Somebody's Angel (#5 in a Military Romance / BDSM Romance series) (Rescue Me) (39 page)

“You’re two of the most stubborn people I’ve ever met.”

Marc shrugged but didn’t smile. “It’s in the genes.” He’d never wanted to get involved with an Italian woman, but now he couldn’t imagine going on without this one by his side.

Would she even want him anymore? Somehow the thought of her rejection scared him even worse than continuing to live without her. At least then he’d still have the fantasy possibility of her returning.

What did Angelina want? Had she moved on emotionally as well as physically? “Has she played at the club lately?”

“You know the rules about confidentiality at the club.”

Adam wasn’t going to divulge whether she’d played with any other Doms or even if she’d stopped by for a drink to hang out with the other submissives. Again, the fantasy of believing she hadn’t come to Denver for anything more than babysitting Marisol made it easier for him to imagine Angelina had been as miserable as he had been these past two months.

“Ball’s in your court, Doc. Women don’t come with instruction manuals. I had no five-part frag order in place last November. Just one objective—bring Karla home with me where she belonged. You have to do the best you can with what you know. Get those boots on the ground, and deal with whatever comes at you as it happens. I learned a long time ago that you can’t plan for every contingency, especially not when you’re dealing with women. They’re wired differently.”

“I’ll say.” Even so, Marc wasn’t sure he could just charge after Angelina with no clear plan. What if he failed? He might not get yet another chance to make it right.

Adam became lost in thought a moment before continuing. “A lot happened at Karla’s folks’ place last Thanksgiving weekend that I had no control over. Things eventually fell into place, even though there wasn’t time to process and sort out everything.” Adam’s gaze returned to Marc. “My bottom-line objective was all that mattered. The other stuff we’ll deal with when we have to or have time, but Karla’s back by my side, we have a baby on the way, and we have our whole lives ahead of us to work on those issues and any others we’ll have to face on down the road.”

Adam reached for a bottle of water and took a swig. “What is it you want out of life? Out of a relationship with Angelina? Once you figure that out, then you go after it.”

“I don’t even know where she is.”

“Well, tomorrow night she’ll be at Damián’s. He’s planned a pretty intense mindfuck for Savannah. Angelina’s watching Marisol overnight. You might want to be a part of this scene, though. We’re going to need all hands on deck to get through to that stubborn little submissive.”

“Count me in on the scene.” Marc listened intently as Adam laid out the plan for where Victor and Patti, Adam and Karla, and Marc would reinforce the redirected message Damián wanted to get through to Savannah. Sounded intense. He hoped it wouldn’t backfire on Damián.

“If all goes as planned, Damián and Savannah will be staying the night at the club, and Karla and I are headed back to the hotel suite where we spent our wedding night.”

Late the next evening, long after Damián and Savannah’s mindfuck had ended and the two were ensconced in one of the private bedrooms upstairs processing the scene, Marc walked into the dungeon to clean up as he’d promised. Wiping down the St. Andrew’s cross Luke had made, he reflected on the powerful scene’s ending. Savannah’s tear-drenched eye mask tore at his gut when he walked into the room, but once the truth had been revealed to her, she’d been transformed almost instantaneously.

Seeing his friends come together in that way—to help a member of the family welcome another into the fold—moved him but also showed him what he was missing. The others all had their girls with them. He’d been the one standing alone, less a part of the scene than he might have been with Angelina beside him.

Had Adam invited him to participate in that scene to show him what he was missing?

Marc put away the cleaning supplies and walked back upstairs. Heading out the kitchen door into the night, he knew what needed to be done.

About damned time.

Chapter Nineteen

A
dam waited for the bellman to open the door to the honeymoon suite. When Karla would have followed the man with the luggage cart inside the room, Adam placed his hand firmly on her arm and held her back. After tipping the man, Adam bent to lift his beautiful wife into his arms.

“Adam!”

Karla’s giggle made him hard instantly.
Fuck.
Maybe he hadn’t thought this through. He had every intention of getting her off tonight any number of times after depriving her for so long in his own selfish effort to keep himself from becoming aroused. Clearly, though, he was fighting a losing battle. All he could think about all day and night was having sex with Karla.

Not even sex the way he wanted—rough, raw, and fast. That wasn’t on the agenda until after the babies were born. But at least he could see to it one of them was satisfied before this night was over. He also could pamper her. Love her.

Dear God, but he loved her. If anything happened to her or their babies…he wouldn’t survive another loss of someone he loved. Not an option. He remained riddled with guilt over the loss of his son, despite Joni’s and now Karla’s doctors saying it had nothing to do with their having had rough sex in the seventh month of her pregnancy. He’d go to his own grave knowing he’d caused his baby’s death.

At least he wasn’t a horny young man ready to deploy without any sense of self-control.

No, now he was a horny
old
man. Tonight, he’d do well to remember the discipline he’d learned during twenty-five years in the Corps.

He set Karla on her feet again, and she molded herself to his body.
Fuck.
The way his body responded, maybe he hadn’t evolved so far from that horny young man after all. Just the look and feel of Karla’s body made his cock even harder. Being back in this room where they’d spent their wedding night conjured up too many carnal memories.

Damián had better appreciate Adam and Karla for vacating their own house so his surrogate son could have some time alone with Savannah tonight. He hoped Damián could break down more of Savannah’s walls. They’d certainly made a lot of progress in the dungeon tonight with the slut scene.

Karla placed a peck on his cheek and went to lift her suitcase onto the bed. “Kitten, put that down!”

She sighed, and he easily wrested the bag from her and plopped it onto the bed himself. “Adam, why do you keep treating me like an invalid? I’m pregnant, not terminally ill or something.”

“You know how I feel about you overdoing it. And don’t be insubordinate.”

“Yes, Sir.” She rolled her eyes and then grinned in a most insolent way. He needed to continue to work on her lack of discipline, but gently. He didn’t want to risk doing anything to hurt her or the babies.

She unzipped the case and pulled out some filmy, white clothing and wadded it into a ball, keeping her body at an angle so he couldn’t see what she carried toward the bathroom. “I’ll be right back. Make yourself comfortable, Sir.”

He took the suitcase off the bed and set it on the luggage rack, noticing the bottle of sparkling grape juice chilling in the ice bucket. He’d also had the hotel stock the refrigerator earlier this afternoon with a number of items he planned to feed his bride of almost five months tonight. He remembered verbatim the invitation he’d sent her for this get-away evening.

Baby Tiger,

My beast needs to feed tonight. Wear your most demure harem outfit, and I will escape with you to a private oasis where we can enjoy a night of indulgence and romance.

Your sultan

The scene he’d planned for tonight was about indulging in food more than sex. He shed his shirt, shoes, jeans, and skivvies and pulled out the robe and sultan’s headgear he wore when they made use of the Arabian Nights theme room at the club. He wished he could see her in one of her sexy red belly-dancing outfits tonight, but all that gyrating couldn’t be good for the babies—or him—so he’d forbidden her to wear those the last couple months. As long as she covered as much skin as possible, including that belly where his two tiny babies resided at the moment, he should be okay.

Adam would do nothing to jeopardize this pregnancy. Already he felt closer to these babies than he had with his first, primarily because he was present for Karla’s pregnancy. With Joni’s, he’d been training for a mission in the early months and then deployed at the end. They’d wanted a child more than anything, but he had been so focused on doing his job during that deployment he’d felt separated from all that was going on back home. Joni had gone through the last stages of pregnancy and the horrific stillbirth on her own, like she’d had to face so many other things without him.

Hearing Joni’s voice on one of the tapes she’d left him talking about the regret she felt at not being able to give him a son had caused him to break down and bawl like a baby himself for the son he’d never know. The pain in Joni’s voice—a pain she hadn’t expressed to him while alive—was like hearing the news for the first time. He really hadn’t allowed himself to process the loss at the time it happened, not unlike the way he’d compartmentalized his loss of Joni to cancer many years later.

This pregnancy was different. He’d been with Karla ever since they realized she was pregnant last Thanksgiving weekend. Since then, he’d done a lot of thinking about what it meant to be a father.

Sharing Karla’s pregnancy had opened him up to a vulnerability he rarely permitted himself to feel. He had so little control over the lives growing inside her body, which scared the living hell out of him. Helplessness wasn’t something he handled well.

God, just let these babies be born and live healthy lives. He didn’t have a preference for sons or daughters, but being able to nurture and love two tiny babies he’d helped create with Karla was something he wanted more than anything on earth. He also wanted to live long enough to raise and guide them into adulthood over the next couple of decades.

He’d told her once he wanted six kids, but in truth, he didn’t think he could go through another pregnancy with her. Hell, Karla hadn’t even delivered these babies, and he was already thinking about the next four. If they had two healthy babies, he’d die a happy man.

He couldn’t wait to tell her about Marc’s house—soon to be
their
house. Making do on a Marine’s pension and income from the club wouldn’t have let them even afford the outbuildings of a property like that. He’d checked the taxes and, while hefty, knowing his wife and kids would be in a safe place was worth it. The house would be as safe as he could make it, and that knowledge relieved some of the anxiety he’d carried since finding out he and Karla were about to become par—

Karla hummed a Middle Eastern tune to herself as she opened the bathroom door. Time to get into sultan headspace. Using a remote, he dimmed the lights in the room. Maybe if he didn’t look at her, he’d make it through the night without losing control.

Music that conjured up thoughts of Scheherazade spilled from her smartphone, and he turned to watch her undulate toward him.

Fuck
.
Fuck
.
Fuck!

She disobeyed him completely! This belly-dancing outfit might be white and pure-looking, but it was nothing but wisps of sheer scarves over her hips and a beaded bra. Her belly was covered only by strands of pearl-like beads.

Clusterfucking-A!

Karla’s more voluptuous breasts nearly spilled from the top of the bra cups. Adam wet his lips.

Dear God, he wanted her.

Her hips swayed as she clanged the tiny cymbals on her thumbs and forefingers. Her eyes had been heavily made up. Even though she wore a half-veil across her lower face, her lips shown ruby red through the gossamer material. His dick throbbed, standing in a full salute. He ought to take her over his knee for torturing him like this. Or perhaps torture her in return with delayed orgasms.

No, he might hurt the babies. He needed to remember them tonight, first and foremost. He felt his hard-on relax a bit. Good.