I'm so sorry this chapter has taken forever! I really do have good reasons! Sacred Blood was released December 8th last year ( /1prjOI1 ), and the second book in the trilogy was released April 13th of this year ( /1prjWqZ )! I'm also holding a giveaway for BOTH books ( giveaway/show/89213-sacred-honor ), and on top of that, on my blog I am rewriting Fifty Shades from Ana's point of view in real time (as fast as the books happen, though am holding off for a couple days in light of the recent killings sparked by a deranged man's hatred of women), and on top of THAT, I've been working upwards of 80 hours a week. So, y'know, just a tad busy. :)

There is no way I can sleep. The boss is a few doors down with a drunk woman who can't consent to shit. He's got no respect for the law, or for women, and it takes all my willpower not to break the door down and pull that girl out of there. If I was her father, I'd want to kill anyone who didn't help her. But the face of my own precious daughter floats in front of me like a phantom, and I know I can't do it. I can't lose this job, and my daughter's lifeline.

I grab a pillow and start beating it against a chair, my teeth clenched right. Why the fuck do I keep having to reconcile my morals with that bastard's whims? Why can't he be a good man? I didn't expect things to be this hard, to want to protect someone else's daughter while having my own to protect. I can't do both, so I have to watch one who's probably going to end up hurt, to keep my own alive.

The last slam of the pillow contacts the table beside the chair, and the large modern black lamp falls off. Quick as a flash, I catch it and set it back upright just as my phone buzzes. I reach for it and dive onto the bed before glancing at the name.

"Liz, thank god it's you." My breathing shudders.

"Jason, what's wrong?" Wind causes static on her end. I think she's driving?

I drape my forearm over my eyes and kick a shoe off. "Ana's drunk, passed out. Grey brought her here and has her in his hotel room. If he forces-"

"No." Her tone is firmer than I'm used to. "No. Look, he's an ass, but the one thing he won't do is have sex with someone's who's passed out. More than once, I've had to help him move a girl who drank to that point. This is probably the safest state she could be in."

I don't know if I should be relieved or feel sicker, but at least a little tension lifts. "I hope you're right. God, I miss you and wish you were here. I'd feel a little better not worrying myself grey if I had company."

"Are you saying-"

"No," I interrupt. "Not like that. Just someone to hang out with. I couldn't get it up right now. Too stressed."

She sighs. "You'll be home tomorrow, right? Oh, damn." There are sirens on the other end.

I bolt up in bed, my heart racing. "Liz!"

"Just getting pulled over. Cell in my hand. Call me in the morning." The line goes dead.

I stare toward the door, queasiness still heavy in my stomach. I lift the receiver and listen to the ringing until room service picks up. It's going to be a long night, and I need a beer.

Sleep isn't going to come, and I'm tired. My phone rings at 8am with a text from Grey. I get dressed, head out on his errand. Dryness stings my eyes. I see myself in a mirror and I look like shit. Maybe the store clerks won't ask why I'm wearing dark glasses. Right at 9, I push open the door and stumble into Nordstrom on a mission. Jeans, shoes, and lingerie. I don't know what to get, and stand there staring like an idiot. Near the door is a display with some handbags. I pick one up. Balenciaga. I'm not sure what that is, but that's what the tag says. Interesting that there's a wire connecting this thing to that table. More interesting is that the price tag says $2,000. What makes this piece of leather worth so much? Was it made by orphans and polishes with unicorn tears? I drop it back in the table as a clerk races over and straightens it.

"Can I help you, Sir?" Her fresh, friendly face beams. The golden hair framing it reminds me of Elizabeth early in the morning.

I smile at her and nod. "My boss wants me to pick up a few things for his...girlfriend." I can't tell her the truth, that my boss wants me to pick up underwear for his intended sexual conquest.

"What do you need?" she prods.

"Jeans, size 4, sneakers, size 7, I guess a shirt, and underwear, small and 34C." I want to kick myself and sink into the floor. I settle on shoving my hands into the pockets of my black wool suit. "I don't know what kind, maybe something classic, no...no price cap."

The cheerful young lady smiles. "Right this way. I've got a few ideas for you."

In pretty quick time, I've got a new outfit for Miss Steele, and hightail it back up the street to the Heathman. Once in the elevator heading to the penthouse, I text the boss a message that I'm almost there. The doors slide open before I reach my floor, and in walks the devil, fresh from a workout.

"Taylor." He nods. "Get everything?"

I say nothing, just hand him the bag. I wait while he peeks inside to inspect everything.

"Good." He drops the bag to his side and scratches his head. "I know what you're thinking, and no, I didn't touch her."

One of my eyebrows raises. "Oh?"

He won't meet my eyes. "Not even I will sink to that." The doors open and he steps forward. "I don't need to." He doesn't look back.

I'm not sure if that's a jab at me, if he thinks that's impressive or what. I don't care. I walk behind him, stop at my own door, and let myself in. The whole day stretches before me, and I'm already bored. Everything on TV on Saturdays sucks. Got nothing to do online. Well, I decide to play Angry Birds. Again.

About halfway through my fiftieth or so level, Grey's name flashes, and I answer.

"Taylor, I'm going to need Charlie Tango," he orders before I say anything.

"Where?" I roll my eyes. I'm really not the person to call about this. It's not like I fly that damned helicopter unless I have no choice. "When?"

"From Portland at, say, twenty-thirty." Ah. He's trying to impress someone, and he knows I've got to answer, unlike the usual pilot.

"Any time you will be back at the airfield?"

"No, standby at Escala."

He seriously wants to use the landing pad on the building? For standby? "How long?"

"All night."

I lick my lips in disbelief. "All right. Keep the landing pad open all night."

"Yes. On call tomorrow morning. I'll pilot from Portland to Seattle."

I squeeze my temples. "Okay."

"Standby pilot from twenty-two-thirty."

Wait, what? I don't get a chance to answer. He hangs up. So he wants the chopper in Portland at 8:30, to have the pad at Escala on standby for him all night, and a pilot on standby at 10:30? I'm going to make this easy on myself. I dial the pilot.

"Lou speaking," his jovial, Boston-accented voice bellows over the line.

"Lou, it's Taylor. I need schedule the chopper for Grey."

He laughs. "I don't know if you're a bodyguard or a glorified personal assistant. He couldn't call me himself?"

I roll my eyes, but he's right. "Sometimes I'm surprised he can wipe his own ass."

The man laughs again. "You know, Jay, last week that baby whined that a spring in the seat his his balls too hard. I told him I'd remove it, did nothin', and later that afternoon he said it felt better."

"I'd like to hit 'em with a crowbar," I snarl.

"Wouldn't we all, after what he did to that poor girl, what's her name? Mighta been before you were around."

Yes. Wouldn't we all? "Yeah. Listen, Lou, he wants that chopped in Portland, twenty thirty. Landing pad at the Escala on standby through tomorrow, noon. Pilot waiting at the Escala from twenty-two thirty until noon tomorrow. Can you do that?"

"Bess'll be pissed if I miss bridge tonight, but what the hell. I'll wait up here and have one of the greens take it down, and I'll wait on call tonight."

"Thanks. I owe you a solid."

"No prob. Got an incoming. Later."

"Later." I toss the phone onto my bed and pace between the window and door. The overcast clouds are breaking up. Without thinking much, I lay down next to the phone, blink...

I open my eyes and sigh. Shit, did I fall asleep? I turn my head toward the clock. It's 8. Shit! I jump out of bed, toss my stuff into my suitcase, race down the hall, suitcase handle in hand, and into the boss's room, yank up his already-packed bag, and rush downstairs to the curb. I nod at one of the poor saps dressed like renaissance faire jesters, and he steps toward the curb to hail a cab about to pass. I slip him a ten-spot,toss the luggage in the backseat beside me, and bark the address to the airfield. The sooner I can pick up the car and head north, the sooner I'll get home.

Just as the can pulls up, I see the chopper lift off. Well, perfect timing. Crash, you old buzzard. Just let the girl be okay. I pay the driver and haul the bags to the black Audi. I dig my key out and contemplate leaving the boss's bag, claiming it was stolen. But no, he'd blame the hotel staff. So into the car it goes. I jam the key into the ignition, and cringe as classical blares out of the speakers. It's okay, but I know that dumbass only claims to like it because he thinks it makes him refined. Yeah, refinement would take a miracle. I switch the station to classic rock just in time to hear Steven Tyler screech. Back in the saddle again. Yes, baby, I am.

My foot is like lead on the freeway. Up 5 all the way. The exit nears, and I almost pass it, but swerve just in time, thankful for the unusually clear freeway. Figures I'd hit every damned red light. The opening bars of Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Free Bird" starts, and I flip the volume down. After what feels like forever, I pull into the parking spot and get out of the car. I grab the bags and head upstairs. I know the boss will be there with Miss Steele, and I hope she's okay.

Quietly, I unlock the door and push it open. Aside from the tick-tock of a wall clock, I hear nothing at all. Maybe they aren't here. No matter. I leave the boss's bag int he kitchen and take my own to my and Elizbeth's wing. I'm a bit disappointed. Her door's closed, and there isn't any light. Well, I'll see her tomorrow. I push my own door open, and just enough light streams in from the open window to highlight her form on my bed. I drop the handle to my suitcase and think I fly across the space to her, pleasantly surprised.

God, she's like an angel laying there, her golden hair splashed over my pillow. Her soft hand is curled next to her face. My eyes glance down toward the rest of her body, clad only in a short, white silk robe, as if our separation hadn't happened.

Leaving the light off, I head into the bathroom for a quick shower and a shave. I wrap a towel around my waist, curse myself for forgetting to grab clean underwear before heading in here, and turn the light off before heading out of the bathroom. But she's not there. I furrow my brow and raise my eyes toward the living room just in time for her to walk back in with a couple glasses of wine. I watch her silently set them down and tighten her robe's belt.

Elizabeth draws in a deep breath. "I hoped you wouldn't mind if I waited for you in here."

My mouth dries, and I shake my head. Oh my god, I'm like a nervous teen boy. Is it okay to go kiss her. After all, we only made moves to date again a few days ago. On the other hand, we did make those moves.

Confident, she walks toward me and grabs my hands to drag me to the bed. She sits, and pulls me to sit beside her. I press my palm to her cheek. For a brief moment, she lays her hand into my palm, but then reaches for my and pulls me toward her. Without hesitation, my mouth finds her and I continue forward. The towel falls away, and one of her feet kicks it away. I'm not sure how it happened, I don't care how it happened, but I'm on top of her, tasting her mouth, savoring her sweetness, aware of how easy it would be to let more happen. I don't know how much she wants, what she is willing to give, so take my fill of her kiss. My lower body tenses as I fight off an instinctive desire to take her.

She breaks the kiss and stares into my eyes, her gaze soft, yet focused. "Jason, I want you. I need you."

I don't need to think twice. I nod and drop my lips to hers again as she bucks her hips upward. I sink deep into her warmth, and relish the feeling of her legs wrapping around mine. For the first time in months, all my worried disappear, and for once, I can enjoy the moment, secure with the woman I love.