I leaned forward and held my fingers over the keyboard, but for a second, I just sat here. This was the life. This really was the life. A smile spread across my cheeks, and I leaned forward to get on with it.

  The words flowed easily, beautifully, and for a full hour I wrote without interruption.

  Dom

  I leaned against the wall with a toothpick in my mouth. It was minty and maybe that was a sign I was letting San Francisco get to me a little bit. In New York, it’d be pretty damn hard to find people chewing minted toothpicks, but here they seemed to be everywhere.

  Sebastian had his elbow on the desk as he smiled at the receptionist. He’d cut his hair shorter than it was when we were kids, short on the sides and longer on top. A hipster-cut, I called it, and he just smiled. He wore his Special Ops uniform, all black, and his smile came easily like it always did.

  “So we can call it a date?” he said.

  The receptionist was blonde and stick-thin with so much lipstick on her face she must’ve bankrupted a store just to make it happen. She giggled, smiling widely. “You’re a cheeky one, aren’t you?”

  Sebastian shrugged. “I reckon cheeky works as well as any other word to describe me, yeah.”

  Outside, I said, “Can’t we go anywhere without you pulling this shit?”

  He smiled, swaggering to the car. Tucking her phone number into his breast pocket, he shook his head in mock disdain. “What can I say? The ladies love me. It’s not my fault, is it?”

  “Not your fault…” I shook my head. “Whose fault is it, then?”

  We climbed into the car and Sebastian tossed me a wink. “God’s, for making me so damn irresistible.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh at that, but the laugh died a second later when it occurred to me, reoccurred as it had been all damn day. The ring box was burning a hole in my pants pocket.

  “Pretty soon it’s gonna burn a fucking hole in my leg. It’s like that ring from those movies you and Anthony used to watch.”

  Sebastian laughed. “You mean The Lord of the Rings?”

  “Yeah, that’s the one.”

  “Try not to worry so much, man. She likes you. Shit, she loves you and she’s having your babies. What’s there to be nervous about?”

  “We can’t all be as carefree as you, bro.”

  “Can’t we?” He sat back in the passenger seat with his hands behind his head. “It’s hard not being carefree when here we are, state-side, nobody trying to kill us and all the pretty girls a man could ask for.”

  “I only want one pretty girl, though.”

  “Yeah, no shit. I was talking about me.”

  As we came to a stop behind a traffic light, two twenty-somethings strutted by with their skirts hugging their bare suntanned thighs. Immediately Sebastian was eyeing them with one eyebrow raised. “A city of wonders,” he murmured as I pulled away.

  “You’re a dog.”

  “Yeah. I won’t argue against that.”

  “You’ll find a girl someday,” I told him. “A girl who’ll make you want to quit all this shit.”

  “Really?” He tilted his head at me. “She’d have to be one hell of a lady. And I ain’t looking.”

  “But that’s just it, Bash. You don’t have to be looking for them to find you.”

  He shrugged. “I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”

  After I dropped him off, I drove to our house. San Francisco was blazing today. Silvio had called me up yesterday with a growl in his voice. “We’re freezing our asses over here, boss!”

  I laughed and said, “Yeah, what about that pay bump? That don’t make up for it at all?”

  I paused outside our front door, my hand in my pocket, gripping the ring box as though I was trying to break it. I’d rehearsed the scene in my head dozens of times, and each time she said yes. Of course she’d say yes. Sebastian was right. She loved me and I loved her. Yet logic didn’t always soothe a man’s heart, and right now mine was banging around in my chest like one hell of a motherfucker.

  I pushed the door open and walked through the living room, toward the sound of key-tapping. I stopped in the kitchen, resting my elbow on the island—hand-crafted oak—and just watched her for a little while. She was like an angel sitting there as she typed, taking a slow sip of iced tea and then returning to the tapping.

  She craned her neck, tilted it from side to side, rolled it on her shoulders, and let out a huff as she closed the laptop. She stood up, turned, and jumped a little. She giggled and put her hand over her chest. “Are you trying to scare me into an early labor?”

  I grinned and walked over to her, kissing her on the lips, losing myself in the kiss for a long time because there was just something about the way she tasted. Her lips sealed to mine like they were made for me, and mine were made for hers. But then I put my hands on her shoulders and pushed her back softly.

  “Wait,” I said, moving my hand over her five-month bump. “There’s something I need to say.”

  “Okay.”

  When I fell to one knee, she took a step back, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. My tag-along, the most beautiful woman in the world, looked like she might faint. But she was stronger than that.

  “Dom.”

  “Emma Greene,” I said. “I know I can be a real pain in the ass sometimes, and I know I gave you a whole lot of shit at the start of our relationship, and I know that some days I can still really drive you crazy.”

  Her emerald-greens twinkled; tears clung to her eyelashes. “In a good way.”

  “But if you’ll have me, I promise to work every day to make our life the best it can be. For you, and for our children. Emma Greene, will you marry me?”

  With a squeal she leapt up and down. “Yes, yes, yes!” she cried. “Oh, Dom, yes!”

  “Give me your hand, then!” I commanded with a grin.

  I took the sparkling diamond from the ring box and slid it onto her finger.

  It fit perfectly.

  The End

  Savage Protector Preview

  Prologue

  "You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?" I pulled her close, being a little rough. Ten days of having my cock ache over her were more than enough. "You should realize that there is only so much playful teasing a man can take."

  "If you start this and stop in the middle again, I'll throw you down the stairs." She cupped her hands over mine and stepped closer.

  Every cell in my body screamed for release.

  "You're not big enough to do that, and I'll give you one chance to walk away from me. Go if you even doubt that I'm going to take it easy on you. I haven't been with a woman in too long. I can't be gentle, not with how bad I need you right now."

  The resolution in her eyes was all I needed. She wanted this more than I did, which seemed impossible.

  "Good," I whispered and kissed her hard as I slid my hands down her soapy back. I cupped her perfect ass and pressed on the back of her thighs as I lifted. She wrapped her legs around me like a good girl and clung to me as I jogged us down the stairs to my bedroom.

  I sucked my way down her neck and kissed the top of her tits before my legs bumped into the bed. "I want to taste you. Get on your knees for me."

  She whispered but rolled onto her stomach and lifted to her hands and knees like a kitten in heat. "Please don't stop."

  "That's not something you're going to have to worry about." I pulled my shirt over my head and let my inhibitions go as I sunk to my knees. Wrapping her in a tight hug, my arms around her thighs, I leaned in and pressed my tongue to her pink flower.

  The sound of her crying out in pleasure drove me to suck, lick, and probe faster. The taste of her coming almost had me losing my own load.

  Good thing we had to meet her father for brunch. Otherwise, she'd have a long eight to ten hours of me fucking every opening she'd let me have access to.

  I was starving, and she was my buffet.

  One

  Layla

  No place I’d rather be than right here.

  "Alright. Now listen up."

  I glanced around the classroom, my hand raised as I prepared to lead my mini-musicians in one more piece for the day.

  "This one is not easy. I see the stress on some of your faces, but remember, this is what sight reading is all about. You get a new piece of music, and you have to play it right away. Deep breath."

  Their collective chests lifted. The sound of someone letting out a toot resounded in the back, and everyone cracked up.

  I'd lost them.

  It was a regular occurrence, but I loved every second of it.

  "Really?" I lifted on my toes and gave the back row of rowdy boys a look. "Hold your hot air in for your instruments, okay?" More laughter. I offered a smile and nodded.

  "On my count. Ready?" I glanced down at Hannah, a petite flutist, who lifted her head, her eyes filled with hero worship. Certainly, it wasn't directed at me, but I was the only one up front. Maybe her mind was in a different place.

  The bottom third of her flute started to slide toward the floor as the class began to play the piece of music. I dropped my hand and let out a yelp as I jumped off the conductor podium and leaned over her stand, grabbing the shiny silver tube as it dropped.

  "Whew. That was close." I handed it back to her. "Don't put so much grease on the tubing, okay?"

  Her eyes began to water in unison and my heart almost stopped. "I'm so sorry, Miss Sommers." Before I could respond, she pressed her little chin to her chest, her face downcast as if I'd yelled at her in front of everyone.

  I reached over and placed my fingers under her chin, gently forcing her to look up at me. "Hey. It's all good, okay? Nothing to worry about. No one was hurt, no instruments dented, and no animals were harmed in the making of this music."

  The class broke into laughter as Hannah smiled at me, her tears a sign of her sweet, angelic little heart.

  "Okay. Thanks, Miss Sommers." She wiped her tears away as I moved back. She lifted her flute to her lips, nodding at me with a determination in her eyes. Kids were resilient and breathtakingly beautiful in their willingness to try again.

  I wished my resolve was that firm, but life had handed me lemon after lemon. I wasn't sure I had a yearning for lemonade anymore.

  Perhaps a Diet Coke or a glass of whiskey?

  A smirk tugged at my lips. My father would have been proud to hear me contemplating hanging out with Jack and Jim. They were a man's drink and a woman's release. I'd roll my eyes at him, much like my mother had when she was alive and giving us both hell day in and day out.

  "Miss Sommers? You still here?" Bart, a portly kid in the front row, waved his flute back and forth.

  I laughed and lifted my hands. "Of course. Lift your instruments on three. One. Two. And Lift." I lifted my hand and started the cadence as they bobbed their heads. A moment later, music filled the room, and my soul expanded with it.

  It was, after all, my release.

  My father, the DA of Chicago, didn't approve of my career path, but it wasn't his choice to make. He'd been squawking in my ear for six years over the fact that I was “wasting my life,” but he had no idea how much I actually lived standing on the small make-shift podium beneath me, watching a group of future leaders make something out of nothing.

  Music was the essence of my life, the evidence of the spirit. It filled the air with its haunting melody and wrapped around me so tightly that at times, I could never part my ways with it even if I wanted to.

  A life shadowing my father's ambitions would have resulted in me becoming a very different woman, one who had no concept of hope in the center of tragedy. Tragedy was something I knew about, rather intimately. Losing my mother had almost crippled me, then the second worst day of my life came when I was stood up at the altar, but my passion for children and music dragged me through the longest of nights.

  "Beautiful!" I smiled and clapped my hands, bouncing on my feet.

  The class smiled back at me, and a soft voice whispered from the front row.

  Sweet little Hannah.

  "You're so pretty when you smile. I hope I'm pretty like you one day." The girl's eyes widened as she clasped her hand over her mouth, her cheeks reddening. The sweet thing hadn't meant to say it out loud, but I was beyond appreciative that she did.

  After two years of being single, feeling pretty was rare.

  "Thank you! You're already way ahead of me." I winked at her and lifted my hands. "You guys sounded like angels and frogs. But I'm not telling you which of you sounded like a frog."

  The boys in the back row lifted their hands and laughed loudly. I joined them, and soon the whole room was filled with the sound of delight.

  "It's time to go, Miss Sommers." Charlie, a brilliant boy in the saxophone section spoke up. There was a sadness around his eyes, and it made me want to hug him every time I saw him. Getting involved in the kids’ lives, especially in an afterschool program, wasn't really appropriate, but something about Charlie made me want to break the rules.

  Was he abused?

  Bullied?

  A foster kid, maybe?

  "And so it is." I offered him a warm smile before turning back to the rest of the class. "Alright! Pack up. See you guys next time, and do not forget to practice your scales. Especially you toads in the back."

  More laughter filled the room as I worked to put my music back together and get my things ready to vacate the premises. Several other instructors used the facilities I rented for my classes. Even though the building wasn't in the best part of town, it would do until I could afford something better.

  Sooner rather than lately, if I played my cards right.

  Anger swirled in my stomach at the thought of my father's response the last time I mentioned that I could use a seed investor in building a new arts center for the kids to come to, for the community to enjoy.

  "Layla! Don't be ignorant. Music doesn't make the world go ‘round. You're not a child anymore. Doctors, accountants, oil men, chefs, entrepreneurs, and lawyers make a real difference. And if you're not adding to the motion, you're detracting from it."

  I shook my head, pissed at myself for thinking my father might have been willing to have a conversation about my dreams without slaughtering them across the altar of his hopes for me.

  Asshole.

  I hated how he acted, but I could never hate him for being him. He was a product of his upbringing, his own father the most decorated district attorney in Chicago back in his day. It was a family legacy, and because I was an only child and my mother was gone, I was all he had.

  And his dream would die with me.

  His dream.

  Not mine.

  "People like us are here to bring progress into the world." He reached out and cupped my face, forcing me to look up at him. "Get that snarl off your beautiful face. You remind me too much of your mother when you do that."

  "Why can't you be okay with the fact that I have a passion that I get paid for? You love prosecuting criminals. I love seeing the light go on in a kid's face when they realize they've done something few people do."

  He laughed, the tone of it almost sardonic. "What, honey? They blew into the end of a piece of metal, and it made a noise?"

  “I love you, Dad, but I don't really like you much."

  "Miss Sommers? I, um, I didn't mean to call you out on the time. I'm sorry if—" Charlie stood before me, his skin placid as if he were going to be sick.

  I lifted my watch toward him, turning my wrist at an awkward angle. "See anything off here?"

  He glanced down at my watch and let out a soft breath. The vein in the side of his throat was ticking like he was in the middle of a marathon. "Um. It's not working. The little hand isn't moving."

  I pulled it back toward my face and glanced down before looking at up at him with a smile. "Exactly. It stopped last week. It was supposed to be waterproof, so being brave and all, I put it in a tub of dishwater, and guess what?"

  He relaxed, his shoulders rolling back and a smile appearing on his freckled face. "It wasn't waterproof." His smile grew wider. "My dad did that too, the other day. You should have heard him in the kitchen. You would have thought someone blew the garage off the house."

  I laughed loudly and pulled him into a side hug. "I like the sound of your dad already."

  He has a dad. Foster child officially marked off the list.

  "He's a great guy." He moved away from me and picked up his case. "I like the song today. It's my favorite so far."

  "Me too." I beamed. "It's actually my very favorite song of all time."

  "Really? I've never heard it before."

  "Well, after you're done practicing tonight, go look it up on YouTube. The Muppets played it in one of their movies. Tell me which one it was when I see you next time, and I'll give you the saxophone solo in the second section."

  His eyes widened. "What? Really?"

  "Oh yeah. You're brilliant with your instrument." I glanced up as someone at the door cleared their throat. "Okay. Let's get out of here. It looks like the next instructor is ready to take the room from us."

  "I'll practice nonstop. I'm not going to let you down, Miss Sommers. I promise." Charlie turned and walked out the door beside me.

  "Layla." The older woman that used the room for an adult concert band practice snarled at me.

  "Sounds good, Charlie. See you later." I patted his back and waited until he was gone to turn my attention on Della. "Hi Della. How are you?"

  "Skip the pleasantries. Make sure you turn the air down to sixty-four degrees before you leave here in the future. We were sweating our asses off last time we used this room. I know the pipes are all old and crusty, but do your part, young lady, or I'll call the owner again."

  "No problem. Enjoy your day, okay?" I gave her a go-fuck-yourself look and walked out of the building.

  Sometimes it was just better to kill them with kindness.

  The sun had just begun to set over the edge of the parking lot. The wind was blowing like crazy. Pausing, I glanced around to make sure everyone was gone. With my duties done for the day, I walked languidly to my car and let my mind wander to the possibility of Charlie growing up to be a professional musician. He was incredibly talented, and from what I understood, the little boy was two years ahead of his peers in school.

 

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