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Peter’s hands came around and took over, earning another dove’s cry of need from his sweet girl. She was near full collapse; he could feel it. There was nothing medically wrong with her, no, but the workout this morning had told him what her conditioning was, where her limits were. He had promised he’d always take care of her, and he wasn’t going to fall down on the job.

Glancing up at the viewing mezzanine, he saw there was no space between Matt and Savannah and Cassandra, the women sitting on either side of him. Though of course Cassandra was all Lucas’s, that odd code that bound them permitted some liberties in such an arousing environment. So Cassandra leaned into Matt’s support, her fingers working up and down his thigh in a needy little gesture while Matt had his hand

discreetly up Savannah’s tight skirt, probably fingering her beautiful pussy in slow circles. Her lips were already parted, her throat working. He had his other arm around Cassandra’s shoulders, fingers lightly running up and down her upper arm. His knuckles grazed the side of her breast, which displayed a very attractively jutting nipple through the hold of her snug knit dress, since Lucas had had her shed the bra in the shadows of the limo.

As Peter expected, Lucas appeared beside them. Cass was up and in his arms, nearly climbing up his body such that he hitched her up, let her wind her legs around him as he cupped her ass and took her away toward a private room. Matt and Savannah rose, Matt supporting Savannah around the waist as they followed. They’d been known to take the same room, and enjoy the pleasure of watching one another, though they didn’t often invite the single members of the group to such displays. That was all right. Jon and Ben were already seeking their own partners, seeing Peter had things well in hand, literally.

He was now alone with his remarkable woman, trembling with reactions as strong as what he himself was feeling. Removing his condom, he eased her back from the stock.

Before he could arrange his clothes and lift her in his arms, she’d turned and dropped to her knees. With hardly a hesitation, she found him, closed her mouth around his drained cock, licking and cleaning him, a desperate gratitude that pierced his heart as he saw the tears. Withdrawing gently, he fastened his slacks and bent, lifting her. She nestled into him, her wrists still bound, else he suspected she would have wrapped herself around his shoulders.

He wasn’t going to one of the rooms, he realized. He was taking her home. He wanted to be with her at home.

Twelve

The limo would return for the others. Peter had told her that, but said little else. It wasn’t an awkward silence. She didn’t say anything, because she couldn’t speak. She’d never had an orgasm like that—hell, an experience—in her life. She’d shuddered and jerked for a good half hour now, so that Peter had moved her into his lap, holding her close, pressing kisses into her brow and murmuring to her. Her nipples were still vibrating, and occasionally he would touch them, stroke and massage in a way that kept a low simmer of arousal swirling.

“I don’t understand,” she said at last. She could hear the broken tone in her voice, echoing in her head, knew it reflected what was shattering inside her.

“What?” He tipped up her chin, traced her cheek, telling her he was looking into her face.

He’d removed the mask, but now his hand passed over where it had pressed into her skin, reminding her of it. Her tears fell without her permission all the time, so why she ducked her head now, embarrassed, she didn’t know. But he kept her face up. “Tell me,

sweetheart. Don’t cry. Your tears will destroy me.”

She heard it again, that mysterious dark lake of his emotions that kept reaching toward her and then withdrawing before she could grasp it. She gripped his wrist. “It’s too intense. I know it’s not just sex between us, Peter. But how can I . . . I can’t wrap my mind around this in a couple days, make any kind of decision about anything. I’m terrified to rely on you, to be disappointed, or to disappoint you. I mean, hell, if I’d come back whole and we’d dated, I would have been in a position of strength. Not needy and dependent. How do I know you know what you’re getting into? How do I know any of this is real, for either of us?”

He was silent for a bit, silent enough to make her worry, to make her wish she’d said nothing. See, she was already too clingy. God, what had happened to the woman who’d plunged into a firefight?

“First,” he said at last, “I completely agree. There’s no way you can make a decision about us in two days. I never expected you to do that. What I want is for you to decide that we’re worth a shot, and stay with me. See how it goes.”

“I don’t want you paying for stuff and—”

“Then we make a damn budget and cut it down the middle. If you want to eventually get your own place nearby, to prove something to yourself, fine.” The spark of temper was oddly reassuring. “That’s not what this is about and you know it. What if you had come back healthy and whole? Do you think you’d want me any less? Do you think I’d want you any less than I do now? How did you feel about me before that bomb exploded, Dana? Tell me.”

She wanted to resist him, but she couldn’t fight her own honesty. “I couldn’t wait to see you again.” The unconscious word choice formed a lump in her throat. “I dreamed of you. Wanted you so much it hurt.”

His fingers slid over the ache, caressing the throat bound in his collar. “You do see me, Dana. And I see

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