Page 101 of Guarded from Treachery

Oh.

“Yes,” I reply through a thickening throat. “Anything you want. Anything.”

Her eyes are steady on mine. “Then I want to go home. And spend our day like you said. Playing our games. Spending time with our friends. Being with you.”

To her mother, she adds, “And we’ll talk. Okay? Maybe next time, you can come to Blade and Arrow to see where I live.”

Her mother blinks. Tears shine in her eyes. “I would love that.”

As police cars and ambulances come flying into the parking lot, sirens and lights blaring, Isla snuggles into my chest, giving me most of her weight. My arms tighten around her instinctively, and I’m not sure when I’ll be willing to let go of her again.

“I knew you’d come,” she whispers. “You always do.”

Oh.

Tears burn in my eyes. “Always, Isles. I willalwayscome for you.”

21

ISLA

Idon’t think there’s anything better in the world than this.

Sleeping in on a Saturday, with no alarms or schedules to keep or upcoming tasks niggling in the back of my head. Just laying in bed with the man I love, waking up as the morning sun filters through the curtains, casting a golden glow on Matt’s features, soft and relaxed as he sleeps.

Snuggling close to Matt as I rouse from sleep, resting my cheek on his firm chest, breathing in his familiar scent that always makes me feel like I’m home. Feeling his arm wrapped around me, a strong and comforting reminder that even in sleep, he’s protecting me.

I love seeing him so peaceful, the stresses of his job a distant thought, looking so much younger than his forty years. When we’re in bed together, his guards are completely down, and I love knowing I’m the only person he allows himself to be so vulnerable with.

The quiet part of the morning is special. When it’s just me and Matt enjoying each other. When everything else is pushed to the side, at least for a little while.

After months of stress and anxiety and fear, this time with Matt is a balm that helps me heal.

Then, once we’re closer to wakefulness than slumber, our morning becomes more sensual. Matt’s hands will wander, his touch feather-light as he caresses my breasts and stomach and legs. His lips move down my neck and along my collarbone, leaving a trail of electricity in their wake. And as my arousal grows more intense, he dips his fingers between my thighs, stroking and teasing as he brings me dangerously close to the edge.

He’s not the only one who takes an opportunity to play. On these lazy mornings, I take my turn bringing Matt pleasure, too. I nuzzle his neck, lingering at that sensitive spot below his jaw. I wrap my hand around his velvety heat, making that little move I know he loves, feeling him grow harder and thicker in my grasp.

Some mornings, I crawl down the bed and take him into my mouth, drawing out his arousal until he’s fisting the sheets trying to keep from finishing right then and there.

He could. I wouldn’t mind. But Matt likes to be inside me at that moment of completion, the aftershocks of my ecstasy bringing him to his own.

As my belly gets bigger—not big, not at only twenty-two weeks, but definitely noticeable—we’ve started experimenting with different positions. Side-by-side, with Matt’s big body spooned around mine. Me on top, straddling him, gazing down at his incredible expanse of muscles. And me on my hands and knees as he enters me from behind, his hands gently supporting me.

This morning we settled into my favorite position, with me riding him, which I love because we can look at each other the entire time. I can watch his cheeks turn a ruddy pink, not from embarrassment but from hunger. I can watch as his eyes turn from milk to dark chocolate, molten with desire. And I can see the love in his eyes, a reflection of how I feel for him.

Afterwards, we always cuddle, staying joined together for as long as possible. When our separation finally becomes inevitable, Matt insists on me staying in bed while he cleans us up. Then he makes coffee and brings it back to bed—full caffeine for him and half-and-half for me.

I almost worry that I’m getting spoiled. But like Matt says whenever I mention it, “I’ve never had anyone to spoil before, Isles. It makes me happy to take care of you.”

How can I argue with that? Especially when I love taking care of him, too?

As I wait for Matt to come back from the kitchen, I grab his old Army T-shirt from the bottom of the bed and pull it on, enjoying the feel of well-worn fabric against my skin. It still carries his scent, a comforting aura wrapping around me.

According to the clock on the bedside table, it’s just past nine AM, which means we still have three hours of lounging before we have to get ready to head into San Antonio for the day. Blythe and Sawyer—sorry, I can’t bring myself to call him Squirrel—are having a barbeque at their place and the San Antonio crew is going to be there, along with all of the B and A team.

I’m excited about going; meeting some of the people I’ve only heard about until now, like Cruz and his wife, Mickie, and Quint, who used to be Cole’s partner before Blade and Arrow even started. And I’m looking forward to doing something social with Matt. Not that I minded staying at Blade and Arrow all the time before—I knew it was necessary, and with Matt and his teammates here, it wasn’t a hardship—but this is nice, too.

In the two weeks since everything went down with Peter, life has slowly been getting back to normal. But Matt wasn’t too thrilled about me leaving B and A right away, and honestly, I wasn’t feeling that great about it in the beginning, myself. The first time Matt took me into Seguin to the grocery store, I almost had a mini-panic attack as my brain conjured up all sorts of terrible scenarios. Peter escaping from jail. A secret partner of Day’s coming after me. Or something completely unrelated, like a car accident or a tornado.

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