Honor Bound by Joey Hill (speld decodable readers .txt) 📕

“My mother warned me about short, determined women,” he said at last, clearing his throat. “Said they’re meaner than any other kind.”

“Boy, you haven’t seen anything,” she whispered, catching the corner of his mouth with her own. When she tightened her arms around him, he did the same, nearly squeezing the breath out of her, his intense emotions washing through her, making her ache, happy, scared and anxious all at once. “You think I’m fragile, but I’m not.”

“Yeah. You are in some ways.” His hands gentled on her face. “I’m going to protect you, Dana. Love you. Always.”

“Same as I’m going to do for you, Master.”

Eventually, he lay next to her, making her smile anew since she knew he did it because he was worrying about his weight upon her, her considerate, loving Master. She was stronger than he believed. For the first time in a year, she believed it.

And instead of wishing this moment could stay the same, now she was thinking ahead, to other moments. Thinking of the next time he’d roll over and they’d do this all over again.

What she’d do tomorrow. Where she’d go shopping with Cassandra and Savannah. What she’d do with her life. Peter would have her six. She could do anything she wanted, including care for him as well.

Her fingers drifted down his biceps, over that tattoo, bringing another thought. She didn’t know how she felt about it, and she was afraid he would think she was asking because of her situation. No, she wouldn’t bring it up now.

However, he had overly fine-tuned senses himself. He turned on his side, gathering her in to him, putting a thigh over hers, her breasts against the coarse hair of his chest. “What is it, sweetheart?”

She bit her lip. “Will you go overseas again?”

His arms constricted around her, his strength such that he was able to roll her halfway onto his body with the embrace. She snuggled into him, waiting for his answer.

“No. I’m going to resign my commission.”

“What? Why?” She lifted her head. “Peter, I don’t want you to make that decision because of me. I’ll learn to take care of myself, and you shouldn’t change your life. . . .”

“You have changed my life, Dana.” He put his lips to her temple, held them there.

Tentatively she found his face, felt his closed eyes, the taut line of his jaw. “By taking care of you, I’m serving my country as well, in just as important a way.”

“I’m not helpless.”

“I know that. Tonight I took you into the most frightening thing a blind and deaf person can face. An entirely unfamiliar environment, lots of noise and challenges. You let it break you once, but then you put it together again. You did. In fact, you got pretty disobedient, playing with another slave for your own pleasure, taunting your Master and his friends. Rubbing yourself against Ben’s monster dick.”

He bent, nipped her throat, sharply enough she gasped, particularly when he slid his hand between her legs, reminding her of his right to touch her however, whenever he wished.

Propping himself on an elbow, he touched her nose with a broad finger.

“Growing up, I had an old hound dog that was blind, deaf, and couldn’t smell so well. He was fearless. Would run into things all the time, frustrating the hell out of him, but purely on an external level. He never let it get inside of him, make him stop being and doing what he wanted to be. He’d just get up and keep on going. You lost your confidence for a little bit, sweetheart, never your courage.”

“Are you calling me a bitch?” she demanded.

He brought her fingers to his mouth, let her feel his smile. “If the collar fits.”

After a long pause, she spoke, a near whisper. “It does.”

Looking down into her face, Peter saw her staring inward, as if she’d gone deep into herself, only this time maybe she’d found something worth seeing in the place where she still had her sight. Being here with her in this bed, making love to her, sharing his feelings with her, feeling her respond to him . . . There was nothing better. He didn’t want her to be blind, but life could be everything they wanted it to be. This bond between them would make up for the lack of anything else. He was surer of it than ever before.

He couldn’t wait for tomorrow, the next day. Hell, the next minute and hour, to watch their relationship grow, strengthen. Learn what irritated and pissed her off, get mad and make up, deal with the millions of big and little decisions that binding two lives together would bring. Hear her say “I love you” for the first time, without any worries. But for now, she gave him the next best thing.

She touched his face again, coming back to him, her smile soft, nervous. “I think . . . I think I love you, Peter Winston.”

His heart flat broke open. His throat thickened in a way he was glad the other guys weren’t around to see. Unable to speak, he found her other hand, guided it to her heart so she could feel what his fingers were doing beneath her own. He made that symbol, the one she’d pressed into his chest more than a year ago.

She’d given her heart to him then, and she’d surrendered it to him now. He was a soldier.

Honor bound to take care of it, now and forever, he planned to do just that, with every beat of his own.

Joey W. Hill is a bestselling Ellora’s Cave and Berkley Heat author. She lives in Southport, North Carolina, near Wilmington and Myrtle Beach. Visit her website at

[http://www.storywitch.com] www.storywitch.com. Don’t miss her exciting new novel,

Vampire Mistress, coming in May 2010 from Berkley Heat. Turn to the back of this book for a sneak preview.

Rhio’s Dancer

DENISE ROSSETTI

One

CARACOLE OF THE LEAVES, PALIMPSEST

When the hypnotic rhythm of a single drumbeat snaked out of the shadows, Rhio was thinking