AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He reached up, clasped the back of her neck and brought her face down to his. Dark, sensually drowsy eyes gazed into him, and his heart clenched so tight he feared it would break.
“I love you,” he told her softly. “More every day.”
“Lake,” she sighed, and then her lips were on his.
He held her tight, wrapping his arms around her as she made slow rhythmical movements with her hips that stroked his length deep inside of her and made all thoughts dissolve from his mind.
“My Lake,” she whispered against his lips.
Yeah, he was hers, and only hers.
Forever.
Ryan’s Heart
This story takes place after Ransom.
“I’m worried about you,” Ryan’s granddad said as they worked out together in the London office’s basement training room. Well, Ryan was working out. He wasn’t sure what the hell his granddad, Bill, and great-uncle, Bob, were doing.
“I’m fine,” Ryan said as he pummeled the speed bag.
“You haven’t been right since you came back from South America,” Bob said as he stripped down to his white long johns and ill-fitting white vest.
Ryan frowned at the man as he neatly folded his work overalls and put them on the bench beside the wall. “You know there’s a changing room, don’t you? With lockers and everything.”
“Doesn’t feel right using the lockers,” Bill said as he put his clothes beside his brother’s. “We’re only contractors, not part of the official team.”
“But you feel fine about using the workout room any time the fancy takes you?” Ryan said.
They shared a look before Bob answered, “Well, yeah. We’re semi-permanent contractors. That’s got to come with some perks.”
Their twisted logic almost brought a smile to Ryan’s face. Which would have been the first in months. The men weren’t semi-permanent anything. They’d just been hired to do some joinery work months earlier and had never left. Since retiring years earlier, they’d only taken the jobs that interested them, and apparently, Benson Security was fascinating because they’d been inventing reasons to hang around ever since they first walked through the door.
Of course, the fact they could hassle him while they were there was also one of their perks.
“He’s right, you know,” Bob said as he started his warm-up, which involved swinging his arms around aimlessly. “You haven’t been the same since you got back. You don’t smile so much.”
“Still eat a helluva lot though,” his granddad said with a grin.
That was true, but now every calorie he took into his body was turned into pure muscle. He’d bulked up quite a bit since the South American operation, gaining strength but losing none of his agility. Getting in peak form had taken a lot of hard work. It had also given him an excuse to come down to the basement and punch things whenever the need arose. Which was frequently. Mainly because he was mad that he’d been played for a fool by some woman he’d met in Peru.
He was tired of being seen as the team fool. Tired of being known for how much food he consumed and how much time he spent playing on his Xbox. He was just as well-trained as every other member of his team. More so than some. Megan had never spent time in the army. She hadn’t spent years taking on terrorists in Afghanistan. He was a professional, damn it. So what if he had crap taste in women and was easily suckered in by a pretty face? He sure as hell wasn’t going to be that gullible again.
“See what I mean?” His granddad’s words penetrated his thoughts. “He’s been full of anger since that trip. Always punching something.”
“Son,” Bob said. “You need to talk to somebody.” When Ryan glanced over at him, he threw up his hands. “Not me! Somebody else.”
“Not me either,” Bill said. “How about your grandmother? If you catch her on a night when she isn’t going to bingo, she’ll have plenty of time to listen. But not before Coronation Street. She’ll cut you off like you’re dead to her if that comes on the telly while you’re talking.”
“I’m not talking to Gran.” He steadied the speed bag and turned to the heavy bag. Talking to his family always brought on the urge to punch something, and hard. “I don’t need to talk to anybody. There’s nothing wrong.”
“There’s nothing wrong?” Bob said, two sets of overly hairy eyebrows shooting up as they both stared at him.
“Son,” his granddad said, “you’re spending so much time hitting things, you’re beginning to look like the termite man.”
Ryan stopped mid-punch and stared at the two tiny gnome-like men in
their long underwear. “Termite man?”
