“For what?”
“Between us, we need to take out seven outposts. I can take three and you can take three. I’m going to lead one, and I have Nash and Beckett for the other two. I want Rylan to take point for the seventh one.”
Behind them, Sloan made a sound of protest. Reese didn’t allow herself to acknowledge it. She’d known it was going to be a fight, but it wasn’t one she wanted to have in front of Connor.
Connor rubbed his lips together before replying. “Sure, if that’s what you want.”
Damn him for phrasing it like that, and in front of Sloan, no less. She blazed with sudden anger. “It is.”
“Hope you know what you’re doing.” He brushed past her and slapped Sloan on the back, then murmured something close to Sloan’s ear.
Was he inviting Sloan to be on his team? That was not what Reese wanted.
“Sloan will be staying here,” she nearly shouted.
The two men startled at the sharpness of her voice.
Fists clenched at her sides, she repeated, “Sloan is staying at Foxworth.”
Forgetting Connor’s presence, Sloan exploded. “What the hell, Reese?”
“I need you to stay here.” She forced herself to face his hurt, which was a million times worse than any anger he could direct her way.
“And do what? Fucking knit booties for Bethany’s baby?” It was a measure of how upset he was, because Sloan never spoke a word of criticism against her in front of anyone. They always presented a united front. Behind closed doors, he’d tell her she was foolish, her plan was stupid, or that she was making awful decisions, but never in public.
“I’m gonna go now,” Connor interjected, but neither of them paid attention to him.
Reese barely registered the click of the latch as Connor shut the door behind him. “It’s the best use of our limited resources,” she told Sloan, marshaling up the list of excuses she’d formed this morning.
“You’re taking one of Con’s men, depleting his team, and using Rylan when you have me here? Did I somehow break my trigger finger without knowing?” Sloan shot back.
“This is our town. Someone has to be here to protect them.”
“Bull-fucking-shit. There are plenty of men you could leave here. Nash. Travis. Jordan. Vaughn.” He rattled off the names of several competent men and women who could, indeed, protect the town.
“None of them are you.”
Damn it, didn’t he understand why it was crucial that he remain?
Sloan stalked over, stopping barely a whisper away from her. “You do not go anywhere without me.”
Her parched mouth grew even drier as she forced out the words that were forming a wedge between them. “You don’t get to tell me what I can and cannot do.”
“This is about Rylan, isn’t it? You fucked him again and now you can’t bear to be separated from him for one moment?”
Her own guilt made her snap back. “You really think I’m making decisions with my pussy? Do you realize how insulting you’re being right now?”
“Do you realize how foolish you’re being right now?” he yelled. “You’re letting your emotions dictate your battle plans.”
Sloan was so furious, there was a vein pulsing at his temple. His hands were fisted at his sides, and just being near all that barely checked violence flooded Reese’s body with inappropriate desire. She wanted him to grab her, tear off her clothes and plunge into her with the same fury until every part of her body that ached and yearned for him was pounded into submission.
Lust was threatening to cave in her brain, erasing the words she’d cobbled together earlier. “This town is our heart. If anything happens to it, all of our plans are meaningless.”
“I don’t disagree.”
He marched forward and Reese had to back up to keep from being trod upon. She kept moving until her back hit the wall and there wasn’t any other place for her to go. No other place to look but at Sloan’s heaving chest or his angry, unhappy face.
“There are fifteen men and women who are more than capable of protecting this place,” he growled at her. “You need me in the field.”
No. She didn’t need anything, but, oh hell, did she want. She wanted him in the field. She wanted him in her bed. She was starting to crave him.
The sex with Rylan had screwed with her head. She’d never had such intense orgasms, and all she’d done was fantasize about Sloan’s touch. This morning she’d woken up bathed in sweat after having the dirtiest dream of her life featuring Sloan, Rylan, and herself tangled up in positions she was positive were not physically possible. She’d caught herself pausing outside of Sloan’s door after she’d climbed out of bed, her hand raised as if to knock. And do what? Throw herself inside, take his thick cock into her mouth, and beg him to face-fuck her like he did Rylan? No holds barred, nothing held back?
What then? Reese knew she was a selfish bitch, but she was trying to overcome that. She was trying to put that behind her.