“Tomorrow.” Jane knew that would cut it close, but Marty would call if they had to clear out sooner.

  “Bossy old broad.”

  “I am.” Jane bent to kiss Rose on the forehead. “I have to be, to keep up with you.”

  “I’ve never stayed in bed so long.” Rose lifted her face, kissed Jane’s chin. “Never.”

  “Not even that weekend in St. Maarten?” That had been epic.

  Rose chuckled, and that small sound grew into an honest laugh. “Okay, okay. I’ve never stayed in bed so long without orgasms.”

  “Now, that I can believe.”

  She grabbed a brush and started working on Rose’s hair, carefully untangling the bright red curls. Her girl needed another bath, but that would take energy she didn’t want Rose to waste. It was enough to focus on not pulling, not tugging at all. No hurting.

  Rose hummed and closed her eyes, the noise one of pleasure.

  Oh, there. There, that sound warmed her, deep in her gut. She hadn’t heard that in far too long, and she craved it. She spent an hour, just smoothing and combing, Rose calm and heavy against her.

  Then she curled up with her girl, knowing the electronic sensors she’d set up a few days back would ping her cellphone if someone was coming.

  Rose kissed her shoulder, the touch featherlight and so soft.

  “What do you think about a convertible when we get to Italy?”

  Oh, look at that smile. “A red one?”

  “Well, that would clash with your hair, but if you insist.”

  “I’ll wear it up in a babushka.”

  “I think a pretty scarf would do. They sell a lot of silk ones in Italy.”

  Rose rested against her, lips brushing her jaw, the touch a butterfly kiss. She seemed content to let Jane talk, so Jane nattered about leather shoes and trips to Capri. She made promises too, hidden ones, about forever and about love.

  Once she let herself, she turned into a sap in a damn hurry.

  Rose’s fingers stayed curled in hers, holding on and petting her. She ran her thumb over the back of Rose’s hand, slipping over the bruises, which were fading there.

  “Mmm. I’m healing, I think.”

  “I think so too.” She just needed to keep it that way.

  “I keep processing the whole thing—it’s still weird.” Rose’s lips twisted. “Burned. Me. I’m the good one, right?”

  Jane got a wink.

  “You are. I’m the one who’s gone rogue twice and it took until now to hit me. And Ben. Jesus, he’s like chaotic neutral in that geek game.”

  “Like you didn’t play it in high school.” Oh, her Rosie knew her.

  She let an evil grin curve her lips. “I shot a lot of cans too.”

  “I bet you did. Little cowgirl in jeans with a BB gun.”

  “You know it. I had pink boots and blonde pigtails.” She’d been the cowboy her father had prayed for, and Dad had loved her, to the bone, up to the day he’d been thrown. She was glad, now, that he hadn’t lived to get Alzheimer’s or heart failure or some shit. He’d gone quick and hard, just like he’d lived.

  “I bet you were adorable. I was the geeky girl, glasses and long dresses and cardigans.”

  “Did you shave your legs?”

  “I didn’t have to until I was almost grown.”

  “No kidding?” Jane peeked at Rose’s legs. Not bad for so many days in a box.

  “I’m a natural redhead.”

  “I know. I was looking at your hairy legs, baby.”

  “Hey!” Rose’s laugh made Jane smile, almost as much as the flick of the sheets back over her legs.

  “You look beautiful to me, no matter what.”

  “Flatterer.” Rose’s eyes flashed up to her, though, and she knew the words had hit home.

  “I keep hoping it will get me somewhere.” She stroked Rose’s skin, right there at the collarbone.

  Oh, look at her girl, nipples going tight and a sweet, dark pink. They couldn’t tear each other up, but Jane needed to believe that Rose still wanted her, still wanted them. Together.

  She could do gentle. She hoped.

  They’d just have to see.

  At first, Jane just touched, petting the fine curve of Rose’s chest, the hollow of her throat. She needed to feel that skin, make sure there was nothing else she needed to fix. The low-grade fever seemed to be gone, the bruises… Well, okay, those were hideous, still. None of them produced a terrible noise when touched, though.

  In fact, Rose’s face was relaxed, lips parted. She was so pretty that Jane had to kiss her, lightly, not pushing. Rose’s tongue touched her bottom lip, stroking gently.

  That was it. They kissed, long, leisurely touches that went on and on.

  Rose’s good hand touched her belly, fingers sprawling out and feeling her. She sucked in a breath, the contact almost painful it was so necessary. The touch moved slowly, the creeping heat nearly unbearable.

  Jane squeezed her legs together, needing the friction.

  “I’ve got you, love.” Rose’s fingers cupped her mound, tickling and teasing through her curls, beginning to open her folds. She was already damp and was heading for slick.

  “Don’t overdo it.” She meant it. She didn’t want Rose tiring herself out.

  “I promise. I just need to touch you, know you still want me.”

  “Oh, I do. Feel.” She rocked back and forth on Rose’s fingers.

  Rose teased her, fingers slipping on her lips, spreading her wetness and making her shiver, a ball of passion forming at the pit of her stomach.

  Jane plucked at Rose’s nipples, then slid her hand down over Rose’s belly, watching her girl open up for her. She thought about telling Rose to say if she needed to stop, but Rose knew that. Rose was strong, sure. They had this.

  She pushed two fingers down to Rose’s cunt, using her fingertips to spread her, opening her up for more touch. The heat pouring off her lady was welcome, wonderful, and she dipped in to roll Rose’s clit, nudge it gently, the tiny bundle of nerves swelling for her.

  “Jane…” Rose nodded, fingers sliding along either side of Jane’s clit, teasing her, tempting her to roll her hips, get more of the delicious tingling pleasure.

  “Uh-huh. Gonna make you feel good, baby. Just like you do for me.”

  “Want to.” Rose moaned and shifted, and Jane got a pillow to protect that poor broken arm. Once she got them settled, she worked her way back to Rose’s side, kissing that sweet mouth.

  It was harder for Rose to touch her like this, the angle awkward, but Jane wasn’t worried. This was about her girl, about remembering pleasure. They could get to the gymnastics later, when Rose was healed. She bent, licking at one hard little nipple.

  It drew up, pretty as you please, and begged for more attention. She gave it, leaning in and wrapping her lips around the pink areola and tugging hard, eyes closing as she sucked. Rose tasted more like herself now, less like soap and antiseptic. Jane craved the flavor of that tender skin.

  It took a few minutes of suction before the tiny cries started, the moans shaped like the sound of her name. She switched to the other breast, then, determined to get more.

  “Jane. Jane, love.” Rose arched, pushing deeper into her lips.

  “Mmm.” She wasn’t about to stop to talk.

  Her fingers stroked over Rose’s clit, touching it with a featherlight stroke, building the need inside her lady. She circled, then pressed, then circled again, varying the speed and pressure.

  Rose’s moans started soft, then grew and grew, getting stronger, more hungry. The prickle of tears in Jane’s eyes surprised her. She might have lost this. No, she hadn’t, though, and she wasn’t going to now. She’d keep Rose healthy and happy.

  And well fucked.

  Jane groaned and pulled firmly, two fingers pressing deep into Rose as her thumb kept working, pressing that tiny bundle of nerves.

  Rose undulated, a slow roll of muscle and skin that left Jane’s mouth dry.

  “Please, Jane.”

  “I want to taste you, baby, make you come for me.”

  Rose sobbed her agreement, and Jane licked her way down, kissing the soft curve of Rose’s amazing belly, the indentation of her navel. Her chin touched the springy curls, and she rubbed her cheek on Rose’s thigh. Like she’d nudged a button, Rose opened up to her, spread, and the scent of pure need made Jane groan. She ducked her head, tongue sliding, teasing the very top of Rose’s slit.

  She licked, exploring a little, the taste of her girl on her tongue. Sweet lady.

  Rose’s clit was swollen, begging for attention, and she dragged her tongue around it, teasing, loving the sounds that drew. Jane began to work her fingers in time with her mouth, slipping two of them into Rose’s cunt.

  Her girl was wet and slick, folds slippery against her fingers, and when Jane wrapped her lips around that needy clit, Rose’s body clenched. God, yes. Rosie tasted so feminine, so earthy.

  She held that sensitive nub between her lips, flicking it gently with her tongue, looking to make Rose moan.

  “Jane.” Rose tugged at her short hair. “Please, lover.”

  That was what she wanted, that need, that passion. She wanted Rose to come, to release all those happy endorphins.

  She fucked Rose, steady and slow, two fingers finding a rhythm that had her girl shaking, shuddering against her. Soon. It had to be soon. It took two hard pulls of her lips on that needy clit, and her Rose lost it, bucking and crying out, stiff as she humped against Jane’s face.

  Perfect. So damn good to hear that sound, feel that shaking,

  Jane kept going until Rose slumped down, breathing hard, moaning her name.

  Then she petted those sweet curls, loving on her.

  “Oh. Oh better.” Rose offered her a goofy, dazed grin. “Wow.”

  “I thought that might help, honey.” All that feel-good in the parasympathetic nervous system…

  “So much better.”

  Jane nodded, kissed the curve of Rose’s belly. She was addicted to making Rose feel good. This was going to be her new full-time job.

  The pay wasn’t great, but the benefits rocked.

  Chapter Twelve

  Rose knew they had to go.

  There was no way they could stay still, stay here like sitting ducks. She could feel the pressure weighing on her, and Jane was starting to show cracks around the edges. Now, if her body would just catch up with her brain. She knew it was always worse once things started to heal, but this stiffness was ridiculous.

  Her feet were the worst; they itched and burned, ached bone-deep. Bastards, hitting them over and over. She woke up every so often kicking at them, even though they weren’t there.

  Still, it was time. She brushed out her hair, braiding it quickly, getting it off her face.

  “Hey, baby. You look bright eyed and bushy tailed.”

  “Time to stop being in bed, lady. They’re going to find us.”

  “They are.” Jane’s hair was back to her messy dark blonde, and she looked like a redneck soccer mom. So cute.

  “Well, I’m not in the mood for hand-to-hand combat right now, so we need to get the fuck out of Dodge.” She was pretty sure it would be a couple more weeks before her arm was up to a fight.

  “I like it when you get your smart on.” Jane nodded sharply. “I got us packed.’

  “Good deal. I need some socks and a pair of your shoes.” She looked at herself in the mirror, the bruises still lurid as fuck.

  “And pants.” Jane’s eyes twinkled.

  “Picky picky. I was considering just using the sheet as a toga.”

  “This is the deep south. Toga parties are the shit.” Handing over a soft pair of pants and a t-shirt, Jane went to the bathroom.

  She managed to get the shirt on her broken arm and then finagle the rest, sweating like mad by the end.

  “Sit a minute, baby.” Jane handed her a bottled water, and she knew she had passed a test.

  Fucking world. Fucking tests.

  She sucked the water down, the liquid cold enough to make her stomach cramp.

  “Easy.” Jane sat next to her, bumping her good arm.

  “I’m good. I am.” She was upright and functional.

  “I know. I just want to make sure you can make it to the car.”

  I can. I won’t slow us down, lady. You have my word.” She’d already fucked up enough. She wouldn’t put Jane in the crosshairs more than she had already.

  “Hey. I’m not an ops manager. I’m just your lover, okay? Ops were over the second they tried to hang Shelly’s hit on you.”

  “I know. That makes it more important. Way more.” She hadn’t been without a handler since she’d been recruited when she was nineteen, picked up during an anti-fracking protest that had grown teeth.

  God, she’d been young.

  Laughing, Jane hugged her a little, warm and giving. “Love you, lady. Stop thinking so hard and let’s move.”

  “Love.” She leaned in, resting hard against the firm, solid body. Jane smelled so good—vanilla, basil and gun oil. It was as comforting as a fuzzy pair of socks in winter. “Do you have a plan?”

  “Florida. We have a huge variety of airports and ports, and I know Marty has a forger there.”

  Florida. All the nuts rolled downhill, she supposed. “We’re driving, yeah?”

  “We are.” Jane glanced at her sideways, lips quirking in a grin. “I am.”

  “Yeah. The accelerator could be tender after about, oh, a millisecond.”

  “Uh-huh. It would suck hard. I’m gonna go check the perimeter cameras. I got me an itch.”

  That was never good.

  “I’ll get my socks and shoes—” Alarms went off, deep inside the house, and she stood, grabbing their toiletries off the counter where they’d kept them in go-ready mode. “Your itch was late. Time to go.”

  “Shit. They’ve driven on the property. We’ve got five minutes, tops.” Jane stuffed a few more things into a bag and grabbed her Glock.

  “Give me a piece.” Rose slipped the ammo bag on her shoulder, then the electronics.

  “You want the Ruger?”

  “MK III?”

  “Only the best for my girl.” Jane grabbed two sawed-off shotguns and a semiautomatic rifle and a wad of cash as big as her head. “Ready?”

  “Always.” The options were getting away or getting dead. That was it.

  “Yeah.” They managed to get everything in the car at the two minutes and twenty second mark, Jane’s phone buzzing as they sat. She looked, started the car, the Bluetooth picking up. “Marty.”

  “Aaron killed Ben.”

  “Shit.” Jane blew out a hard breath but the motion of the car backing out of the driveway didn’t slow. “I’m sorry, buddy.”

  Ben had been one of them when Rose was still in diapers. Ben was a fucking legend.

  “I’m not. He was dying. Cancer. It hurt. This was way more fun than puking up his guts and shitting himself to death.” Marty sighed. “Tell me you’re moving. They’re heading your way, girls. You need to hustle.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Heading? Marty, the alarms are going off.”

  “Rosie? That you? They break anything important?”

  “No, asshole. It’s Jane’s other woman. You remember, the cute one?”

  “Ah, right. The one in the corset.” Marty laughed. “Good to know.”

  “Okay, the alarms are going wild, man.” Jane didn’t look like she was having fun, pushing the SUV through a bit of underbrush that swung open to expose a theoretically paved trail.

  “Yeah, I’m behind the first wave. Don’t stress your former handler. He’s on my plate now. The guy’s that are coming, they’re Feds and Homeland Security.”

  She looked at Jane and pulled the shotgun from the back seat, just in case.

  Jane pulled up, then threw the engine in park and jumped out, resetting the camouflaged gate.

  Marty’s voice was low. “You girls need to get out of there. Check in with me when you have a new phone. I’m going to hang back.”

  Rose nodded, even though Marty couldn’t see her. “See you, Martin. Have a good one.”

  The gate reset, Jane slid back in the driver’s seat and started moving. Rose could only guess how many hundreds of times her lady had practiced this getaway, not even seeming to pay attention as the barely visible road twisted and turned.

  Jane headed out, driving slow and quiet, pushing through the trees. The underbrush was heavy, almost impassable, but Jane just kept moving, pushing the car like a metal rhinoceros into the brush.

  “Don’t worry, Rosie. I know where I’m going.”

  “I know you do.” She patted Jane’s leg. “I’m sorry. I know you like this house.”

  “I do. I love you, though, and we’ll have a new house.”

  “We will.” They had spent long hours in bed talking about Tuscany or Amalfi and the villa they would have. How they would make love in the late afternoon sun and drink wine they had to strain through their teeth. The coffee too. Lord, they had good coffee in Italy.

  After a good twenty minutes, the underbrush started to clear, the sky blue and bright above them. “We’re almost there, Rose.”

  “I’ve got your back.”

  Jane nodded, then leaned over and pulled a garage door opener from the glove compartment. “There’s batteries in there. Find them and put them in.”

  Jane turned onto a potted road, the car’s shocks protesting.

  It took her a minute to get the batteries in with her fucked-up arm, but she did it. “Okay, done.”

  “Just hold on a sec.” Jane swerved to miss a pothole the size of a small third-world country.

  The sound of a heavy vehicle rattled down the road opposite them. Man, they were sending troops. Rose was flattered.

  “Okay, baby. Hit the button.”

  “You’re gonna let them in?” She did it, though, trusting Jane with all her heart.

  The explosion that sounded almost knocked them off the frontage road and Rose looked back over her shoulder, feeling a little like Lot’s wife. The column of fire that was rising up into the sky was spectacular as fuck.

  “Wow.”

  Jane nodded. “That’ll keep them busy for a couple hours.”

 

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