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His shrug was more of a terse jerk. “It was easier just to…let it be, I guess. I’d come home from missions, strung-out and jet-lagged, and just craved that last rush of adrenaline to fully drain me so I could sleep for days.” He lifted his head, glancing to her with bleak eyes. “I became the Dom I swore I’d never be. Just in it for the flogging and the fucking.”
Tracy took a second before nodding. She let him—and perhaps herself—know that the words had truly sunk in. It wasn’t an easy task, realizing she had to yank him down from the stars, where he’d been existing as honor-bound warrior and lover, down to the earth of a human man, warrior nonetheless, who had issues to overcome after dealing with the uglier side of protecting his country.
But once she did…
He was even more beautiful to her.
Because he was more real.
All of that clamored in her throat, begging her for freedom, but she kept it back with a careful swallow and instead asked, “So what happened?” And yes, forced the remainder of that out too. “Or…has it? Is she expecting you to call her for another round of things soon?”
“No.” He snapped it so swiftly, she knew it was the truth. “God no,” he reiterated, confirming her belief. “Not after…everything that finally did happen.”
She bundled an inch closer to him. “It’s okay.” Squeezed his hand and pressed his chest. “I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere.”
Though he flung a taut gaze, all but disbelieving her, he ticked out a fast nod. “It was about ten months ago. I was awaiting word for a mission; knew I could be called out to JBLM for deployment at any minute, but the waiting was driving me nuts.”
“So you called Abbie,” she filled in.
Another brusque nod. “We chose to meet at Bastille, as always.” That was the last of anything easy about his expression. His jaw hardened like magma hitting ice. His gaze turned just as black. “But I was restless, tired of everything being ‘as always.’ I told Abbie as much. She actually seemed excited about the idea—which sure as hell gunned my rockets.”
Tracy fought for a patient smile but failed. “Please tell me I don’t have to like this part.” Progressive and objective only went so far. The idea of any other woman “gunning his rockets”, and Miss Sweetness-and-Light officially took a hike.
Franz shifted his hand, cupping her chin, before coaxing her up for his savoring kiss. “I’ll skip to the relevant part.”
“Correct answer.” She initiated a kiss, just to let him know she approved of his answer on all fronts. “So…what happened?”
He exhaled once more. “I played her hard—that’s what happened. Probably harder than I ever had before. It was…an intense session.”
Her brows crunched. “Well, that sounds pretty damn nice. Unless…” Something pinched her mind and refused to let go. “Unless she safe worded?” There was more to the conclusion but she couldn’t summon the words to her lips. They consumed her mind though. Unless she safe worded…and you ignored her?
Franz’s face expanded with shock, exposing how he’d taken her lead and run with it anyway. “No,” he pronounced. “She didn’t safe word.” His grip coiled tighter. His eyes slammed shut again. “Though damn, it would’ve been so much easier if the little fool had.”
Icicles stabbed her spine. “What…do you mean?”
He gulped hard. Reopened his gaze, only to hurl his focus across the room again. He was lost to memories.
Dark, difficult ones.
“No,” he muttered then. “She wasn’t the only fool in the room. I knew better. I should have been paying closer attention. Watching for the signs.”
“What signs? John?” Tracy tugged on the front of his shirt, forcing him to face her again. “What signs?” She bit out both syllables through her teeth, continuing their painful clench when he glanced down, blinking as if barely recognizing her.
Just before a wave of fresh rage claimed every inch of his face.
Through his own clenched teeth, he uttered at last, “Abbie’s diabetic.” He took another long pause, obviously searching for words. “It was never an issue, because we always made sure she was at an acceptable blood sugar level for her submissive duties. Before a stitch of her clothes came off, I made her take a reading and show it to me.”
“And you didn’t that night?” The question was a welcome distraction. Nearly every cell in her brain, and tissue in her sex, had stopped back at submissive duties. Where could she sign up for some of that…whatever it was?
“Of course we did,” he returned. “Her readings weren’t negotiable.”
“But something went wrong anyway.” Talk about a subject to calm the libido.
He shifted. Again. “Like I said, the session got…” A massive breath heaved through his chest. “Well, it was powerful shit. I was keyed-up about the mission; she’d just gained some massive market share for her show…and in the places I’d normally stop to let her rest or rehydrate, she yelled at me for more.”
Tracy’s eyes bulged. “She yelled at you?”
“Submissives being denied orgasms often do do that.”
