Impossible Odds: Rescue Team Nine (Book 3)

Chapter 24

Dice

"Wake up, sleepyheads."

I squint against the bright sunlight coming through the now open window. Gunner's voice breaks through one of the best dreams I've had in a long time. It warrants a nasty come-back, but before I can conjure one appropriate enough for the situation, I feel the weight of someone snuggled into my side. When I look down, I realize I wasn't dreaming after all. Curled into a ball next to me is the woman I dreamed about constantly over the last two years. I glance at my partner in astonishment. I hadn't believed she would stay. And it hits me. I slept with a woman. No sex. No nightmares. I can get used to this, except for the no-sex part. There's no way I'm letting her get away with that this morning. It's been too fucking long.

"I have to say I'm impressed. This is a first, isn't it?"

I know the goofy grin gracing my face will warrant jokes from my friend, but I don't give a fuck. She moves next to me, and when she stretches, I notice that the only fabric covering her is an oversized T-shirt. My T-shirt. The guys bought it for me years ago when they gave me the call sign 'Dice.' She stretches again, causing the cotton to ride up her thigh, revealing more than I want any man but me to see. I give my comrade a pointed look, but he's already gotten the hint. The door closes softly behind him just as she yawns. Her eyes slowly open against the onslaught of light.

"Good morning, beautiful."

She glances at me. It takes her a moment to focus, but when she does, she backs away to the edge of the bed. With her face scrunched up, she places a hand over her mouth.

"What's wrong," I ask, trying to hide my amusement.

"Morning breath."

I laugh. "Honey, it can't be any worse than mine. Haven't you ever slept all night with a man before?"

Shaking her head, she slowly lowers her hand. "No, have you?"

"With a man, no."

She laughs before picking up a pillow and swatting me with it. My laugh mingles with hers. "You know what I meant!"

"Oh. You mean with a woman." I shake my head. "Nope. I was never the staying kind."

She frowns, a move I dislike. I didn't intend to subdue the mood. "But hey, there's a first for everything, right?"

Lowering my eyes, I smile. I give her all the Dice charm I can muster this early in the morning. "Does that mean we're officially engaged? I mean, we did sleep in a bed together, after all."

I achieve what I want when she returns my smile. "I haven't decided yet."

Biting my lip, I grab her and tickle her. Her laughter fills the room between gasps. "Dice! Stop! You're not playing fair!"

I slow my hands long enough to whisper in her ear. "I can help you decide."

And suddenly, I want more. Pulling her toward me, I press one hand on the bed beneath us while holding her with the other. My lips seek hers. At first, she stiffens, but it's not long before she allows me the access I want. Laying her down on the sheets, we continue to re-discover each other. Running my hands down her side, I'm careful not to run into territory that will cause this moment to end too soon. I want to prove to her that she's not just a sex toy. I need this more than she will ever know. I've dreamed about her and fucked enough of her lookalikes in the last two years. Not once have I been able to purge her from my thoughts. I thought I was bad for her, but she's my drug, my high. I love her, and I will show her how much in whatever way she will allow. It's almost my undoing when she reaches up to grip a handful of my hair in her hands. I pull back and let my gaze tell her what I can't. Right now, even my ability to talk smoothly is nonexistent.

"I'm trying, Cloey. Damn hard. This isn't easy for me."

She leans up and kisses the corner of my mouth.

"I know," she whispers. "I'm done playing. Take me back and show me what it is to love."

I lean up to rake a hand through my hair. How long have I waited for those words without realizing how badly I wanted to hear them?

"Are you sure?"

"That I want to sleep with you or that I want to marry you? That sounds like a double question."

"Both," I answer without hesitation. I can feel myself sweating a little, and I never sweat, at least not where women are concerned.

"You're cute when you're nervous."

Studying her, I should have a smart remark to respond with, but I don't. She has me exactly where she wants me, and I suspect she knows it. I finally understand that deer in headlights look when some of the strongest men propose. I've concluded that women have a weapon over us in that aspect. It's their draw, and all we can do is sweat it out. And I'm definitely getting nervous about the look she's giving me, like she's trying to figure me out. It's so much easier being a playboy.

"Yes."

I swallow. "Yes, you'll marry me, or yes, you'll sleep with me?"

It seems ironic to ask the second question with our past looming behind us, but I respect her and want to make it right.

"Both."

I feel like jumping out of the bed and screaming from the rooftops. Instead, I settle for grabbing her back in my arms. The covers fall off, and I can't help but admire the woman I hold. She's everything I never knew I wanted.

A mischievous grin spreads across my face. I lean my forehead into hers. "Good, because I want that shirt back."

She allows me to raise the material over her head before grabbing the fabric. "Not on your life."

Kissing me, she maneuvers us where I'm on top of her. Running her hands down my arms, she caresses all the right places while her hands make their way to the waistband of my boxers. Without breaking the kiss, she lifts the material enough to get her hand inside. She begins to rub it along my already rock-hard dick. I groan.

"You aren't playing fair."

"It's mine," she whispers before settling the tip of my dick near her entrance. I can feel the lacy material of her underwear chafing my skin, but when she rubs herself against me, I don't give a damn.

"Hell, it looks better on you anyway."