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  Fuck yeah, that moment.

  The clincher? Hearing those two perfect words, tumbling so naturally from her lips. Yes, Sir.

  Two words. Two seconds that awakened his spirit and consumed his cock.

  He longed to hear her say more. Yearned to know more about her, especially the steps she’d taken in the D/s lifestyle. Had they been huge strides or just curious explorations? Had she even experienced Power Exchange before? If so, what had happened to make her so shy about this side of herself? Had someone messed with her in the wrong way? Not honored the gift of her trust? He couldn’t imagine a Dom with this woman at his feet not wanting to drop to his knees beside her and thank God for the treasure of her.

  He practically held his breath, waiting for her answer.

  The cab jerked to a stop at the Hilton’s lobby doors.

  Dammit.

  He couldn’t help noticing Zoe’s big whoosh of breath. As he paid the driver, she actually thanked the man and wished him a good night. Somebody was a little too happy to be off the hook.

  Enjoy the freedom now, tiny dancer. I’m not done with you yet.

  He didn’t want to give his ego full credit for the promise, though his brain blared a reminder. Careful, assface. She’s already wise to the Army boy vibe. Your call-sign may be Ironman but she’s peeling back the armor, getting to the flesh beneath. You really want this to go that much further? To risk exposing who you really are?

  He turned the voice off to care for the more urgent pair of matters at hand. Brynn needed to be roused, and Ellie somehow muscled from the car. As Shane handled things with El, Zoe opened the front passenger door and went to work on waking her friend.

  Her chica woke with a cute little start, releasing the same drunken tigress she’d been back at the airport—only at a louder volume. “I got the eye of a tiger, a fighter, dancing through the fii-ire—c’mon, Zo, sing with me, baby!—I am a champ-eee-on, and you’re gonna hear me rooooar!”

  Zoe gave her friend an indulgent smile as Brynn slumped against her. “You don’t want me to go there, girlfriend; we both know it. Besides, you’ve got this handled.”

  She threw a sardonic glance to Shay as the doorman let them in, and Brynn treated everyone in the lobby bar to a miniature Katy Perry tribute while Zoe picked up the room keys. Though Shay kept his attention fixed on Brynn’s antics, he continued his unfaltering study of Zoe, including how she recommitted herself to the all-business air while turning from the desk. Shit, did that mien say things—like her obvious consideration of the options for now giving him a tactful good-bye. The challenge was Ellie. Brynn was still in no position to help, and hauling one’s friend to the room on a bell cart was only excusable during New Year’s Eve and Mardi Gras.

  The woman’s dilemma intensified as men waved money at Brynn, shouting requests for other tunes. As the damn fool girl grinned, ready to indulge them, Shay drilled a steely glare at the bastards. Before they finished backing down, Zoe’s ambivalence cracked. She grabbed her friend, nodded at Shay then led the way to the elevators.

  Once they entered Brynn and Ellie’s room, Zoe pulled back the sheets on one bed so Shay could slip El in fully clothed. On the other side of the room, Brynn attempted to strip. The woman shucked her T-shirt without effort but the painted-on jeans weren’t as cooperative. Still humming the Katy Perry anthem, she hopped around until stumbling onto the bed and falling back asleep.

  Zoe gaped at her friend, stunned into silence.

  Shay snickered. Hell. He couldn’t help himself. She’d been so I-am-Woman-Hear-Me Roar all night, making her awkward moment an enticing surprise.

  He couldn’t help another laugh. Shrugged as if to apologize but let out another. Though Zoe shot him a glare at first, one glance at her friend had her giggling, too. They both laughed harder as Brynn rolled over, her jeans still locked around her knees, her lips mumbling through the final bars of her song.

  “I have ibuprofen in my purse,” she murmured. “Maybe I should get it?”

  He mellowed his laugh to a smile. She seemed to always think three steps ahead of everyone, and those thoughts were always full of kindness. “Good idea, mama bear. Grab some water to go with it, and we’ll set it on the nightstand for them.” He nodded toward Brynn. “I’ll handle the rest of this.”

  He had to admit, he’d peeled more cooperative wrappers off taffy before. When Zoe came back from the bathroom, he was still battling the denim around one of Brynn’s ankles. When she was finally free, he gently tucked her under the covers before following Zoe from the room.

  Once they got to the hall, they both leaned against the wall, releasing relieved breaths. He let a long moment pass, though it was total torture. All he wanted to do was pivot around, press her between his body and the wall, and lean in for the kiss he’d been craving since he met her. Now it was his turn at the clumsy shuffle.

  “Wow.” He tried to laugh once more.

  “What?” She glanced up, caught him staring, and returned to tracing the pattern on the carpet with her ankle-booted toe.

  “I haven’t felt this dorky since I was sixteen. For the record, that’s a long damn time.”

  She looked back at him for a pulse-grabbing second, flashing a sweet, captivating grin. “Mr. Burnett, I’m pretty sure you and ‘dorky’ have never crossed paths.”

  Though she tossed the statement out with plenty of sass, the essence of her submissiveness flowed over him once more, this time with her voice as an added pleasure. The silk of her softly-accented tone was an offering to him, a test run of her trust that danced around the answer she never gave in the cab. He could see the progress wasn’t easy for her, and was moved by her bravery. It stabbed to the core of everything he loved about being a Dom. The first tendrils of her surrender…believing in his ability to take her courage and transform it into more…

  Holy fuck, did he want to try. They had a lot of hours until dawn.

  Or maybe not.

  She stopped the process at the gift of her words. Her stance remained rigid, her arms tightly folded. Despite this wild, wonderful energy flowing between them, she scooted away by a nervous step.

  Shay didn’t let her get far. He leaned toward her with renewed resolve. Damn it, fate didn’t simply plop a connection like this into any Dom’s lap, during any random airport closure. There weren’t a lot of magical things in his life anymore, which probably explained his obsession with this gift. He was determined to fight for it, at least a little.

  He reached, gently cupping her elbow in his hand. When she didn’t resist, he slid his fingers up the back of her arm. “Tell you what. I’ll confess about the dorky skeletons in my closet if you spill about the submissive ones in yours.”

  She squirmed before turning her head back up again—to gaze right back down the hall, toward the elevators. “I…really should go back over to the terminal. Someone else may decide to take a snooze on the bar, and—”

  “And you’re not their mother.”

  At least that compelled her scrutiny back up to him. The surprise in her eyes wasn’t a shock, but he couldn’t stand the idea of her bolting from him either. Not yet. There were deeper layers to this woman…depths he was strangely, intensely curious to explore.

  Summoning his biggest cojones, he lifted both hands to bracket her shoulders.

  “Mr. Burnett—”

  “That’s not easy for you to hear, is it?”

  “Easy or not, it’s just not accurate. I’m the dance lead on our show, which means technically, I am their mother.”

  He lowered his head, levelling the trajectory of their gazes as much as he could. Dammit, he wanted to be sitting next to her right now, not looming over her. “Agreed, though I suspect you’re a willing natural for the role, as well.”

  Her brows jumped. He’d either stunned her or insulted her. Perhaps both. “Willing? Natural? Well, it certainly wasn’t what I expected when I accepted the job.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’ve been taking care
of people, in some way, shape, or form, since I was eleven.”

  “Then you must be good at it by now.”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  “And tired of it.”

  “Haven’t been told that.”

  “Really?” He was genuinely bewildered and didn’t hide it. That yanked her gaze back to his, shadowed with curiosity of her own. Shay took advantage of the chance to scoop a hand beneath her chin, maintaining the silent, potent lock of their eyes.

  Fighting for their magic.

  “Let the kids take care of themselves tonight, Mom.”

  Conflict took over her face as if he’d asked her to blow up the hotel instead of trusting her friends to behave like adults. It didn’t surprise him. They’d met a little less than an hour ago but he already saw “letting go” was a back burner issue for the woman. She’d been taking care of others for so long, it was how she took care of herself—to the point where she’d lost herself.

  It made him a little furious. A hell of a lot more sad. She had no idea how stunning she was, how she mesmerized him even as she stood there working her lips against each other, turning them the color of crushed berries. For the twentieth time, Shay battled the urge to ram her against the wall and show her exactly what it felt like to be “taken care of.”

  Focus on something innocuous.

  Not happening, either. Even her goddamn earlobes were delectable, begging him to dip his head and taste them…

  “Fine,” she quipped at last, cocking her head in defiance. “For argument’s sake, let’s say I leave the kids alone and let them stumble back on their own. You going to stand there and tell me there’s nothing in it for you, Burnett? That you don’t simply want the chance to poke around for my ‘skeletons’ a little more, señor?”

  Her intelligence, showcased with that mix of adorable and incisive, poured even more juice into the elixir of his attraction to her. “Guilty.” He raised both hands. “You got me. But your skeletons are damn appealing, señorita.”

  “To a guy like you.”

  He lowered his hands, letting a weighted moment go by. “Yeah. To a guy like me.” Their gazes met once more, conveying a mutual understanding. From the way they’d both emphasized “guy,” it was clear they meant Dom. “Who, if I’m not mistaken, might be very interesting to a woman like you.”

  “That’s where you’re mistaken.” She pushed from the wall, letting him see the sadness that sliced across her face. “I’m not a woman like that.” A little snort followed. “Look, I’ve been…curious…in the past, okay? There was a time when I really craved the Dominant/submissive thing. I had a boyfriend who even helped me try it all out, and—”

  “And what?” He hated the deep furrow that returned between her brows.

  She shook her head before answering him in a whisper. “I suck at submissiveness, okay?”

  It was all Shay could do not to laugh. “Zoe.” Fuck, how he had to fight at dulling the chastisement in it to a gentle roar. “Beautiful, breathtaking Zoe. I find that statement harder to believe than a cheap carny psychic.”

  “Sure. Because you know me so well.”

  “Because I know me so well. And I know the parts of me that have definitely awakened to corresponding things about you.”

  Her snort turned scornful. “Keep them all in your pants, honey.”

  He allowed her to break free from him, only thinking she needed some breathing space—until she stunned him with a parade-perfect pivot and started stomping back down the hall. “You really want that, baby girl?”

  He didn’t raise his voice on the growl. As he’d hoped, it didn’t take long to take effect, halting her cold in those little boots. Her sassy posture accentuated every gorgeous curve of her legs and ass. It all looked even nicer when her spine stiffened. His cock enthusiastically followed suit.

  Damn. Their “relationship” wasn’t even at triple digits on its minute count but watching his voice have that effect on her, then getting her gorgeous impudence in return, only strengthened his impression about this connection they already shared.

  This magic…

  So what if she didn’t see it yet? He’d already resolved to do the fighting for them both—and recommitted himself to the cause now.

  Too bad he was too busy with the mental hooyah to remember one of the shittiest rules-that-weren’t-rules about unconventional warfare.

  The outcome of a battle often hinged on the smallest of actions.

  Like the one Zoe made in the moment he still struggled to take control of his dick, force his feet forward, and make his way to her again.

  From one of the pockets hugging that cute backside, she withdrew a room key card. Waved it at the door in front of her. The portal beeped and swung in. She didn’t waste a second stepping through it. By the time Shay caught up, she’d turned around, one hand on the inside light switch, the other on the door. Her gaze returned to its guarded anger. Her lips were a tight, hard line.

  Shay clenched his jaw, reining back another growl. It was fucking impossible to fight for something with a door slammed in one’s face.

  Nearly slammed.

  “Thank you again,” she murmured, “for the help with Brynn and El. You racked up the Good Samaritan points tonight, okay?”

  He risked sliding his toes to the threshold of the room. Then tilting up her face with his thumb once more. “I have a lot of those already.” He wasn’t lying. In his years with the teams, he’d stopped counting how many kids he’d guided from land mine fields, rations he’d passed out to villagers, bullets he’d pried from buddies’ thighs, even kittens he’d pulled out of trees. “What if I simply want to cash them in?”

  Her breath hitched. As she let it back out in shaky spurts, he dared pushing a whole foot forward.

  “Burnett…”

  She moved her hand from the wall to his shoulder. To push him away? He chose to ignore the possibility, and was damn glad he didn’t. The next instant, her fingers curled into his sleeve. A visible tremor claimed her.

  Shay moved his other foot into the room. Slid his thumb along her jaw, toward her ear. He framed the other side of her face with his index finger, pulling her mouth steadily closer.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  He lowered a hand to her waist, tugging her body tighter to his. “I love the way you say that, tiny dancer.”

  The endearment earned him a high-pitched little cry, vibrating from her throat into his fingers. His bloodstream thundered in response. His cock surged through his pants, against her stomach.

  “Hell,” she gasped.

  “Feels a lot more like heaven to me.”

  “Please. We can’t.”

  He drew back a little, making sure her gaze was consumed with the hot intent of his. “I’m going to kiss you, baby girl. If you still believe that when I’m done, then I’ll turn around, leave you alone, and never bother you again. Sound fair?”

  She blinked hard. With every dip of her dark lashes, her eyes glittered more intensely. Her chest pumped, deep and hard. Technically, none of it told him yes.

  But none of it was no.

  He fitted their bodies together. Slammed his mouth atop hers. As he did, his spirit pumped a fist with its revision to his battle wisdom from earlier.

  Small actions could definitely determine outcomes.

  But bold actions created awesome explosions.

  Chapter Four

  She was in trouble.

  Hot, wonderful, beautiful gobs of it.

  Shane Burnett and his mouth—and his hands, and his arms, and his thighs—were the hard, incredible ring leaders of the mess. Even before he prodded her lips open with his mouth, he brought a waterfall of heat to her blood, a cascade of need to her skin, a profound pleasure to every sense she possessed—and probably a few new ones, too. As he deepened their kiss, she matched his rough growl with a whimper that echoed through every corner of her body at once.

  He consumed her already—as she knew he would.

 
Pulled out every dark, sinful craving of her soul again—as she feared he would.

  A corner of her mind tried to rationalize the sensations. Holy shit. Waterfalls? Cascades? Cravings? Would she next start comparing the man’s touch to a shower of rainbow-colored stars? She was being melodramatic, plain and simple. But could she be blamed? The only male touch she’d known since January had been from the guys in the show, who fantasized about caressing each other when they had to fondle her for the steamier numbers. Dating hadn’t been a consideration. After the disastrous night in the dungeon that had officially ended her relationship with Bryce, vanilla and D/s-wise, she’d declared herself an intimacy disaster zone. Ten months later, it was simply easier to keep the barriers up.

  There was nothing safe about Shane Burnett. Nothing remotely easy.

  From the moment their eyes had met in the bar, every passing minute had been torture. Battling not to notice him. Gravitate toward him. Stare at him. Smell him.

  Fantasize about being with him…exactly like this.

  He groaned against her lips as he shifted their bodies, making room for the door to thump shut behind them. Zoe sucked in a harsh breath through her nose, yearning to keep the contact of their mouths intact. Shane groaned his approval, spreading her lips wide before sweeping his tongue into the deepest corners of her mouth. His hands splayed to her shoulders, dropped along her rib cage, and finally gripped her hips in fierce possession, sliding her against the bulge now reigning over the apex of his thighs.

  He finally pulled back, fanning her face with his lustful breaths, dropping his face to the top of her head. “Please don’t tell me the Samaritan points are still my only option tonight.”

  She smile. “Please don’t tell me that running after the kids is mine.”

  He answered that by screwing his grip tighter to her hips and hiking her higher on the wall so he could kiss her at a direct angle. Holy hell. She’d scoffed at comparing the man’s touch to stars but her body felt like a damn meteor shower as he controlled her positioning against him…the blatant slide of her pussy along his huge erection.