Afterlife (35 page)

of submissive who would have left

her husband because he

wasn’t a Dom. Al she truly needed

was to be loved. If he

could have accepted what she was,

and how that could

manifest itself in a vanil a

relationship, they would have had

a chance. Instead, Rachel Madison

was beaten down and

plain terrified of trusting another man

with her heart.

Al of which might suggest he should

move slow, take the

relationship on a lazy ride before he

pushed her where he

intended to take her. However, his

intuition told him

differently. While he didn’t always

abandon common sense

in the face of eerie coincidence, he

couldn’t deny the

similarities. The two married and

one almost-married K&A

men had al known their chosen

women for a certain

number of months beforehand, as he

had with Rachel. But

because of their unique

circumstances, once each man set

his sights on her and fired the first

shot, so to speak, he’d

had to close the deal within an

extremely short time frame.

Savannah, in the course of one night.

Cassie, twenty-four

hours. For Dana, it had been three

days.

While his and Rachel’s

circumstances didn’t define the

timeline quite so precisely, he knew

Rachel wasn’t at a

point she could endure the usual

seesaw of a relationship’s

development. And if he was being

honest, maybe that was

why the urgency had as much to do

with his feelings as

hers. He wouldn’t tolerate the stress

that could cause her,

the doubt and fears, based on her past

history. Jon knew

what he wanted, and he was wil ing

to use the “shock and

awe” tactics Peter had referenced to

help her believe it. He

wanted her to make that leap toward

him, away from what

had been and into what he could offer

her now. What he

would
offer her. So instead of hiding from the truth, he’d

convince her she could take shaky

steps down that road,

her hand firmly in his every step of

the way.

He already had a plan in mind, but it

would take some

coordination. Luckily, he knew

where he could find help.

Sliding out of bed near dawn’s light,

he tucked the covers

around her exhausted body and went

out onto her balcony.

Opening his phone, Jon pressed

Peter’s number. The

obsessive bastard was the only one

he knew for certain

would be up and doing his morning

workout by sunrise. At

one time, Lucas would have been up

and biking ten miles

before work, a mild workout for him,

but since Cass was

legal guardian of her younger

siblings, his mornings were

usual y a bit more chaotic these days.

“Yeah.” Peter’s voice was pitched

low, and Jon’s brow

rose.

“What? Dana isn’t doing a triathlon

with you before

breakfast?”

“She had an exhausting evening.”

Despite his other concerns, Jon had

to smile at the tone

of a sated predator in Peter’s voice.

“Is your fiancée acting

out again?”

“When is she not? I think she likes

doing that.”

“Only because you punish her for it.

Have you ever

considered getting her a driver who

doesn’t remind her so

much of you?”

“Why do you think I have him drive

her?” Peter’s wolfish

smile was as audible as the devotion

in his voice. “She

likes to keep me on my toes.”

“I’l say. You better give Max a good

bonus, though Lucas

wil make you take it straight out of

your check.” Jon leaned

a hip against the rail, grinned. “I

shudder to think of her idea

of a bachelorette party.”

“Thanks for that terrifying reminder.”

But Peter’s manner

changed then, became more sober.

Jon was sure he was

now gazing at his sleeping fiancée.

He was probably sitting

in his roomy recliner, stil in his

boxers but with his laptop

balanced on the arm while he

reviewed the overnight

reports from their Central American

plants.

“It’s her way of tel ing me she won’t

be considered

helpless, no matter how much I try to

take care of her.”

“Is she doing okay?” Jon knew that in

addition to physical

therapy, Dana was also in

psychotherapy to deal with the

PTSD and other emotional issues that

dogged a soldier

who’d experienced such a traumatic

injury. His question

was twofold, for that journey had

affected Peter as wel , who

understood it both from the

perspective of a fel ow veteran

but also as the significant other who

helped her through the

night terrors, depression and other

chal enges.

“Yeah. Lots better in fact. She’s

come a long way, Jon.”

There was pride now, and it

reassured Jon to hear it enter

his friend’s voice. “She’s tough as

nails, but don’t tel her I

said so. She’s much feistier when she

thinks I consider her

a porcelain dol .”

“You do consider her a porcelain dol

. She knows you’d

wrap her up in cotton if you did what

you wanted, instead of

what’s best for her. She’s a smart

lady.”

“She’s that and much more. But

Jesus, I hadn’t even

thought about a fucking bachelorette

party…”

Jon chuckled, but before he could say

anything further,

Peter changed the subject. “This isn’t

why you cal ed. Dana

fil ed me in on some other things.

Pisses me off and breaks

my heart that someone messed Rachel

up that way. She

deserves a lot better. You know she

refuses to put down her

physical therapy fee for bil ing when

she treats a vet, even

though the VA covers it? I know she

doesn’t have a lot of

money. I gave her grief about it and

she was stubborn as a

rock. Says it’s her personal way of

giving back.”

“I’m not surprised.” Though it made

Jon’s heart swel

even more toward the woman

sleeping two rooms away

from him. So strong and so fragile at

once.

“Tel me you’re cal ing because you

want some help.”

Peter’s voice, nudging him back to

the here and now.

“Because we’re there, whatever you

need.”

“Yeah, read my mind.”

“As usual. What are you thinking?”

Jon spent the next few moments

laying it out with Peter,

planning for a few contingencies.

When they were done,

Peter had promised to handle the

coordination with Ben,

Lucas and Matt. It freed up Jon’s

morning so that he could

focus whol y on Rachel.

His anticipation of that was another

reminder that the

timetable in his head might be driven

by his own feelings as

much as her needs. He’d told Shel ey

to shut off the feed

the moment Dana and Max had

arrived at her door, and

once she’d fal en asleep tonight, he’d

removed the

cameras, tucked them back in his

overnight. Looking at her

sleeping in his arms, he’d known he

wouldn’t be leaving her

side again, not until she’d recognized

he was her Master

now.

Rachel might have to battle fears and

doubts for some

time, as Peter had indicated Dana stil

did, but unlike Dana,

Rachel didn’t yet truly understand

and accept she’d never

have to fight them alone again. Until

she did, he’d resolved

he wasn’t abandoning her to the

demons in her soul, even if

he had to take her to work and keep

her chained to his

desk.

His mouth tugged in a wry smile at

himself. It didn’t take

long to rouse the Neanderthal in a so-

cal ed enlightened

man. Al it took was the right woman.

After he laid his phone on the glass-

topped patio table,

he braced his hands on the balcony

rail, enjoying the

sunrise. She had a tranquil corner

here. When he’d

commanded her to clean up her place

as wel as make him

dinner, she’d understood there were

two layers to his order,

that he wasn’t being a horse’s ass

about tidiness. As soon

as he’d stepped into the apartment,

he’d noted the

difference in the space from his first

visit here. Despite her

sensual agitation, he’d felt the core of

who Rachel real y

was, evident in the atmosphere. Yes,

she hid here,

probably far too often, but she drew

strength from this place

as wel . If he did what he should,

balanced his own needs

with his Master’s understanding of

hers, he’d make that

fulcrum shift to him.

So first things first. Calm the inner

Neanderthal. Offering

the universe another rueful smile, he

stepped to the middle

of the balcony and started to center

his mind, focusing on

his breathing. Once in the proper

mindset, he started a set

of sun salutation repetitions. He had

his palms in a prayer

mudra
over his head, his body

grounded firmly through the

soles of his feet, when he knew he

wasn’t alone.

“I do that every morning,” she said,

her sleep-husky voice

stroking him. “Right where you’re

standing.”

“Come join me then,” he invited.

Adjusting his position so

she could step out next to him, he was

pleased to see she

wore his shirt. Though she’d buttoned

it so it modestly

covered her thighs, the couple open

buttons at the neckline

showed a pleasing line of cleavage.

She’d rol ed up the

sleeves.

“Hope you don’t mind,” she said

with a shy smile he

found altogether appealing. More so

than the shadows and

worries lingering behind it. In

answer, he brought his lifted

arms down around her, drew her

close so she leaned into

his body for the deep, sun-soaked

morning kiss. Then he

held her for a few minutes, asking

nothing, demanding

nothing, but that she hold him back.

“When I first woke up, I thought you

were a dream. The

best dream ever.” Her lips moved

against his bare chest.

“Then I got up, and my body told me

I’d been dragged

behind a truck.”

He chuckled. “Complaining?”

“Hardly.” Lifting her head, she gazed

up at him. “Though

I’m completely out of my element

here.”

“On the contrary. Everything I saw

last night said you’ve

been out of your natural element for

far too long.”

She slid her fingers up to her bare

throat, worried at it.

“You took it off. The col ar.”

“Yes, I did. While you were

sleeping.” He touched her

there. Her tremble, the desire behind

it, sent a spike of hard

need through his chest, his groin. He

kept his voice mild,

however. “You remember how I

invited you to join me for

that Tantric Yoga seminar?”

At her nod, he continued, “The chain,

the clit piece, al of

it was designed to give you a

prolonged sexual build, so

that by the time I got here, it wouldn’t

cross your mind that

you couldn’t climax. You were

focused on pleasing me, on

containing your release until I gave

you permission to

climax. And when you did climax,

where did you experience

it?”

“Everywhere.” It came to her lips

without thought or

analysis. She closed her hands ful y

on his waist, fingers

sliding along his hips. Her most

innocent touch could stir his

cock, and he knew her body needed a

rest, no matter that

she would serve him until she

dropped. He settled his

hands on her wrists, stil ing her.

“Though the sexual component is

only a part of Tantra,

the belief is that an orgasm should

come from al parts of

the body, not merely the sex organs.

However, if I had to do

it over again, knowing what I know

now about you,” he slid

his fingers into the spaces between

hers, twining them

together as he brought her closer,

enjoying the press of her

breasts through his shirt, the brush of

her bare thighs

against his in his snug boxers, “I

wouldn’t be so heavy-

handed. Al I needed to achieve the

same result was that

col ar.”

Releasing her hands, he slid his arms

under hers,

hooking his hands on her shoulders