Page 59 of The Playboy SEAL
There it is. She wants what I want. Something I can’t accomplish.
“I wish I could take you with me, Teala. The president is drafting orders as we speak. Martial law will go into effect shortly.” I explain the basics. About how typically there will be a curfew and checkpoints on roads. No one will be allowed out at dark, and our military will take over completely. It’s scary for civilians. Congress has never declared martial law. My mind whirs in a million different directions as I sort the information.
I help her out of the car and into the house. Her mother gives her a tearful hello, hugs me, and disappears out of Teala’s room to leave us alone. My phone rings three times while I’m in the house. Each time it’s someonetelling me more bad news. I try to keep my composure for Teala’s benefit. It’s business as usual. I repeat that several times. I close the door behind us.
Teala is pacing back and forth in between her bed and the window covered in white, gauzy curtains. It’s her childhood bedroom, and it looks as if it’s untouched by all the years in between eighteen and now.
“Look at me,” I say, my voice thick.
She stops pacing and spins on her heel. “How is this real life?” she asks. “I’m practical. I’m going to do the things you told me. I’ll be okay. I will. That doesn’t mean I can’t wonder what in the ever-loving fuck happened, Macs. I think God is punishing the world because I’m happy. Why am I happy right now despite the amount of death?” She waves her arm to the window. “Don’t leave me here, Macs. Please.”
I swallow hard.
“God has nothing to do with this,” I say. “Bad guys do. Ones that I have to take care of. If I don’t, who will?”
“Someone else can. It’s selfish and rude, and I feel like a heathen even requesting it, but I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t ask. Do you understand? I want you to be with me,” Teala says. “Don’t leave me. Not like this.”
Tears are pouring down her face, and I’m more uncomfortable in this social setting than I have been in a really long time. Explaining won’t do any good when her emotions are so heightened. She wouldn’t understand, and I can’t fault her for that.
“I’m scared, Macs. Don’t leave me.”
I cross to her and take her in my arms. “You’re going to be okay,” I lie.
How can anything possibly be okay after this? Nothing will ever be the same. Catastrophes change people, which in turn shape the world. Instead of spinning in a nice round circle, it might hiccup here and there. It doesn’t go away. It’s a forever change.
“You’ll be safe here,” I amend.
I breathe in her hair. I kiss her neck, her collarbone, and the place where her ear meets her cheek. The truth is when I leave here, I have no idea when I’ll be back. If ever. I love my country. I agreed to die for it. If I only get to feel this for the short time we’ve had, I’ll die a happy man. She leans back to peer into my eyes—my soul.
Teala’s stopped crying, but her face is wet, and I lose my breath. Her tears are for me, and that changes everything. She strips her tank over her head and steps out of her tight pants. I wasn’t planning on having sex with her, but she’s so sad and it might be the last time, so I don’t fault myself for the delay. She hits her knees and unfastens my belt and unzips my pants.
“I’ve always wanted to fuck a man in uniform,” Teala says.
She’s hiding from the truth, and I won’t deny her. Hell, I wouldn’t deny her anything I could feasibly give her. It doesn’t scare me anymore.
“And I just want you. Always, only you,” I reply, cradling the sides of her face. She slides my boxer briefs down to my ankles and pushes me to awkwardly walk backward until the back of my legs hits the bed.
Teala crawls up me, her naked body a swath of warm, delicious skin, and I make a point of erasing my mind of everything but her.
It surprises me how easy it is. She is peeling off my skin, separating muscle, coiling around the untouched places reserved for darkness and depravity. Her light is inside me.
That makes her mine.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Teala
This is the last time.Women can sense these things. Call it intuition, if you will. When I slept with men before, the sex always had a non-permanent quality. I could feel it all over my body. It’s harried and vicious hands because tomorrow doesn’t matter. Two hours into the future doesn’t even matter, because I’d be left alone wondering what the hell was wrong with me and the things I desired.
Macs brings me back into the moment.
“Teala. Focus on me,” he says, his hands on the sides of my stomach, caressing softly. He tossed his camo jacket off, but he still has on a white T-shirt, his pants are around his ankles, and his boots, with his feet inside, are on the floor. If anything signals a man leaving, it’s when we have to fuck with our clothes on like we’re in high school.
“I’m here,” I whisper.
I’m straddling his hips. He’s hard and waiting, and I want it to last forever. Maybe if I can live in this moment for as long as possible, everything else will vanish.Leaning over, I place my lips on his. The salty taste of my tears mixes in our kiss, and I can’t help but cry a little at the bittersweet reminder. Macs shushes me and rubs my back, and I think maybe I can’t have sex with him. The part of Teala who only wants sex and fucking and orgasms isn’t anywhere to be found right now.
“I’m going to miss you so much,” I whisper.
