Page 104 of Defenders of Jawhara

Slade nodded and shook Brock’s hand. “Just make sure they’re clean. You know how I hate surprises.”

Brock walked Slade to the courtyard and his car—a Tesla he had waiting for him. Before Slade got in the car, he tipped his sunglasses down and gave a final look around.

"I have to admit. I’ve always been against operatives being in relationships with each other—too messy when things go south, if you ask me—but Talib and PJ look like they can make it work, so who knows…” He shrugged. “Maybe there’s hope for the two of you. Assuming you can talk her into staying with your sorry self.”

Pushing his glasses back up, Slade got in the car, and Brock watched him drive away. Then it hit him. “Son of a gun, he knew we liked each other all along.” Shaking his head, he headed inside, thinking about Keira staying in Jawhara with him. Would she go for it? He knew only one way to find out.

He found her in her bathroom, just finishing a shower, a Turkish towel wrapped around her. He slipped up behind her and covered her eyes with one hand. “Guess who?”

She turned around. “Uh…Santa Claus?”

“Close enough.” He took her hand and tugged her with him to the bed. Pulling her against him, he kissed the very breath from her. She dropped her towel, but he stepped back and shook his head. “Not yet.”

“Why not?” She crossed her arms. “You’ve had second thoughts? The job is done, so we’re done?”

He grabbed her hand, kissing her palms. “Will you stop jumping the gun? Dammit, I’m trying to tell you something.”

She grabbed his collar. “Tell me in bed. After.” Drawing him with her, she stepped back and fell onto the bed. He had no choice but to go with her or lose his shirt.

He had no problem with either of those things. He lost his shirt anyway. She stripped it off of him. He took off the rest of his clothes himself.

Keira propped herself on an elbow. “Why do guys always take off their socks last?”

“It’s so we can get our shoes on fast and run if we need to. Now where was I?”

“I think you left off kissing my right breast.”

“Better start with the left one, then.” He lowered himself onto her and lost himself in her scent, her warmth, and her kisses. Slipping into her felt like coming home. He gave himself up to her—to loving her.

He spent his time stroking her skin, touching her, making her shiver. He loved how her eyes darkened, her pupils blowing wide. He put his lips on her, licked her, and nibbled on her—he couldn’t get enough. She pushed him onto his back and rode him hard until his breath came in gasps and his skin was slick with sweat.

Pulling her off him, he put her on her knees, came in from behind, pushing deep. She gave a groan and he put a hand on her back. Her ass tucked up against him, and he could see a small butterfly tattooed on one cheek. How had he not noticed that before? He gave her ass a slap. She wiggled and begged for another. He put two more pink marks on her—marking her as his and letting her know he was never letting her go. He slapped again and she came with a shout, her hips bucking. He held onto her, pushing deep, pounding hard.

“Yessss,” she said, and gave another moan. Pulling out of her, he flipped her, pushed her down on the bed, pinning her wrists. He fit his mouth to one nipple and sucked hard. She groaned and spread her legs wider. He pushed into her with one sharp thrust. She was so hot, so wet. Slowing his speed, he pulled out and pushed in slow, until she was writhing under him, twisting, her skin gleaming and hot and begging for more.

Three orgasms later—two of them hers, one his—he rolled off of her and pulled her close. “You are one greedy girl.”

She nodded and walked her fingers over his chest. “Better believe it, sailor.”

He grinned. “That first night when I rescued you, I knew you were special. You weren’t just a damsel in distress…you were made for me.”

She sat up and leaned over him, her hair brushing his chest. “That was five years ago. Why are you bringing it up now?”

“Because you’ve been on my mind all these years, that’s why.” Keira punched him in the gut. “Ow! What was that for?”

She punched him again. “For waiting five years to tell me. For avoiding me for five years! For being overprotective.” She punctuated each sentence with another punch, each one a little less hard than the previous. “Why now?”

He couldn’t quite read her expression, but there was a flurry of emotion behind her eyes. Grabbing her hand before she could hit him again, he kissed her palm as he spoke. “Because I’m an idiot for ignoring a good woman when I meet her. Because it took being here and seeing Talib and PJ together to realize that relationships for people like us really can work. And because I’d really like you to stay here in Jawhara. With me. Slade says the sheikh likes the idea of couples working together. What do you think about being a couple? With me, that is.”

She stared at him—she didn’t even blink. The breath caught in his chest. What if this was something she didn’t want? What if this had just been a fling for her? What if she wanted the travel and the excitement of the next job? Well, dammit, if she did, he’d just have to change her mind. Or he could change his.

He caught her face between both his hands. “You make me happy, Keira. I thought I could soldier my way through to not wanting you. But I do want you—bad enough to put everything on the line for you. I figure I won’t leave you behind, and you don’t leave me behind, and maybe we can make it work. We’re too good a team not to make this work. Personally, as well as professionally.”

She started to shake her head. Brock rolled with her so she lay under him. He trapped her with his arms. “I was going to wait to do this, and yes, I know it’s ridiculously too soon, but I’m saying it anyway. Marry me. Have kids with me.”

“Kids?” Keira asked, the word pushed out with a shocked breath. Her face paled.

“Yeah, I figure we should give the future princes and princesses some friends who can grow up as bodyguards for them. What do you say? And please, say something to put me out of my misery. Your silence is killing me.”

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