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  “Zoe. Goddamnit, I need Zoe!”

  “Okay, tiger. I’m Zoe, okay? Now let me show you what else I can be…”

  Zoe smacked a hand atop the woman’s thigh just as Buffy untied her string panties, preparing to straddle Shay’s erection. “Oh, honey. Quit while you’re ahead. And alive.”

  Buffy flashed her the pert cheerleader grin again. “Oh, it’s okay, doll. Thanks for your concern, but I’m used to some rough stuff.”

  “Oh, it’s not him you have to worry about, doll.” She flickered her own version of the bimbo smirk while stabbing her fingernails into Buffy’s skin. “I’ll break it down into simpler terms. You will not fuck my man tonight. You will not fuck him in the light. You will not fuck him on the bed. You will not fuck him on a sled. You will not—”

  “She gets the point,” Tait interceded. From his rolling medical cart, he yanked out parts of a rifle and began screwing them together.

  “Yeah. I get the point.” Buffy held up her hands and backed off the bed. After grabbing her shoes, she bolted from the room.

  “On a sled?” Tait sneered.

  “I’m under stress,” she snapped.

  “If you don’t get the hell out of there in five minutes, you’ll also be under siege,” Caspar barked.

  “Roger that,” Rhett confirmed. “We’ve got a couple of hawks on the roof now, T-Bomb, and so far, those bozos think the threat has originated from there. Hostiles are racing for the higher ground like sheep to the cliffs. We’ve already confirmed Adler’s flight from the building too. Someone in that place unjammed my door jam.”

  “What about Newport and Stock?” Tait asked.

  “No sign of them,” Rhett conveyed.

  “Good. That’s really fucking good.”

  “There’s no time for cowboy games, T. We’ll be able to keep up the ruse on the roof for only a few more minutes. You need to get I-Man up and moving now.”

  Tait looked over his brother while using an attachment on his utility knife to jimmy the locks free on all the shackles. “Oh, you don’t have to worry about the ‘up’ part.”

  “I do not want to hear about it,” Rhett retorted.

  “Me neither,” Caspar growled. “Zoe, can you still hear me?”

  “Yeah.” It was the first thing she said since getting her hands on Shay again, and it was a natural wobble of emotion. “Yeah,” she repeated, as much to the man beneath her touch as the agent in her tooth. “I’m here. I’m here.”

  “This is coming down to you, girl.” Caspar sounded like God once more. “You’re clearly the only one he’ll listen to. Talk to him. You can do this.”

  She nodded, struggling to keep her tears at bay. Right now, she felt like she could scale Everest if asked—except that holding Shay in her arms again felt like arriving at the summit already.

  “Shay,” she whispered. Then a little more forcefully, “Shay. Baby. You need to wake up, okay?”

  His face flopped against her chest. “Zoe. Please. I… I need Zoe.”

  “I’m here, my love. Right here. Open your eyes.” She kissed his forehead. “Good. You did it once. Try it again.”

  “Zoe.” He kept his gaze open, but it was a bleary, straw-colored mess as he grabbed her sweater. “Can you get her for me? I miss her so much.”

  “Mierda.” Her voice splintered. She fought the total breakdown by sucking in another tight breath. “Oh, God. I am Zoe. Don’t you know me?”

  “She says that a lot. Mierda. She’s so fucking cute when she spits it out. Then sometimes, she bites her lip after it, and I just want to kiss her…”

  It was good inspiration. In desperation, Zoe went with it, grabbing his face and kissing him hard. When she finished, she kept her head bent over him, running soft fingers down the side of his beautiful face and letting him feel the rain of her tears. “Look at me, Shay. Look at me and know me…please. I’m here, and I love you so much.”

  He let out a weary sough. “I love her so much. I didn’t tell her, and now I’m afraid she’ll never know.”

  “Oh, Shay.” She cried harder. Prayed that the love in every drop of her tears would baptize his memory and bring him back to her. “I know. I do know.”

  “Zoe. I need Zoe.”

  “She’s right here. I’m right here. Open your eyes. See me.”

  “Zoe.”

  “I’m here. Your baby girl. Your tiny dancer. The heart you’ve taken hostage…forever.”

  As she rasped the words against his lips, she felt his breath hitch. Then his whole body seized. Hers did the same, raw dread jolting through her.

  What the hell was happening to him? Was it a bad reaction to coming off the drugs? Was he going to try throwing her away like he did Buffy?

  If that was the case, she was too late to stop him. He shifted his hand to her arm and wrapped a grip around her like a steel claw.

  But he didn’t hurl her away.

  He jerked her closer.

  Zoe stared down, nervously scanning his face again.

  Her heart didn’t stop again. But it sure as hell skipped a lot of beats.

  His lips started inching into the grin that could stop traffic. The corners of his mouth and eyes crinkled. And his eyes…held all the hues of the desert sky. Only this time, they weren’t the shades of the sunset.

  They were the colors of the dawn.

  “Zoe. My tiny dancer.”

  It wasn’t his question any longer. Or his plea.

  It was his certainty.

  “Shay. My beautiful Sir.”

  It was her certainty too.

  “Are you really here?” After her hard kiss of confirmation, a heavy breath left him. “I can’t believe it.”

  The building shuddered. Zoe grabbed the back of his neck, compelling him to look at her. “We need to get out of here. Now. Are you strong enough to walk?”

  “For you? To the moon.”

  She smiled. “Okay, overachiever, how about just up to the roof?”

  They left the building as the waning day turned the desert sky into a thousand radiant colors—but to them, the sunset had just become a sunrise. A new beginning of forever, heated by the perfection of their crazy, fated love.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  One layover, a few adventures, and a lot of love later…

  Zoe Margarita Madonna Chestain

  and

  Sergeant Major Shay Bommer

  request your presence at their wedding vows…and a second celebration, too

  * * *

  Saturday, October 1, 3:00 pm

  Spring Mountain Ranch

  Blue Diamond, Nevada

  * * *

  Barbecue, Bar, Riding, and Roping immediately following the boring stuff

  * * *

  In lieu of gifts, please make donations to

  The Melody Bommer Institute for Progressive Gene Research

  But if you insist—registries can be found at Babies Plus, Infant-A-Go-Go, and Babies In Arms

  * * *

  RSVP to Zoe’s cell: 702-555-7429

  Please leave a message. She’ll return the call…

  when she’s not tied up.

  Continue the Honor Bound Series with Book Seven

  Keep reading for an excerpt!

  Enjoy Honor Bound: Hot?

  Please leave a review.

  Excerpt from Masked: Honor Bound Book Seven

  Dear God.

  It bore repeating. Probably out loud. If she could only figure out where the hell all her air had gone.

  He was beautiful. Almost unreal. She’d only had this sensation a few times in her whole life, like the moment she’d gazed at her first Michelangelo statue in Rome or gasped at a Cirque performer who supported three others in his palm. His lean but rock-hard build emphasized every captivating striation of his muscles: the hard ropes of his neck, the shoulders and arms that rivaled the ridges of Red Rock, the abdomen that was another mountain range all its own as well. He moved closer to her with grace that reminded her of a
n eagle’s flight, deadly force honed for efficiency and grace.

  Was he even real?

  She yearned to reach out and learn that answer for herself.

  She’d never been more afraid to move in her life.

  She cleared her throat. Tried to straighten her stance but wondered if she should lower her head instead. Or bow. Or curtsy? Or shake his hand? Hell. She was the girl who’d read every research book on dungeon etiquette, right? But now she really did feel like the girl at the prom with toilet paper attached to her heel.

  “Hi,” she finally managed. “I…I mean hello. Hello, Sir. I…I mean…”

  If she really had something to say after that, it would’ve disappeared as soon as he lifted her hand between both of his. Shivers. Everywhere. Her blood. Her skin. And yes, even in the deepest parts of her most intimate tunnel. His skin was so firm and warm, his grip a steady command, his eyes still impossible to read. That fact alone brought even more of the illicit tremors…

  He stepped closer, peering at her harder, as if trying to figure her out more fully. “Ssshhh. Breathe, red.”

  Red. Though she liked playing up the unique color of her hair, she always cringed when someone used the too-typical nickname. But on his lips, it was transformed into something new. Magical.

  “Breathe. Right. Okay…right. God. I am so sorry. You must think I’m so—” She injected a weak laugh. “I’m normally better at the whole conversation thing, I promise.”

  Why was she blowing this so badly? And why did he make it worse with his disarming grin and his tightening hold? And the intensity of his nearness. And the potency of his scent. How could the combination of Scotch and dust suddenly smell so incredible?

  “Why are you sorry? I’m the one who intruded.”

  “Oh, yeah. ‘Intruded.’” She blew a pseudo-raspberry. “Because there was so much going on here in my corner to intrude on.”

  “There would’ve been.”

  His mutter edged close to an animal’s timbre, making her shiver. Tess had heard enough radio spy chatter over the years to know the small disk on his neck was a voice distorter of some sort—but instead of raising her wariness, it only added to his allure. A lot.

  Too much.

  The conflict hastened her reckless heartbeat, especially as he repeated, “Oh, yeah. You were going to have a waiting line tonight, I can guarantee it. Then I would’ve had to bounce a few skulls together.”

  “Why?” She knew how stupid it sounded. The possessive snarl beneath his words spoke enough meaning for anyone to figure out—except, perhaps, her. The protective thing was usually her gig, a default when one was looking out for sisters who were “the pretty one” and “the smartass.” Grasping the concept that anyone wanted to look after her in the same way…

  Weird. Very weird.

  But nice.

  Really nice.

  Still, she braced herself for his teasing chuckle. Maybe some sarcastic quip at what a “silly subbie” she was for not comprehending his intent.

  Once more, the man turned her expectations sideways. No. Fully upside down. Her senses careened as he released a hand, lifting it to her jaw, yanking up her face to the focus of his fathomless gaze. “Why?” he repeated. “Because I’m pretty well set on having you all to myself tonight, rose.” His fingers pressed in. “Unless you aren’t interested in what you see?”

  She laughed. She couldn’t help herself. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “At the risk of being trite, do I look like I’m kidding?”

  “At the risk of being obnoxious, do I look like a nun? Because that’s the only situation where I can imagine you being turned down, Sir Sexy.”

  Air pushed past his smirk. His thick stubble disguised the exact edges of his lips, but the flash of his teeth briefly showed her they were curved and lush…and maybe a little wicked.

  Wicked. Right behind daunting on what she’d come here looking for.

  “I ought to stamp your ass with my palm for that cheek, little rose. But I don’t even know your name yet.”

  She couldn’t help grinning. If “cheek” earned her comments like that, she was tempted to change her name to Cheeky.

  “Odette.” She supplied the name she’d used with Master Max when turning in her application. If Sir Sexy had asked about her before coming over here—and something told her he had—then it was best to be consistent. “And you are…?”

  “Interested.” His lips tugged up again. “And intrigued. And fully cleared by Max, if you’d like to ask him about me. He and I have been friends for a while.”

  She looked toward the bar, where Max was waiting with a reassuring nod. It reinforced the security she already felt with Sexy—but also the apprehension, delicious and decadent, that inched its way into more of the sensitive skin between her thighs.

  Hell.

  She was really stepping down the rabbit hole this time, wasn’t she?

  With a Dom she couldn’t stop staring at.

  Who hadn’t stopped staring at her either.

  Who turned her bloodstream to mush because of it.

  “You’re good,” she finally blurted. “I-I mean, it’s good. I like it…that you’re interested.”

  “And intrigued,” he prompted.

  “Same difference,” she volleyed. “Right?”

  “Not necessarily.”

  She swallowed. How had he pressed at least six inches closer without her noticing? “Your semantics are certainly curious.”

  His kiss, soft yet sure, was the last response she expected—yet the perfect pin in her careful composure. Pin? Try a full arrow, piercing to her very core…a wound that felt so damn good. She moaned and then inhaled, ordering her brain to locate its This End Up sign. This was the craziest opener to a date she’d ever had—if this could even be qualified as a “date.”

  Damn good point. What the hell was this? Maybe they needed to talk about that. Set some parameters. Lay down ground rules for next steps, and—

  Thoughts that flew from her mind the moment Sexy kissed her again. Longer. Deeper. Pushing her mouth open this time, coaxing her tongue against his, all but dictating her to kiss him in return—like she’d resist a single moment of this heat and fire and pleasure. He turned her into a firework. And like the song said, she was ready to let her colors burst.

  Don’t stop. This is so good. You feel so good…

  But he did, all too soon, dragging away despite how she grabbed his shoulders to stay upright. His muscles felt even better than they looked, solid boulders beneath her fingers. Wow.

  “Odette?” he murmured.

  “Hmmm?” she managed.

  “You still with me?”

  She blinked, struggling through a dreamy fog. “If I said no, would you kiss me again?”

  His laugh was a gentle rumble. “No.” He compounded her dismay by stepping out of her reach, steadying her with his hands instead of his body. “I want more than just your mouth, little rose.”

  She gave him a half-drunk smile. “Like what?”

  She barely comprehended his hand lifting to her face. But oh, how she felt it when he grazed his fingers along her cheek, against her temple, into her hair. “Like what’s in here.”

  She scowled. “Not the answer I was going for.”

  He tightened his grip on her scalp. “But this is where it begins.” For a moment, he dipped a heated gaze down the length of her body. “As much as I long to discover all of this…it doesn’t happen until I learn more of this.” Then he was back to focusing on her face, as if committing her features to memory. Tess swayed toward him, a flower straining for the sun, needing more exposure. More…

  “Then learn me.”

  He sucked in a deep breath, almost as if her words had become his air. As he released it, he snarled. “Damn it.”

  “What?” Her gaze snapped wide. “What’s wrong? Did I mess up?”

  He chuckled. Oh, yes. Chuckled. What the hell? Being with him felt like riding a rubber band. Dark mask but g
leaming eyes. Hot kisses and then chaste clinches. Snarls and then chuckles.

  “That wasn’t messing up, red. Not one damn bit. You’re just so new. So new. And open, and willing, and…”

  “And what?” Her whisper didn’t surprise her. She was amazed it had volume at all, considering how deeply his words tore at her. He sounded like he was in pain.

  Yep. Rubber band. Wasn’t he Mr. Interested and Intrigued just a minute ago? Hadn’t he kissed her like it?

  “And…well…I’m not new,” he finally answered her. “And I don’t know how to do this in your kind of way. And my kind of way is…”

  He trailed into such a thick, dark growl, Tess wondered if she’d sprung a crimson cloak on her shoulders to match the forest in her imagination, looming around the path she had to take to “Grandma’s house.” Only, she wanted the big bad wolf to devour her—in any way he could imagine. But how to prove it to him?

  The answer blared at her like a shaft of light in that forest.

  And was as easy as tugging the ribbon that secured her own mask.

  She let the covering fall all the way to the floor. Then tilted her bare face up at Sir Sexy, letting him see the surrender in her gaze.

  “Your kind of way is what I came here to find,” she confessed. “So show it to me…please?”

  * * *

  Continue reading Masked…

  Also by Angel Payne

  Honor Bound Series:

  Saved

  Cuffed

  Seduced

  Wild

  Wet

  Hot

  Masked

  Mastered (May 15, 2018)

  Conquered (Coming June 2018)

  Ruled (Coming Soon)