Tied Up in Knots (Marshals 3)

Or not. Hard to say until I opened my mouth and told him.

“M?”

I coughed softly and looked at his face, and man… he was all rumpled and sleep-tousled and a little bleary and open and trusting and I really didn’t want that to change.

His grin curled his lip mischievously. “I think I know what it is.”

I grimaced. “I don’t think you do.”

“I think you wanna feel me deep inside,” he said gruffly, and the sound of him sent a caressing ripple through my body that made me catch my breath. “Oh yeah, you want me bad,” he said, rolling over on top of me.

“Yes,” I husked, eyes drifting closed as I lifted for his kiss. “And Craig Hartley is out of prison.”

After a moment, I realized that he wasn’t moving and the kiss was not forthcoming. Opening my eyes, I found all semblance of languor erased from my man, replaced by a glare that could have split a tree.

“Now wait.”

He climbed off me and scrambled over the side of the bed.

“Ian.”

“Are you kidding me?”

I groaned and grabbed the pillow, covering my face.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Oh that was loud.

“Jesus fucking Christ!”

I should have led with Hartley.

“For fuck’s sake, Miro!” His roar probably rattled the house. “Craig Hartley is out of prison and you’re just getting around to telling me now?”

I moaned into the pillow that smelled like him, and so, yes, I was in trouble, but… he was home. My heart was still dancing around, and nothing he could do would change it.

“How dare you not—Miro!” he bellowed, stealing the pillow from me only to smack me first in the abdomen with it and then in the head.

I tried really hard not to smile, but it came out anyway, which got me another smack in the face. “Owww, you shit,” I griped, laughing.

“It’s not funny!”

I heard it in his voice then, the fear and sadness, and saw it on his face when I looked up at him.

He was stricken with dread.

“I was so happy,” I entreated, reaching for his hand, easing him close, kissing his knuckles, his fingers, rubbing them over my stubble-covered cheek. “You were home and I lost my mind, I missed you so much, and then you just showed up and… Ian… baby….”

He came down on top of me, grabbing me tight, and crushed me to his rock-hard chest, hugging me so tight I was afraid he’d compressed my lungs. But only for a second. Because in the next instant, the warmth of him engulfed me, seeped all the way down to my soul where my fear of Hartley lived, and washed calm into every dark corner.

“I should have been here,” he said, the words painful as they tumbled out, suffused with regret. “Miro… forgive me.”

I turned my head; my cheek wedged against his shoulder, and sighed in pleasure as I closed my eyes, more content than I could remember being in so very long. I wrapped him in my arms and squeezed, loving the feel of him, his strength and heat. “Nothing to forgive,” I vowed, exhaling deeply. “You’re here now.”

“I am.”

“Try and stay a little while, okay?”

“Wild horses and all that,” he got out.

I really hoped he was right.

We stayed that way, wrapped around each other, tangled arms and legs, breathing together until I drifted off again. When my eyes fluttered open, I realized he was on the phone with someone, and after listening a moment, caught that it was Kage.

Ian patted his chest and I moved over and draped myself over him, loving the feel of his warm, sleek skin, the slight slick of faint scars, a dapple of rough on smooth that I could feel under my fingertips as I traced over his ribs.

“So they think he’s where, sir?”

The steady beat of Ian’s heart lulled me back to sleep so fast I didn’t even realize I had passed out until I woke up under him.

“Crap, I’m sorry.” I yawned, stretching.

“No more sorry. We’re done with sorry,” he said, his smile lazy and beautiful.

“Please don’t go anywhere,” I said before I thought about it.

“I hate that I’m here and all you can say is don’t go.”

I nodded because he was right, that was shitty. “I should get up.”

“No, you shouldn’t.”

“Ian, I—Ian!” He tackled me when I sat up, shoving me back down on the bed, and climbed on top of me, straddling my hips so any movement was out of the question. “What’re you—”

“I’m not going, I’m staying, do you understand?”

I nodded because my voice deserted me.

He bent and kissed me, and I felt it, my heart fluttering around in my chest like a caged bird ready to fly, wanting out, needing to go to Ian, always with Ian.

“I love you so much,” I whispered, the hurricane inside so much like anger that I had to make sure my words didn’t come out before I thought about each one. I was afraid if I vented my soul he’d find out how close to an ultimatum I truly was. Having him with me, knowing he could leave again, was almost as bad as him being gone. When they became truly equal, I wondered what would happen, and just thinking about that was terrifying.