Page 133 of What About Love

Her head tilted back, for a moment studying him from where her cheek rested on his chest. “It’s not too soon?”

“Too soon? We’ve been playing cat and mouse for months. I’m not dicking around this time, little bit. You’ll have a ring on your finger by tomorrow and my collar around your throat the next time we go to the club.”

“A collar?” Her fingers moved to her throat, stroking lightly as she imagined how that would feel.

“Absolutely. It will tell everyone, especially Durand and Ogilvie, who you belong to.”

“You have no reason to be worried. Arturo was nice, but—and I’m not proud of this—I was using him.”

“I know you were, as did he in the end.”

“And Dan is a big brother to me, nothing more.”

“Also, something I know.” He picked up her hand lying flat on his chest near her cheek and began gently nibbling her fingers. “It’s not you I’m worried about. I’m making suretheyknow you are mine.”

Six months ago, that statement would have made her see red. Now, it made her feel wanted, cherished, and she didn’t mind in the least. A barrage of questions swirled in her head, but one stood out the most as her hand rose to her throat.

“A collar?”

“In the club it’s expected, baby. You know that.”

“I do, but I was thinking I wouldn’t mind a choker like Joanna’s?”

“A public collar?” He stopped nibbling and pressed a kiss to her palm. “That would please the fuck out of me, but are you sure? Vanillas won’t know for certain, but might ask.”

“I’m sure. I love you, T, as my dominant, or...” She searched for the right label.

“Fiancé is the word you’re searching for. That’s already decided. We’re getting married.”

She gave him a watery smile, her eyes dropping to the stark white bandage standing out brightly against his olive skin. “I thought I’d lost you again when you were shot. I was scared out of my mind. Do you do those kinds of missions often?”

“They’re becoming less frequent, but I won’t lie and say that others won’t come up.”

She considered that for a moment; a former cop and daughter of a military man, she knew risks came with the territory. “Do you think Cap would mind if I limited my badass commando field work? My skills are better suited for problem-solving and detective work anyway. That’s why I didn’t join the SWAT team.”

He nodded, apparently in full agreement. “He’ll get over it, especially after Megan hears he dragged her favorite cousin along on this mission. She’s small, and he clearly wears the pants, but that doesn’t mean she won’t give him shit about it.”

“Yeah, Megan’s tongue is laser sharp when she gets riled.”

“Not a family trait, I hope.”

“You’ve seen me riled more than once. What do you think?”

He shrewdly didn’t answer. “As your future husband, let me say, I won’t mind if you never play decoy for another serial killer—fucking ever—or camp out in a tree at midnight in godforsaken Central America with bullets flying around your head. My heart can’t take it.”

“A bullet didn’t come anywhere near my head. That was you. And I didn’t say I was giving it all up, only the commando missions. To be honest, I was curious about what a black op would be like. Now that I’ve been on one, the bloom is off the rose, if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, although you felt the adrenaline rush, didn’t you?”

“More like I was ready to pee my pants.”

The vibrations from his answering chuckle transferred from his chest to hers, and from his mouth that was a whisper away.

“I heard you breathing, baby. I know you were scared. Let me clue you in to something no one else is likely to share. We all were. No matter how many ops we run, we’d be foolish not to be and that would make us dangerous.” He scooted down on the pillow and rolled to his good side, his body pushing her to her back. “I’m proud of you. All the guys are. That brings me to one more point we needed to discuss.”

“What’s that?” she asked, her hand coming up and stroking his handsome face.

“You still can’t shoot for shit.”

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