Page 39 of Boomer (SEAL Team Tier 1, #7)

Inhaling unevenly, Boomer leaned his full weight against the wall, drawing her deeper into his embrace, his touch meant to comfort as he massaged the base of her spine.

Pressing his head closer, Taylor turned her face against the curve of his neck, a wave of regret washing through her.

He had given her so much but had taken nothing for himself.

“That sucked,” she whispered.

He smoothed his hand up her back, resting his jaw against her temple. There was a hint of amusement in his voice when he answered. “I’ll have to work harder next time. Maybe I can do it better with my mouth and tongue.”

She groaned, long and low. Men were so deliciously filthy. “I don’t think I would survive anything better,” she hissed softly with affection. “I was talking about this one-sided thing.”

He stared at her for a moment, then became intent on her mouth as he ran his thumb along her lower lip. “We will get this together,” he said, his tone gruff. “Hopefully it won’t involve a court-martial for disobeying orders, because I wanted to tell Ice to go fuck himself.”

She laughed softly, taking his face between her hands, and stretching up and kissing him softly on the mouth, her breath catching as he pulled her hips closer and took control of the kiss. It was long and lingering and oh, so sweet with an undercurrent of tense male arousal.

Releasing his breath in a long, shaky sigh, he bent down and snatched her underwear off the floor, offering them to her. She took them, slipped them on. “Let me change really quick.”

Thirty minutes later, back at the compound, and if looks could kill, Iceman would be dead. In fact, the whole damn brass included. They were taking Boomer away from her again.

Taylor’s fingers tightened around her tablet.

She couldn’t look at Boomer. She would lose it right here in the hall before he had to go on a side mission without her, all these watchful eyes.

But drawn against her will, she slid her gaze to him, remembering everything he’d said, remembering everything he’d done.

In that moment, looking at the man she hadn’t dared dream could fit this deeply into the cracks of her life, all she could think was…

Gott help me. I’m falling in love with him.

She hadn’t expected this. Not from him. Not from the man who knocked down doors and turned steel to rubble. But he’d offered something more devastating than firepower.

Respect. Insight. Grace. Himself, and she wanted that most of all.

Anna showed up and slipped inside the room, closing the door. She had nothing she could do but wait for him to come back. She might die of estrogen overdose.

The op was clean, mostly. But Boomer was not.

He was half a beat slow on a breach. Missed a hand signal from Preacher. Didn’t respond to Breakneck’s flanking call until the second repeat. Nothing catastrophic, just enough to earn a look from Iceman mid-sweep that could’ve cracked a steel plate.

When the dust settled and the team regrouped near the evac point, Iceman stalked over. Everyone else cleared the hell out of the way.

Boomer barely had time to unbuckle his vest before Ice had a fistful of it. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Boomer snapped. “I’m trying to hook up with Taylor, and we’ve missed every damn time. I have a fucking dick ache that won’t die, I haven’t slept, and I’m walking around Lisbon with a loaded weapon and no safety. I know I was off. I’m sorry.” The words echoed, raw and furious.

Iceman’s pale eyes narrowed, then…softened. He let go of Boomer’s vest.

A long beat passed.

Then he said flatly, “When you get back there, I’m officially removing the cock block. Get it done. Get your head back in the game. You got that?”

He barked out a stunned laugh. “Are you ordering me to have sex with her?”

Iceman didn’t blink. “Goddamned right I am.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “Is that…an actual directive?”

Iceman sniffed and said, deadpan, “I had blue balls for a year. Try that on for size, you lightweight.” Boomer stared at him, mouth slightly open.

Iceman crossed his arms. “ A year, Finley. You start hallucinating affection. Clouds get suggestive. Buttered toast makes your hands sweat.” Boomer choked on his own breath.

Iceman added, “One time I almost humped a goddamn couch cushion.” He paused.

“It was shaped like a rose. ’Nuff said.”

Boomer lost it. Bent over at the waist, gasping. “What the actual fuck.”

“Don’t judge me,” Iceman said, as serious as a funeral. “I survived. Barely.”

Boomer wiped his face, still laughing. “You’re insane.”

“Go fix it before someone gets hurt. Namely your dick.”

Boomer, still doubled over, said, “Jesus Christ?—”

“I wasn’t proud,” Ice added calmly. “But I survived. Don’t be me. Go home. Get naked. Get tactical.”

Boomer wiped his face with both hands, breath shaking from how hard he was laughing.

“Fuck me,” he said, grinning, “you’re gonna put this in my eval, aren’t you?”

“Only if you fail the follow-through.”

Boomer was still reeling from Iceman’s deadpan revelation when Preacher stepped in, arms crossed, expression grave.

“I took a celibacy oath during my dick ache with Luna.” He nodded slowly, like he’d lived through combat and worse.

“Same shit. Different woman. Blue balls? Brother, I baptized mine in silence.”

GQ ran his hand through that perfect hair with both hands. “Celeste had me so twisted, my sheets got me off.” He held up one finger. “I washed them. Twice.” He shrugged. “Didn’t help.”

Kodiak leaned against the rail of the ship. “Kaiya was pissed at me the entire first week of the op.” He laughed, low and feral. “Then she couldn’t stop looking at me like I was prey. I thought I was going to burst into flames during debrief.”

Hazard shouldered GQ aside. “You all saw the train wreck with Leigh.” He dragged a hand down his face.

“Had to bodyguard her. Then again. Then we shared a room with a connecting door while we argued like fire and water, and she wore those little silk shorts.” He stared off into the void. “Even the arguing turned me on.”

Skull swiped his hand over Bones. “Walker was everywhere. We had to share a bathroom.” He shook his head like he still had flashbacks. “She was enterprising. Relentless. ”

He paused. “Just about killed me. I thought I was going to pass out from blood loss. Not from injury. From boners.”

Boomer looked at them. One by one. The Brotherhood of the Miserably Blue-Balled.

Then from the corner, Breakneck, calm and composed, offered flatly, “I have no sympathy for any of you.” He looked toward the incoming chopper, deadpan. “I’m young. Hot. Emotionally grounded and not getting laid either. Welcome to hell.”

“I guess I’m in good company, then.”

Iceman muttered, “Goddamn circus of repressed dickheads.”

Twenty minutes later, Boomer stepped off the bird, fingers still buzzing with residual adrenaline and frustration.

The mission had gone sideways just long enough to delay their exfil, and all he could think about was Taylor. Her voice, her body, her heat. The way she’d looked at him when they were torn apart. That was now changed. He had orders, and permission .

He pulled out his phone, tapped out a message without thinking. Fingers flying. Desire, unchecked.

Boomer ? Sugar: Darlin’, I’m coming back, and I’ve been given the green light. Had a whole Cockblock Chronicles with the guys. They understand and are ready to run interference. I can’t wait to get inside you. I have ways of making you come that will blow your mind and your body.

He hit send and blinked. Wait. Wait . No… no …no. The recipient wasn’t Taylor. It was the Team Group Chat. It wasn’t long before his phone blew up.

Breakneck: I’m emotionally damaged.

GQ: Well Damn, Southern Fried. You want me to light candles or just hold the camera?

Skull: Too late. I screenshotted it. It's going in the mission archive. Operation Penetration: Greenlit.

Hazard: If I ever die in a breach, I want to come back as this man’s libido.

Kodiak: …I'm never using the phrase "run interference" again.

Preacher: Just baptized my phone in holy water.

Iceman (minutes later): Hope you’re texting her from a secure line, Finley. I’m too tired for paperwork.

Boomer stared at the screen in mute horror. His soul left his body. Then another notification buzzed.

Sugar ? Boomer: Oh, sugar...I read the whole thing. I hope you’re as good at cleanup as you are at teasing. When you get here? I’m going to wreck you.

Boomer groaned, dragging his hand down his face as the team exploded into laughing emojis, eggplants, and godawful gifs.

Breakneck: Chapter 11: “The Accidental Broadcast.” Subtitled: Everyone Has a Boner Now.

Sugar ? Team Chat: Correction:I'm at MAOC. Still dealing with this fucking interdiction shit. So now, in addition to being emotionally compromised and thoroughly dicked down *in theory only*...I'm being vagina-blocked by my goddamned boss.

Sugar ? Breakneck: Breakneck, can you find high ground and take him out?

Breakneck ? Sugar: Already drawing wind calls. Do you want a clean drop or a message-sending shot to the kneecap?

GQ : Is it bad that I kinda want Taylor on our squad full time?

Skull : It’s bad. But understandable.

Preacher : I feel like I should pray for all of us. But I’m laughing too hard.

Hazard : This whole thread is going to be used in court someday.

Iceman: Breakneck, if you drop a senior MAOC official, please ensure there’s no civilian collateral. Also, save the paperwork for me.

Boomer got off the group chat and this time texted her privately.

Boomer ? Sugar: Darlin’, you say the word and I’ll breach the front doors of MAOC with a vow of silence. You think I’m kidding.

Sugar ? Boomer: You better not be. I’m about two pages from a hostile takeover of NATO just to get inside your pants.

Boomer ? Sugar: I’m back at the compound. Hurry it along.

Sugar ? Boomer: As fast as I can. This is an aggressive and comprehensive plan.