Dillon didn't mistake his posture for anything except what it was. Alert readiness, silently conveying he'd be at her side in a heartbeat if she needed him, and Dillon felt a peculiar melting sensation in her belly.
It was easy to give a genuine smile, which Nasa took as reassurance to say she was fine. With a short nod to her, he got back to work, sweating alongside his brothers, wearing nothing but his workout shorts, socks, and trainers.
His body was a thing of beauty. His wide shoulders and muscular arms wrapped in delicate, precise lines of blue, black, and gray. Computer circuitry etched into tanned flesh to resemble armor, making him look a little bit like a cyborg.
Dillon felt prepared to lay down a hefty wager to say Nasa had designed the layout of the tattoos himself.
She hadn't really noticed or been attracted to a man's body in nearly a decade, but physically, everything about Nasa flat out did it for her.
Obviously, he was the tallest guy on the field, his musculature proportionate to his body. He looked positively lean beside Roar and Damon, the two of them so stacked it was a wonder they could wear clothes and not split them open.
There wasn't a beer belly to be seen on the field, and listening to Damon shout orders to switch from this exercise to that, trash talking to motivate his guys in a way that made them groan and laugh, was an interesting way to spend her morning.
Initially, Dillon objected when Nasa scooped her up and started to carry her up out of the basement. She had her own workout and run to get to before the sun could come up and broil the meat off her bones.
Undeterred by her protest, Nasa bent close and licked at her bottom lip before giving her the sweetest kiss ever.
“I need you where I can see you.”
At the time, Dillon rationalized it. She had other stuff to do, but he'd expressed his need after fulfilling hers. Sitting outside watching him work out felt like an easy thing to give.
It wasn't until he'd opened up the umbrella for her and brushed his fingertip down the slope of her cheek with a cocky grin on his face that Dillon felt the impact of what else he'd said to her in the basement.
“It's not a favor. It's a claiming. You’re mine now, Tiger Lily.”
Dillon still wasn't entirely sure why it made her melt a little every time he called her Tiger Lily, but in the haze of the most epic orgasm she could ever recall having, Dillon hadn't yet delved too deeply into dissecting it.
“I only ever saw Tobias when I was being moved from room to room during my interrogation, and even then, it was a brief glance,” she finally told Top. “Enough to remember his face. Enough to look back on and say he never participated.
“I believe he had a hand in protecting me, and I believe he put an end to the torture. If he hadn't helped me, I'd be dead.
"Those scars on his back are all I need to convince me he did what he said. So, yeah, I can forgive him. It's just going to take some time before I stop fighting the urge to kick him in the balls and run screaming in the other direction.”
Instead of offering her platitudes or assurances, Top threw his head back and roared with laughter. It was a good laugh, loud and authentic.
“I'd pay good money to see that,” he chortled wickedly, but before long, he got back to being serious. “So, this is the part where I stick my nose in your business and ask you if you're enjoying spending time with Nasa on a temporary basis or if you've looked far enough ahead to see yourself taking the long windy walks with him.”
Dillon regretted having taken a sip of her smoothie because Top's casual delivery of a very serious question made her choke on it.
“Wh-what?”
Top waved his hand at where Nasa was swinging a sledgehammer over his head, doing his best to kill the tractor tire.
“He's gone from suspecting you're a plant to absolute certainty you're as much a victim as Saint and Damon were when Ghost got hold of them, to lookin’ at you with stars in his eyes. He's invested now, and in his fucked up way, he feels responsible for bringing Ghost into your life.
“I see that heart of gold and the soft spot you've got, so does Nasa. Considering you're one bad bitch with the same tendencies and interests as him, it ain't much of a stretch to guess Nasa's endgame.
“I can picture y'all going the distance without much effort, and I like the way that looks in my head. No doubt in my mind, he'll treat you like a queen and help you make all your dreams come true.
"But if you're not going in the same direction he is, if you're planning to take off after your problems are over and break his heart, he'll never be the same again.”
“Are you... are you asking me what my intentions are?” Dillon clarified with mild incredulity.
“Somethin' like that,” Top confirmed. “For the first time I can ever recall, Nasa left this compound without giving two shits about his constant fear of being tracked by satellites, he hauled ass to Dallas once he heard you were in trouble.
“He painted and redecorated the basement after insisting he liked everything exactly the way it was since he moved in.
"He didn't pitch a fit when you disrupted his filing system, and you've got real estate in his private domain. I'll wager a fair amount of cold hard cash, he'll stick his brand on you in two months or less, because
