It'll Be An Adventure (Masters of the Shadowlands #15)(81)
Author: Cherise Sinclair

 

He dropped forward onto his hands, penetrating her deep and hard all the way to the hilt.

 

She started climaxing with the finest of “eeee” sounds…and hopefully didn’t notice his laughter.

 

Buttheaded jerk?

 

He hammered into her, drawing out her climax. And his own arrived as her cunt spasmed around him—the combination was one of the finest feelings in the world. Slowly, he drew out her release, drew out his own.

 

Eventually, he released her hands, and when she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, it felt as if he’d come home.

 

He was still inside her, their connection as intimate as two people could be, and he would be happy doing this, being with her, for the rest of his life. “I love you, Murphy.”

 

She buried her face in his neck, and he heard her whisper. “I love you, so so much.”

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY

 

 

 

 

 

As Saxon parked and shut off his SUV, Murphy stared through the windshield and tried to remember to breathe. She sure couldn’t move just yet.

 

This was the practice area?

 

Past the parking area was a nightmare of broken concrete and bent steel. A building condemned after a hurricane had been demolished, and the rubble transformed into a training ground for the fire departments.

 

The bridge collapse had shown that the local volunteer search and rescue groups needed more urban rescue experience. The fire department had offered to work with them here.

 

But damnfinito, does it have to be so soon? It’d only been a week.

 

Murphy didn’t realize she was wringing her hands until Saxon stroked her arm.

 

“You don’t have to come onto the rubble heap, you know.”

 

“I’m fine.” She swallowed and firmed up her voice. “I think it’ll be good for me. Like getting back on a horse or something.”

 

Whoever came up with that saying ought to have his butt peppered with buckshot.

 

After a long moment studying her, Saxon touched her cheek. “All right.” Getting out, he started unloading Sherlock and gearing up.

 

“Here goes,” Murphy said under her breath and followed suit.

 

The first few steps onto the mountainous debris field were…hard. The air seemed thick and sticky, like it didn’t want to get pulled into her lungs.

 

With a concerned gaze, Saxon stayed next to her, as Sherlock started the search.

 

Sucking in hard breaths, Murphy kept moving.

 

I can do this, dammit.

 

When an enormous pipe beneath her shifted, she froze. Cold sweat trickled down her back. After a long moment, she took a step forward. And another.

 

Even as she detoured around a jagged crevice, her legs felt distant, as if they didn’t even belong to her. She kept going.

 

And, little by little, it got easier.

 

Up ahead, Sherlock caught a scent. His tail wagged furiously as he sniffed at rising air from a crack. His barked announcement held a jubilant note. Found somebody.

 

Carefully, Murphy made sure her footing was stable, then reported in and updated her graphic, while keeping an eye on Saxon.

 

As he moved forward, he firmly motioned for Sherlock to stay put.

 

Sherlock—after all the remedial lessons this week—stayed obediently in place.

 

“Whew. He’s being good.” She huffed in relief.

 

Saxon glanced at her.

 

Her grin came naturally. “I’m so glad I don’t have to follow him into a hole this time.”

 

“No shit,” he muttered.

 

They reached Sherlock who was still in place. Down below him, in a tunneled-out area, was their volunteer target.

 

Saxon said loudly, “Good dog, Sherlock.”

 

Grinning, the volunteer guy extended his fingers through the hole with a tug toy, repeating after Saxon, “Good dog, Sherlock. Great job.”

 

Sherlock enthusiastically grabbed the toy and tugged on it a few times, then got his special reward treat.

 

And then he waited for his human to do his part.

 

Laughing, Saxon bent and delivered an enthusiastic petting with all the praise. “Good job, buddy. Excellent work.”

 

Pleased, the dog danced back to Murphy so she could do the same. “What a good dog. So smart, so talented. Good dog.”

 

“Okay then.” Saxon straightened. “Sherlock, find more.”

 

And they were off again.

 

 

 

What a long day.

 

Saxon and Sherlock had joined a couple of very experienced K9 teams for more tips on directing dogs in disaster areas, while Murphy went with others for more lessons on rubble field navigation.

 

By the time everyone was coming off the pile of concrete and pipes, she was exhausted and thirsty and disgustingly filthy. She glanced at the others and moaned, “I am sooo in need of a hot shower. And a beer.”

 

The woman next to her, a flanker from the Hillsborough team, laughed. “And pizza.”

 

Laughing, they exchanged fist-bumps of agreement.

 

Where were Saxon and Sherlock? Murphy stopped to eye the various small clusters of people in the practice area. Some were under a shady stand of trees. More were slowly heading out, done for the day.

 

She glanced at her watch. She and Saxon had agreed to meet at the parking lot about now.

 

Ah, there he was. Still on the heap with one of the firefighter teams. She’d only been able to spot him because of his size. Since the group was moving off the rubble, it wouldn’t be too long.

 

“Well, well, well, look who’s here.” Ross’s distinctive tenor came from behind her.

 

Murphy turned slightly, not particularly wanting to speak to him. But she didn’t want a scene—and Ross was nothing if not persistent. She managed to smile. “Were you out on the rubble field?”

 

Doubtful, considering his brown hair was still styled, his clothes were clean. In contrast, she felt like a dirty, sticky mess.

 

“Of course not. I was here for a seminar on communication and coordination of multiple teams. Ways to keep all you searchers in line.”