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  Everything except the seed that pummeled at his balls now, ready for its rocketing release. Still, he held back. Her skin was so slick and wet and tight around his, as if her body were made to welcome him. He tried rocking a little slower, focusing on the pleasure that gleamed all over her flawless body. For a few seconds here and a few seconds there, it worked. He was able to forget about the pressure that built like a bullet train, preparing to shoot from the station as soon as he punched the green light.

  By now, Zoe rolled her hips in time with his, meeting every thrust with a mewling grind of her own. “Shay,” she cried out, plowing her nails across his shoulders and locking her legs around his waist. “Oh, Shay…mas duro…sí!”

  He was pretty damn sure what that meant, and it made him grimace. “Baby girl, if I don’t pull out now—”

  “I know,” she countered. “I know, and I don’t care.”

  Fuck.

  He scraped both her hands off his shoulders. Used his grip on them to force her attention. “You have to care. We’re not sixteen. We’re not married.”

  She flung him a look he’d never seen on her face before. One brow arched along with a sexier-than-shit wiggle of her head. “So if I find you in a month and tell you I’m knocked-up, you’ll do…what?”

  He actually came to a full stop. The woman was either the smartest bird he’d ever met or the biggest brat. Or maybe both.

  Probably both.

  “Throw a fucking party. Then make sure I never let you out of my sight.”

  Her expression changed by one more element. The luscious little grin that spread across her lips, sparking the most breathtaking blend of blue and purple he’d ever seen in her eyes. “Then what are you waiting for?”

  He grabbed her by the neck, kissing her harder than ever. He’d always avoided talk of babies, even when they happened to other people. In his life, “family” wasn’t a word that brought fond memories of themed birthday parties and vacations at the lake. The species could propagate without his help. But now, thinking of Zoe with a little basketball belly, growing with his child…

  He plunged his tongue even deeper into her mouth. Claiming her had never felt more important.

  “Are you sure?” he murmured when they finally dragged apart.

  The woman had the gumption to roll her eyes. “You going to keep yakking at me, Sergeant, or are you going to do something better with that steel between my legs?”

  Goddamn. Her naughty mouth made his shaft feel like real steel. As he lunged up into her, reveling in her stunned gasp and arched neck, he snarled, “Like make you ride it, baby girl? Like this?”

  She cried out as he drove into her even deeper. “Sí, my Sir. Just…like— Ohhhh!”

  Forget the pretty adjectives. It was time to fuck his gorgeous little subbie. To drive her high and hard into the stratosphere of her pleasure until her walls converged on his cock and milked his seed deep into her body.

  Like so many other things in this unexpected explosion of their relationship, it was a bungee jump of faith. A wild belief in what could be. Another careen into crazy.

  In all the most perfect ways.

  * * *

  Where the hell had forty-eight hours gone?

  For the first time since he was a kid on summer break, time had been pressed into a strange mix of both the meaningless and monumental. The little things just didn’t seem to matter anymore, while the big stuff, like spending as much time as possible with his brother and Zoe, were now Shay’s hugest priorities.

  Because in every minute of those precious hours, he never forgot the price he paid for them.

  Conveniently, the monsters had left the tags on the merchandise. Every row of stiches was a fresh reminder that this escape wasn’t going to last forever. That the boys in the land of the thick black thread were hunting for him even now.

  He’d only go back to that hell in a body bag.

  Put the morbidity away, shithead. Enjoy the moment, remember? The sun is shining. The sky is blue. Your subbie is smiling, and you should be too.

  Dr. Seuss had to take a back burner too. Shay looked up to endure his brother’s sarcastic stare. He wasn’t sure if the reason for the eyeballing was good or bad, so he waited for Tait to wrap his call to Kaua'i and walk back over to the pool cabana that Dan and Oz had secured for their use during the afternoon.

  A victorious shriek from the plunge pool grabbed his attention. Ryder and Zoe were Ellie and Brynn’s opponents in a water volleyball game, and it looked like Zoe was ruling the action. Shay smiled at the joy on his subbie’s face. Though Dan and Ghid had decreed it was best for Zoe’s friends to stay here since their homes were likely still being watched, the edict had valuable residual benefits. Seeing her rested and content provided a glimpse into a future he was determined to fight for. To live for.

  Zoe spiked the ball over the net for another team point. Ryder whooped and high-fived her. As Zoe jumped to meet the move, sunshine and water gleamed across her body, clad in a pink bikini he loved and hated for all the same reasons. The thing was only held on her body by little string ties…

  Time to adjust the towel in his lap.

  As he slid the cover higher, he mandated himself to focus on something else. It was a damn good thing the Vdara had all these pools. Another that they were the only crowd at this one. The first time some douche ogled Zoe with the same intent that burned his mind right now, the guy would probably be without a dick.

  Sprawled on the cabana’s second lounger, Dan glanced at him and chuffed. “Fuck, man. Put us all out of your misery and make her throw on a T-shirt.”

  “Sure,” he sneered. “And that’ll make a difference…how?”

  Colton frowned. Shay would’ve laughed if his imagination weren’t on fire with the answer to that. Getting to the bikini top would be just as much a no-brainer for him if Zoe wore a T-shirt. As soon as he had her pretty tits free of the little pink triangles, he’d enjoy hardening her nipples right through the shirt’s fabric—with his tongue. Wouldn’t be long before he pulled the strings off the bottom of the suit, too. Then he’d slip inside her, taking her in a long, luxurious fuck that would give her at least three orgasms before he started pounding harder, and—

  “Well, Kell got home from training,” his brother announced, “and took a break from screwing our subbie in the rain in order to relay his asshat hello to everyone.”

  “Awww.” Dan smirked. Tait had updated the agent about his unique relationship status back on the island—ensuring that Dan ribbed him about it whenever the chance arose. “Is somebody dunking his head in a big ol’ barrel of oh-poor-me?”

  “Bite me,” Tait drawled.

  “No, thank you,” Dan quipped. “But maybe your brother’ll be up for the task.” He whacked a hand to his thigh. “Oh, damn. Wait. The only person he’s ‘up for’ these days is currently leading the spike count in the volleyball game.”

  Shay snorted. “And boy, do I have a celebration trophy for her.”

  Dan snickered. “Make sure she kisses it after she holds it up.”

  “She always does.”

  “Then you gonna show it off to T?”

  Tait glared while dropping into a chair and then adjusting the discomfort of his junk. “You done with your fun yet, Teabaggin’ Tex?”

  “Gah.” Shay threw the orange peel from his drink, hitting the center of T’s chest. “Dude, I can’t believe you reached for that one.”

  Tait laughed and tossed the fruit back. “I’ve had to step up my game. I think the SHRCs are going to petition for shit-slinging as an Olympic event.”

  Dan’s brows hunkered. “For the winter or summer games?”

  “Probably winter.” T took a sip of his own drink. His had a pineapple instead of an orange. “They could stick it in during lulls in the curling matches.”

  Shay rolled his eyes. “Isn’t curling one giant lull?”

  “You have a problem with curling?” The charge came from the cabana’s newest guest, a scow
ling Ghid. As usual, the man wore a dark T-shirt to completely shield his back, joined by black nylon shorts and a pair of flip-flops. “You know what kind of skills are required for that sport?”

  While Ghid grabbed a bottle of water from the mini fridge, Shay kicked his chortling brother in the shin. Hell. T of all people should be sympathizing with Ghid’s tension, misplaced this time to a rant about big stones, little brooms, and a lot of ice. Personally, Shay shared Tait’s point of view—a real sport usually involved protective gear and blood—but if Ghid wanted to bluster again about the guy he caught counting cards last night, he’d support it.

  Mom had missed her normal check-in call last night. Then again this morning.

  “Yo, Ghid.” Maybe a redirect was the best plan here. “It’s nearly ninety out here. That black shirt has to feel like a wool blanket. If you keep to the back of the tent, just shuck it and nobody will be the wiser.”

  Ghid sat in the chair next to Tait. The wicker creaked, not used to supporting over two hundred pounds of solid muscle. “Kid, half my blood once roamed across Africa. What makes you think this isn’t my idea of heaven?”

  Tait threw over a scowl. “Could’ve fooled the rest of us.”

  Shay didn’t hide the kick he dealt the dork this time. “Can you just zip it the hell up now?”

  “Sorry.” T took a sheepish drag of his drink before raising a sincere stare at Ghid. “She’ll call soon, dude. I know it.”

  The guy grunted and shrugged. “Meh. I’m just being a paranoid pussy. She’s got a lot to deal with right now, with everyone but Oliver, Nika, and Damian now at the compound.”

  Shay straightened. “Those are the three guys we couldn’t bust out of A-fifty-one with us?” Ghid held his gaze and nodded tightly. The guy’s eyes were touched with teal today because of his stress, but Shay also observed a warmer shade of understanding. He knew what it was like to feel almost a brother to a guy because your screams hit the same roofs.

  Shay nodded in return, giving Ghid his thanks even as he joined the guy in a silent promise to those three men. We’ll go back for you. We swear.

  “Right.” Tait submitted the assertion with empathy drawn on his face for Ghid. “I feel you, G. I want to talk to her again too.” He exhaled. “Fuck. I can’t wait to see her again.” He tossed his stare at Shay. “You think she’ll recognize me? I mean, I’m taller now. And cuter…”

  Shay joined Ghid and Dan in a round of disgusted groans. After that, silence took over the cabana. It seemed T’s humor had instigated deep thoughts for all four of them.

  After a couple of minutes, Ghid cocked his head. Shay could almost predict the question he’d pose but waited for the discomfort of it anyway.

  “You have any ideas about the beasties lurking in your CBC test, kid?”

  The man hadn’t let down his expectation. Shit.

  Shay started his response with a shrug. “I’ve never turned a weird color, howled at the moon, or grown to abnormal proportions.”

  Tait chuckled. “Except for that thing between your legs.”

  Shay’s pulse froze for a second. He pinned his brother with a stare. “You mean yours isn’t—”

  “What?”

  “The same…uhhh…”

  “You mean am I hung like a goddamn race horse? Apparently not. But I heard all about you from Sylvia Cooper. In excruciating, inch-by-inch detail.” Tait set down his drink, shaking with laughter. “Christ wept, brother. Are you blushing?”

  “Damn. I think he is,” Dan drawled.

  Ghid folded his arms and glowered. “Well, fuck. I get the backside of a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle, and he gets to be Babar the Elephant?”

  Shay whipped a glare of his own to Colton, who fully enjoyed the shared snicker with Tait. “Guess you’re happy now with Teabaggin’ Tex.”

  Though Ghid looked tempted to jump on that dig, he kept his regard fixed on Shay. “So that narrows things down to a list of critters on the…errrm…well-endowed side. Stop looking soggy as a Jane Austen novel, kid; I know you’ve been curious.”

  Shay pushed out a rebellious snort. So what if the guy was right? So what if curious only chipped the tip of the mental chaos he’d been dealing with in all this? So what if he felt like he’d been in a turbulent ocean already, only to be whammed by a goddamn tsunami? And so what if the only anchor he kept swimming to was a five-foot-three beauty he’d only met a week ago? Wilder shit had been known to happen to people, right?

  People.

  Yeah. And wasn’t that the bitch of things?

  He couldn’t validate even being a person anymore…even if he’d never felt more ecstatically, uniquely, a man.

  A cell phone started ringing. The look on Ghid’s face conveyed that the call wasn’t just a prayer answered for Shay. After Ghid frantically pulled the device from his pocket, his lips quirked in his version of jubilation. “It’s her.”

  “Thank fuck,” Tait said.

  “No shit.” As Ghid rose and walked away, he added over his shoulder, “You can blab at her once I’m done, T.”

  “Mahalo.” Tait swiveled back toward Shay with a chuckle tempting his lips. He shook his head as he gave into the mirth. “Wow.”

  Shay inclined his head. “Wow what?”

  “What do you mean, wow what? In the last seventy-two hours, I’ve learned my little bro pulled off arguably the slickest secret mission since Neptune’s Spear and brought our mom back to us in the process. Not only that, but you’re now some kind of badass super-hybrid something, and you found a woman who digs the hell out of you—who lives in Las Vegas, Nevada. I sure as hell know where Kell and I are taking our dream girl on our next vacation.”

  Shay couldn’t help indulging his own laugh. “What happened to my sibling who always made things as dark as a Brontë novel?”

  Tait flaunted a lopsided grin. “He moved to Kaua'i. Swims in the ocean before breakfast. And has the love of his life to come home to every day.”

  He studied the guy for a long moment, hardly believing his brother was the same man. A year ago, the only thing that got Tait out of bed was a bottle of Grey Goose and a semiclean glass. A soft smile replaced his chuckle. “It’s really that simple, isn’t it?”

  Tait gestured toward the pool with one hand. “Sometimes you just have to believe it’s the best day of your life, brother.”

  Like a bizarre magic spell, T’s words seemed to set everything into slow motion. The bad B movie kind, like rocks in Jell-O—which was exactly what Ghid looked like as he fell to his knees on the deck. The phone popped out of his hand and plunked into the pool between Zoe and Ryder, who joined Brynn and Ellie in gaping at him with confused horror in their eyes.

  “What the hell?” Dan bounded to his feet.

  Shay rose with him. “Not. Good.”

  He might as well have said holy shit.

  Zoe. She had to get out of the water. He had to have her back here, next to him. Now. Now.

  But the second her name started to buzz off his lips, his phone rang. Also listing a northern Nevada number.

  Shay jammed the line open as fast as he could. “Mom? What the hell’s going on? Ghid just collapsed like a deck of cards, and—”

  “Sergeant Shay Bommer. My, my, my. Hello there.”

  It wasn’t Mom. The voice was low. Calm. Cultured. Male.

  Sometimes you just have to believe it’s the best day of your life…

  Until it became the worst.

  “Where the hell’s my mother, Homer?”

  Chapter Twenty

  Despite the heat of the day, Zoe shivered as if she’d been dunked in a vat of ice.

  She’d been trembling since the moment Ghid’s proud stance had given way to a collapse of defeat. If that hadn’t turned the day into a giant blast of surreal, Shay’s snarl worked out the finale for the job.

  Homer Adler. Like the captain of the Titanic, he was all too happy to guide a ship of dreams, right up until the iceberg. Then he’d abandoned it but found time to leave a �
�parting gift” for Shay—an adder in a shiny box called Mom.

  Before even hearing his sickening professor voice, Zoe hated the man.

  Where the hell had he come from? Why was he calling? And how did he know both Ghid’s and Shay’s numbers?

  Caramba. If the answer was a snake, she would’ve been bitten and killed by now.

  After one look at Shay’s face, she wondered if she was going to wish for that anyway.

  There was only one person on earth with both Ghid’s and Shay’s numbers stored in their phone. She knew that because she’d personally programmed Shay’s number into the device.

  Right before saying her goodbyes to Melody Bommer.

  Shay paced to the cabana’s table, his steps erratic. Half a dozen drinks and a plate of nachos occupied the space until he cleared them in one sweep. After slamming down the phone in their place, he stabbed the speaker button and leaned over the device, hands planted like he’d reach in and grab Adler through the phone if he could.

  “I asked you a question, maggot. Start talking, or I’ll track you to within an inch of your puckered little asshole and then implant it with enough bullets, you’ll shit lead for the rest of your sorry days.”

  “Really? Hmmm. You and what army?” The man sounded like Shay was a boy again and he’d simply asked if Shay wanted his ice cream in a cone or a cup. “The big green machine who’s officially listed you AWOL after you slipped away from the facility at A-51? Or the CIA spooks who have joined in on the manhunt, since Mr. Colton is on that same outlaw list with you?”

  “Surprise, surprise,” Colton whispered.

  “You think they locked you out just because you had bad breath or something?” Ry retorted, also beneath his breath.

  “He doesn’t have bad breath,” Brynn snapped. Colton’s light smack on her ass ended any extension of that debate.

  Besides that, Adler was just getting started. “Hmmm,” the man repeated. “Perhaps you’re enlisting the Las Vegas Police Department, who are getting ready to break the news that three young dancers from the Sunset four-oh-three drama were recaptured by one of their hijackers three nights ago, along with their handsome model friend, and are believed alive…for now.”