Page 20 of Worth the Risk

“Are you always this bossy?”

Dan’s expression remained cool, but his lips twitched ever so slightly. “Look around you, baby. Where do you think you are?”

The answer, a haven for dominants and the men and women who liked to submit to them, echoed in her head. She blushed, having actually forgotten for a moment. “Oh...right.”

He dipped his head. She thought for a kiss, but his face veered to the side, and he murmured in her ear, “We’ll start getting to know each other better while we set you to rights.” She felt the brush of his lips along her jaw before he straightened.

“What’s your room number?”

“One fourteen.”

“Let me guess. Ground floor with an outside door?”

He was spot on again. “Um, is that bad?”

“Fate brought us together, if only to get you out of that crime-scene-about-to-happen motel room.” His eyes blazed with intensity when he added in follow-up, “But I’m hoping it has more in store for us both.” He raised her hand to his lips and pressed them lightly to the backs of her fingers. “I’ll see you in the morning at nine, beautiful.”

As she watched him go, she felt a strange combination of emotions—excitement, dread, confusion, intense arousal. Her body responded viscerally, from the lump in her throat to the ache between her legs, and she expected at any second to melt into a puddle on the spot.

She had bad guys after her trying to make her dead. A romance wasn’t part of her plan, but she was ready to live a little—with Dan. And while she’d had plenty of excitement in her life for the past year, the kind he promised was on a whole different level. Oddly, the more she learned about him, even the shocking, scary parts, the more she liked what she saw.

Another point in his favor, although Ben had warned her off, he never for a moment hinted she couldn’t trust him, only that she would be safe with him. After all the danger, running, hiding, looking over her shoulder, and sleepless nights she’d endured, that was a rousing endorsement, and plenty enough for her.

***

AFTER LEAVING HER,Dan walked straight to the administrative area. There were too many things that didn’t add up about the club’s stunning new “vanilla” waitress.

He snorted, not believing that for a minute. There were too many clues. The averted gaze, the nervousness when he got into her personal space, and damn, what she did with her mouth. When her tongue slipped out and she licked her lips then caught the bottom one between her teeth, he’d never gotten hard so fast in his life. He wanted to take her in his arms and demand that she stop. Then lick, bite, devour, and claim all the plump sweetness for himself.

“She’s as much vanilla as I am a choirboy,” he muttered as he strode down the darkened hallway. The only light came from the red exit sign at the end and the office midway, which was his destination.

He entered without knocking, since Sean hadn’t bothered to close or lock his door.

“Tell me what you know about Bella Rinaldi,” he demanded without preamble.

Sean looked up, as did the half-naked submissive in his lap.

“Hi, Master Dan,” Mara greeted him. Her tousled hair, drowsy, heavy-lidded eyes, and flushed cheeks proclaimed they’d been doing more than cuddling before he arrived.

His friend’s greeting wasn’t as welcoming. “Didn’t they teach you any manners in the Corps, jarhead?”

Much of the Rossi team had served under Cap in the U.S. Army Special Forces, aka the Green Berets. They had a few former SEALs and Army Rangers, but he was the only ex-Marine on staff. He’d heard this crap before and always stayed ready for more.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he returned Sean’s opening salvo. “When my unit was called to action, it wasn’t to knock politely on doors. It was to kick them in, and to take care of business so a Special Forces team in their silly green hats could arrive and take credit after they got their beauty sleep.”

Mara giggled. As a nurse who had worked at Walter Reed for several years, she’d likely heard the usually good-natured sparring that often went on between soldiers from the different branches. Everyone thought their unit, squadron, or A-team, the last in Sergeant O’Brien’s case, was the best.

Dan didn’t. For him, there was no thinking about it. The Marines were hands down the best of the best.

His friend’s frown didn’t change, and when he cleared his throat, it sounded a lot like “Bullshit.”

Dan ignored him and asked his wife directly, although he knew the answer to his question beforehand. “Did I interrupt before you got to the big finish, darlin’?”

“No, sir. We both reached the finish line, and the fanfare was definitely big.”

He chuckled. Mara was a sweet subbie with a wicked sense of humor, and Sean was a fortunate man to have collared and married her. Maybe that was behind the nickname he’d only heard her use—Lucky. The rest of the men called him Mick, for obvious reasons.

“Do you have a purpose for being here interrupting our aftercare?” a scowling Sean asked. “That’s against the rules, which, as a DM, I’m sure you’re aware of.”

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