“Put me down.”

The longer Dylan ignored Mary, the more focused she became on the anger seeping into her grief, guilt. He’d taken an exit from the building she hadn’t noticed earlier and hoofed it across the grass and straight toward what she thought of as the barracks building.

“Everyone will be waking soon. We have things to review, discuss. I’ll need you and your brothers there so we can figure out the rest. You’re involved somehow.” But she’d started it all.

“You’re going to get a few hours of sleep. Everything will wait until you’re better rested,” he replied, voice husky in her ear. “We both need a few hours.”

Both. Mary curled her toes and let the word do its magic. In a pretend world, they’d catch the sleep together. He entered a room she didn’t recognize. Surprise kept her silent a moment as they entered. Clean, somewhat barren, but it smelled like Dylan.

“Where are we?”

“My room. Like I said, we need a few hours rest, and I’m not letting you out of my sight. The moment I do, you’ll be back in that room and on the computer.” He set her on the bed and touched her cast. “Did you have clearance to type? You’re hurting, aren’t you? I’ll call Logan, see if there’s painkillers you can take.”

“How did you know it was bothering me?”

His finger ran across her forehead, so soft she thought she’d imagined it at first. “You get lines here and here.”

Wrinkles. Great. All she needed now was a dozen cats and a big shoe to live in, and she was set for spinsterdom. “Oh.”

“It’s cute.” He cupped her face, leaned down and kissed her forehead. “This is the calm I need, Mary. It’s time we both step back, rest.”

Sensation fanned through her, warmth and comfort. Desire and hunger. She reached for him, deepened the contact, daring a sweep of her tongue across his lips. Dylan growled and held her head more firmly.

The kiss turned carnal, a clash of tongues, a battle for control. He plundered. Mary clung to him as he guided her backward on the bed. His weight settled against her, pinning her to the mattress. A moan escaped her as the kiss continued, softening as he teased her into taking the lead a moment.

Her pulse moved in a hastened tempo. Breathing labored, she broke contact and inhaled. What was she doing? She was literally out of breath from a kiss. With Dylan Mason. Jesus. She’d stooped to a new low. He’d carried her to a bed, intent to make her rest, and she’d damn near molested him.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry.” The apologies rolled through her as the arousal drowned in the toxic pool of guilt from earlier, now fueled by the embarrassment of her jumping Dylan.

Sure, he’d technically started the kiss, but it’d been one of those people give to relatives in some families. Right?

She dared a peek up at him and noted the fiery heat in his green gaze. He stroked her face just beneath her right eye.

Okay, no. It wasn’t a family sort of kiss. At least she hadn’t read the intent wrong, she’d just latched on and attacked like a starved vampire at a blood bank. All his other kisses had been cautious, slow. Gentle.

Did guys kiss women they wanted like that? God, this wasn’t one of those mercy fucks she’d heard about, was it? Mercy kissing. Yep, she could almost imagine it. Keep the ugly mousy one controlled with a few chaste pecks here and there. If she face molests you, then well, take one for the team, man.

Ugh.

She was losing her damn mind. Ha. The shrink she was supposed to see in a few hours would probably lock her away in a padded room complete with one of the white jackets with the shiny buckles in the back.

“You’re exhausted, sweetheart. Whatever’s going through your head has no place there.” He stooped down and ran his mouth across hers. Tension coiled in her muscles as she fisted her hands in her lap and willed herself not to overreact.

He was being nice. This wasn’t what she thought it was. He’d never be interested in someone like her.

“Talk to me, Mary. What happened just now?” He kissed her throat. “You don’t want to kiss me?”

“I’m not your type,” she argued. “I shouldn’t have done that. I practically molested you.”

“You can molest me whenever you want.” His gaze settled on her, his face so close she felt his breath against her cheek. “We’ve kissed before. I want more than kisses when you’re ready. This isn’t about what you heard me tells Riles, is it?”

She latched onto him, running her hand along his stubbly jaw. “You’re so handsome, so out of my league.”

“Someone did a number on you, angel. You’re the one out of my league, and when this mess is over and we don’t have people coming at us, trying to hurt you, I’m going to lock you up in here and make it my personal mission to make you see how beautiful you are. Treasured.” He feathered a kiss across her mouth. “Kiss me, Mary. Relax, and trust me.”

The contact ceased, but he remained close. Right there. In her face. Waiting patiently.

This is nuts.

“Kiss me, Mary. I’ll take control back after you do. Is that what you want?”

“I’m not very good at this sort of thing, Dylan. Why are you making me take the lead? Can’t you just...”

“I could, but I don’t like how you apologized for taking what you wanted from me earlier. You wanted the kiss deeper, more intense, and you let me know. Then you backed off and started apologizing.” His thumb ran across her lips. “I’m not okay with you regretting anything we do. I figure if you initiate the kissing a few times, you’ll start to see you’re not out of my league. Whatever happens between you and me? You’re safe. Always.”

Mary closed her eyes and gave the arousal flaring through her free reign. She clutched his face with her good hand and kissed him softly. A rumble rose from him. The vibrations quickened her pulse as she nibbled on his plump lower lip, then licked.

Dylan repeated the action on her, a playful gleam in his gaze as it settled on her. “Come here, sweetheart. Straddle me.”

“No. I can’t.” She shook her head. Arousal pooled between her legs. “I’m too heavy.”

“I carried you all the way here and didn’t even break a sweat. You really think you’re too heavy to straddle me?” His gaze narrowed. “We’ll be chatting about that real soon. Right now, though, I want you resting so we can’t play long. Come here, sweetheart.”

Mary chewed her lower lip as he guided her into a tense straddle across his lap. He drew her closer; her mound rubbed the prominent bulge in his jeans deliciously. The position left her looking down at him, just enough for the arousal from before to deepen.

Sex hadn’t ever been a playful, adventurous event for her. It’d been boring at best. A chore, something she did to appease whoever she dated. Not that there had been many. Dean had been the longest. What a joke that turned out to be. He hadn’t hung around because she’d been a good lover, a good girlfriend.

No, he’d been working her.

So stupid.

“Where did you go?” he asked.

“Nowhere important,” she responded.

His jaw twitched beneath her hand. He didn’t believe her but didn’t comment. Warmth spread through her as she leaned in and swept her mouth along his again. Kissing Dylan Mason deserved to be an Olympic event. The man was sex in jeans and knew how to draw out her desire, the carnal need she’d kept buried too long.

His hands wandered down her arms, up her back as he deepened the kiss. She kept expecting him to take full command, but he left her in charge, with a firm nudge every now and then. Soft, languid kisses became Viking-worthy plunges, duels that left her breathless and trembling.

She rubbed herself against him and urged him to touch, grab. Do something more than kiss. She reached for his shirt. He captured her hand easily. Regret and raw need reflected in his gaze.

“You get those sweet lips on me anywhere else, and we’re not coming out of here for a couple days, sweetheart. Come on, let’s get settled before I forget about being a gentleman.”

Mary was okay with him not being a gentleman. Really, really okay. She licked her lips, which earned her a long, low rumble from him as his gaze tracked her movement.

Wow.

Dylan rose from the bed and rifled through a dresser across the room a moment. “Bathroom’s right there. Take your time. Change into this. We buy toothbrushes in bulk, so there should be packaged ones under the sink. I know you like those gorgeous teeth brushed.”

He smirked at her. Fiery heat coursed up her cheeks. She wasn’t ever going to live the toothbrush comment down, but she didn’t mind the teasing, not from Dylan.

Mary took the shirt he held out. He wanted her to wear it to sleep in? Her pulse quickened, her belly started an awkward lambada of some sort.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“Nothing,” she whispered. No way was she admitting she’d never worn a man’s shirt before. Ever. Dean hadn’t ever stayed the night. If she’d had a normal sex life before she met him, she probably would’ve figured out that was a huge warning bell. If a man can’t stay the night, he shouldn’t be in your bed.

She should write a manual for awkward, ugly, mousy women like her, give them a leg up the next time they took on trying to secure a man. Mary looked down at the shirt she clenched in her hand.

What if it didn’t fit?

Mary wasn’t a tiny girl like Rhea. She was lumpy with big boobs. God, what if it’s like a favorite shirt, and you stretch it?

He closed the distance, pressing against her until every breath she dragged in smelled like him. “You’re tense again.”

“I’m okay to go back to my quarters, you know.”

“I know, but I want you here where I can see you, make sure you rest.”

“You’re crazy. I’m not letting you sleep on the floor like my guard dog.”

“Good, because I had no intention of sleeping on the floor.” His gaze turned molten.

Her gaze flew to the bed. She gulped. “I’ve never slept with a man before. Slept, slept I mean.”

God, you’re pathetic. Why the hell did you admit that? 

His lips upturned into a panty-melting grin.

He’s laughing at you.

“Gotta admit, sweetheart, I’m gonna like being the first to hold you in my arms all night.”

God, he’s a snuggler. Mary had always wondered what a snuggler would be like.

“Go change.”

“Fine.” Mary huffed and headed to the bathroom before she erred on the side of smart and bolted from the room. The man was certifiable. Hauling her fat ass around, kissing on her. Making her wear his shirt.

Butterflies morphed into buzzards in her belly as she went about her business in the bathroom, which ended with her in his shirt. Tears burned her gaze. She’d always wanted to be one of those girls, the ones whose men didn’t mind if a couple shirts went missing here and there. It wasn’t overly loose and pooled around her knees like in those ridiculous movies where the women were toothpick-sized.

The material hugged her large breasts then hung somewhat loosely around the rest of her, just long enough to hide most of her panties. A soft knock on the door startled her.

“Sorry, I’m almost out.”

“Forgot shorts, sweetheart. Open up a bit, and I’ll slip them in.”

“Shorts?” Her voice cracked.

“Not going to make you sleep in your underwear, sweetheart. Open up so I can get you to sleep.”

The door squeaked open. Dylan’s gaze swept across her, molten and intense enough to make her insides burn with a new rush of arousal. He held out a pair of gray shorts. “Here you go, Mary.”

While she loved her name on his lips, she adored the random sweethearts she’d somehow started earning. She forced a smile and took the shorts with a soft thanks. The door shut, and the riotous emotions in her escaped in a scream-worthy, holy shit moment. Fortunately, she didn’t yell.

She removed her panties and slid the shorts on.

Please don’t let them be too small.

The material was soft, smelled like freshly laundered woods. She slipped the shorts on after removing her panties and tried to ignore the way they hugged her hips. She had big hips. Always had. Men liked curves, right?

Ugh, it didn't matter. Dylan wanted rest. She needed sleep. Maybe the nightmares would stay away if she wasn't alone with her thoughts. She hadn’t slept well in a while, not since...

Mary cut the thought off and wandered into the other room. His gaze roamed her appreciatively. Tingles settled beneath her skin, traveling from her hardening nipples to pool between her legs.

Dylan was the sort of man who made a woman feel appreciated, and she couldn’t help but feel that way beneath the intense heat in his gaze.

“Come on, you’re exhausted. Let’s get to bed.”

He’d stripped off his shirt and was walking around in a pair of loose-fitting gray shorts. Her mouth dried as he yanked back the covers of the full-sized bed and motioned for her to climb in on the side farthest from the door.

“You’re nervous.” He froze and looked at her. “Damn, I’m an idiot, Mary. I never thought about...”

Thought about what? The thought ping ponged in her brain a while before she realized where he’d gone. “No. It’s not that. I haven’t ever slept in a bed with a guy before. What if I snore or drool? I’m not scared to be here with you, honestly.”

“Don’t lie to me, Mary. I can handle hearing the truth. What you went through...No woman should ever be subjected to that, ever.” He settled a hand on her shoulder. “I don’t ever want to make you feel uneasy or push. I can’t deny the attraction, but I’m not pushing. I swear.”

“I...” She gulped down the nervousness crawling up her throat. “I haven’t slept good since I went to the new room. I like you being near when I’m asleep. I feel safe. Protected. I slept better in the hospital room with you in the chair than I have since I’ve been here.”

His gaze warmed. He rubbed her arm. “Then let’s get to bed, sweetheart.” 

DYLAN SLID FROM BENEATH the gorgeous woman hugging him close and hoped she’d keep sleeping. He’d roused her from a nightmare a couple times the past several hours. Each time, she woke with a teary gasp but relaxed and went right back to sleep.

He should’ve known she wasn’t sleeping well. Had Logan checked on her? Where the fuck was the counselor or head shrink they’d hired? He had more questions than answers and a gut full of anger. Someone would pay for making her go through this.

She was shy, downright skittish, like a newborn kitten in a kennel of barking dogs. And the kisses. At first he’d blamed her kidnapping for the hesitancy, the unease laced with a hint of fear in her slight touches. Someone messed with her head before the kidnapping. He needed to corral his natural dominance and let her steer the direction their relationship headed.

Fuck if he’d thought he’d be thinking along those lines. Not after what Hailey did. The knock on the door returned, harder than the first time. Whoever it was wasn’t going away.

Dylan snagged his gun, just in case, and cracked the door. Marshall glared at him from the other side. He maneuvered into the hall, keeping the door slightly ajar so he could hear Mary if she awoke or had another nightmare. 

“If you’re done playing house, I’ve got a room full of pissed off women wanting more than one of your heads on a platter,” Marshall commented.

“Mary’s sleeping. They can wait.”

“That’s all you’ve gotta say? She’s sleeping. In your bed.”

“Yeah, she is. Hasn’t had a decent night’s sleep since we moved her in with her friends. The place is an unknown, and I’ve had my head up my ass so far I didn’t see it. She’s resting. I decide when she’s ready to keep going.”

“You know better than go down this road.” Marshall crossed his arms. “It’s a slippery slope, especially with what she went through.”

“How about you stay out of my business and tell me what you got from the walls.”

“Vi’s still making sense of what Mary did, but the girls are pretty sure she suspects someone put a plant in Warrior’s Path, then herded Mary and them here, where they could cherry pick whoever it is they’re after. Basically what we’d figured out, but they’ve got evidence supporting the theories now, except for who the plant is.”

“I’m not good with them using our program, our compound to corner women.”

“None of us are. Nolan’s pulled all the records on everyone at the compound. Vi’s feeding them into the computer. Guys are gathered in the room, containing the women. Though Addy’s making quick work of kicking their ass.” Marshall chuckled. “On second thought, take your time.”

“We should have Cord vet her record, recruit her. Good female operatives are rare.”

“Yeah. Until we do, I’ve assigned Jesse and Nolan to work with her. Dallas is with you on Mary. The rest of us will keep Vi and the other two secure.”

“I’m good with Mary. Put Dallas on babysitting duty with the others.”

“You can’t keep her secure twenty-four seven.”

“Fine, then give me Gage or Nolan,” Dylan ordered. “We’ve got enough shit simmering without Dallas and I circling one another.”

“You’re the only one circling. He tapped out on this back when it went down. You two work it out, or I will.” Marshall turned and charged down the hall.

Son of a bitch. Dylan shut the door and slid in behind Mary. She grabbed his arm when he looped it around her and squeezed his hand.

“You’re awake,” he whispered. “Sorry we were loud.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You were angry. Why don’t you want Dallas helping?”

“He’s better off helping the others. I can keep you safe,” he replied.

“I know. It’s just, you mentioned bringing in the others, sounded like you were okay with everyone but him. He’s your brother.” Her voice softened. “I’m sorry, forget I asked. It’s none of my business.”

“Something went down a while back. Not his fault, not mine. We were both played against one another. Things got ugly before we realized what was happening.”

“A woman,” she guessed. “Hailey.”

“Yeah, Hailey. Riley’s been talking.” Damn small towns and their idle gossip. Meddling sisters were even worse. “It doesn’t matter, we’ll work it out.”

“It wasn’t Riley, but I heard things, noticed the tension between you two. And I’ve met Hailey, of course.” She touched the hand at her waist. “I’m sorry she got between you two. It shouldn’t ever be like that.” 

“Leave it alone, sweetheart. We’ll work it out, okay?”

“Okay. I just can’t help but think the thing with Dean is similar. I didn’t want him meeting Vi and the other girls. I’m the mousy, average one, and the guys were always drawn to one of them. When he showed interest in me, I safeguarded him, tucked him close, and didn’t let them know. The thing with you and Dallas isn’t the same, but it kind of is. I mean, it’s all about not trusting each other and not communicating, right?”

Mary wasn’t mousy or average, not to him. The damn word came from what the bastard who’d taken Riley said. It was stuck in her brain, burned there by whatever crap someone fed her before all this mess started. Probably a parent. She’d had a shaky upbringing from what little was in her file.

“Sleep, sweetheart.”

Dylan listened to her quiet breaths slip into the steady rhythm of before. Maybe what went down between him and Dallas was closer to her handling of Dean with the girls than he first realized. Neither had trusted the other. He hadn’t explained anything. Dallas hadn’t either.

Dylan fed off the insecurity Hailey’s actions created in him. No, they’d simmered there all along. Small town life. Five brothers. Competition had been tough for love interests. He’d always taken the wingman position. That’s what the middle brother did.

Then he’d hooked up with Hailey. Things moved in the right direction. He’d always been shy with women, more circumspect than his brothers.

Lighten up, Dyl. You can’t blame me for having a little fun. It’s not a big deal. It’s not like I’m marrying him. See? Your ring’s still here, right where you put it, baby.

He’d been too shell-shocked to see anything beyond her thousand-watt smile burning a hole in his heart, his soul. Thinking back to the night he’d come home from the service and found them together, in his bed...

His gut burned. He choked back the anger roiling through him in a deep rumble. Dallas. His face. Confused. Shocked. Hurt.

Jesus.

Big brother Marshall was right, as always. Enough time had passed. They needed to sort their house before someone showed up and knocked it down. Whether they liked it or not, The Arsenal was balls-deep in Mary’s mess.

No, this wasn’t her crap. It had the stench of Hive all over it.