued southward. The dark-skinned woman’s tongue flicked at the dark coins of his nipples, making his pectoral muscles tighten beneath her palms.

As one hand reached for the laces to his swimming trunks, Genny continued her path ever southward. Owen’s body was a work of art – sculpted like a marble statue – and each scar that marred it was a badge of courage. There was a healed bullet wound just above his ribs, and the remains of an encounter with a machete sliced across his abdomen. Genevieve followed each mark lovingly with her lips, slowly working Owen’s one and only garment down and over his hips.

When his erection sprang free, she marveled at it. Thick, deep red, and pulsing, it bobbed up against his abdomen fairly weeping for her attention. Genny wrapped slender fingers around the base, enjoying the way Owen’s thighs tensed in response. His fingers tunneled through her curls and the young woman took the head of his erection between her lips, savoring his flavor. A low grunt escaped the man and his grip tightened against her scalp, making her pulse race.

She loved this – loved the control she could have over him and the way she could reduce him to putty beneath her touch. As she began to take him down her throat, Owen groaned her name, thrusting slightly deeper into the warmth she offered and Genny took him even deeper. At his urging, she started to bob her head up and down, covering the length of his cock in a glistening sheen of her saliva.

Owen wasn’t often patient enough to let her do this to him. When he wanted her, he needed immediate gratification. Never mind that he had no problem using his mouth on
her
for hours before he finally fulfilled her. When it came to his own pleasure, there was nothing he liked so much as being buried inside her. Even though Genny knew that this had to be a close second.

She continued to torture him, running her tongue over the underside of his cock so a soft curse escaped him. Not five seconds after that little trick, Owen was gently drawing her away from his erection by her hair. His mouth found hers, exploring with brusque, insistent force. “You know better, Genny.” He warned against her mouth, making her femininity tighten in anticipation.

The next thing she knew, her lover had flipped her onto her stomach, tugging her hips to the edge of the bed so that she was bent over the side. Owen kissed the back of her neck tenderly a moment before his fingers wrapped around her waist and he thrust into her in one swift motion. Genny cried out, shuddering at the sudden fullness as her inner muscles contracted hungrily around the invasion.

Owen hissed her name from between clenched teeth before beginning a pounding rhythm. He would be gentle later, Genevieve knew. Tenderness would come after they got all the frustration from their systems – after they’d recovered their sanity. Now, she needed him hard and fast, and Owen gave her exactly that.

The sound of his skin making contact with hers, over and over, filled the room as each delicious thrust drove her hips flush against the mattress, weakening her knees. Genny wanted to sob, to scream his name, but nothing but whimpers and moans escaped her. She grabbed handfuls of the sheets beneath her and she was sure she must have torn something, but at the moment, her mind was filled with how unbearably good Owen felt, fucking her into a near delirium.

As he grew closer and closer to his climax, the SEAL’s rhythm grew more and more frenzied, until he was pumping into her with a force that took her breath away. Genevieve gasped, her hips backing back against his eagerly once, twice – before she exploded. Her orgasm crashed over her like a wave and she trembled violently, her womanhood milking Owen’s pulsating cock hungrily.

He shouted her name, thrusting once more – impossibly deep – before spilling himself within her willing body. With a groan, the man collapsed atop her, his warm weight pinning her to the bed.

Closing her eyes, Genevieve sighed blissfully. God, she needed that.
They
needed that.

It was a long moment until Owen finally raised himself from her, and Genny bit her lip as he slid from her, leaving her sated and sleepy. When the man lifted her from her hips to scoot her completely onto the bed, a soft laugh escaped her. Lazily, she turned onto her back to watch him join her on the mattress, gloriously nude and gleaming with a thin sheen of sweat.

“You are
gorgeous
.” She breathed softly, watching muscle groups bunch and contract with rapt attention. “You know that, right?”

“That’s supposed to be my line.” He grunted, settling next to her as he smoothed a few strands of dark hair from her brow. His lips met hers leisurely, and for a moment, she kissed him, the sound of the ocean filtering into their room through the open window.

Once he let her get a breath, Genny cupped his face, staring deeply into his eyes. Her fingertips traced the jagged scar on the side of his face as she relished the sight of him – reveled in the fact that this man was
hers.
“I love you, Owen.” She murmured lowly, her lips curving into a smile.

With a sigh, Owen buried his face in her shoulder, his weight warm and welcome. “You too.”

Since the very first time Owen admitted he loved her, she’d only ever managed to get him to murmur those two words to her in reply to her own profession. Genny knew better than to push. She didn’t doubt the way he felt about her and eventually, she was sure he would be able to speak more freely about how he felt.

After all, she hadn’t forgotten how emotionally constipated the man could be. It had taken her months to get him to admit to his own problems, and they were still working on getting him back to active duty like he wanted. It would be easier after the trial was all over and done with. There was a lot of pressure on both of them just now.

It was enough for Genevieve to be with him, alone, like this. With a smile, she stroked through his hair, closing her eyes as she lounged, half asleep, among pillows and mussed sheets. Just now, she didn’t have a care in the world.

**

Owen didn’t move until she’d been asleep for at least five minutes. He was loathe to disturb her. For the past few months it seemed that Genny was up until three or four every night, looking up information in obscure law volumes and going over the papers they would use to press their case against the Admiral and Doctor Kant. While he helped as much as he could, it was clear that Genevieve had more of a mind for paperwork than he did. As a psychiatrist, she’d been filling out forms all her life. In Owen’s line of work, he usually passed his paperwork off onto anyone willing to do it.

He considered himself a man of action. But he was smart enough to know that the actions they took now need more behind them than brute force. To go up against someone who had half of the East Coast Armed Forces in his pocket, and the former head of Riperton’s Psychiatry department, would require wits.

But, Owen never doubted they’d win. Genevieve was brilliant. It was one of the things that had drawn him to her in the first place. She filled in all his gaps, compensated for his brusqueness and softened his rough edges.

She was his perfect match.

So why the hell was he having such a hard time telling her so?

The SEAL worked his way from bed gently, careful not to disturb the sleeping woman beside him. When he’d extricated himself from her grip, he covered her with a light blanket before padding, naked, to the kitchen to retrieve a beer.

As he took a long drag, he silently berated himself. He’d already told her he loved her once. What would be so hard about repeating a simple phrase? Genny knew how he felt about her. He was pretty sure it was evident in every look he gave her – in every touch they shared. However, he knew how women were.

And even if he didn’t, Sean would have filled in those gaps for him. When he’d mentioned his difficulty in speaking of his feelings with Genny, the man had merely snorted, calling him hopeless.

“The woman gives up everything for you, and you can’t even say three little words.” The Captain had scoffed, shaking his head in reluctant amusement. “Still a stubborn jackass.”

Owen might have felt less guilty if Sean’s words hadn’t been true. Genevieve
had
given him everything. For him, she’d risked and eventually lost her job, faced ridicule by the military system and by people who called him a liar. She hadn’t hesitated, not even once, to stand by him.

And here he was hiding in the kitchen with his beer.

The SEAL cursed lowly. How was it that he could jump out of planes into enemy territory, shoot a target from two kilometers away and go hand to hand with terrorists, but he couldn’t tell Genny how much he loved her?

Part of him blamed his old man. As much as he loved the cantankerous codger – and as much as he appreciated him standing by his son during the hell he’d gone through – Eli Sinclair had never been big on emotions or displays of affection. His dad had been all about instilling a sense of masculinity and purpose into his only son. Though his efforts had ultimately succeeded, Owen was a man who would rather wallow in his woes than share them with anyone.

It was lucky for him that Genny was patient. That she wasn’t put off by his outbursts and tantrums. Slowly but surely, he was
trying
to come to terms with what had happened to him in Fallujah two years ago. He was trying to find more stable ground and build a solid foundation for returning to what he loved.

But he knew he still had a while to go.

And that was
if
they won the case. Owen knew they had the evidence. There was enough proof to convict Kant and Trace a hundred times over. The question was: who did they have on their side? That was what was going to determine the outcome of this fight. Who had friends in higher places?