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I closed my eyes and leaned against him. “I can’t have you dying for me. Do you understand? I can’t abide with anyone dying, or anyone getting hurt on my behalf. I’ll go give myself to the Russians first. I won’t have it, Michael, do you hear me?”
I could hear how I made no sense, and I was outright crying, but it seemed so important for him to give me his word that he’d be safe.
He turned me around and I placed my head on his chest, right below his good shoulder.
“Nothing is going to happen to me or anyone else.” He kissed my neck. “I promise you. You can trust me on this. I also promise you the only people who will die are anyone who tries to hurt you. After it’s over, I’ll come back and we can make some plans.Hold that in your head. I’ll come back and then we’ll make plans together.”
Michael pressed his finger inside of me, and his thumb found my clit. Immediately, he knew what to do, and I rocked into his slow rhythm. I tried to breathe, tried to think, but there was just what he was doing to me. “What kind of plans?” I managed to ask.
He nibbled on my neck. “The kind that we’ll talk about tomorrow, when no one is threatening your life anymore. I’ve had enough of Bridget Radford’s life being threatened. You’re mine. I take care of what is mine.”
“I want to be yours.” The words were practically wrenched from my throat. It was hard for me to say those kinds of things, almost impossible. I didn’t deserve to be his, despite him not fully understanding my responsibility in my own past. But knowing I didn’t deserve it didn’t change how badly I wanted it.
“Bridget.”
He swung me around and then we were out of the shower. He wrapped me in a towel, and after doing the same to himself, led me quickly across the house. The table was still covered in poker chips, I saw as we passed.He must have made them all leave. And then I was back in his bed.
He grumbled, “I don’t like you in that bed. I like you here. Shower in here from now on. Bring your shit in here. That’s what I want.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
“My shower is better than that one,” he promised.
I’d have to take his word for it until I tried it myself. But then he was inside of me. Gentle this time, almost trembling against me. I stared at him. He’d been rougher the last two times we did it, but he seemed so much more on edge this time. His body spoke what his words didn’t—he needed me right then, and he practically vibrated from being so lost to those needs.
I wrapped my legs around him and drew him tighter inside of me. I wouldn’t lose him.The universe can’tbe that cruel to us. He pressed in and out of me several times in rapid succession, and quickly I was coming. It was fast—stunningly quick for both of us—but I’d never stopped being wound up from earlier. It felt somehow different than the other times, like he looked for a connection with me. Needed it. We trembled with wanting to hold onto each other.
I kissed him when he came, reveling in the stark vulnerability on his strong face.
“Don’t lock doors on me, Bridget. Please don’t.”
Michael rolled me over and soon we were back under his covers, wound up in each other.This might be my favorite place on earth. Right there, in Michael’s dark room, under his covers, like they willcocoon both of us forever.
13
Morning always came, whether I wanted it to or not. Although we fell asleep around midnight, I didn’t stay that way. By one in the morning, I stared at the ceiling. Despite his proclamation that all would be fine, he had a nightmare about an hour after I woke up. He cried out just a little bit, softly, like he was scared. I wasn’t sure if he even realized that he made the noise.
I rubbed his hair out of his face and kissed his cheek gently, which roused him just enough to stop the nightmare. He pulled me closer and fell back asleep immediately. Did I need to consider his bad dream as a confession he carried more stress than he admitted? Or were the two things completely unrelated, because he regularly had those dreams, and I’d just slept through them so far? I didn’t know.
Those questions would wait for another day because I wasn’t reminding him of nightmares when he woke up. His alarm went off at six, and he rolled over fast, turning it off. He sat right up and then placed a comforting hand on my back.
“I tried to get it off before you woke. Sorry.”
I shook my head. “I’ve been up for five hours.”
He pulled me into his arms. “You should have woken me. We could have been up together, made love. I bet I could have gotten you back to sleep.”
I smoothed my finger down his nose. “That’s not your job. You needed sleep for what you have to do today. I don’t need to sleep to sit here and obsess.” I got out of bed. “I’m going to make you some coffee.”
He grabbed my arm. “Bridget, it will be okay today. I know you don’t have faith in my plans, especially since you’ve seen both me and Hope get shot. But believe it or not, I actually have a long history of these things going really well.”
I took his hand and brought it to my mouth, kissing his palm. “You had to rush in to save me. Hope’s plan was always going to be a problem, and she forced your hand to do it. Also, I saw you save Layla. I have no doubt you can get this done. I’m just nervous. I get to be nervous. You can’t talk me out of this one.”
He stared at me for a long moment and then nodded. “Okay.”
“You might want to reconsider being in love with me, Michael.” I called over my shoulder as I exited the room. “I might not be cut out to have a long-term relationship with a man who has a dangerous job. I might be like this every time you leave the house.”
Michael laughed, shouting after me. “Most of my job involves watching people do very boring things like I did the other night. I’m not reconsidering anything, Ms. Radford.”
