Authors: Samantha Cole
Waiting for Him
Waiting For Him
Copyright (c) 2015 Samantha Cole
All Rights Reserved.
Waiting For Him
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Front Cover Designed by Samantha Cole
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
The story within these pages is completely fictional, but the concepts of BDSM are real. If you do choose to participate in the BDSM lifestyle, please research it carefully and take all precautions to protect yourself. Fiction is based on real life, but real life is
not
based on fiction. Remember-Safe, Sane and Consensual!
Any information regarding persons or places has been used with creative literary license so there may be discrepancies between fiction and reality. The Navy SEALs missions and personal qualities within have been created to enhance the story and, again, may be exaggerated and not coincide with reality. The author has full respect for the members of the United States Military and thanks them for their continuing service to making this country as safe and free as possible.
Table of Contents
As always, thanks to my Beta-readers for all you have done to help this story come to fruition—Charla, Abby, & Jessica, you’re the best!
Willy, Catrina, & Randy—thanks for your unending input whenever I needed it!
Thanks to my friends in the Writers United groups on Facebook for helping when I got stuck on something or answering questions whenever I had them.
Thank you, Emilia Rutigliano, for your patience and all things Russian in this book.
Thank you, Shawna, for sharing your husband’s marriage proposal with me. It really helped me find the words I needed. Juan is definitely a romantic guy and a keeper.
But most of all, thanks to the fans of Trident Security Series for all your support and encouragement. I couldn’t do this without you!
(If I forgot anyone, I apologize, because I cherish everyone who has had any part in helping my stories come to life!)
Boomer sat at his office desk, his eyes narrowing as he studied the paper before him. The answers should be easy, but for the life of him, he couldn't come up with the solution. He glanced at his cell phone to check the time and noted it was eighteen-twenty hours. The six-thirty appointment Colleen had scheduled for him was later than normal, but she'd told him the new client had requested the evening hour, so here he was trying to kill a few more minutes.
Mondays and Tuesdays were the only evenings it wasn't a problem for Trident clients to come to the compound where their offices were. The rest of the week, Ian and Devon Sawyer's other venture, The Covenant, was open, and Trident clients might be a little shocked to see the BDSM club's members in varying stages of undress walking through the parking lot.
The fenced-in compound consisted of four warehouses and was off the beaten path on the outskirts of Tampa, Florida. The first building after the guarded gate was home to the club. Beyond that was another gate leading to the remaining three buildings. Trident's offices, bunk rooms, firing range, training areas, gym and a vehicle garage occupied the next two structures, and the final one had been renovated into two large apartments. The bottom one belonged to Ian and his fiancée, Angie, while Devon and his fiancée, Kristen, lived on the second floor. The rest of the building was empty space, and plans were being drawn up to construct two more apartments. One would be home to Ian's god-daughter, Jennifer Mullins, when she wasn't at college. The men of Trident were her surrogate uncles, having served under her father in the teams. They’d taken over her guardianship after her parents were killed in a home-invasion the year before. The last unit would be offered to the youngest Sawyer brother, Nick, whenever he decided to opt out of the Navy. He'd made it through BUD/s three years ago and was now with SEAL Team Three in Coronado, California, so the twenty-five-year-old wouldn't be joining them anytime soon.
As Boomer tapped his pen on the desk, he looked over the hints available to him and became more frustrated because he still couldn't figure it out. He glanced up as Ian walked in and sat in one of the two guest chairs on the other side of the desk. "What's a nine letter word for vague? Starts with an 'A' and fifth letter is a 'G'.
"Ambiguous." Ian rolled his eyes. "And if you're going to keep asking me for help with the daily crossword puzzles then I'm getting you a fucking thesaurus for Christmas this year instead of your bonus."
Boomer gave his boss a smirk as he filled in the blank spaces of the puzzle. "You do, Boss-man, and I'm signing you up for an anchovy-of-the-month club."
Even though he knew his friend and employee was joking, Ian got a queasy look on his face. Boomer always found it funny how, out of six former SEALs, he was the only one who liked the oily yet salty fish, considering how much time they'd spent in and on the ocean while in the Navy. Well, maybe that
was
the reason.
"Not funny, Baby Boomer." Ian picked up the stress squeeze ball the other man kept on his desk and tossed it back and forth between both hands. "So, did you find out any information on this new client?"
Boomer threw the pen down on the newspaper and leaned back in his chair. "Nope. Colleen said the woman, a Kate Zimmerman, needed to hire Trident, but she wouldn't deal with anyone except me. I've racked my brains and can't recall ever meeting anyone by that name. I tried calling the phone number she'd left, but got the standard computerized voice telling me to leave a message. It comes back to a throwaway cell."
"One-night-stand?"
He snorted and didn't take offense since all the guys on the team had more one-night-stands over the years than any of them cared to admit. Their time in the military and then the security business hadn't given them many opportunities for long term relationships. Even if it did, Boomer wasn't interested. "I'd be lying if I said I remembered the first and last name of every woman I've ever slept with or scened with. But I'd like to think it would ring some sort of bell. Maybe she's a friend of a friend or something."
"Could be." They both knew a lot of their business was gained by word of mouth. "Guess we'll know in a few minutes. If she has no objections, and even if she does, I'll be sitting in on the meeting until we find out what she needs from us. If it's a bullshit my-husband's-cheating-on-me thing, I'll leave you to it."
"Fine with me. Are we the only two left in the office?"
Both men's phones chimed a text. The guard at the front gate was alerting them to their new client's arrival. Murray would buzz her through the second gate and instruct her where to park. They stood, and Boomer grabbed a legal-sized yellow pad and his pen, while Ian headed for the door. "Yeah. Colleen left. Polo and Egghead are on their way to New York to escort a shipment of diamonds from a dealer to the buyer here in Tampa. Jake is trying to track down one of his informants who he's worried about—hasn't seen the guy in about two months, which he says is unusual. And my lucky brother is wedding venue shopping with Kristen and picking out pink tablecloths with matching napkins as we speak."
"Ha!" Boomer barked and shook his head. "I wouldn't fuck with him, Boss-man. You're right behind him and karma's a bitch. Angie's going to be dragging your ass through the same tablecloths and napkins someday soon."
"Don't I know it. I'm trying to talk her into eloping, but I'm not having much success." The pained look on his face was mostly false since Boomer knew he’d give his woman the world if she asked for it. Well, as long as he didn't have to help pick out matching flowers, cummerbunds and bridesmaids' dresses, he would. "I'll go get your client and meet you in the conference room."
"K. Just going to hit the head real quick."
* * *
While Boomer headed in one direction for the bathroom, Ian walked in the other toward the reception area. The front door could only be opened from the inside by a lock release behind Colleen's desk or by a hand-scanner which unlocked the door for only those whose prints had been programmed into the system. He pulled the door open and found himself looking at a brown-haired beauty who seemed to be about Boomer's age of thirty. Wearing a pair of jeans and a short-sleeved navy blouse, she stood about five-foot-five in her flat off-white shoes which matched the belt at her slim waist. Her slender build made the shirt and pants look a little big on her, as if she'd recently lost some weight, but had yet to find clothes to fit her new frame. In Ian's opinion, she looked too thin. She took off her sunglasses and peered up at him, with big chestnut-colored eyes. "Hi, my name's Kate Zimmerman. I'm looking for Ben Michaelson. I have an appointment with him and the guard told me he was in this building."
When she glanced over her shoulder to where Murray was keeping watch at the front gate, Ian's eyes didn't follow hers. Instead, he looked with interest at Beau who was sitting near the driver's door of Ms. Zimmerman's Ford Focus. The goofy-faced dog was panting, but something about his posture and the fact that he seemed to be in a 'stay' position had Ian eyeballing the woman in front of him. She saw where his gaze had been and the corners of her mouth curved upward a tad as he raised a curious eyebrow at her. Her smile didn't quite meet her anxious eyes and when he got no answer to his unasked question, he opened the door wider. "Please come in, Ms. Zimmerman. I'm Ben's boss, Ian Sawyer. It's nice to meet you. If you don't mind, I'll be sitting in on your appointment."
Her smile faltered a little before she recovered. "Um, no. I mean, it's fine. I don't mind. It might be better that way."
Ian's curiosity was now further piqued, but he wasn't getting any bad vibes from her other than her nervousness, so he let her last comment slide for the moment. He glanced back at Beau who was still sitting there with his tongue hanging out of his mouth and seemed to be waiting for a command. Ian tapped his leg. "Beau,
heir
." The dog rushed over to his master, stopped and when he received a slight hand signal, trotted past him on the way to the darkened conference room. Ian had discovered the dog when it was a young puppy. Its dying mother had dug under the compound's perimeter fence to find a human who would take care of the little guy. When Beau was old enough, Ian took him to a friend who trained dogs for police departments and private security firms. Now, the silly looking mutt was trained as an aggressive-tracking dog as well as a guard dog. All his commands were given in German since it wasn't a common language in the states.
"He's beautiful. Lab and Staffordshire Terrier, correct?"
"We think so. I found him as a pup...well, actually, he found me." He shut the door and gestured her toward the conference room. "The vet thinks there may be something else mixed in there, maybe Great Dane, because his legs are a little longer than normal for the two breeds." He turned on the overhead lights to the room as they entered. "Please have a seat. Boomer will be here in a moment.
"Boomer?" she queried as she placed her large purse on a chair while he pulled out the one next to it for her to sit in.
Ian took the seat across from her, leaving his usual chair on the end empty. Although this was his company, he trusted his employee to take the lead in the unknown case. The client had requested him specifically, and Ian was willing to cede his authority for the moment, therefore giving Boomer the 'head' seat at the table. He studied the woman for a few seconds before answering her. "Sorry, I meant Ben. Boomer is his call sign from the Navy. No one uses his first name around here, but it's out of habit." He heard the man in question come down the hallway and saw him enter the room a second later. Ms. Zimmerman's back was to the door, but Ian knew the moment she realized Boomer was there without having seen him. Her body stiffened.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, Ms. Zimmerman. I..." Boomer walked over, peered down at the woman's face and froze. Confusion in his eyes turned to pure shock and Ian watched as the blood drained from his teammate’s face. His normally strong voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. "Katerina?"
And with that, Benjamin Thomas 'Boomer' Michaelson did something he'd never done before in his life. He fainted.
* * *
Yes, Benny, I will. I promise I’ll wait for you, forever…forever…forever
.
“Boomer. Boomer! Wake up, frog, that’s an order!”
The words and a knuckle digging painfully into his chest finally penetrated Boomer’s fog-filled mind and his eyes blinked open. Ian was kneeling next to him with a look of concern on his face while on his other side, Beau sat regarding him with a curious tilt of his furry head. And since Ian was kneeling and Boomer was flat on his back, it meant he was on the floor for some stupid reason. Rubbing his sore sternum, he asked, “W-what happened?”
“You okay? You fainted.”
Snorting, the younger man stared at his boss as if he had two heads. “Yeah, right. I’ve never fainted in my life. Not even when I saw the bone sticking out of my leg after the RPG attack.” It’d been a little over two years ago since the incident in Afghanistan and the resulting injuries had almost cost him his leg. As it was, he’d needed a knee replacement after several surgeries to repair the other damage to his shinbone. After he’d recovered, his tour was just about up, so he opted out of the Navy and rejoined his former teammates here at Trident.
Ian shifted back a little as his friend sat up. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
Boomer’s eyes narrowed as his head finally stopped spinning. “I was dreaming…” Shock came over his face again and he dragged a hand through his hair. “Ah, fuck. It wasn’t a dream, was it?”
Standing, Ian offered a hand to help him up. “No. It wasn’t.”
“Where is she?” He looked around the room as if Katerina would suddenly reappear.
“Sitting out by Colleen’s desk. I asked her to step outside so I could wake your ass up and find out what the fuck is going on. Now start talking, Ben. Who is she?”
Boomer knew his boss was not only worried, but pissed, because the man never used his given name unless he was in trouble, but at the moment he didn’t give a shit. “In a minute.” Striding out the door of the conference room, he went in search of a ghost.