Afterlife (Knights of the Board Room #4)

Afterlife (Knights of the Board Room #4) Page 36

“When is she not? I think she likes doing that.”

“Only because you punish her for it. Have you ever considered getting her a driver who doesn"t remind her so much of you?”

“Why do you think I have him drive her?” Peter"s wolfish smile was as audible as the devotion in his voice. “She likes to keep me on my toes.”

“I"ll say. You better give Max a good bonus, though Lucas will make you take it straight out of your check.” Jon leaned a hip against the rail, grinned. “I shudder to think of her idea of a bachelorette party.”

“Thanks for that terrifying reminder.” But Peter"s manner changed then, became more sober. Jon was sure he was now gazing at his sleeping fiancée. He was probably sitting in his roomy recliner, still in his boxers but with his laptop balanced on the arm while he reviewed the overnight reports from their Central American plants.

“It"s her way of telling me she won"t be considered helpless, no matter how much I try to take care of her.”

“Is she doing okay?” Jon knew that in addition to physical therapy, Dana was also in psychotherapy to deal with the PTSD and other emotional issues that dogged a soldier who"d experienced such a traumatic injury. His question was twofold, for that journey had affected Peter as well, who understood it both from the perspective of a fellow veteran but also as the significant other who helped her through the night terrors, depression and other challenges.

“Yeah. Lots better in fact. She"s come a long way, Jon.” There was pride now, and it reassured Jon to hear it enter his friend"s voice. “She"s tough as nails, but don"t tell her I said so. She"s much feistier when she thinks I consider her a porcelain doll.”

“You do consider her a porcelain doll. She knows you"d wrap her up in cotton if you did what you wanted, instead of what"s best for her. She"s a smart lady.”

“She"s that and much more. But Jesus, I hadn"t even thought about a fucking bachelorette party…”

Jon chuckled, but before he could say anything further, Peter changed the subject.

“This isn"t why you called. Dana filled me in on some other things. Pisses me off and breaks my heart that someone messed Rachel up that way. She deserves a lot better.

You know she refuses to put down her physical therapy fee for billing when she treats a vet, even though the VA covers it? I know she doesn"t have a lot of money. I gave her grief about it and she was stubborn as a rock. Says it"s her personal way of giving back.”

“I"m not surprised.” Though it made Jon"s heart swell even more toward the woman sleeping two rooms away from him. So strong and so fragile at once.

“Tell me you"re calling because you want some help.” Peter"s voice, nudging him back to the here and now. “Because we"re there, whatever you need.”

“Yeah, read my mind.”

“As usual. What are you thinking?”

Jon spent the next few moments laying it out with Peter, planning for a few contingencies. When they were done, Peter had promised to handle the coordination with Ben, Lucas and Matt. It freed up Jon"s morning so that he could focus wholly on Rachel.

His anticipation of that was another reminder that the timetable in his head might be driven by his own feelings as much as her needs. He"d told Shelley to shut off the feed the moment Dana and Max had arrived at her door, and once she"d fallen asleep tonight, he"d removed the cameras, tucked them back in his overnight. Looking at her sleeping in his arms, he"d known he wouldn"t be leaving her side again, not until she"d recognized he was her Master now.

Rachel might have to battle fears and doubts for some time, as Peter had indicated Dana still did, but unlike Dana, Rachel didn"t yet truly understand and accept she"d never have to fight them alone again. Until she did, he"d resolved he wasn"t abandoning her to the demons in her soul, even if he had to take her to work and keep her chained to his desk.

His mouth tugged in a wry smile at himself. It didn"t take long to rouse the Neanderthal in a so-called enlightened man. All it took was the right woman.

After he laid his phone on the glass-topped patio table, he braced his hands on the balcony rail, enjoying the sunrise. She had a tranquil corner here. When he"d commanded her to clean up her place as well as make him dinner, she"d understood there were two layers to his order, that he wasn"t being a horse"s ass about tidiness. As soon as he"d stepped into the apartment, he"d noted the difference in the space from his first visit here. Despite her sensual agitation, he"d felt the core of who Rachel really was, evident in the atmosphere. Yes, she hid here, probably far too often, but she drew strength from this place as well. If he did what he should, balanced his own needs with his Master"s understanding of hers, he"d make that fulcrum shift to him.

So first things first. Calm the inner Neanderthal. Offering the universe another rueful smile, he stepped to the middle of the balcony and started to center his mind, focusing on his breathing. Once in the proper mindset, he started a set of sun salutation repetitions. He had his palms in a prayer mudra over his head, his body grounded firmly through the soles of his feet, when he knew he wasn"t alone.

“I do that every morning,” she said, her sleep-husky voice stroking him. “Right where you"re standing.”

“Come join me then,” he invited. Adjusting his position so she could step out next to him, he was pleased to see she wore his shirt. Though she"d buttoned it so it modestly covered her thighs, the couple open buttons at the neckline showed a pleasing line of cleavage. She"d rolled up the sleeves.

“Hope you don"t mind,” she said with a shy smile he found altogether appealing.

More so than the shadows and worries lingering behind it. In answer, he brought his lifted arms down around her, drew her close so she leaned into his body for the deep, sun-soaked morning kiss. Then he held her for a few minutes, asking nothing, demanding nothing, but that she hold him back.

“When I first woke up, I thought you were a dream. The best dream ever.” Her lips moved against his bare chest. “Then I got up, and my body told me I"d been dragged behind a truck.”

He chuckled. “Complaining?”

“Hardly.” Lifting her head, she gazed up at him. “Though I"m completely out of my element here.”

“On the contrary. Everything I saw last night said you"ve been out of your natural element for far too long.”

She slid her fingers up to her bare throat, worried at it. “You took it off. The collar.”

“Yes, I did. While you were sleeping.” He touched her there. Her tremble, the desire behind it, sent a spike of hard need through his chest, his groin. He kept his voice mild, however. “You remember how I invited you to join me for that Tantric Yoga seminar?” At her nod, he continued, “The chain, the clit piece, all of it was designed to give you a prolonged sexual build, so that by the time I got here, it wouldn"t cross your mind that you couldn"t climax. You were focused on pleasing me, on containing your release until I gave you permission to climax. And when you did climax, where did you experience it?”

“Everywhere.” It came to her lips without thought or analysis. She closed her hands fully on his waist, fingers sliding along his hips. Her most innocent touch could stir his cock, and he knew her body needed a rest, no matter that she would serve him until she dropped. He settled his hands on her wrists, stilling her.

“Though the sexual component is only a part of Tantra, the belief is that an orgasm should come from all parts of the body, not merely the sex organs. However, if I had to do it over again, knowing what I know now about you,” he slid his fingers into the spaces between hers, twining them together as he brought her closer, enjoying the press of her breasts through his shirt, the brush of her bare thighs against his in his snug boxers, “I wouldn"t be so heavy-handed. All I needed to achieve the same result was that collar.”

Releasing her hands, he slid his arms under hers, hooking his hands on her shoulders so he arched her away from him. Her pelvis pushed against his groin as he settled his mouth on her throat, and he savored the soft gasp of air from her parted lips, the loose way she gave herself over to his support of her body. “Even that might have been overkill. You"re such a responsive slave, I could have collared you with the brush of my lips here. And when I left you in the morning, I"d put one drop of my aftershave there as well, so you"d be captured by that scented mark.” All of that was true, but he also knew she craved a physical collar, something exactly like what he"d described to her in his office. That Neanderthal part of him wanted her wearing one, just as much. However, like the removal of the condom, all of that would have its time and place.

“That touch of aftershave, the way you"re reacting to how I"m kissing you now…

You already understand the way of it. Most people focus on cunt, cock, the same singular way they focus on the sex itself. The goal isn"t physical, though that"s a pleasurable side effect. Divine intimacy is the true ecstasy. A divine intimacy with each other and the energy that brings us together.”

Sliding his hands into her hair then, he let it spill over his hands. She"d caught on now and remained utterly motionless, her eyes closed, her expression concentrated on every contact point he was giving her. “You know all that though. You know that I could press a chain of those same kisses around your wrists and ankles, and you would consider yourself as restrained as if I used steel. If we"re at a restaurant, and I slide your blouse off your shoulder and make you leave it that way so I can toy with your bra strap, I"m exercising my right as your Master. That"s a caress you feel in your soul. Your orgasm comes all the way from there, if I"m doing it right.”

“You did it perfectly right last night.” Her voice thick, she lifted her lashes to gaze into his face. “Jon. I want to touch you. I want to give you that experience as well.”