Willing Sacrifice Page 71


Her gaze shifted to Peter and Dana. The big man who bore a distinct resemblance to Max was sprawled in a large easy chair and Dana was balanced on the wide arm. She’d pulled her bare feet up onto it and crossed them at the ankles, Peter’s arm snug around her hips, keeping her steady. It was hard to believe not too long ago Dana had come back from Iraq broken in body and mind, wishing she’d died in the explosion that had taken her sight. Now she was a fully ordained minister, already beloved by her congregation, and of course she did the impossible—reconciled that identity with her need to be Peter’s hardcore brat submissive, challenging and loving his Mastery of her.


Janet’s gaze went back to Matt, to find her boss’s attention on her. She expected his mind was on something similar, because those dark eyes smiled. He lifted his drink in a subtle gesture of affection to her. He was pleased with her happiness, and his regard for her, his care, was obvious in his expression. She swallowed. Thank you.


He shook his head at the silently mouthed words and rose, leaving Rachel and Savannah overseeing his daughter. When he bent to Janet, he brushed a kiss over her mouth. His murmured words to her were covered by the animated discussions of the others.


“You deserve happiness, Janet. You both do.” When his attention shifted, including Max, her man pressed against her back, his hands lingering on her hips.


“We’re all your family here,” Matt said. “Don’t ever forget that, and you’ll never be lost again.”


* * * * *


After they left Lucas and Cass’ house, Max drove her out to a deserted road that gave them a vantage point to watch planes taking off at the New Orleans airport. Amused, she saw him pull a cooler out from the back of the truck. Flipping it open, he offered her a wine chiller and popped open another beer. Then he laid out a generous display of truffles, cheese and other treats from the party.


“Does Marcie know you made off with these?”


“Only if you tell. And if you eat any, you’re an accomplice.”


“Hmm. Blackmailer.” She picked up a truffle, tasted it, closed her eyes. “My God, Ben can cook. He really should run a restaurant.” Then she leaned over, eyes still closed. Max slid the food out of the way so he could bring her up against his side, give her the kiss she was wanting. She tasted the flavor of the beer, enjoyed it with the truffle, the scent of Max wrapping around her.


“So why do you come out here?”


He settled back against the windshield, shifting her between his thighs, cradling her. She rested her hand on his belt, idly tracing it, tugging at his dress shirt. Her ribs were pressed against his groin, and she liked the interested reaction she was getting there. It might be nice to make love here, while the planes went overhead. She wondered if the pilots would be able to see them, though she expected they weren’t close enough.


“Sometimes when I close my eyes, I imagine I’m up in the sky, about to do a HALO jump,” he said. “I remember the way it felt, leaping out of that plane, seeing the curve of the earth for a few seconds… It’s a lot like I feel when you climax around me, when I see you get lost in it.”


She tilted her head to look up at him. He had his eyes closed now. “You think about it?” he asked.


“Jumping out of a plane? Or climaxing with you? Hell no to the first, all the time to the second.”


He smiled. “Getting married.”


She hadn’t expected that, and something tilted in a not-so-unpleasant way at the thought. Still, she kept her tone casual. “Sometimes. If some ancient Saudi sheikh asked me, and I could figure out a way to off him pretty fast and take all his money.”


He cracked an eyelid, considered her. “You’d probably need an accomplice to pull that off. I’d take a fifty-fifty cut. We could go hide out in Belize together.”


“Sixty-forty. I’m the one that has to sleep with him.”


“Can I have fifty-fifty if I agree to sleep with him too?”


“Idiot.” She looked up as the next plane passed overhead, found his hand. When his fingers curled around hers, she turned her head, let it rest on his shoulder. “Yes. I’ve thought about it. But only recently. Which means I need a lot more time to think about it.”


“I’ll be around. But just so you know, for you I might even endure a cold shower. You can ask Dale—to a SEAL, that’s the ultimate sacrifice.”


“I will be asking him, so you better not be lying.”


His lips brushed her temple then he touched her jaw, tilted her face up so that he could put his mouth on hers, a slow, deep, drugging kiss that had her sinking into the hold of his arms as he slid both around her. Cradled in his arms, held between his thighs, his heart thumping steadily against hers where she lay against his chest…there was no better place to be.


When he at last broke the kiss, she stared up into his gray eyes, so serious and intent on her face.


“I’m already yours, Mistress. You want to make it formal, today, tomorrow or when I’m as old as that sheikh, I’ll be here. You ever want to cut me loose…”


Her fingers were on his mouth in an instant, stopping his words.


“No. I never do. I never will.”


His lips curved in that sexy, slow smile. She wasn’t one for rash or impulsive declarations, and while this felt like both, the rarity of it reflected her true, deepest feelings. She would marry him. They both knew it, though neither one said it.


She lay back down in his arms. They watched the planes come and go, both of them content to be silent, holding the precious weight of truth…and each other.