SEAL My Home: Bad Boys of SEAL Team 3, Book 2 (SEAL Brotherhood Series 9) Read Online Free PDF

he yanked his arms back so hard it popped his shoulder and hurt.
    Now Rory whirled around and faced Fredo.
    Fredo was ready for him, but retreating a safe distance. “Really? You want a piece of me, you fuckin’ asshole? What happened, Miss Hot Pants make you soft?”
    Rory bolted toward Fredo, his hands out in front of him to reach for his neck, but Fredo was quicker, running backward and egging him on until they were outside in the courtyard filled with low glowing fire pits populated with couples having a romantic evening out in the San Diego air. T.J. and Tyler formed an effective shield from the Navy regulars, who accordioned at the doorway, swearing and trying to look dangerous.
    Fredo flew over the low stucco wall of the patio and onto the sidewalk of the Strand. He stood with his hands on his hips and shouted back at Rory before he could follow him there. “You fuckin’ lay a hand on me and you’re done. Completely done, asshole.”
    Given the thirty seconds of fresh air and a slight distance from the angry faces in the bar, Rory found himself calming down.
    T.J. put his arm around Rory’s shoulder. “First, we get you drunk and then we get you laid.”
    “Already laid.”
    T.J.’s low rumble kind of cheered him up. “So that’s your problem, you frog.”
    “Fuck’s not my problem.”
    “If you say so.” T.J. sighed and punched Rory in the upper arm. “Well then, let’s get you drunk. You’re coming home with me.”
    From across the patio, Fredo glared back at him, and then turned, shaking his head from side to side and headed down the sidewalk, disappearing into the night.
    The new guy hung back with Tyler.
    “You’re a hothead, Rory. That can cost you. Big time.” T.J. yanked on his shoulder, rattling his brain. Rory tried to get away, but T.J. wasn’t having any of it. He wrapped his massive arms around Rory, almost getting him in a neck lock. “What’s so damned important it’s worth giving up your career?”
    “I’m not thinking of giving up my career.”
    “You pop Fredo, he’ll make sure you do. You don’t mess with him.”
    “Tell him he should watch his fuckin’ mouth then.”
    T.J. whipped around and faced Rory. Cocking his head, his best friend clicked his tongue and squinted. “I’ll let you tell him when you apologize tomorrow.”
    Rory stepped back so he was out of T.J.’s extensive arm reach. He felt like he was shitty company, getting shittier by the moment. He knew a lot about black moods from some of the guys who came back just a little too much on the edge. He wondered if perhaps he wasn’t having some kind of delayed reaction. Maybe this wasn’t about Megan after all. Hell yes, this isn’t about Megan at all.
    He’d set out to do one thing: hook up with her. He’d planned it, carried out the mission in his mind, followed the steps he’d devised and executed flawlessly. He’d even enjoyed it. So what the fuck was happening to him?

Chapter 5
    ‡
    M egan used her yoga class as a distraction the next morning. She didn’t look around the room to see if Rory managed to brave seeing her again, and she accepted it as the first step to moving on. Last night had seemed so real, so perfect, and not anything she should be craving now as she twisted her body into difficult positions, stretching out the kinks in her neck, elongating the muscles of her thighs and calves.
    It was a Bikram, or heated class, and she was drenched from forehead to toes in a matter of minutes. Her breathing was labored. She used the anonymity of her own perspiration to allow the hot tears to flow down her cheeks. The cathartic purging of something deep inside her felt like a painful birth. It left her weak afterwards, yet grateful it might help her toughen up quicker.
    Time would heal everything, she knew. Day one was the worst. Then day two, and then day three. After that, she could relax and let in those random thoughts of the feel of his mouth on hers, on her sex, the deep guttural moans