“Wait. You…haven’t had sex in twenty years?” Shock infuses her tone, and she scrambles back against the pillows, pulling the blanket to her chest again. “Ford, my God. You’re…you’re like…um…super hot. Women should have been throwing themselves at you. And you should have been catching them.”
“I didn’t want them.” With a shrug, I meet her gaze. “I only ever wanted you.”
Joey
When Ford kisses me, all of my worries melt away. Even here, on the run, in a tiny apartment in a country where we could be killed in some neighborhoods just for having an American accent, nothing can touch me in his arms. Rolling on top of him, I press my hips to his, feeling the hard bulge of his erection against my thigh.
Fear ripples through me. Memories of all the times I was forced—either on my knees or taken from behind—and I whimper, but as I draw in a breath, I scent him. The man I love. The man who saved me and asked me a dozen times the previous night if I was comfortable. If I was ready.
“What are your triggers?” His fingers comb through my hair, and he holds my gaze. “What shouldn’t I do?”
“Just…face me. I can’t…go down on you. Not…yet.” Maybe not ever. “Just…go slow.”
Reaching into the duffel bag next to the bed, Ford pulls out a strip of condoms and drops them on the pillow. “Slow it is.”
He snags the waistband of his briefs and slides them down his hips, freeing his erection, and I stare at the wide, smooth shaft, the dark skin of his crown, and the bead of precum leaking from the tip.
I used to love sex with him. He filled me in a way that left me feeling…like nothing else could ever touch me, and I need that sensation again. My fingers tremble as I reach for him, and when I wrap them around his girth, he shudders. “Oh God, Joey. I won’t last long.”
Grabbing the foil packet, I try, unsuccessfully, to tear it open and roll the condom over his length. Ford stills my frantic efforts with his hands on mine, and when he meets my gaze, he offers me a tight smile. “Relax, buttercup. Take a deep breath. Focus on my voice. You’re so beautiful. So strong. I love you.”
The timbre of his words does with no anti-anxiety drug ever could—calms me and centers me—and once he’s sheathed, he asks, “Do you want to be on top?”
“N-no. I want you to make love to me.”
Straddling me, he nudges my entrance with his tip, and I lock my eyes onto his. I’m prepared for pain, for panic, but all I feel is…a delicious fullness as he slides home an inch at a time. So full. So…completely his.
“Tell me if this is too much,” he whispers against my lips. “Too fast, too hard, too…anything.”
And in that moment, I know…there’s nothing he could possibly do that I couldn’t come back from. My scars are my own. Made by bad men so many years ago, it feels like another lifetime. And while I’ll always remember, always be broken, with Ford, I’m who I’m supposed to be.
“Too perfect,” I say as I wrap my arms around his neck. “I want to feel you come, Ford. Please. Make me…yours again.”
Ford
As I lace up my boots, Joey plops down next to me on the bed and gives me a hard stare. “You had an entire strip of condoms in your bag. You were that confident you’d find me? And that I’d be willing—”
“No,” I say, forceful enough it almost sounds like a growl. “Shit. I’m sorry, baby.” Lowering my voice almost to whisper, I wait until Joey’s eyes no longer look like saucers. “I was certain I’d find you. Because I wasn’t going to leave until I did. But these…they’re part of our standard go-bags.”
“You regularly have sex on your protective details? Some of you?”
I chuckle, running my hand through my hair. “No, but better safe than sorry. Trev’s bedded a few women over the years. Pretty sure Clive has too. Even Ella took a suspect to bed when she was a cop. Though, I think that was the case that ended her career. She rarely talks about it.”
The look she gives me is skeptical at best, but then she bumps her shoulder into mine. “Well, no more condoms in your go bag, Marine. You’re mine now.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I stand and salute her, and she laughs. Not the tight, stressed out laugh I heard once or twice yesterday, but the laugh I remember. And when I meet her gaze, the light in her eyes is enough to make me take a step back in awe. “There you are, buttercup,” I whisper as I take her into my arms. “I knew I’d find you.”
Trevor grunts, “About damn time,” when we emerge from the bedroom a few minutes after eight. “Nomar’s on his way. Got a message from him twenty minutes ago. Nothing but clock time—oh-eight-thirty—and “need medical.”
At my side, Joey tenses. “Can we get more supplies? The first aid kit’s been pretty decimated. Between my foot and Trevor’s ankle…”
“Not without one of us leaving. And every time we leave this building, we risk being seen by the wrong people.” I rest my hand on her lower back and wait until she peers up at me. “Let’s hang tight until Nomar gets here. If you can’t treat him with what we have on hand, I’ll go out.”
Fear turns her eyes a paler blue, and she hugs herself tightly. “Don’t leave me,” she whispers. “Please. Not here.”
As Trevor shuts the door to the second bedroom, I frame her face with my hands. “Joey, I’m never going to leave you again. But if Nomar’s hurt, I can’t just let him suffer. Not after he risked so much for me—for both of us. And I worry about you on the streets. Trev hasn’t said anything, but we don’t know if Faruk is looking for you. Or if he is…where. I trust Trevor with my life. You can too.” Reluctantly, she nods, and I guide her into the kitchen. “Want to try eggs in a basket again?”
We’ve just finished breakfast when the radio crackles to life next to me. “Open the damn door.”
