“He—Sajack—seemed happy. He ran to me and acted like he wanted to leave when I did, but Mary Alice patted her lap and called him and he went right back to her. You can tell she already dotes on him.”
And he missed the dog. He didn’t have to say it. She gave him a quick hug before they went inside.
The night proceeded much like the one before it had, with him building up the fire and moving the mattress into the living area. He unpacked the duffle bags, laying out an impressive array of weapons, which he inspected by lamplight though she knew, since the weapons belonged to him, that they were already in excellent condition. But he was thorough, and he knew what he was doing.
She was so tired, and content to sit and read while he worked. She glanced at the clock once and saw that it was barely eight-thirty. Both the book and her eyelids got heavy, and with a sigh she rested her head against the back of the couch and closed her eyes, just for a minute. The next thing she knew he was lifting her in his arms, and when she looked again at the clock it was after nine.
“I didn’t mean to doze off,” she murmured.
“If you’re too tired we can—”
She interrupted him. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Most definitely.” He gave her that small, delicious smile of his and her heart lurched wildly. They undressed each other—not as frantically as they had the night before, but their pace wasn’t leisurely, either.
Foreplay was limited to the fierce caresses they shared before lying down; he rolled onto his back, pulled her on top of him, and without hesitation she gripped his penis and guided him inside her. She felt as if her entire body tightened around him, so intense was the feel of him, big and hot, deep inside. She groaned aloud as she leaned back, intensifying the contact. His big hands closed over her breasts, rough thumbs rubbing over her nipples, then he moved his grip to her hips and rocked her back and forth.
Her climax hit so fast and hard that it took her by surprise. Dimly, from the depths of wrenching pleasure, she heard her own high, soaring cries and was astonished at herself. She’d never been a yeller . . . until Ben. Everything about him pulled her out of herself, took her to new places even though those places were all in her head.
When she collapsed limply on his chest he rolled with her, tucked her under him, and stroked deep into her. He had enough control to hold on until she came again, then with a low, harsh sound he let himself go.
Lying together in front of the fire, nested in the blankets, was one of the best things she’d ever known in her life. His hand moved slowly up and down her bare back, gently massaging her vertebrae, stroking over her butt. She rested her head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat, acutely aware of both his strength and the fragility of life.
“Stop worrying,” he said, pulling her closer and kissing her temple.
“I didn’t say a word,” she protested, tilting her head back to look at him.
“You didn’t have to.”
She didn’t argue, because what was the use? Instead she concentrated on this moment, the now. They were naked beneath the covers, wonderfully warm on a cold night, skin to skin, legs tangled. The fire had died down to a quiet crackle of low flames, just warm enough. In the now, she couldn’t have asked for anything more.
All it had taken to get her here was the end of the world as she knew it.
After a while he said, “What you told that preacher . . .”
“Common sense.”
“It was.” He paused. “We’ll be out of condoms soon. And I don’t want to stop . . . this.” His hand moved along her hip, her thigh.
Her breath sighed out of her. “I don’t, either.”
“We should get married.” His voice was rough. “Don’t say anything yet. Think about it, and think hard. I’m not— I’ll try to change, but I’m not an easy person to live with. There are days when I just want to be left alone.”
Electricity ran through Sela and she rose up on one elbow, her eyes huge as she stared at him in the firelight. He’d asked her to marry him. He’d proposed. Her heart pounded and her lips parted, but he put a finger across them. “I meant it. Don’t say anything yet. This is serious business, and you need to think about it.”
She buried her face against his shoulder to stifle the giggles that rose in her throat. So the worst he could think of was that some days he wanted to be left alone? So did she. They each needed to be alone for different reasons, but she imagined that need for quiet would give them a peaceful life together. But if he wanted to wait for an answer, she would wait. Perhaps he needed the time to accustom himself to the idea, even though he was the one who had broached the subject.
Marriage. To him. Yes, please. Oh hell yes. Yes to the nth degree. Yes yes yes.
They lay quietly together. When she glanced up at him he was staring into the fire, his gaze distant. Proposing marriage was serious business, but she strongly suspected his thoughts had already moved on to the possible firefight looming tomorrow. People could get killed. He knew more about that, probably, than anyone else in the valley. Whatever battles he’d been in, he still carried them with him.
She could lose him tomorrow.
It was a special kind of hell, loving someone who was on the front line. Pride mingled with quiet terror, knowing that their second night together could be their last night together. Her hands tightened on him, her fingers digging into the hard muscles of his back.
His hand moved between her legs, rough fingers probing. “I can distract you for a while.”
Sela closed her eyes, sighed out a soft breath. “Yes, you can.”
Then he was inside her, moving, making her forget the world beyond this bed. His growling voice murmured against her ear, “I can’t get enough of you.”
Her orgasm rocked her to her core, and Ben was right behind her.
Chapter Twenty-Four
An hour before Lawrence’s scheduled meeting, Ben, Mike, Trey, and Cam were in place around the deserted crafts building, which was literally no more than a mile, as the crow flies, from Sela’s house. The curvy, hilly roads made it seem farther than it was. The layout of the surroundings was just as Leigh Kilgore had described it, providing them with adequate cover. He had weighed the anonymity of walking in, using the terrain as cover, against the benefit of having vehicles nearby in case they needed to get somewhere fast. He’d opted for driving to a barn about half a mile away and concealing their vehicles there.
He could’ve used more men, definitely, but the more who knew about the plan the more likely it was someone would say the wrong thing to the wrong person, deliberately or by accident, it didn’t matter. Not only that, concealment for more than four would have gotten exponentially more difficult. Four men were enough, in Ben’s opinion, and he instinctively trusted the other three, as well as the two guarding Carol’s house and the women in it.
Harley and Darren were guarding Carol’s house, where the women waited. Ben didn’t expect trouble, but damned if he wouldn’t plan for it. These fuckers had nearly killed Sela once, and once was enough.
There was no cover at the front of the building, a single-story dark-wood box that looked very much like a cheaply built mountain house. There was a faded sign near the road, advertising arts and crafts, as well as homemade jam. He didn’t know how long the business had been closed, but it had been long enough for bushes to grow up to the windows on the side, and for that sign to weather so much you had to be right up on it to read the words. Ben and the men he had chosen to be here were situated at the back and to both sides. Those who were positioned on the side could see most of the entrance, the front steps and most of the wide, rustic porch. The parking lot was in full view.