“Babe, you know I don’t go down on you after I’ve come inside you. Get cleaned up.”
Excellent.
I grinned at him.
He scowled at my grin.
Then he muttered, “Wears me out.”
He was so full of it.
I took a leg from around him, planted my foot in the bed, rolled him to his back and I did all this while kissing him hard, wet and long.
When I was done, I lifted my head and whispered, “I’ll go get cleaned up.”
“Hurry, babe,” he ordered.
The kiss worked. Then again, I knew it worked because I ended it when his fingers dug in my ass which I’d learned was a sign Tack liked what he was getting.
Then again, my man always liked what I gave him.
So I gave him another grin.
Then I hurried.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Battle Scars
“Red.”
The door to the garage just opened and I hadn’t even got my head up to look that direction before I heard Tack’s gravelly voice say my name.
“Yeah, handsome?” I asked his head which was the only thing shoved through the door.
“Come into the garage,” he ordered and disappeared.
I got up, smoothed my tight skirt down my thighs and walked on my spike-heeled pumps around my desk to the door to the garage.
I did this happily, deciding not to get uppity about his order. And I did this mostly because we’d had a great night the night before and I was still riding that high.
It was Wednesday, two and a half weeks after the drama with Tabby and, fortunately, not much had happened. Or it had, just that all of it was good.
The hog roast had been a blast.
The trip down memory lane, tequila-infused sex-a-thon in Tack’s room at the Compound during/after was even better.
And last Saturday, Tack had driven his big Ford Expedition down the mountain to my house, Rush and Tabby trailing in Rush’s car. Once there, we’d loaded up a bunch of my stuff so I could move in with them.
Earlier in the week, while eating a dinner Tack wisely cooked (buttering them up, not, in the end, that they needed to be buttered) but before my introduction to the TV show Justified (and the dude who played the lead reminded me a lot of Shy, or at least his body did, and, incidentally the show was also good), Tack had shared the news I was moving in. Rush and Tabby, to my relief but not surprise, declared this “the shit”. Thus the five minute family meeting was over and the TV watching commenced.
Tack had ordered the recruits to move my furniture and anything else I didn’t take up the mountain to a storage unit. I was going to sift through it. Tack and I would decide what to switch out, what to add and what to get rid of. In the meantime, we were renting out my house and Tack declared we’d put it on the market, “When you’re ready, darlin’.”
I thought it was cool he didn’t rush me into this. Not that I needed an out. Just that things were happening fast. It felt less fast and more in my control knowing my house was still there. I was never going to move back, I loved my house but I loved Tack more and his house in the mountains was awesome. But at least the hold on my past was still in my grip and it was up to me when I was ready to let go.
I talked regularly to Lanie and she reported she and Elliott were doing “just fine”. She didn’t give a lot of detail on what they were doing but I guessed this was a Tack edict and this lack of information would keep me safe. I guessed this, I didn’t like this but I also didn’t question it. I had niggles of worry about it but my friend sounded happy. On my part, I shared with Lanie that I’d successfully helped her Mom with canceling all their wedding plans which was some serious work but it was also all done.
“And, maybe, soon, we’ll be home,” Lanie had said the last time I talked to her.