Stone Hard SEALs Page 13

For what?

  Drake frowned when he realized Ryder was waiting for him.

  Goddamn it.

  He tapped his mic and reported that he was good to go, but there was no response—nothing but an annoying crackle. Thankfully, Ryder glanced in his direction and Drake gave the hand signal that he was ready to roll. At Ryder’s nod, Drake guided his hostage around the hut toward the beach. No doubt, Ryder was following suit.

  But then all fucking hell broke loose. A couple yells echoed from the tree line and then the chatter of automatic fire peppered the village, shots going wild. Zack, Mason and Tate edged back and returned fire.

  Drake pushed his hostage through the scrub, making sure to keep his body between hers and the incoming rounds. A snarl of pain screamed through his upper thigh and he stumbled, but he kept going. Another round hit the armor on his back and he lurched forward.

  A rain of suppressive fire sounded from Ryder’s side of the encampment and Drake was hit with twin trails of relief and worry. Goddamn Ryder for drawing fire. He should have bugged out when he had a chance.

  As much as he wanted to stay and help the others repel the attack, he knew his mission was to get this hostage to the LZ, and quickly.

  Pity there wasn’t much quick about his retreat. The muscles of his right leg were numb. He felt like a zombie, dragging one leg behind him, begging for braaaains. Someone else was going to have to escort this angel to safety.

  What a fucking shame.

  “I’m hit, guys,” he said into his bone phone. Static flickered back. “Come back?”

  Nothing.

  Shit.

  Coms were often iffy in a combat situation. He tapped the receiver. Fiddled with the connections. Nothing.

  Shit.

  The weapons fire in the village heated up and Drake heard someone cry out. This mission was going tits up and fast. They needed to boogie. Though he didn’t have eyeballs on any of the other members of his team, he’d memorized the map and he knew exactly where to go. He grabbed the woman by the arm and pushed her ahead of him into the trees, traveling parallel to the beach.

  They didn’t get far, maybe a mile, before he dropped.

  No doubt it was the loss of blood that made his head spin, or the pain, but he couldn’t go on.

  He thrust his rifle at her. “Keep going. Straight down the beach. You’ll see the extraction point where the island cuts inland.”

  She frowned at him. “I’m not leaving you.”

  “You have to.”

  “You’ve been shot.”

  He tipped his head to the side. “Really? How’d you figure that out?”

  “I’m a nurse. I can help you.”

  “No you can’t. You can keep moving down the beach and fucking get on the chopper. When the other guys come by, they’ll get me.”

  “And what if the pirates come by?”

  He forced a grin. “They’ll get me too.”

  “Goddamn it,” she grumbled. “I hate soldiers.”

  “I’m not a soldier.” His voice was faint because his mouth wouldn’t work right. “I’m a fucking SEAL.”

  Her fingers played around his waist, awfully close to his cock. It was too bad he was worthless to her at the moment. He could feel the sticky warmth of his blood on his leg and he knew there wasn’t much time. If the bullet nicked his femoral artery, he would bleed out in minutes.

  “You’re a fucking hotshot. God, I can’t stand your type.”

  “My type is awesome.” Hardly a pithy comeback, but he was—probably—bleeding out.

  “We need to get the bullet out. Do you have a first aid kit?” Damn, she was cute when she nibbled her lip.

  “In my pack.” He waved somewhere behind him.

  “And a Gerber?”

  He blinked. “You know what a Gerber is?”

  “Do you have one?”

  “Of course.” Everyone carried a multi-tool.

  She flipped him over and fiddled around in his backpack for a moment. He really hated feeling so helpless. He was being ravaged by a woman, for fuck’s sake.

  He didn’t mind the ravaging part, as much as the fact he couldn’t really enjoy it because he kept drifting in and out of consciousness. Then there was the pain. That was pretty fucking bad too. Not to mention the humiliation…

  It only got worse.

  Because then she yanked down his pants.

  And his underwear.

  How mortifying.

  He lay on the loam, with his Skivvies down around his knees, with the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen staring at his bare ass…and there was nothing he could do about it.

  The welling blackness was a mercy.

  * * *

  Brandy stared at the wound. It was too dark to see. At least he’d stopped wriggling. She found a glow stick in his pack and cracked it. It was dangerous to do so, but she needed to get that bullet out—preferably before he woke up.

  Thank God it was high on his leg, buried not too deep in the thick, roping muscle. A good place to be shot, all things considered. Given that he was still alive and kicking, the round had missed the artery. She tried not to think about those muscles, or the tight curve of his ass, as she sterilized the Gerber and found the slug. It was slippery with his blood, but she grabbed it and worked it out.

  He groaned and when she doused the site with alcohol, he thrashed a bit, but he remained unconscious. She covered the wound and tried to lift his leg to wrap the gauze around it, but damn, he was heavy. She had to flip him over to—

  Oh crap.

  His cock was enormous. She tried to glance away, but her gaze kept drifting back as she worked. She bent his knee so she could reach.

  Focus. Focus.

  As a nurse, she’d had male patients. She’d certainly seen a penis before…but damn. What did they feed these boys?

  She shot a look at his face, and her brain seized. Her attention stalled. He was covered with war paint and tinged in the green light of the glow stick, but a blind woman could tell this was one hot guy. His features were a mélange of hard angles and soft curves. His cheekbones were high and his forehead broad. His nose was long and slightly crooked—as though it had been broken—and his lips were full. He had sinfully long lashes.

  That alone made her want to smack him.

  It was just wrong for a man to have lashes like that.

  She didn’t look at his neck, because she knew it was thick and muscled—and she had a thing for necks.

  The last thing she wanted, in the entire world, was to have a thing for a squid. She’d had enough of that shit growing up. Her first time had been with a SEAL—in retrospect, revenge against a father who had left them when she was twelve. The romance had been a disaster. He had been a disaster.

  Never again, she’d sworn. Never again.

  She sucked in a breath and finished up the bandage and tried to yank his pants back up, but his big fat ass was lying on them and she couldn’t get them to budge. So she tugged up his tighty-whities—trying not to roll her eyes because he wore tighty-whities—and covered his manhood.

  Even though it was flaccid, the silhouette was…impressive.

  A cry echoed through the trees and Brandy stilled, struggling to hear. Her heart lurched as she recognized the patois of their captors. Crap. They couldn’t find this guy. They’d kill him for sure. She tucked the glow stick under the arch of his back and lay down on top of him, covering his body with hers.

  It was dark. Maybe they wouldn’t be seen.

  Still, she held her breath as footsteps pounded past. Her pulse rocketed in her ears. Sweat prickled her brow.

  Damn. Maybe she should just take off down the beach and…but no. She could never leave him.

  Not just because he was a gorgeous dude with a rather impressive package. He was her patient and she’d taken an oath. If roles were reversed, she was certain he wouldn’t leave her here. Hell, a warrior like this would pick her up, toss her over his shoulder and carry her away—he seemed that strong—but he w
ouldn’t leave her.

  She owed him at least as much.

  That was it. Her professional standards. Nothing more.

  However, after the pirates passed, she didn’t roll off him. Not right away.

  And not because it felt so damn…good. They might come back. They could come back at any minute.

  That was the only reason.

  It was.

  * * *

  Holy fuck. She was lying on him. Her weight was delicious. Her warmth magnificent. The pressure—

  Drake’s cock stirred.

  Okay. Maybe not a stir so much as a full-on woody, shooting up like a fucking heat-seeking missile.

  Her head jerked up. She frowned at him.

  He grinned.

  She grumbled something to herself and rolled off.

  Damn.

  “Pull your pants up,” she snapped. Man, she was cranky. He thought about asking her if she was on her period, but thought better of it. He usually got smacked when he did that.

  “You pulled them down,” he reminded her.

  “You’re lying on them. I couldn’t get them back up. And be careful. Don’t rip off the bandage.”

  He gaped at her. “You bandaged my wound?”

  “Of course I did! Why do you think I took off your pants?”

  “Um… To check out my ween?”

  She did smack him then—on his chest—but it didn’t hurt…him. She yelped and shook her hand. At some point she was going to learn that his body armor was hard. “I did not check out your…ween.”

  “Didn’t you?” He was only kidding, but as he sat up, a green glow flooded the space and he saw her blush rise. Hah! She had checked out his ween. But she’d also bandaged his wound, so he decided not to tease her. Too much. “So… What did you think?”

  “What?”

  “Of my wound?”

  “It was a gunshot.” She glared at him. “I took out the bullet and cleaned it. Wrapped it up.”

  Wow. All that? How long had he been out? He shifted and a sharp pain lanced him. In the ass. “Am I going to die, Doc?”

  She blew out a breath. “Someday…but not today. Now, pull up your pants.”

  Gingerly, he lifted one cheek and then the other. Another pang. “Shit!”

  “Hush,” she hissed.

  “Sorry.” He worked up his pants and fastened them. “Didn’t think a tough broad like you would get all huffy over an itty-bitty curse word. You’re worse than my mom.”

  “I could give a rat’s ass if you cuss. Just try to keep it quiet. There are pirates crawling all over these woods.”

  He shot her a glance. “All over these woods?”

  “A bunch ran by just before you woke up.”

  “They did?”

  “Why did you think I was lying on you?”

  “Um, because you like me?”

  She growled. Yeah. Growled. “They would have seen you.”

  “They would have seen me? So you laid on top of me? Did that make me invisible?”

  “Holy God. You’re annoying.” A muscle worked in her cheek. As though she were gritting her teeth. Or something. “Your skin is lily white. Might as well have a neon sign flashing ‘Shoot this guy.’”

  Damn it all, she was right. She’d saved his life and he was giving her shit. He swallowed his remorse—it was an easy swallow, because he liked needling her. “Well, thanks.” He waved his hand in the vague vicinity of his wound. “You probably saved my ass and I apprecia—”

  “No probably about it, Roger Ramjet.”

  “That’s kind of an air force slur.”

  “I. Don’t. Care. I did save your ass.” She snorted something that sounded like a laugh…and not a very nice one.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I saved your ass. Get it? They shot you in the ass.”

  “They shot me in the leg.”

  “Looked like the ass to me.”

  “It was the leg.”

  She smiled sweetly. “I’m a nurse. I can tell the difference.”

  He frowned at her. “Well, whatever. Thank you. Now, we’d better get going or we’ll miss the chopper. How long was I out?”

  “About ten minutes.”

  “Good. There’s still time to…”

  Fuck. The dull thud of chopper blades echoed off the marine layer. Drake stared out at the clouds and saw the dark shadow approaching. He knew they’d gone less than half the distance to the LZ. They could try to sprint, but with his leg, they’d never make it.

  Crap.

  To make matters worse, the pirates she’d warned him about saw the chopper and ran onto the beach yelling and shooting at the sky.

  Idiots.

  At least they were so focused on shooting at a bird that was out of range, they didn’t notice the light from the glow stick. He quickly covered it and they were once again wrapped in darkness.

  “Well,” she gusted as the cries and retorts wafted into the distance. “What now, Mr. Wizard?”

  Drake didn’t respond. He was too annoyed with himself to answer.

  Because he’d fucked his end of the mission up.

  His first chance to prove himself to his team, and he’d blown it.

  And he’d been shot in the ass.

  The guys would never let him live this down.

  Chapter Three

  They had to find shelter. Get some sleep. Her patient needed it, if not herself. And it was pretty clear he couldn’t travel very far. At least, not right now. Brandy picked up the glow stick and pushed to her feet.

  The SEAL’s eyes widened. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “I’ll be right back. I’m going to scout around for a safer place.”

  He gaped at her. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  Really? Did he need to squeak like that? “What’s the matter? Are you one of those asswipes who think girls can’t do anything?”

  His lips worked. “I’m not an asswipe.”

  She arched a dubious brow.

  “I’m supposed to be rescuing you. Not the other way around.”

  “You can barely walk.” Ah shit. She shouldn’t have said anything…because now he tried to struggle to his feet. She pushed him back down. Again, she shouldn’t have, because he landed on a tender spot and yowled. Yowled. “Be. Quiet,” she hissed. “I’ll be right back. I’m not going far.” She took off before he could complain some more, moving swiftly, stealthily, scoping out the surrounding area.

  Most of the island was little more than scrub and rocks, though there were trees blanketing the coastline. Trees were nice, but they needed more cover than that. She found what she was looking for about a quarter mile down the beach and slightly inland. An escarpment of rocks with a small cave beneath it where the rainwater had washed away the sand. With a couple of bushes obscuring the entrance, they would not be seen from the beach.

  It wasn’t perfect, but it was a heck of a lot better than being out in the open…or lying on top of him.

  Shivers rippled over her skin at the memory of his hardness, his warmth and, yes, the image of his cock. She wished she’d never seen it, but some things could not be unseen.

  As she made her way back to him, she found her thoughts returning to that vision, over and over. Which was ridiculous.

  Oh sure, he was a mega-hottie. Everything about him was attractive, from the shape of his fuzz-covered head to the alluring V of his hips…pointing straight toward his thick, long—

  Shit.

  He was hurt. He was her patient. And until they were rescued, they were stuck with each other.

  Aside from that, he was kind of a jerk. A brash, bold buckaroo. A navy guy. Just like Charlie.

  Charlie, who had wooed her and seduced her and taken her innocence. Oh, her virginity for sure, but a greater innocence as well. Because Charlie hadn’t been interested in her. Not really. Charlie had been interested in her father. In advancing his own career.

  He’d figured having a relationship with the commander’
s daughter would benefit him.

  Ass.

  Yeah, her dad had been a highly ranked naval commander, but Brandy hadn’t even spoken to him since she was twelve. Since the divorce. Since he’d left them.

  She’d discovered Charlie’s perfidy by accident, overheard his smug conversation with a friend. His betrayal had devastated her young heart. She reminded herself wounds like that only make you stronger, tougher. Aside from that, it had opened her eyes to the true nature of men. Military men at the very least.

  Now she had a thick skin. Now she wore armor. Now she knew better.

  She’d had boyfriends. She’d had lots of them. They just didn’t wear uniforms.

  When she returned to their hiding place she gave a warning whistle, which was smart of her, because the SEAL was on his belly pointing his weapon into the woods. Every muscle vibrated as though he was on high alert. If she hadn’t signaled to him, he might have shot her. His head whipped around when he heard her. His wide eyes were like white beacons in the darkness of his camo-smeared face.

  He said nothing but waved her down. She hid the glow stick and fell to her knees, holding her breath as yet another patrol passed by. It was pretty clear their current position was along a path the pirates used to go between camps, and as such was unsafe.

  When the woods were silent again she turned to her erstwhile rescuer. “I found a spot where we can hide,” she whispered. “We should go now, before more of them come by.”

  He nodded. “How far?”

  “Quarter mile. Can you make it?”

  His chin firmed. “I have to.”

  “We’ll go slowly.” But they didn’t. She helped him to his feet and headed out. He moved quicker than she’d expected he could, but he winced with nearly every step. She knew, when they reached their shelter, she was going to have to recheck his wound for bleeding.

  They skirted the tree line as they made their way down the beach. He only stumbled a few times, and each time she caught him, but damn, he was heavy. Once they had to crouch in the brush as more calls from the pirates echoed in the night. It was as though the SEAL incursion had stirred up a hornet’s nest. Pirates were everywhere.

  It seemed to take forever to make it to the outcropping, but it was probably only twenty minutes or so. Time took on a new dimension when your heart was racing.