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“Now I am actually worried.” Ambrose groaned as she walked away.

“Don’t be.” I resumed our trek to the exit before someone else could stop us.

“Easy for you to say. You’re always so unflappable.”

“Actually, no.” Pausing by the double doors, I turned to face him. “As a chief, especially at first, all I did was worry. Next mission, next day, next danger, next hiccup. But I eventually figured out that I couldn’t keep all my focus on what was coming. What was going to happen would happen, but what mattered was my preparation for the unexpected. So instead of worrying over things that could go wrong, I started assuming that things would go FUBAR at some point and I had to be ready for it.”

“That’s very wise advice.” Ambrose nodded slowly, intent expression saying he truly heard my words. My chest clenched. He made it so damn easy to share things I almost never voiced.

“Yeah, it’s easier said than done,” I admitted, taking his hand and leading him into the wide hallway outside the ballroom. “But sometimes the simplest details are the most important, like a good night’s sleep, hydration, and nutrition. Things you can control.”

“You’re right. If I’m going to lose sleep tonight, it better be for something fun.” He used our linked hands to pull me closer, and I happily went.

“That a hint?”

“More like a request.”

“Hmm.” I pretended to need to think. “I reckon I can distract you and put you to sleep.”

“I’m counting on it.”

So was I, which was probably something I should be concerned about, how much I was coming to count on him, want him, need him. But I took my own advice, letting go of the worries and resolving to give us both a night to remember.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Ambrose

“Dog. You better sleep.” I gave Hercules my sternest look as I let us back into our suite. Harley and I tossed our jackets over the small loveseat before I set the dog down on the footstool he’d adopted. I doled out an extra pat for good measure like that might serve to keep him there longer.

“I think the dog sitter wore him out.” Harley leaned down to pet the dog. “Maybe he’ll even sleep past his usual dawn wakeup call.”

“That would be nice.” I stepped closer as Harley straightened and placed a hand on his shoulder. “And unlike my exhausted pooch, I’m still all…awake.”

“Told you. I can wear you out.” Turning, he put his hands on my waist to close the rest of the distance between us.

“I’m ready.” I shivered at the contact, loving the warmth of his broad palm even through the fabric of my tuxedo shirt. “How would you like me?”

I didn’t want to presume too much about what Harley might be into. He’d said he enjoyed jerking off with other guys. He’d been up for kissing the night before, but if some of this was still new to him, I didn’t want to pressure him.

“Ha.” He snorted, apparently far less concerned than me. “Any way I can get you.” Chuckling, he gave me a fast kiss before pulling back. “But seriously, boss. What do you like? I know you said fucking isn’t always your jam, but I wanna know more about what turns your crank.”

“Oh?” Warmth snaked up my spine. “You taking requests?”

“Absolutely.” He gave me another kiss, lingering, turning pleasant heat to burning need.

“It’s not that I dislike fucking. I’ve never been much into topping, but there are times I really love getting fucked. However, I don’t always like how emotional and vulnerable I feel afterward, and I got tired of men who made me feel like crap for wanting it to mean something. So I’ve learned to be picky about who I do that with.”

“I get it.” He nodded solemnly. “Anyone who gives you shit about being too emotional or choosy doesn’t deserve to get you in bed.”

“Lord, how I wish I’d had your advice hanging around in my twenties.” And him. I wished I’d had him back then, someone who made me feel good with every kiss and touch, no layers of subtext to unpeel.

“Eh.” He blushed most charmingly. “Not sure I was all that wise back then myself. Now, tell me what else amps you up.”

Dipping his head, he kissed my neck. He was eerily good at memorizing my hot spots and undoubtedly didn’t need my direction. And for all I’d voiced reluctance about fucking, I’d go there with him. I trusted him in a way I had few other lovers, but I also loved the leisurely way he licked the tendons of my neck, no apparent need to rush things. It was a delight to be with someone who didn’t treat fucking as the ultimate sexual activity, with everything else second best. Harley seemed to find pleasure in all the same subtle touches and kisses I did, and his unhurried attitude toward sex made me crave him that much more.

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