Rogue Page 15
“Yeah?” He washed his hands and dried them on a dishcloth before crossing to her, easing his hands under her lush curls, then kissing her, drinking her in, loving her with every breath of his being.
She’d slept in one of the white button-downs Harding forced him to wear when he met clients at Trident, Inc.’s new Jacksonville office. He hated those shirts, but loved seeing them on his sexy wife.
Even better? He loved taking them off of her. One by one, he unfastened buttons, kissing a trail along the way. He pressed his lips to her collarbone, to each breast, to her abdomen, and then lower to the sweet spot between her legs. He urged her legs open and flattened his hand against her chest, nudging her back against the upper cabinet.
He found her clit, laving it with his tongue until she cried out and pulled his hair. Since they were already trying to give Joe a baby brother or sister, Nash didn’t bother with a condom, but eased inside while tugging her nearer the counter’s edge.
She wrapped her arms around him, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his neck. “I love you . . . I love you . . . I love you.”
“I love you,” he said on the heels of a moan. “I love you so damned much. Think our mothers would frown if when we all say what we’re thankful for, I admit that I’m damned thankful for my wife’s sexy—”
The house phone rang.
“Talk about being saved by the bell. First—who would be calling this early on Thanksgiving? Second—no, you can’t say anything about our sex lives at the dinner table. Third—don’t you dare stop until . . . Yes, yes . . .”
The ringing quit long enough for Nash to spill his seed deep inside her, then indulge in a nice, long make-out session before it started up again. “Want me to get it? Or should we go straight for another round?”
“You should probably at least see who it is.” She shrugged the open halves of his shirt back over her shoulders. “It might be one of our moms.”
He sighed, then picked up the phone. “Jasper. What the hell, man? I haven’t even found the coffee, let alone made a cup.”
“Sorry, man. I’m calling everyone. Remember that girl I met? Eden?”
“Yeah.” Nash scratched his head. “Thought she was in Iceland.”
“Antarctica.”
“Same difference—sort of.”
“Stop screwing around, she’s in trouble.”
“What’s up?” Nash’s stomach tensed with adrenaline. He hadn’t been a key member of any protection team since getting out of the hospital. As much as he loved playing homemaker, he was itching to get back to action—even if that meant working the home office while part of the team was gone.
“Mind if we all meet at your place in an hour? She left a cryptic message I want all of you to hear.”
“Sure. Head over. Maisey won’t mind.”
She raised her eyebrows and frowned. “If this is about football . . .”
Nash shook his head, then ended the call.
“Everything okay?”
After one more lingering kiss, he said, “We’re about to find out.”
Dear Reader—
I can’t thank you enough for spending time with Nash and Maisey. All of my characters are dear to me, but these two sometimes made me cry, scream, laugh or all of the above! LOL! If you enjoyed their story, pretty please with-a-cherry-on-top leave a review.
The next book in my SEAL Team: Disavowed series, OUTCAST, features Eden and Jasper. These two damaged souls have some awfully big secrets that play out in the midst of a deadly, Antarctic-based treasure hunt that I hope you’ll devour! I’ve included the first chapter for a sneak peek . . .
Happy Reading—Laura Marie
SEAL Team: Disavowed series
Rogue, Book 1
Outcast, Book 2
Shunned, Book 3
Exiled, Book 4
Renegade, Book 5
Forsaken, Book 6
Scorned, Book 7
OUTCAST
SEAL Team: Disavowed Book 2
Laura Marie Altom
1
“THEY’RE ALL DEAD . . .” English lit professor, Eden Marabella, dropped the satellite phone she’d been speaking into. It shattered against the rocks at her feet, but shock at the sight before her made the loss of their team’s primary outside communication tool a non-issue.
Her throat closed with emotion, and her eyes stung.
The more of the grisly scene she digested, the more her stomach roiled.
She retched at the sheer amount of blood spilled across the ice. It had frozen in pools beneath the majestic creatures, standing in stark contrast to the Orcas’ beautiful black and white markings.
Her father’s associate, Dane Northrup, a marine biologist from Stony Brook University in New York, slipped his arm around her shoulders, comforting her through her latest round of nausea. “Deep breaths,” he coached. “Ride it out.”
“W-what happened?” she asked, her voice shallow and dazed. “It looks like an entire pod.” Dozens upon dozens of the killer whales had washed upon the snow and ice-crusted shore of their stretch of Antarctica’s Ross Sea. Her father, a marine biology professor from the University of Tampa had been coming here for years. He and his students had raised millions for conservation and research, and now had a private station manned year-round with students and professors pursuing independent studies.
Her poor father silently moved among the beached creatures as if under a dark spell. His shoulders slumped. Silent tears glistened on his ruddy cheeks in the bright November sun. The day was a rare jewel with the temperature almost above freezing and the horizon clear. Tragedy didn’t happen on afternoons like this, so why were they facing so much death now?
Early that morning, Eden and her dad had caught a ride with friends stationed at McMurdo. Dane followed with two students who’d opted to stay in their rooms to get settled.
The walk to the beach had become an annual tradition for Eden and her father. One typically highlighted by visiting an Adélie penguin colony on the rocky point. In the shock over the orcas, she’d forgotten them. She was now afraid to glance in that direction.
“Dane,” she turned to him, selfishly wishing he were Jasper, the sweetheart she’d been dating back in Denver. She’d been on the sat phone leaving a heartfelt message for him, trying to explain the impossible as to why she’d broken things off, when she’d crested the last rise on the shore trail to witness the carnage-filled view. “Could you please check the penguins? I can’t . . .”
“Eden, I’m sorry, but—”
“How did this happen?” Her sob cut off his words. The instant she’d heard his apology, she’d made the mistake of looking for herself.
The penguins were dead, too.
Dane grasped her upper arms to keep her from collapsing onto her knees. “I promise we’ll get to the bottom of this. I won’t rest till we have an answer to why.”
She nodded.
When he wrapped his arms around her for a hug, it only reminded her how much she missed Jasper. Until now, she hadn’t realized how great a role he’d played in her life—not that it mattered.
She’d never see him again.
She wasn’t even sure why she’d called, other than that she loved this place more than any other in the world. On what would no doubt be her last visit, she’d wanted to share it with him.
That said, at the moment, the man who needed her most was her grief-stricken father who wept over the still penguin chick he cradled in his palms.
Eden had set out in his direction when the ground began to shake . . .
About the Author
Laura Marie Altom is the author of fifty novels. Her award-winning work has appeared on numerous bestseller lists and worldwide, she has over a million books in print. Laura lives in Tulsa, Oklahoma with her husband of twenty-five years. This former teacher has been blessed with boy/girl twins and a menagerie of dogs and cats. For fun, Laura’s content to garden, thrift-shop or curl up with a great book.
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Copyright © January 2016 by Laura Marie Altom
Smashwords Edition
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.
All characters and incidents within this book are fiction, and works of the author’s imagination.