SEALs Love Curves Book 7: Forbidden

Mason stared up at the ceiling of his crappy studio apartment. Every time he tried to tell himself he should move some place new, he remembered the look in Megan’s eyes when she realized she was going to die. And that he was the one who took her life. He didn’t deserve more than the shithole he lived in, and he never would.

If he ever thought about moving again, all he needed to do was remember seeing Bernadette and those thoughts would go away.

He didn’t blame her for her anger. She had every right to feel it. He bounced between anger and shame most days. But the last couple of years working with F-BOMB started to give him a chance to feel useful again. Like he was making a difference in the world.

But Bernadette with her auburn hair and her dark brown eyes… she and Megan could have been twins. Bernadette was always thin to Megan’s curvy, but otherwise, they shared a striking number of traits. Right down to the way they laughed. They would finish each other’s sentences and could have conversations without ever speaking. Mason never wanted to come between them and welcomed Bernadette into their lives. He considered her a sister, until she showed up at Megan’s funeral with the police and insisted they arrest Mason for Megan’s death.

It didn’t matter that Mason had been questioned and released, they listened to her. And when they asked Mason for specific details, he didn’t fight the charges brought against him. He wanted to be punished for what happened to Megan. It didn’t matter that it was an accident. He didn’t deserve to live a free life if she couldn’t also.

It took years of court-mandated therapy before Mason could begin to accept it was an accident and that shit happens. But one conversation with Bernadette and all those years were gone. He would have gone to jail all over again if she called the cops right then. Because in that moment, all that guilt rushed right back to the surface.

The silence and the remorse pressed in on him. He stared at the bottle of bourbon on his coffee table. Glared at it. He wanted nothing more than to rip the seal and drain the brand new bottle, but he just glared at it. It had been years since Mason had a drink like that. A beer with the guys, a drink on the rocks once in a while, but drinking alone was out of the question. When he drank alone, the pain rushed in.

He swallowed roughly, feeling like he had stones in his throat instead of saliva. He leaned forward and grabbed the bottle. He slid it out of the paper bag they gave him at the store and stared at it. It seemed innocent enough. Something simple. A bottle of liquor was no big deal.

He tore the seal and twisted off the cap. He inhaled deeply. The pungent bite of the alcohol filled his nose and the room. He brought the bottle up, but before he could press it to his lips, there was a knock at the door.

He stared at it, half expecting the knock to be followed by a shout that it was the police. There to arrest him again. He waited. The door didn’t swing open on its own. No shouts came from the other side.

Mason thought maybe whoever was there left, but another knock sounded. Louder this time. More insistent.

Mason jammed the cap back on the bottle and set it on the table. He stomped to the door as the person knocked a third time. He yanked it open as he shouted, “Jesus, what the hell?”

“Hello to you, too,” Megan said with a smile. No. Slade’s little sister. Megan was Mason’s wife. He couldn’t confuse the two of them. Not when his mind was already messed up.

“What are you doing here?”

She shrugged and brushed past him, letting herself into his tiny, crappy apartment. “I came to see you.”

“This is not a good idea,” Mason growled. He stayed at the door, holding it open so she could leave. She needed to leave. He couldn’t have her there. If she stayed… No. Her staying wasn’t an option.

She smiled at him. “What isn’t a good idea?” She looked innocent. Like she really had no idea what kind of danger she was playing with. She probably didn’t know anything about his past, but that didn’t mean she should show up at a stranger’s door and let herself in.

“How did you find out where I live?”

She shrugged. “I have my ways.”

“You need to go.”

“Why?” She walked around like she owned the place. Like she belonged there. She sat on the couch and raised an eyebrow at the bottle of bourbon on the table. “Not my favorite. Just water for me.”

“I don’t remember offering you a drink.”

She stared at him, one brow raised, until Mason sighed and slammed the door. “One fucking drink.” He stomped to the kitchen, a kitchen that was really cabinets and appliances in the corner of the open room, and yanked the cabinet door open. He snatched a cup from inside, then slammed the door. He filled the cup from the faucet and carried it over to her, setting it on the table. He stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting.

She looked up at him and smiled. That fucking smile. She was far too young for him, and when she smiled, she looked way too sweet and innocent. The three together were a dangerous combination.

“Thank you.”

He grunted in response and couldn’t stop himself from staring as she lifted the cup to her lips. She licked them before opening her mouth. Her tongue darted out and caught the underside of the cup, and his cock hardened. He was jealous of a fucking cup. And losing his damn mind.

He stared at her while she drank the water, slowly. Her throat bobbed with each swallow. Her eyes lifted to his over the upper rim. His cock pressed hard against his zipper. He wanted to knock the cup away and put something else in her mouth.

Fucking hell.

“Aren’t you going to sit?” she asked, patting the seat next to her.

“No. Because you’re about to leave.”

“Actually, no, I’m not. I’m staying here tonight.”

“Like hell you are.”

“Are you married?”

“No.”

“Engaged? Involved?”

“No.”

“Gay?”

“No.”

“So it’s just me.” She nodded and drew a breath. She stood and smoothed a hand over her shirt. “I guess I misunderstood things the other night.”

She moved toward the door, but he couldn’t let her walk away like that. He knew he should. That if she was hurt, she wouldn’t come back. But he couldn’t let her think he didn’t want her because she wasn’t enough for him.

“There isn’t a damn thing wrong with you,” Mason growled. Her back was to him, her hand on the knob. She didn’t turn, but he could tell she was absorbing his words. “You’re… shit, you’re fucking gorgeous. You don’t have any idea what you do to me. But I’m wrong for you. You and me can’t happen.”

“Why not?” She turned to face him, her arms crossed under her plump breasts. They lifted, begging Mason to bury his face between them.

“Fucking hell, Megan. I’m a hundred years older than you are, for one. For two, your brother will kill me. And for three—”

“My brother knows I’m here. He doesn’t care.”

Mason stared at her for a long minute. “There’s no way he knows.”

She shrugged. “He does, but even if he didn’t, I’m an adult. I’m thirty years old. I’m not a child.”

“You’re still too young for me.”

“Just tell me I’m not pretty and I’ll go. I don’t need you to placate me with lies because you don’t find me attractive.”

Mason stormed across the room and pressed himself against her. Her back hit the door. He ground himself against her core, making sure she felt just how much he wanted her.

“I’m not lying. You’re making me so crazy I don’t think I can keep my hands off you for much longer. But this is a bad idea.”

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and her mouth a perfect circle of shock. She sucked in a ragged breath, lifting her breasts and rubbing them against his chest. She dropped her purse to the floor and leaped at him, wrapping her arms around his neck the same moment she pulled him down to her.

Mason tried to resist, but she caught him off guard, and the moment their lips touched, he knew he was fucked. In every way possible.

He just wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

* * *

Megan knew the moment she saw him that he was dangerous. That he was the kind of man who could rip someone to shreds if he decided it was warranted. She knew he was wrong for her on every level. But she needed wrong. She needed a man who wasn’t going to make her fall in love. A man who wasn’t going to fill her head with empty promises and whispered niceties. She needed sex. Good, hard, dirty sex that would remind her she was a woman.

Mason’s hands tightened on her sides, pinching, stilling her. She was sure he was going to set her to the side and walk away, but then his hands slid around her back and he pressed himself to her again and she nearly cried with relief.

Showing up there was a risk. One she wasn’t sure was a good idea or a bad one. Justin would kill her if he knew where she was, but Megan didn’t answer to her brother. He would never know Megan slept with his friend.

Mason thrust his tongue into her mouth and pushed away all thoughts of everything except the two of them. He leaned his weight on her, letting her feel the hard line of his erection beneath his jeans. Megan wanted that. She wanted him. She wanted to be more than a human incubator.

Mason took a step back and stared at her. Megan wanted to leap at him again, but the look in his eyes was no longer angry. There was something else there. Something she didn’t understand. Something that looked like regret or pain or…

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his voice reverent and rough, like he couldn’t stop himself from saying the words, but he didn’t want to.

“Take off your shirt,” Megan said in response. She’d been dying to see him without a shirt on since he walked into the room at Justin’s. She could tell he was strong, but she wanted to see his muscles.

The man did not disappoint. He did as she asked and yanked his shirt over his head. He tossed it to the side and stood still in front of her, letting her look at him.

Megan took a tentative step forward and looked up at him, silently asking permission.

“If you’re spending the night, you’re going to need to touch me, eventually. Unless that was a friendly kiss.” His voice was a blend of frustrated and patient, and the jagged edge of it danced over Megan’s nerves like a delicate touch. She trembled and reached out to him, putting her hand on his chest. He sucked in a breath.

Megan looked up at him and met his gaze. He stared down at her from a good six inches. He didn’t pull back or close his eyes, he just watched, which gave Megan the courage to keep going.

She put her other hands on him and slid them around his exposed upper body. She traced the muscles with her fingers, then with her tongue, loving that Mason wasn’t trying to guide her. He was simply letting her explore him. Letting her take what she wanted from him.

“Take off your shirt,” Mason said. He growled as Megan nipped at one of his nipples.

She lifted the hem of her shirt and pulled back. “Can we turn off the lights?”

“No,” Mason growled, reaching for her.

Megan hesitated, considering pulling her shirt back down and just leaving. She didn’t want to, but she also didn’t want the beautiful specimen of a man to see all her flabby parts. She had far too many of them, and while she wasn’t showing yet, she didn’t want him to think she could be pregnant. She’d been accused of it plenty over the years. The curse of being overweight with a big belly.

“I want to see you. I need to see you.”

Megan was sure he’d take one look at her and tell her to cover up. She had to know. She had to know if he was pretending when he said he wanted her or if he meant it. The blow would be enough to send her back home, enough to make the decision for her about staying or leaving, but she couldn’t stay and not know.

She lifted her shirt again, slowly, waiting for him to tell her to stop. She watched his face. He sucked in a breath when her stomach was exposed. He blew it out in a growl when her black lace bra came into view. And when she pulled her shirt over her head and moved to drop it to the ground, he cupped her breasts and buried his head in them.

“Oh, fuck,” he whispered against her skin. “So soft.” He licked the skin between her breasts and kissed his way to one nipple. He sucked hard, drawing the tight bud into his mouth through the fabric. Her breasts had been sensitive for weeks, and the rough treatment made her cry out.

“Oh, God.”

He growled in response and moved to the other one. She couldn’t stop herself from latching onto his head and holding him there. Her nipples had never been so sensitive. She couldn’t let him stop.

His hands went around her back, and the pressure of her bra released. He tugged it from her arms and leaned back just enough to remove the barrier between them. His mouth went right back to work, sucking on her nipple again, and she threw her head back in ecstasy.

“Oh, yes,” she moaned.

“Love this,” he groaned. “More.”

She couldn’t stop if she tried. It had been months since she’d touched a man, and she was losing all hope that her body would feel normal again. If this was what sex was like when she was pregnant, she might get pregnant over and over again so she could feel this good. And they hadn’t even made it to the good stuff.

Mason squeezed her breasts together and sucked both nipples into his mouth. Megan cried out, her body tightening with a mini-orgasm teaser. She whimpered, needing more. And Mason clearly got the message.

He pulled back and stood upright before guiding her to the bed in the corner of the room. The entire place screamed bachelor pad, but Megan didn’t care how the man lived. She only cared how he fucked. And she was about to find out.

“Take off your pants,” Mason growled. He reached for his button and zipper and shoved his pants down roughly. His cock sprang up, long and thick. It was surrounded by tight curls and tighter muscles.

Megan’s mouth watered at the sight of him. She always enjoyed giving blow jobs, and seeing Mason’s cock made him irresistible. She dropped to her knees in front of him and licked the tip. He groaned.

“Fucking hell.” He stared down at her as she parted her lips and sucked him inside. He thrust into her mouth, hitting the back of her throat before he was all the way inside. She tried to relax her muscles and take more of him in, but he was too big. It didn’t seem to matter to him, though.

Megan cupped his balls and worked her head back and forth. Mason threaded his hands into her hair and guided her to the rhythm he wanted. He grunted and swelled, then yanked her back.

Every muscle in his body tightened, and he groaned. “Fuck.”

“What happened?”

“Take off your clothes. Now.”

Megan had never seen a man like Mason. A man who was so close to the edge that he could barely breathe. He moved to the nightstand next to his bed and yanked the drawer open. He tore a condom open and rolled it on, flinching as he did it.

“I need you naked,” he growled over his shoulder when he saw she hadn’t moved yet.

Megan jumped into action and stripped off her clothes. Her thighs were wet where they came together, her entire body ready for Mason. Sucking on him was the best foreplay she’d ever had.

Mason moved toward her, stalking her around the edge of his bed. She didn’t run from him or play games. She wanted him as much as he clearly wanted her. He didn’t slow down as he approached and slammed into her body all at once, his arms locking around her back the same moment his lips claimed hers in a kiss that sent her mind spiraling and her body into overdrive.

They panted as they came apart, and Mason spun her away from him. He kissed his way down her spine and licked his way back up. He pressed gently between her shoulder blades until she bent over the edge of the bed. His thighs rubbed the backs of hers and his cock lined up perfectly with her entrance. He pressed her lower back to tip her hips up, then groaned with her as he eased inside.

“Fuck yes,” he said, stilling once he filled her.

“No kidding,” Megan replied.

He slid out, then slammed into her, the force of his stroke pressing her face into the mattress. She moaned in response.

“Need you,” he grunted. “So good.”

He held onto her hips and pumped into her. Megan pressed back against him, meeting every stroke with her own. She’d never been with a man like him. A man who made her feel like she was beautiful. Most of the men she was with made her feel like she was good enough, but Mason… Mason made it seem like the whole thing was his idea. Like he couldn’t get enough of her.

He grunted as he got closer. It didn’t take him long. Megan squeezed her channel around him, and he sped up, fucking her harder, faster. He slammed into her, stilling deep inside and swelling. She gripped him again and felt his cock release into her.

“Fuck,” he grunted, the word ripped from him. A shout in her ear that nearly sent her over the edge. And the only disappointment in the whole thing. She didn’t get to come.

He lay on her back, struggling to catch his breath, while Megan wondered how she could have some privacy for her own orgasm. She wasn’t going to touch herself right then and there, even though she knew it wouldn’t take long. And going back to her brother’s house to do it was all kinds of weird. But she needed to come. She was tender and ready, and she’d be crabby if she didn’t alleviate the building pressure.

Mason shifted slightly and kissed her back. He lifted himself off her back, but he didn’t move away. He stroked a few times inside her, then said, “I should have taken care of you first.”

“It’s fine,” Megan lied.

“It’s never fine,” Mason growled. His hands slid around her body, one going to her sensitive breasts and the other between her thighs. “Can I touch you while I’m still inside you?”

Megan’s answer was a moan.

He brushed a thumb over her nipple and cradled her clit between two fingers, and Megan cried out again.

“Squeeze my cock, beautiful. Let me have it,” he whispered. “Don’t hold back.”

Megan was surprised to learn she was a fan of dirty talk. She tilted her head to the side so his lips were against the shell of her ear. “Talk to me.”

“You want to hear how good you feel? How I want to fuck you again? How I could fuck you again right now. Especially if you keep squeezing my dick like you are. You’re so fucking wet for me. And these nipples… I can’t get enough of them. The sweet taste of them. Are you going to let me suck on all of you?”

“Yes,” Megan moaned.

“It’s a good fucking thing we have all night.”

“Yes,” Megan screamed, her orgasm finally breaking free. He didn’t let up as she came hard, her entire body shaking with the intensity.

“Fucking hell. That was amazing.” He finally pulled out and flipped her onto her back. Mason spread her thighs wide and moved to enter her again, then froze.

Megan looked at him, wondering what was wrong. Something was definitely wrong.

“Please tell me you weren’t a virgin,” Mason said quietly.

“What? No. Why would you ask me that?”

“Because you’re bleeding. Please, God—”

Megan shook her head and moved to get up. “I’m not a virgin. But I am pregnant.”