Brent shifted restlessly in bed. Lauren had been with the girls for over an hour now. While he knew how difficult it was to get Elise to settle, he had to admit he was getting more anxious by the moment. But they had agreed Lauren would do the nightly ritual this time since it might be a few days before she was back.
He inhaled deeply and ran his hands through his hair. Damn it; he wished there was some other way. He was not just uncomfortable with her going back east, being so far from them all right now, he was scared. Terrified. He was petrified actually.
While Lauren was only prepared to go so far with her predictions, one thing still weighed on his mind: Cumbre Vieja. It was the absolute worst-case scenario.
If the repercussions from Katla and Laki were bad enough, there was not much immediate threat to human lives. Iceland was not densely populated the way that Italy was. Etna and Vesuvius were both significant risks. Vesuvius' threat to Naples was mind-boggling, three million people endangered. Twenty-five percent of Sicily's population lived in the danger zone around Etna. Its history of frequent, sometimes continuous, relatively minor eruptions lulled most into a false sense of security.
But all of that paled to nothing in comparison to Cumbre Vieja's threat. While an eruption itself was seemingly minor in contrast to Etna and Vesuvius if the western flank was weakened enough to give way, he did not want to even think about it.
Even all these many years later, he still had nightmares about Sumatra. And that was nothing compared to the disaster that a mega-tsunami centered in the Atlantic Ocean could generate. The west coast of Africa would be hit before warnings could even be issued. Then much of southern Europe and northern too. Hours later that devastation would be visited upon the east coast of the Americas and the Caribbean Islands. The potential loss of life was numbing even to consider.
The idea that Lauren could be directly in that danger was more than he wanted to consider right now. As her husband and lover, he wanted to forbid it. Hell, tie her to the bed and keep her there. But she was right, the scientist, the humanitarian in him, knew there was no other way.
She was the only one that stood even the slimmest chance of convincing their colleagues to listen. And slim chance though it was, his moral code demanded that they take it, before raising the alarm themselves, perhaps inciting panic, chaos, and anarchy. And putting those here, those closest to him, at risk too.
As much as he trusted Daniel and Samuel, he felt torn: preserving this place and those relying upon him or her. Even knowing Daniel's assurances that this Commander Zane Rogers could be trusted to protect Lauren was scant solace. It was his responsibility to keep Lauren safe. But he would be more of a liability on this mission than an asset. Besides, he was needed here. With more people arriving daily, all of them were being pressed into service to organize and assimilate the refuges.
Still, he wished, hoped, and prayed for some alternative, some other option. Anything. The last couple of days, and especially nights, with her were more than he had ever dared hope. The way that she had come to him in the barn this afternoon, sought out his comfort, it had been years since they had been that close.
Honestly, he was not sure that they ever had been. There was something totally raw and so damned vulnerable about her then. It called to some deep and primal part of him. This was not his brilliant colleague, partner, and at times, nemesis. This was not his girly-girl turning to him to rid her world of spiders, snakes, and the sundry insects.
This was woman. Soft, needy, and reliant upon him. Damn, he hoped it was not just some passing apparition. He wanted more; he wanted it all with her. He always had.
"Penny for your thoughts, Dr. Jacobs," purred the sexy siren that stood in the doorway to his bedroom.
He recognized the cascades of fire that fell about her sweetly freckled face and down past her shoulders almost to that soft swell of her round bottom. He was vaguely familiar with the generous swell of bosom bursting from the top of the most scandalously sinful black corset he had ever seen. Though on second thought, he might need a bit more remedial work on them. And those long legs encased in sheer black stockings that came to mid-thigh and attached to garters on the corset, those, he most definitely needed to feel wrapped about his waist.
"Fuck me, babygirl," he moaned as the tent grew under the white cotton sheet.
His heart stopped at her throaty laugh as she drew her arm from behind her back. The handcuffs dangled from one finger, "That will depend on just how good a boy you are, Dr. Jacobs."
He inhaled deeply and steeled himself for whatever was to come this night as he held out his hands in front of him. "Do your worst, Mrs. Jacobs. I trust you. No limits. No rules. Just all yours."
And he meant it too. He would do whatever it took to win this woman back.
***
Lauren hesitated in the doorway. Even after her chat with Jill and Simone, even after spending hours coming up with this plan, thinking about nothing else as she put their daughters to bed and shoe-horned herself into this ridiculous get-up that she had borrowed from Jill, even then, she was not sure she could go through with it. It just did not feel right...natural.
But she did want Brent to understand how hard it was for her to put this kind of trust in him. She wanted him to feel that tiniest bit of doubt that always ran through all the excitement and lust. She needed him to understand what he was asking of her. The cost of this gift when she did give it to him. And maybe this was the only way?
She was not sure how she managed to cross the few feet to the bed without breaking her neck in the too-high heels that had been Simone's contribution to this circus show. But somehow she did, as she placed a knee on the mattress and began to crawl up the bed where Brent leaned back against the headboard.
Why did the man always have to look so fucking sexy? Whether it was bent over some computer screen with those brows knit together in thought. Or he was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt doing fieldwork. Hell, he had even managed to pull off stodgy khakis and button-down shirts as a guest lecturer. Of course, her favorite was probably naked, those early mornings when she woke first and just stared down at him while he snored.
Damn, girl, you got it bad, she admonished herself as she clicked one of the handcuffs into place around his wrist. She lifted his arm above his head and laced the cuff through the metal bar on his headboard. Then she lifted the other arm and tightened the metal bracelet about it too.
Fuck, this position did have to make his chest stick out even more. Make him even more irresistible. But then again, why did she need to resist? As the man said, he was all hers. She let her fingers play lightly across the mat of thick, springy chest hair that she had long since gotten used to tickling her nose as they slept.
She took her time. They had until dawn at least as she ran her fingers over and through it. The pattern was random and erratic. Brent had closed his eyes and was leaning his head back against the headboard even more. But she could tell his breathing was more shallow, she could feel his heartbeat pounding faster and stronger beneath her fingertips.
She leaned down and bit his left nipple as her nails pinched the other one. Those blue eyes flew open on a quick intake of breath, "Lauren?"
She giggled as her tongue traced the outline of the faint teeth marks, "I did not want you falling asleep on me, Dr. Jacobs," she teased as she turned her attention to the other nipple.
"Not much chance of that, I promise you, sweetheart," he purred as he lifted his hips. His hard cock beneath the sheet rubbed against the front of the corset, almost directly between the bulging mounds of tits that she feared would erupt from it at any moment.
She played a bit more, alternating between the hard brown nubs. She almost lost the plot a couple of times, barely restraining the outbursts of girlish giggles as she tried to figure a delicate and discrete way of getting chest hair from between your teeth. She was afraid she would spoil the whole thing with her wry sense of humor, but that was one thing she had most loved about this man: how easy it was to laugh with him.
He chuckled, and his chest moved beneath her face, those hairs gently abrading her cheek and causing the wetness that had been building between her legs to spread. "Yeah, I guess it is so much easier for me without a mouthful of hair every time I want to play with your tits. Next time we play this game, I'll shave it if you want?"
She frowned and shook her head, "Don't you dare."
Brent's deep laughter echoed off the walls, "Yes, Ma'am. Or is that Mistress?"
While Jill had been more than forthcoming about Mistress J, some part of Lauren rebelled at the thought. She was no Mistress. She probably never could be, even if Brent did enjoy these games; that was all it ever could be for her, role play. "No," she whispered, afraid she would disappoint him.
