Joker (SEAL Team Alpha Book 18) by Zoe Dawson

Author:Zoe Dawson [Dawson, Zoe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Blue Moon Creative
Published: 2022-08-27T18:30:00+00:00

When Pippa jerked awake the apartment was dark except for the faint light from the bathroom nightlight. She always brought one to unfamiliar places so she wouldn’t panic at night. Some of the residual fear was left over from her days on the streets and having to constantly protect herself in an unsafe and unpredictable environment.

The bed was empty and for a second, she thought Joker might have gotten dressed and left. SEALs were a different breed, tough, tenacious, a capacity for violence, but with the utmost need and duty to protect others. Each of them was incredibly special, and together as a team, a brotherhood, they had the capacity for sacrifice and courage.

And to beat themselves up when they perceived failure.

How could she not melt for a man like that, even with all her own insecurities, doubts, and fears?

She slipped out of bed and found him in the bathroom. He was hanging onto the sink, his eyes closed, almost in the same pose as when she’d seen him at the hospital. His arms straight, his muscles in relief.

And her reaction was the same. She wanted to give him solace, a place to just rest.

In the faint light, she could tell that he was exhausted, both mentally and physically. Her vision blurring, Pippa stepped closer to him, something painful happening to her heart when she realized how badly he was trembling. She slid her arms around his waist, pressing herself against his back. He exhaled sharply at her touch. “Come on, Elias,” she whispered unevenly. “I’ve got you.”

For a moment she thought he wasn’t going to cooperate, then he exhaled unsteadily and straightened. Once in the bedroom, he stopped and turned. He was a big, warm, dark shadow thick with muscle, covered in velvet skin. She nearly lost it when his arms went around her and he held onto her like he needed her. She locked her jaw against the raw emotion that washed through her. The memory of her trying with all her might to help her mom, who rejected her at every level, generated a deep, relentless pain that had never seemed to go away.

Until now.

He let her go, pulling off his shorts. “No clothes. Nothing between us,” he murmured, then stretched out on his back, his arm over his eyes, the muscles of his jaw rigid.

“Okay, give me a minute,” she said.

He was still like that when she came back from the bathroom, and he never moved when she stripped off her tank top and shorts and when she slid into bed beside him. Realizing he was still in some kind of mental loop, she slid her arm under his neck and gently drew his arm away from his eyes. “I’ve still got you,” she whispered.

He didn’t respond for an instant, then he exhaled sharply and turned into her arms. Closing her eyes against an unbearable surge of feeling for him, she cradled his head against her breast and pressed her mouth to the top of his head.

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