Nashville SEAL: Jameson: Nashville SEALs (5 page)

His thoughts nearly made him miss the turnoff for the Inn.

“Fuck me, hold on, Lizzie,” he said as he hard-righted the Hummer, nearly losing control on the crushed granite shoulder that led to the courtyard outside the reception area beyond. Sounds of the highway were strong, but he heard water running all around which muted the noise. The stucco exterior was covered in green vines that snaked randomly to the roof overhang. The red tips and new growth added color and made the outside look like some ancient French provincial village, not an inn in the Wine Country. They walked up the few shallow steps into an inviting lobby area lit with pleasant clean-scented candles.

The room was divided into two sections, both fed by an enormous fireplace, roaring and sending shadows upon memorabilia: swords, African spears and crests, maps, artifacts, shelves of pottery and cases housing old texts, journals and faded photographs. On one wall was a painted map tracing Northern California highways and the Silverado Trail, as well as trails long traveled by early explorers, identifying native peoples of the area and noting important events. A route was painted from San Francisco Bay north, through Sonoma Valley up through the gold country where the ’49er gold rush was located. It was the story of a 19
^th
century explorer and his experiences traveling through the region.

“Welcome to the Waterwheel Inn,” the bright young man with a bow tie greeted them.

Lizzie and Jameson were engrossed with thoroughly enjoying the ambience and history of the entire foyer.

“You checking in?”

“Yes.” Jameson gave the clerk his paper reservation.

“Daniels. Ah yes, upgraded you to the Grande Romance Suite, compliments of some of your friends and the house.”

Lizzie turned around, hoisting her dress as she wafted over next to Jameson. The clerk noticed her state of fluster, raising his eyebrows but keeping his eyes on Jameson after that.

“We have a suite?” Lizzie asked, forcing the clerk to focus on her again nervously.

“Yes, ma’am. A nice one. Across the highway is the famous Old Sonoma Winery vineyards you’ll see at sunrise tomorrow. It also overlooks the pool, and the waterwheel is around the corner with the spa inside the wheelhouse. We shut the wheel off at midnight so you can get some…” he looked at the two of them again and blushed, “rest.” He cleared his throat. “We can leave the waterwheel on all night, if you prefer. Whoever stays in this special suite, which is not connected to any other part of the hotel, has the say on the water features.”

Jameson could see the clerk was trying to concentrate on the details without sounding too stiff and proper, but was failing miserably. He liked that. It brought a smile to his lips. He leaned against the counter, placed two fingers under Lizzie’s chin, leaned forward for a wet lingering kiss, and then said, “I think leaving the waterwheel on all night might be a good thing, don’t you?”

Lizzie was blushing now. Her fluttering eyelids told him she’d gone somewhere else with the kiss. He loved that one tiny touch from him would stir such emotion inside her. “Yes,” she said through her beautiful rosy blush.

The clerk cleared his throat again, hiding a smile by covering his nose and mouth with his palm. “Very well. Your wish is our pleasure.”

That was a perfect word, Jameson thought.

After check-in, they were given directions with a map to their suite. Heavy curtains covered a private patio with padded lounge furniture at the top of brown tiled steps leading upstairs to their suite. Jameson inserted his key and opened the heavy wooden door with a creak, revealing a grand bedroom suite with another larger fireplace fully ablaze, across from the foot of the king-sized bed. The light yellow walls were framed in dark hand-hewn wood and punctuated by deep windows with wrought iron hardware. A big bouquet of red roses stood at one of the pair of tables adjacent the bed, and their fragrance infused the space.

Lizzie ran to the bathroom and squealed to find the two-person shower and double soaking jetted tub. “I could live here.”

“Well, for the next two days, you can. After that, well, we gotta sell Nick’s truck to pay for it.” Jameson was enthralled seeing how excited she was.

“You arranged all of this?” she said to him, approaching, her eyes wide, her hand sweeping over the entire room, stopping at the ice bucket stuffed with a champagne bottle. “I’ve never stayed in anything so nice.”

“Sweetheart, I’d spend the next two days in the bunkhouse at Nick and Devon’s as long as it was with you, but if you like it, I’m happy.”

She threw her arms around his neck. “No bunkhouse, Jameson. I want you in that bed, after we take a bath and have some champagne.”

‡

T
he champagne was
sweet and the bubbles tweaked her nose. The warm bubbles and steamy drips from the faucet were relaxing. She leaned back against Jameson’s chest, his familiar man-scent competing with the lavender-vanilla bath salts to make a heady mixture. The glow outside made it seem like they had a fireplace in the stone and granite bathroom suite that was bigger than her dorm in college. The two windows framed a bright view of turning green vineyard leaves and bright rosy sky that would descend into a Maxwell Parish-esque painting.

Lizzie felt fortunate she’d grown up on her parent’s horse farm in North Carolina—a place of bucolic beauty in an unhurried place and time. Her mother had loved her horses, and her father accommodated her every dream as best he could. When they passed, working the farm alone and having to hire help, Lizzie didn’t find it was the relaxing, wonderful place she’d known before.

But this part of the country, Sonoma County, now this was a place she could live in forever. She even liked it better than San Diego. Even though the hills were brown, in wine country there were colorful patchwork vineyards against the bright blue clear sky. Life was laid back but filled with quality and fine things like eating well, bike riding and drinking wines overlooking vistas as beautiful as anything she’d ever seen. With several from Jameson’s Team considering their options for SEAL retirement, she wouldn’t mind it if Jameson also felt the calling to return here. Nick and Devon had paved the way, and now, one by one, Kyle’s old squad was turning in their body armor for wine glasses and work gloves. Zak and Amy were from here, and with them caretaking the vineyard the team was trying to negotiate, Lizzie figured she’d bone up on the wine industry. If she couldn’t get a teaching job, perhaps she’d take a job working a tasting room or doing wine sales while Jameson was on deployment.

She fell into a light sleep, the rise and fall of his chest lulling her to sleep.

What could be better? Lying in a tub with the man I love and only a night filled with love ahead of us? More champagne, an intimate dinner, perhaps naked by the fireplace? Some wonderful red claret or port and a nibble on cheese and fruit before turning in? I have truly died and gone to Heaven,
she thought as she drifted off.

She awoke when Jameson began pouring the warm scented water at her neck, while gently massaging the lavender scrub over her chest, careful to slowly wash every millimeter of her pink skin beneath his powerful hands. She raised her chin as his long fingers descended lower and found her nub, squeezing the petals of her sex, and then rimming her opening, coaxing in her the electric buzz down her spine that set everything pulsing. Just looking at him turned her on, but the feel of his nimble fingers and powerful low rumble in his chest when he liked something he was touching, was even better.

“I wish we could stay here forever, Jameson.”

“Mmm. Me too, my love.”

“Not just in this tub, but I like it here. I like San Diego, but nothing has touched me like North Carolina until I came here. This is truly heaven itself.”

“I know what you mean. We’d still have our southern roots, but I think I could manage it out here. Of course, I’d have to be something other than a soldier.”

“A winery owner?”

“You know, Devon has warned us about this. It’s touch and go for at least seven or eight years. Owning a winery looks better and more glamorous than it is in reality. Lots of work and lots of expenses for years until it starts to pay off.”

“Except you can’t buy one already set up, Jameson, or at least one you could afford. So, we’re young. All you guys are young. You already work hard now and don’t get paid nearly what you’re worth.”

He quickly washed off the scrub and then turned her face to kiss the side of her mouth. “I’m going to have to do something with those lips. You talk too much, sweetheart.”

She giggled, and she heard his low guttural groan. She could feel his erection pressing into the small of her back. She leaned forward, pivoted on her butt and faced him in the tub, placing her calves up over his shoulders.

“I talk too much? Really?”

“You do,” he said as he looked for and found her opening. He brought himself to crouching position. “I’m going to dive for buried treasure, my dear. Try not to scream or we’ll wake the people enjoying the pool below, okay?”

“Jameson!” But she couldn’t remember what else she was going to say because he’d dipped his whole head under water, his lips and tongue pressing and sucking her sex. She leaned back, raising her hips, and then bracing her body with her arms at the sides of the tub as he continued to plunder her.

“Now that’s my kind of diving,” he said when he came up for air. His brown hair hung partially over his forehead, shedding lavender bubble foam. She matched his body position, coming to her knees to face him.

“Seriously, Jameson,” she said as she rubbed the salt scrub on his chest, then lower until his body disappeared into the warm water. He was watching her eyes, not taking his focus from her expression, like drinking after a long drought.

“Seriously what? What is so serious?” He gave her that blue-eyed smile that tore her heart wide open. All she could think about was having him make love to her all night long. She returned his smile as his forehead pressed against hers. Her fingers found his huge erection under the water. “You seriously have to take care of that, Lizzie. I am in dire need here.”

She giggled and watched him close his eyes. “Why do you do that when I laugh?”

“Because, sweetheart, when you laugh like you do, I just get tingly all over, and all I want to do is ram myself inside you and stay there forever.”

She laughed again.

“Okay, that does it. I’m not going to take this any longer. He turned her to the wide side of the tub, bent her down and fondled her sex by traveling down her butt cheeks with his fingers. She widened her kneel, holding onto the side of the tub as he positioned his penis at her opening. “This,” he said as he plunged in to the hilt, making her gasp, “Is for even daring to think about anything but sex tonight. How dare you…” He began pumping furiously, angling to gain traction. She looked over her shoulder, seeing his position, and turning to give him better access. He gripped her hips. She slid her legs outside his, raising her tailbone and felt his powerful body pull her down against him, his arms wrapped around her waist and upper chest, his hot lips kissing up her neck and biting her ear lobe, which made her jump.

“I’ve never made love under water before,” she whispered, turning her head to note his expression from the corner of her eye. He was watching her backside, licking his lips as he watched himself push into her, lift her, feel her muscles that had now begun to clamp down on him.

“Honey, you’ve married a SEAL, and we do everything under water.” He grinned back at her and then was distracted as he began to come.

After several minutes, their rhythm slowed, and, still connected, he whispered, “I want to make another Charlotte. We talked about waiting. Honey, I want to make another baby with you.”

She’d been thinking the same thing. “Probably not going to happen until I get off the pill.”

“We’ll flush them down the toilet tonight. No protection. No barriers. I want to fill you with everything I’ve got.”

She continued her up and down movement as he pressed. “Jameson,” she said between breaths. His hands were roaming across her chest again, fingers pinching and hurting her nipples. “My turn, please.”

She could tell he needed no coaxing. He was already hard again and focused on the mission at hand. This time, he was totally focused on giving her pleasure.

She woke up
in bed and couldn’t remember how she got there. One arm was over her head laid in the soft down pillow, the other resting at her side. The sheets were tangled around her legs and had pulled back, leaving her chest bare, but the room wasn’t chilly. The sounds of Jameson’s guitar softly played from the dark corner across the room near the fireplace. His handsome face was illuminated by the glow from the fire. She saw his fingers work the steel strings of his acoustic guitar. The tune sounded new, and he struggled slightly with the cords, but perfected it, until it became an emotional melody that literally made her heart flutter.

She propped herself up with her elbows at her sides. She didn’t bother to cover up her breasts, and Jameson noticed right away, giving her an appreciative and tender smile. He stopped playing to address her.