Willing Sacrifice (Knights of the Board Room #6)

When he spoke, it was a low rumble, a half breath, like it was cracking his ribs all over again just to say it. She shifted her head so her cheek was pressed to his and he was speaking into her ear, each of them staring at the opposite wall. If there were mirrors, they would have seen endless versions of themselves.

“I came home,” he said, “and there was no home. My sister was there, but she was no longer… We’ll never be able to connect, love one another the same way. If I ruined that for us, Janet, if you’re… I’d do anything to go back to that day.”

He drew his head back, stared at her. His gray eyes were raw, tormented, and she found looking at them was like looking at the sun. Too bright and painful, risking permanent damage, but she couldn’t look away. “There’s this diving term we use. ‘Reset point’. It’s when you choose a familiar underwater object to orient yourself if you lose direction. I realized—too late—that you’re that point for me.”

He swallowed. “If I could do it over, I’d say the hell with the code, my need for vengeance or justice. I’d just make sure I never sent you to that place in your head that’s beyond where I can reach you. I need you, Mistress. I love you. Come back to me. Please.”

Just like that, the catalyst happened. An almost audible snap as everything tore loose, like a dam giving way. She hadn’t figured out what broke her out of that self-imposed prison last time, but there was no doubt what had done it this time. Max.

His voice broke. She found herself wrapping her arms as tightly as she could around his head and shoulders, curving her body against his. And he reciprocated, banding his arms around her, rocking them both, because now she was crying too. The ice was thawing, even as it was cutting her, hurting her.

But she was tough, tougher than anyone had ever expected, right? She wouldn’t let herself not love this man, this man who was afraid he’d lost her. But things were tender, painful, bleeding. She didn’t…she couldn’t pull it together.

“I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t feel, Max. I don’t know why…I wasn’t trying to punish you. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Yes, I did. I forgot the most important mission. Protecting the people I love, giving them everything they need. Amanda, you.” His voice stayed thick, even as he lifted his head so his gray eyes locked on hers. “There’s this thing we learn called counterinsurgency techniques—COIN. It’s when you learn that taking out a target or kicking in a door isn’t always the best route. Sometimes it’s getting the village kids candy or playing soccer with them, or helping their moms or grandparents rebuild a door that got kicked in on a raid. You defeat the enemy by winning the hearts of people who have dealt with too much death and loss, show them there’s some other way, showing yourself there’s another way. I should have seen there was some other way.”

“No.” She shook her head. “Max, you can’t regret something like that. You were right. He won’t harm anyone else. That has to be worth something.”

“But it’s not worth losing you. I’m sorry, Mistress. I won’t fail you again. Just don’t go away from me like that. It fucking killed me, these past few weeks…seeing you so far away, though you were so close…”

“Stop, stop, stop…” She rained kisses on his eyes, his wet lashes, his nose, his forehead, the strong jaw, and then she landed on his lips and held there, a deep, drowning kiss, filled with soft whimpers and needy moans.

Touch me, she thought, and he put his hands on her back, sliding down to her hips and up again, as if he was trying to touch her everywhere at once.

“I need to be inside of you. Please.”

Don’t ask, show me. Make me feel how badly you want me. Don’t just melt the ice. Turn me into a fucking tropical ocean.

Again, she spoke not a word, but within the first second of the thought, he was out of the chair, holding her by the waist with one arm, his hand plunged into her hair. He held the strands so tightly they pulled against her scalp while he dove even deeper into the kiss. He dropped to one knee and she kept her legs around him. When he shifted, for one breathless moment he was holding her parallel with the ground, her body wrapped around his torso, his one arm and his knees holding them both. Then he’d laid her down beneath him.

She hadn’t dressed up, merely donning her last set of work clothes, a modest skirt and blouse combo, a pair of low-heeled boots. He tore open her blouse, doing the same to the bra beneath in one powerful motion.

He descended on her bared breasts, licking and biting, then fell to a deep suckling, as if he was nourishing himself from the contact. She bucked up against him, scoring him with her nails, drawing blood. He put his other hand between them, found her panties beneath her rucked-up skirt and yanked the crotch aside, tearing the seams as he drove into her.

He was rutting stag hard, and she squeezed her legs tight around him, welcoming the deep pain and pleasurable agony as he plunged, thrusting so hard he was moving them on the tile floor. She would hurt tomorrow, but it wouldn’t matter. It would be the best kind of aching.

“Don’t go away…mine…Mistress…”

“No. I won’t. I won’t.” She made the whispered oath against his flesh, her tears pressed against his skin. He felt them, because he slowed down. Seating himself even deeper, he lifted up enough to frame her face and kiss each tear away with slow, tender precision. Which caused more tears for him to kiss away. Those gray eyes gazed upon her in a you’re-everything-to-me way that could melt even a Dragon Lady’s heart.

He was finding his center again, that rock steadiness she needed. She was part of that center now. He’d made that clear, and yet he’d become the same for her. She couldn’t have found her way out of the ice without him. He’d done it in a shocking, quick and brutal way, exposing himself to this, but that wasn’t the miracle. It was how seeing him under another woman’s touch, how the first grip of his hands on Janet’s body, had simply smashed that ice as if it would never have the power to hold her again. Not against her need for him. She was reeling from it. Reaching up, she touched his face.

What happened when two sides surrendered everything to one another, when the love became more important than anything else? Maybe they found their own special paradise, peace in a sometimes ugly, scary world. She held that thought to herself, even knowing he’d probably agree with it. She didn’t hold her next thought to herself though.

“I love you, Max. Endlessly, totally, completely.”

As he pressed his face against her neck, a great sigh raised his shoulders. It settled his weight upon her, but she didn’t mind. He didn’t let it become too much, anyway, lifting up within a few breaths to begin moving inside her again. As he did, he slid an arm around her waist, palmed her buttock so that he handled most of the movement, most of the effort. His eyes glowed with heated pleasure as her cries became more insistent, her body arching to his, her hands gripping his biceps.

“Come with me, Mistress.”

She did, going over that edge with him. Even as they fell, she knew they’d find that peace and paradise they’d never expected to find alone. But together, the impossible became possible.

When they got their breath back, were ready to fly again, she was going to kiss every inch of his wonderful muscled skin, every inch she thought she might have lost, and she wouldn’t stop until…

Fuck it. She wasn’t ever going to stop.

Epilogue

One month later

“So if he chickens out of this thing, do I still get to keep the gifts?” Marcie eyed the pile of opened packages for her and Ben’s engagement party. “That single-cup coffeemaker alone is worth marrying him.”

“I can get it for you at a discount, then you don’t need him at all,” Lucas advised. Ben shoved at his shoulder.

“Way to have a brother’s back.”

Janet smiled at them as Ben brought Marcie to his side. The engaged couple enjoyed a warm kiss, followed by a moment of intent adoration. The two of them were so obviously wrapped up in one another it was bound to incite reaction from Marcie’s younger brother.

“I am so going to puke,” Nate said, emulating a gag.

The family gathering was assembled out on the large sun porch at Lucas and Cass’ house. Sitting on the foot piece of a lounge chair, Janet felt Max’s hand brush between her shoulder blades. She glanced back at him. He straddled the chair right behind her, his knees splayed to accommodate her hips. Her hand rested on his knee. He had a beer balanced on the other one, but his eyes on her were warm, promising.

He knew exactly what he did to her when he looked at her like that.

“Behave,” she murmured, trying to look stern. “Or I’ll make you go sit in the car.”

“Yes ma’am,” he chuckled. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to her shoulder. She turned her face to his forehead as he did it, held there, even realizing the two of them looked no less besotted than the guests of honor. And it hadn’t escaped notice.

“Oh God, it’s contagious. Now I’m going to puke too!” Ben made the same noises as Nate. The teenager barked with laughter as the K&A lawyer pretended to throw up behind Marcie. She shoved at him and aimed a slap at Nate, which he dodged.

“Keep it up, boys, and I’ll take back that single-cup coffeemaker,” Janet threatened.

As laughter swept the room, Janet looked around at all of them. Matt and Savannah sat across from them on a loveseat, Angelica asleep at Matt’s foot in her portable cradle. Jon and Rachel were next to them, Jon on a chair, Rachel sitting at his feet, ostensibly to stroke and coo at the baby, but also because Rachel enjoyed subtle signs of her submission to him, something that brought her peace.

In fact, in this room, Janet saw many examples of how peace had been found, demons had been laid to rest. Ben probably fought the most in that regard, and yet she’d never seen him look so happy. Lucas and Cass could see it as well, such that the worry Marcie’s older sister had held about Ben was decreasing. Ben was going to be okay. Love could do that.