It was a good thing A.J. hadn’t been with Luke and Knox in the Maldives. He would’ve killed Winters with his bare hands.
“You okay? I’m sorry.” Knox’s voice was low and soft. Compassionate. Then he tossed a thumb behind him, letting A.J. know they’d leave and give them some space.
“Call you later,” A.J. mouthed and thanked him before he and Adriana quietly left.
Ana unleashed more tears once the door clicked shut, then sank to her knees. He went to the floor with her, keeping her in his embrace so she could let go. Let all the pain and anger free.
“Can I kill him?” he asked when she pulled back, brushing the backs of her hands over her cheeks.
“Porter or Winters?” she whispered.
“I’m good with both,” he answered in all honesty.
“I’d prefer you not go to jail before we have our three-month adventure.”
“So after that,” he said with a nod.
“I can’t imagine what would have happened if you hadn’t come into my life when you did.”
He couldn’t imagine either, and he never wanted to.
He brought her face closer to his, gently caressing her cheeks in his palms. “Good, don’t picture it.” He kissed a few stray tears on her cheek. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
“By the way, you still owe me a game of Seven Minutes in Heaven for that bet you lost. You said our comms wouldn’t work in the tunnels in Budapest which, obviously, was not the case.” A.J. rolled to his side in Ana’s bed and lowered the sheet from her chest, exposing her naked breasts. He was greedy, and he wanted every chance to soak in the sight of her before he left for Alabama soon.
He’d only be gone for two days, but right now, that was two days too long. Maybe if Porter hadn’t died on Thursday morning, he would have been able to convince Ana to go with him to the wedding, but he didn’t want to push since she was still emotionally recovering from a damn tough week.
It was Saturday morning, the day of Ella’s dress rehearsal, and one week since Ana was on a yacht on the Danube with the Russians shooting at her . . .
He’d originally planned on going to Alabama last night, but then he and Ana had made love for the first time since the safe house in Georgia, and he hadn’t been able to get out of bed. He just might have the same problem this morning.
Leaving her would not be easy. The idea of Ana being alone after what she’d been through made him crazy.
“I think the twenty-plus minutes you spent with your mouth between my legs earlier, and afterward when I returned the favor, is a lot better than Seven—”
He cut her off, needing to taste her. Kiss those sweet lips. She moaned against his mouth and intensified the kiss when her tongue met his.
He palmed her breast before trailing his hand along the curve of her hip and down around to her ass cheek. “This is heaven,” he murmured, growing harder than hard. “I really don’t want to leave.”
“Your family will hate me, and you’ll hate yourself, if you miss Ella’s wedding.” She gently placed a hand to his abdomen, a look of distress on her face when she touched the bruise as though angry at herself for shooting him.
Thank God the woman was a damn fine shot, though.
“You could make me the happiest man in the world and board that plane with me in ninety minutes.” He had, maybe, twenty minutes before he needed to leave for the airport. And twenty minutes out of the next forty-eight hours was not nearly enough time with Ana.
“I just don’t think I can. I’m an emotional basket case. I’ll get better, I promise. But this has been . . .”
“I know.” And he understood. He didn’t think most people would be able to function after what Ana had gone through, but she was strong. Brave and determined. A force of nature. And a woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
“You’ll have some of the guys there with you, right?”
“Unfortunately, while you were sleeping earlier, I got a call from Wyatt. Echo Team is spinning back up. Should be a quick op in Vancouver, but Luke is filling in for Wyatt just in case the op turns into something longer. Can’t have Wyatt missing his wedding this month.”
“Who is filling in for you?” She softly circled her nail over the shape of the bruise on his stomach.
“Knox offered.” And A.J. wanted to hate that he wouldn’t be serving as Echo Two for the next three months, but getting to spend all that time alongside Ana was more than he could hope for.
“So, no one is coming with you to Ella’s wedding, then?” she asked, her voice soft as if sad for him.
“It’s fine. No one really wants to see Ella marry Brian. Me included,” he grumbled. “Of course, Chris was probably the most sour-faced. He’d wanted to come with me.”
“Right. He has the hots for Jesse’s sister, huh?”
“Looks that way, but it’s probably better if he doesn’t see her again anytime soon. Even if Rory decides to settle down in New Orleans, I just don’t want that big teddy bear to get his heart broken.” A.J. squeezed her ass cheek, then brought his hand over her hip and to her center. He crooked a finger between her legs.
“You know, I thought we were having panic-sex last week, but that’s not what it was,” she said after drawing her lip between her teeth and bucking her hips against his palm while he touched her. “Not distraction-sex, either.”
“And what would you call it?” he asked, his voice husky, laced with love.
“Exactly what I need,” she rasped, eyes connecting with his. “Just you and nothing between us.”
“Is that so?” He scooted closer and slid his finger deep inside her, and she parted her legs, a request for a lot more of him than just his hand, and he’d be happy to oblige.
“You know, I’ve got a list running in my head right now,” he said while positioning her onto her back before he lowered himself over her, framing her body between his muscular thighs.
“Oh do you now?” Her eyes glinted with passion. “Taking after me, I see.”
“I think this is a list you’ll like.” He brought himself closer to her, positioning his tip near her wet pussy. “But I’d rather show you than tell you.”
She smiled, her white teeth flashing. “Now, Alexander James, I like the way you think.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Just Outside Birmingham, Alabama
“I can’t believe you blew up Black Beauty,” Grant grumbled for the tenth time in as many minutes. “I mean . . . my truck, I wouldn’t care, but damn, A.J.” Grant leaned against his truck, the one A.J. borrowed last week, and shook his head. The poor guy did look upset. “And you really can’t tell me how my bike got destroyed?”
They were standing in the driveway of the main house at his parents’ ranch waiting to head over to Ella and Brian’s rehearsal dinner, and A.J. was feeling the heat. In more ways than one.
He squeezed the back of his neck as Grant removed his aviator shades and pinned him with dark brown eyes, trying to get a read on him. “Yeah, so there was this guy, uh, shooting at me, and well, shit, you know how fast those kinds of situations can go south,” he rambled and peered at his buddy with what he hoped was a look of apology.