Precious seconds ticked and the world began to fuzz at the edges. He was in complete disbelief that he was going to die this way, the life choked from him by the man he hated.
Sounds faded. Sparks burst in front of his eyes, and then he saw nothing.
The ground disappeared and he fell into a black void. Wind rushed past him, and he ceased to be. All that he was, forgotten.
And then he simply vanished into mist.
They were too far away, near the tree line.
Bastian saw her go down, and fear pushed him faster. Michael and Dietz were fighting, out for blood. His lover seemed to have things under control.
But that’s the nature of a disaster: it happens so quickly. Before a man can blink, the fickle bitch called fate steps in and turns the tables.
Destroys lives.
In a blink, Dietz had Michael pinned, hands around his throat. Strangling him. Bastian closed the distance, half limping now, and the scene took on a horrible clarity. Suffocating, just like in his nightmare. Only it was Michael, not him, who couldn’t draw a breath.
Screaming. Someone was screaming as Michael went limp, head falling back. Dangling from a monster’s hands. “Noooo!”
Dietz jerked upright, releasing Michael. He bolted to his feet, eyes wide, and scrambled backward as Bastian’s arm went up. The man was fucking dead, and the knowledge was etched on his face as Bastian pulled the trigger. Over and over.
As the bullets plucked his clothing, Dietz’s body jerked, doing a macabre sort of marionette dance before finally crumpling to the ground. He didn’t move again.
Bastian was hardly aware that the other gunfire had stopped, or that his agents were jogging toward them. Part of him registered profound relief to see Katrina sitting up, rubbing her head. But Michael wasn’t moving.
Dropping to his knees, he shook his friend. “Michael?”
Too still. He placed his hand under the man’s nose. No warm puff of breath. No life.
“Oh… Oh, God, no.” Gathering his lover in his arms, he worked to position him, used a finger to part his lips. Then he placed his mouth over Michael’s and gave him air. “Come on, breathe. Don’t do this to me.”
“Bastian?” Katrina whispered.
“Help me,” he begged her. Or was he begging Michael? She scooted up to sit to one side and pushed on Michael’s diaphragm.
“Give him another one.”
Another breath. And she pushed again. In and out, breathing for him. His face was so pale, his lashes dark against waxen cheeks.
Clutching him tightly, Bastian began to sob. “I killed him for you, just like I promised I would. Remember? I got him for you. For all of us. Please come back. Michael,
He looked at Katrina. Tears streamed down her face and she held one of Michael’s hands between hers, rubbing as though she could warm life into him. How could this happen? How? His body was numb, but his mind all too aware of the horror.
Bending, he gave another breath. Another.
A hand on his shoulder. “Bastian, you have to let him go,” Blaze said hoarsely.
“No.”
“This isn’t—”
“Wait!”
Under his hand, Michael’s chest heaved. And his lover sucked in a huge breath and began to cough. All around them, the men exclaimed in excitement and relief. But he and Katrina didn’t pay attention to anyone but Michael, who at that moment opened his big brown eyes. It was the most beautiful sight Bastian had ever seen.
“Welcome back,” Katrina said through her tears.
Michael stared up at them and blinked slowly. “Dietz…”
Bastian stroked his hair. “Dead. I got him for you.”
“Like you promised,” he rasped through his injured throat. “I heard you.”
“Good. Now I want you to rest. McKay is coming and you’re going to get checked out, okay? So is our girl.”
Michael’s gaze found hers. “Baby?”
“I’m fine,” she assured him. “Just a bump on the head when he tackled me. Nothing to be concerned about.”
“But she’s still getting a scan. I’m not leaving a damned thing to chance with either of the people I love. Never again.”
That was his word, and if he was a little overprotective from now on, they’d have to live with it.
Somehow, he didn’t think they’d mind.
Katrina basked in the sun with her two handsome men, Emma, and Blaze. If there was anything that topped a beautiful day, margaritas, and her friends’ company, she had yet to be introduced to it.
“More refreshments? I’d be happy to refill the pitcher.”
Cracking open an eye, she smiled at Simon. “I think we’re good, thanks. Guys?”
“There’s still plenty, but if we run out we can get it ourselves,” Michael said. “Why don’t you take the afternoon off?”
“And remain far from this area, lest my virgin eyes burn from their sockets?”
Michael grinned. “You’re a smart guy. Which is why I keep you around.”
“Indeed. Enjoy the rest of your day. I know I will.” Nose in the air, the old man glided away.
“I’m so glad he recovered without any complications,” Emma said fondly. “I really like the stuffy old fart.”
“Me, too.” Katrina glanced at Michael, heart swelling with love. They’d come so close to losing him, but the bruises on his neck had faded almost completely.
“How’s your security guy? John?”
“He’s still healing, but he should be back on the job in a few weeks. He got really lucky.”
“We all did,” Emma said.
Katrina knew Emma felt bad about not doing more when Dietz broke into the house, but there wasn’t anything she could have done other than phone Blaze. The events had unfolded so fast that by the time she joined them outside, Michael was breathing again and everything was over.
“Yes. That’s why we’re celebrating,” Katrina said happily. “Dietz is gone, his dirty money has been seized, most of the Liberation soldiers have been rounded up, and Mr. President is ecstatic. I, for one, am feeling like doing something a little wild and crazy.”
Three pairs of male ears perked up at that statement.
“Oh?” Bastian’s brows rose over his sunglasses as he sipped his drink. “Do tell.”
“Well, for example, I’m feeling way too clothed.” She looked at Emma. “You?”
“Me, too! Isn’t that amazing how we were thinking the same thing?”
“What should we do about it?”
“Strip, of course! How else will we get comfortable?”
“Now we’re talking!” Michael said, laughing. The other two joined in, egging them on.
Performing for their rapt audience, they set their margaritas aside and stood, facing the guys. They peeled off their swimsuit tops, doing a little shimmy, letting their breasts dangle enticingly. Next they hooked their thumbs in their bottoms, slowly drawing them down and stepping out of them. Bastian’s straw fell from his mouth, and all three adjusted themselves in their swim trunks to accommodate their growing discomfort.
“Okay, your turn,” Katrina called to the guys.
Immediately, they scrambled to get naked and recline on their loungers, waiting excitedly to see what would happen next. Katrina studied all three of their cocks pointing at the sky, like exclamation points in a sentence, and
