Fit to be Tied (Marshals 2)

I watched him, appreciating the strong lines of his frame, the T-shirt he was wearing clung to his broad shoulders and the sculpted muscles in his back and biceps. The faded jeans hugged his lean hips, ass and long, powerful legs. My breath caught as I stared because yes, I knew all about his heart and that made me love him, but the body on the man made my pulse race.

He turned at the sound I made and the smile lit his face.

A throb of arousal rolled through me and I was so glad that everything still worked. Responding to Ian in such a primal way, a physical way, made me feel like me again.

“He’s awake,” he said into the phone, “I have to go, but I’ll send my report later tonight.” And with that he ended the call before crossing the room quickly to me.

I lifted a hand toward him and he took it gently when he reached me, bending to kiss my knuckles before leaning in further to kiss me.

The need for more was instantaneous but he pulled back to look at my face. I wanted him closer, on me, in me… and that was new. Not that I had never thought about Ian topping before but for whatever reason, at the moment, the idea was almost overwhelming for how much I needed him to.

“What’s going on?” I tried to ask, but my voice wasn’t working all that well.

“I think you need some water,” he concluded, turning to the pitcher on the nightstand to the left of him. He filled the cup with the straw and made sure I could drink easily, watching me intently. I drank slowly, and when I’d had enough, I leaned back and cleared my throat.

“Hi,” I said hoarsely, smiling at him.

“Hi back,” he sighed, trailing his fingers through my hair, pushing it off my forehead, over and over, languorously, seemingly content to do nothing more.

“Who was on the phone?”

“Kage. I’ve been giving him hourly updates.”

“Is he mad? I bet he’s mad.”

“Yeah, I don’t see either one of us—or anyone who works for him—on a FBI or DEA task force in the near future. Only ops we run that are secure.”

Ian had shaved, and his hair in its usual tapered crewcut was no longer standing on end. He still looked beat, but he was smiling rakishly at me, the lines in the corners of his eyes were crinkling and his lip was curled dangerously, and listening to him talk, with the rumbling growl, was making my body heat. Oh, I needed to heal faster.

“M?”

I cleared my throat. “Yeah, but no op is completely secure. Even when we’re in charge of them, shit can happen.”

“I wouldn’t try and play devil’s advocate with Kage right now. He’s kind of pissed at everybody and you don’t want to be on his list.”

“Point taken,” I agreed, taking hold of the hem of his T-shirt, tugging just a little so he moved closer. “So tell me what happened to Hartley.”

Instant scowl. “He was gone when the FBI got to the place where you were held.”

“There were others guys. Did they get them?”

“Everybody was dead when they went in.”

“Oh shit.”

“But we figured that, right? I mean, Hartley, he’s not the forgiving type, and they let you get away. They were dead the second you went out the door.”

It was true.

“What about Wojno?”

“He wasn’t there.”

“Okay. So what’s the next—”

“Enough,” he said gruffly. “There’s marshals and the FBI and the state police and Phoenix PD all out looking for Hartley and Wojno. You and I can’t do shit about that.”

“Yeah, but—”

“I don’t wanna waste time talking about them. I have something else to say.”

Whatever it was couldn’t be good, from his irritated expression, the squint, the frown, and the clenched jaw. “Okay.”

He took a breath. “You gotta marry me.”

It took me a moment, because even though I’d heard him, and what he was saying was amazing, I was also very concerned that he’d lost his mind. “I’m sorry?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he grumbled, moving his hand to my cheek, stroking over my skin. “But listen, there were decisions that had to be made about you.”

My throat hurt and my mouth was dry, but I was afraid to ask for another sip of water because I didn’t want him to stop talking.

“And they had to get in touch with Aruna,” he said, his voice cracking just a bit. “I was right here, but what I thought, nobody gave a shit about.”

I nodded.

“You want another drink?”

“Yeah,” I croaked.

He poured more water for me, then maneuvered the end of the straw to my lips and watched as I took several sips. Taking a breath after he replaced it on my nightstand, he slipped his hand into mine.

“So will you?”

Could he have looked any more miserable?

“M?”

I chuckled softly. “Listen, I know you were scared, but—”