Code Name Sentinel (Jameson Force Security 2)

Holy shit.

He just pulled me right out of a murder investigation.

Gave me a free pass for killing that man.

Barrett gapes at me in stunned silence a moment before slowly turning to her uncle. His eyes stay locked on me, though, and his voice is rough with emotion. “Cruce… that’s twice you’ve gone above and beyond for me. First, you saved my life, then you saved Barrett’s. I can never repay you, but if you think of any way I can—”

“You already did, sir,” I say with a nod of my head. He’d just absolved me of murder. “We’re absolutely even.”

The president reaches out, then touches his fingers to Barrett’s cheek. They share an exchanged look of love and gratitude. He then smiles before pivoting on his foot to walk away.

Grinning, Kynan winks before following the president.

Together, Barrett and I watch the bustle of federal and state authorities swarming the estate. I reach down, gently take her hand.

Barrett pins me with a soft, questioning smile.

“Let’s go find transport to D.C. so we can get you a burger and some onion rings,” I suggest.

Her smile notches up to mega-wattage. “Sounds like the best plan I’ve ever heard.”CHAPTER 25BarrettI come awake slowly, smiling as I stretch my body. It’s been three days since Cruce rescued me. The first thing I do upon conscious awareness of each new day is smile. I’m so grateful I’m alive and in bed next to the man who has quickly become my everything.

Blinking my eyes, I take him in.

He’s on his back, hands tucked behind his head as he stares at my ceiling. Of course he’s awake, because he always rises before me. Which concerns me, because he’s not been sleeping well. Restless, tossing and turning. He’ll wake up, lean over me, and watch me in the dark. Sometimes, he touches my face. I don’t let him know I’m awake.

I drag my eyes down Cruce’s body. His chest is naked, but I know he has on his boxers under the sheet he has pulled up to his waist. There’s a bandage over his wound under his left clavicle, a painful reminder of all he went through to save me.

He hasn’t tried to make a move on me once, either too worried about how I’ll react or simply because he’s not attracted to me anymore. Maybe what we had built during those precious island days wasn’t real. Heightened by stress and danger, perhaps we’d bonded over things that weren’t grounded in reality, which maybe weren’t strong enough to last in normal life.

Reaching a hand out, I move to place it on his chest. For a moment, I’m distracted by the scabbed wounds on my wrist. They feel fine, but they sure are ugly. They’re going to leave permanent marks, so I’ve decided to just accept them as battle scars and leave them as a good reminder of what I can survive.

“Hey,” I murmur when he doesn’t react to my touch. Just a few days ago, this would have bothered me so much I would have withdrawn. I might not have even had the guts to reach out and touch him, too worried I might be rejected.

But that was the old Barrett who was stuck in a lab working scientific mojo for the greater good. New Barrett had survived kidnapping and torture, and I’m not waiting around to see what life may or may not hand me.

Cruce rolls his head until his eyes lock with mine. His lips curve slightly as he takes me in. “Morning.”

I scoot over to him, then put my head on his good shoulder and drape my arm over his stomach. His arm comes around me, holding me close.

Yes, he cares for me. He’s never hesitated to show it in any respect since he walked me out of Munford’s house. He’s held me close, hugged me, and sweetly kissed me. He’s done everything but touch me in the ways I want to be touched.

While in bed with him on Marjorie Island just days ago, I remember wanting to touch him. Dreaming I’d touched him, then making it real.

I shift my arm, sliding my hand over his abdomen and edging it farther south. Cruce tenses and holds his breath while my fingers creep under the sheet.

They move under the elastic band of his boxers, travel through the trimmed, crisp hairs, and right to his cock. Just like I did all those days ago when I’d started all this between us.

Cruce’s breath slides out of his mouth in a sigh as I wrap my hand around him. When I tip my head back to look at him, his eyes are closed, bottom teeth dug down into his lip.

I squeeze… stroke.

He groans.

“Feel good?” I ask.

His eyes pop open, travel down to stare for just a moment, then I’m flat on my back and he’s on top of me. Mouth on mine, one hand at the nape of my neck and the other at my hip. His erection is pressed solidly between my legs, and I drown in his kiss as I hang onto his shoulders.