If there was a heaven, she was going directly to hell for those last minutes. She couldn’t lie that it wasn’t her idea.
The first time it had been all about her. She owed him a session where he had his way. But Kye in charge didn’t feel in any way like giving up anything. It felt like a bonus ride on the craziest sex machine ever. But he was more than fine manly parts. He wasn’t in his own head getting off for his own pleasure. He was there with her, every second, making it personal, important, and precious.
“You okay?” He’d whispered those words several times in the throes of their wild ride. Against her mouth, against her ear, against her breasts. He’d wanted to share. And take care of her. He’d wanted her to be satisfied. It was personal.
She smiled, despite her fraught emotions. The immature young solider she’d met a dozen years ago had matured into one helluva man. This was someone she didn’t know. Or rather, was meeting for the first time. She could admit it now, when it couldn’t mean a thing, that she liked him.
There was a strong streak of the protector in Kye. Not the macho I-got-this show-off style she saw on display among K-9 handlers from time to time. Competition was a natural result of putting aggressive, streetwise cops or battle-ready soldiers together in a learning situation. To work with a dog, the K-9 officer needed to be something of an independent who preferred to work on his own with little or no supervision. Occasionally that competition spilled over into their personal lives, with men more interested in scoring against other men than in making happy the women they might be with. Not Kye. For all his laid-back surfer style, he was a man, strong, tender, and caring. He’d turned out to be one of the good guys. If only.
She glanced back down at her phone. No reply.
She caught a breath and held it, trying to steady her suddenly galloping heart. She was caught, between new experiences and old. Where did her loyalties lie? Could one night negate a year? No, that was crazy. She’d just made some terrible decisions. That, to be honest, she couldn’t find it in her to regret.
But now there was David. Still in her life, if uncertainly.
It had been her idea that she and Dr. David Gunnar purchase phones with numbers only they knew so that their relationship could have the privacy they both craved. Neither wanted their very public lives to spill over into this most personal connection. They even went so far as to trade semi-coded texts about where to meet, like children with a secret. David had a thing for pop standards from the ’40s and ’50s, music popular long before either of them were born. At various times over the past year she had received messages that read:
That’s Amore. Free to share a pensione in old Napoli?
April in Paris. I forget the lyrics. Bring them to the Madison Hotel.
Georgia on My Mind. Outer Banks paying good dividends.
This one was different. And caller ID was blocked.
David had never done that before. Yet the text could only be from him. Only he had this number. Perhaps he’d lost his original phone, or it had stopped working and he couldn’t replace it until now.
This message meant that he was okay. And that he wanted to see her.
Still, her sense of relief came mixed with a splash of anxiety as she reread his text. Do nothing until you hear from me? What did it mean?
“Coffee’s on.” Kye was back. His lids slid low over his gaze, taking in her bare legs. His smile held the warmth of a Pacific sun. “Should be ready by the time we’ve showered.”
Yard couldn’t miss the invitation in his gaze. It gave her a hot flush. “I don’t have time. You go ahead.”
She saw the humor drain from his expression at her tone. “Something’s going on, okay?” She held up her phone as if that would make her point for her.
“It’s not serious, I hope?”
“I don’t know yet.” But she did. It was very serious. Only she wasn’t certain what to do next. “Can you check the heater? It really did go out during the night.”
“Is it cold? I hadn’t noticed.”
She believed him. His erection was in full bloom again, fired by the same urges that made his gaze burn as it met hers. “I’ll check it out.” He turned, taking his fine ass and swaggering cock with him.
As soon as he was gone, Yardley started the video again. This time the second line of the song caught her attention. Pay no attention to what’s said. Was David telling her to discount whatever well-meaning friends or family might have said about his disappearance? They didn’t know anything about each other’s family and friends. Would he think she would tell anyone about them? Had he told someone? She didn’t think so. Or did he mean the FBI and the DEA?