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If there was a later…
The sounds of male voices jerked Matt’s attention back out the window. The sight of a few familiar faces had him sagging with relief. “Jesus, it’s just Jack. He came with company.”
Madison pressed a hand to her chest as she exhaled. “Oh, thank god.”
He turned back to her with a smile and realized she’d braced a few feet behind him, gripping the gun that looked too big for her small hands, wearing nothing more than his T-shirt. It hung to her elbows and knees and covered the essentials…but it was obvious she wasn’t wearing a stitch underneath.
“Put more clothes on.”
She glanced down at herself. She’d probably tossed on the first thing she could find and hadn’t worried about a dress code for a gun fight. But a rapping on the door told him it was too late.
Jack let himself in. “If anyone’s indecent, cover up now. I don’t want to see that shit.”
“What the fuck?” Matt set his Glock aside. “You scared the hell out of us.”
The Cajun grimaced, his expression rife with apology. Then he looked the two of them up and down, brow raised. Matt was conscious of his disheveled hair and his bare torso.
Deke filed in behind him, followed by One-Mile. They stared, too. He glanced down and grimaced at the long red scratches across his torso. He’d forgotten Madison had raked her nails down his chest overnight when he’d awakened her with his tongue on her pussy, then set her astride him for an explosive orgasm.
“Why is everyone blocking the door?” Ethan Garrison barged in.
The bastard’s gaze immediately zipped to Madison, devouring her from head to toe. Matt swore. Even from a distance, there was no missing her nipples poking the front of his white shirt. He stopped in front of Ethan and blocked his gaze.
“Madison…” Matt flipped a stare over his shoulder at her, his voice a warning.
She nodded and slipped into the bedroom. The door shut with a quiet click.
For a long moment, no one said a word.
“You two don’t look like you’ve suffered too much the last twelve days,” Deke remarked. “That’s some serious sex hair.”
Matt tried not to bristle. Yeah, they’d passed the time in each other’s arms, but no amount of pleasure he’d given her could diminish the way she’d suffered. “Listen, I know you’ve been trying to broker a deal on her behalf, so I appreciate that, but save the sophomoric jokes. She’s falling apart.”
“Really?” Ethan licked his lips. “She looked mighty fine to me.”
Matt clenched his fists. “I’m going to fucking beat you, you son of a bitch.”
“You can’t. The bosses need me for an op.” The bastard sent him a smarmy grin. “Sucks to be you.”
“Hey, buddy.” Pierce clapped his arm, his expression calming. “Good to see you. How about we take it down ten notches and peel ourselves off the ceiling, huh? We need to talk.”
Scrubbing a hand down his face, Matt nodded. He made a mental note to thank his best friend later for preventing him from making a total ass of himself. “Sure. Brea and the kids okay?”
“They’re great. I won’t ask how you’re holding up.” One-Mile winced. “How’s Madison doing?”
“It’s been day by day. The waiting is wearing on her.” Matt turned to Deke. “Do you have anything?”
The men all exchanged a glance. The air took on a sudden gravity he didn’t like.
“Yeah. I’ve got a counter to Madison’s proposal.”
“Tell me.”
At the sound of her voice, everyone looked her way. She padded down the hall, toward them, now dressed in yoga pants. She’d tied the long ends of his overlarge shirt in a knot at her waist. She still wasn’t wearing a bra, and he hated the way Ethan was taking advantage of the view. But if Deke was here with some goddamn information, her lack of undergarments wasn’t their biggest issue.
“Stop gawking,” he barked at the punk.
Ethan looked Madison up and down. “I don’t see your ring on her finger.”
