The characters below are not mine. JE deserves all the credit.

Jenny (JenRar) you deserve the credit for any clarity of thought or well captured sections as the beta on this story. Thank you for all your hard work.

Chapter 16 – Bring it On

Stephanie was completely still, unnervingly so, as we drove to Intensity. I'd never seen her like this and wondered if I should be worried about her being so nervous, she was at the point of it shutting down the fidgeting that was her usual tell for nerves.

I parked the Turbo at the back of the lot, near the fleet of black vehicles that I knew were mine, refusing to allow the valet a chance to hold the keys for a car that held enough weapons to arm a small militia.

I got out, amazed that Stephanie was still sitting there, blankly staring out the window, and jogged to her side to open the door slowly, in case she was leaning against it. Her head jerked up when the outside air blew in, and she looked up at me, her face registering shock that it was time to go in.

I held out my hand, not bothering to talk, knowing that more assurances that everything would be okay were useless right now. She would either be able to do this, or she wouldn't, and until we knew one way or the other, there was no point in discussing it.

We moved quickly from the parking lot to the entrance. I looked around, cataloging any potential areas for threats, and made a few mental notes about the lighting of the parking lot and few areas of landscaping that were creating areas for possible trouble more so than adding to the beauty of the club. If this night went well, I might consider calling the owner to talk about their security. The bouncer was more of a doorman than anything else, as he stood aside and opened the entrance to us upon our arrival, never bothering to question the obvious bulge at my hip.

I hadn't been in Intensity before, but I'd heard that it was a hot spot and could easily see why. It was what I thought of as an old school dance club, with massive speakers mounted everywhere, making the noise level nearly deafening. I grimaced at that thought, wondering how long it would take me to rid those kinds of thoughtless references to hearing loss from my vocabulary.

The dance floor was crowded with a diverse group of dancers, mixed by skill level and rating, as well. The bar was a typical meat market, with women on stools being surrounded by men hoping for a chance to leave with a trophy on their arm for the night.

I tightened my grip on Stephanie's hand and raised an eyebrow to ask if she was all right so far.

"It's surreal," she surprised me by responding.

"What?" I yelled above the crowd, realizing how ridiculous it was to try and talk loud for her benefit.

"I can feel the noise," she explained, putting her hand on her chest where I could feel the thumping of the base, as well, "but I can't hear it. My ears aren't picking up on anything like they used to, but I still feel like I'm surrounded by sound." She finally gave up on finding the right words and said, "I can't explain it, but it isn't at all what I was expecting."

"Good or bad?" I wondered, pulling us to the side so another couple could make their way over to the bar.

Her eyes went back and forth, as though she were weighing both sides. "Good – for now."

I smiled, encouraged that she seemed to be relaxing a little, and then did a quick pass over the crowd, looking for some of the guys. I caught a few of them on the dance floor, and then saw Tank's head towering above the horde at the back wall, where a few of the guys were drinking and sitting out this particular song.

I pulled Stephanie along with me as we wove through the sea of bodies and made our way to the RangeMan contingent. Lester jumped up when we got close and met us just shy of the table to pull Stephanie to him, lifting her feet from the floor and spinning her around. When he set her down and she looked at him, he said, "I'm so glad you came!" There was no denying his sincerity.

Steph seemed a little embarrassed at his display of joy and came back with, "Well, if this goes poorly, keep in mind you're the one I'm going to be pissed off with."

Lester's smile faltered for a moment before he puffed up again and told her, "I can take it, but it's not going to be a problem. You'll be fine."

She smiled at him, but it didn't seem to reach her eyes. At that moment, a tall blonde walked by, and Lester excused himself to follow her to the dance floor.

I pulled Steph to me and asked, "What's wrong?"

She shook her head and said, "I couldn't understand Lester's answer, but I decided he seemed happy, so I didn't want to ask him to repeat it."

"Did you have trouble seeing him?" I wondered, knowing the house lights were low to make the mood more inviting.

She shrugged. "I didn't think so. I think I'm just distracted by everything, so it's harder to concentrate."

I pulled her over and sat down in the chair Lester had vacated, maneuvering Stephanie to sit across my lap. The guys were in rare form, checking out the women and making comments; frankly, I was relieved Stephanie couldn't hear. She thought the world of these guys, and I'd hate for their image to be tarnished because of one night of acting like dogs.

The music switched, and Stephanie turned her head to face me. "New song?"

I nodded that it was, curious how she knew.

Luckily, she told me, "I could feel a shift in the vibrations." She paused, like she was trying to figure something out, and guessed, "It's a slow song."

"That's right," I marveled, amazed at what she could figure out without hearing it.

Stephanie laughed. "I could feel the tempo was slower, but I cheated and looked at the dancers, too."

I loved her honestly and was glad to see her relaxing a little, getting her bearings about being in such a different atmosphere. I decided to push her a little and asked, "Would you like to try dancing?"

Her face fell a little as she glanced over the crowd, and then looked back at me. "Get us far enough into the crowd that the guys can't see me," she said, drawing on that wellspring of courage and strength that I so admired.

She stood up, and I took her hand in mine to find us a place hidden enough that she would let go of her fear of being laughed at, but still in the mix enough that she would know she was the same as everybody else on the dance floor. Once I found a spot, I turned around and drew her into my arms, knowing how much I loved the feel of her against me.

She put one arm around my neck, but the other she moved so that her palm was flat against my chest. I'd noticed her doing that pretty often and knew that she liked to be able to feel the vibrations in my chest when I made noise, so I understood the position.

I put one hand on her hip, just above her rounded ass, letting the other run up her back with my fingers splayed wide to touch as much of her as possible.

I refused to just stand there and sway with no rhythm, despite it being a simple thing that would have counted as dancing. That wasn't how our bodies moved together, and I wasn't going to take the coward's way out. Instead, I slipped my foot between hers so that my thigh was between her legs, and then rolled my hips against hers. I felt her torso expand with a sudden intake of breath at my brazen move, just before she pressed her hips back in return, following my lead.

For the next two minutes, we moved together as one, and the practice we'd done at night of allowing our bodies to speak when our voices could not manifested itself perfectly on the dance floor. I could hear the music and moved us in time with it, not the least bit surprised when Stephanie flawlessly followed my lead.

When the music changed again, Stephanie stiffened, obviously picking up on the new pulse around her, but she made no move to walk away.

I put my bent index finger under her chin to draw her face up to see mine. "Proud of you, Babe."

"Think you can dance to something a little faster," she challenged me, knowing I wouldn't refuse to try.

We were already positioned as close as we could be with our clothes still in place, so I began to move again. I'd watched Stephanie woo many skips to the dance floor and show off the moves she obviously had. I'd asked about it once, and she'd confided her mother forced her to take ballroom dance lessons as a little girl so she'd be able to appropriately waltz at her wedding one day. She'd said she hated the waltz, but she loved the Latin dances she'd learned.

As soon as that memory crossed my mind, I put an inch of space between us and began to pull out my own long unused moves from my childhood when my parents had forced all of us kids to learn how to salsa, rumba, and mambo. She recognized what I was doing and fell in step with me right away. There was never a second's hesitation, even when I spun her away, and then danced my way around her, waiting as she made a trip of her own around my back.

As soon as I pulled her to me once more, I saw her eyes were glittering with such joy and life that I laughed and spun her around again. There was no denying that I was here with the sexiest woman in the joint, and seeing her move that body with such control and grace made me wish there was a subtle way to get us out of here – soon.

When the song shifted again, Stephanie looked up at me, searching for a clue about what was next. I dipped her back over my arm and ran my free hand up her side, stopping to caress her neck and kiss her lips slowly. I blame the feel of her in my arms for the sound that I made, but honestly, no red blooded male could have controlled himself with Stephanie draped over him like she was me, giving the appearance of being there for my feasting.

Her head snapped up and she was laughing, so I pulled her back upright and waited for an explanation.

"You moaned," she commented, obviously picking up on the rumble my sound of appreciation had made.

I let my eyes rake down her body and back up to her face, before saying, "I did."

"How about a drink," she offered, changing the subject so quickly, I knew my face registered my surprise, which only seemed to amuse her more.

If she wanted a drink, then she was planning on sticking around for a while. My libido didn't care for that idea, but my heart was thrilled to know she was having a good time and didn't want to rush out.

We made our way to the tables once more, where a few of the guys sitting out this song were seated. I left Stephanie sitting beside Bobby, to get us both something to drink. I didn't have any trouble getting up to the bar. I put on my blank face and completely ignored the women trying to get my attention.

After successfully getting a couple of beers and a bottle of water, I made my way back over and realized immediately that Stephanie wasn't where I'd left here. I set the drinks down on a table and smacked Tank's arm, perhaps a little harder than necessary, to get his attention.

"What?" he said, rubbing the muscle where my fist had made contact. "I know it's been a long time since you went to a club for fun, but it's still too early to start a bar fight."

"Where in the hell is Stephanie?" I asked, not willing to banter with him at the moment.

Tank smiled at me. Not in the "I'm happy to see you are worried about her" way, but with more of an "I'm laughing at you and how much of a sap you are over this woman" type expression. The difference was subtle, but I'd had years of experience reading his face, and I could make it out clearly.

He lifted his large hand and pointed to the dance floor, causing my head to spin. Standing near the edge of the undulating bodies were Stephanie and Bobby. The song was somewhere between slow and fast, which would usually make it more difficult to dance to, but Bobby was leading her, and she never faltered in following him. There was a respectable amount of space between their bodies, but I still didn't like it when their hips rolled at the same time.

Tank put his hand on my forearm and said, "Easy, Rangeman. They're just dancing."

I looked back at Tank, wanting to tell him that "just dancing" didn't need to include emulating having sex, but when I saw how serious he was, I knew I had to stay put, no matter how hard it was to watch. On the one hand, I had a terrific view of my woman, and from this distance, I could fully appreciate how good she looked and how smoothly she moved. But there was no denying the jealous feelings that cropped up every time Bobby shifted his hands on her body. I knew by his usual standard, he was treating her gently and was being very respectful, but I still didn't like it.

Fortunately, when the song ended, Stephanie looked in my direction, and I lifted my beer bottle in her direction. She turned back to thank Bobby for the dance, and then kept her eyes on mine as she swayed her hips and gave me a sultry vision coming toward me. Despite the empty chairs, she sat down across my lap, not making apology or asking permission. Then she took the bottle from my hand and moved it to her mouth to take a long drink.

"Help yourself," I told her when she looked back to me, as though challenging me to complain about what she'd done.

"Hey, Beautiful," Lester spoke as he approached her, but she didn't see him or respond until he touched her shoulder and held out his hand, effectively asking her to dance with him.

I wanted to object, but decided that would be a mistake, so I squeezed her hip where my hand had been resting, and then dropped my arm so she could stand up easily. Lester had the good sense to move her beyond the first row of bodies, making it more difficult to see how they were moving. I did catch a glimpse of her every so often when he turned her around or stepped back slightly. Each time, the transparency of her emotions clearly written on her face made it obvious she was having a good time, and I knew this was exactly what she needed.

I took a few deep breaths and managed to get my emotions under control, just watching the crowd and how Stephanie shined as a part of it.

I turned away from the dance floor when Zip burst out laughing. I asked what he'd found so funny, and he explained, "I think Lester was forgetting who he was dancing with for a minute there, because Stephanie just told him if he didn't get his hands off her ass, she was going to have you remove them for her."

I laughed at her not thinking twice about using my name to threaten Les and took a long draw from my beer, before setting the empty bottle on the table and moving through the crowd to get back to my woman.

"You can leave now," I informed Lester, ignoring his complaint that it wasn't fair I was just stepping in and interrupting his fun, but he was smart enough to move away just the same.

"Babe," I said, pulling her back against my body and relaxing as soon as the distance between us evaporated. "Do I need to help remove someone's hands from their body?"

She laughed then and had to stop dancing in order to pull herself together. "I see I need to have a chat with Zip about not turning his skills on me."

I shook my head no and confessed, "I was glad to have an excuse to cut in."

For the next two and a half hours, I danced with Stephanie or shared her with one of the men, who each wanted a turn on the big floor with her. Her confidence was flying high, and that on top of her natural beauty and that damn hot dress had nearly every eye in the joint falling on her at some point.

Only one fool was dumb enough to try and enter our area of tables to ask her for a dance. He walked through where Cal and Hal were debating the merits of a red head at the bar and working up a wager to see who would get her number first. But the second he passed between them, the joking ceased and they stood up and closed ranks behind him, just as Zip and Vince stood up in front of him, boxing him in so he couldn't move.

Stephanie watched what they were doing with curiosity and turned to ask me if that was a skip RangeMan needed to haul in.

I laughed, and then told her the truth. "No, I think he was just a poor sap that thought he was going to ask you to dance."

I expected her to fuss about us scaring the stranger, but she seemed to find it more humorous than anything else and went back to leaning against me without further questions.

After the guys turned the poor fool away, I looked around at the group assembled around me and remembered when I'd first started RangeMan, why I'd been so insistent on getting only ex-military men as my staff. There was a brotherhood among us, a sense of belonging and dedication to a cause that couldn't be explained or easily taught to civilians. But watching them protect my woman, as though she were their own, I realized that the loyalty I'd always assumed they had for me was really just an illusion.

Sure, they were committed to their jobs, to the group they lived and worked with, and they respected me and followed my orders, which was more than most men in similar leadership positions could claim. But their true unyielding, never-wavering allegiance was actually to the woman on my lap. She was the thing that unified us past job descriptions and organizational hierarchy. She was the thing that turned us from a group of men with a common past into a family of sorts, determined to have a common future that involved her in some way.

As soon as I realized that, I felt the low level hum of jealousy that had been threatening to build all night fade away. I didn't need to worry anymore. I trusted Stephanie explicitly, but more than that, I realized the men would rather chop off their own balls than do something that would hurt her.

Cal seemed to be the lucky guy with the red head and came over to bump fists with Hal and tell Steph goodnight. One by one, the guys thinned out, either leaving with a flavor of the night on their arm, or admitting defeat and heading back to Haywood. Just a few were left, and they seemed occupied on the dance floor, so I moved my shoulder to get Stephanie's attention once more.

"Are you ready to head home, or do you have another dance in you?" I asked, giving her the power to decide what would happen next.

She looked back out at the dance floor, and then back to me to say, "I'm beat. I think I've danced more tonight than I had in the last few months all rolled together. Let's go home."

Hearing her refer to the apartment on seven as home warmed me. "I like that idea," I agreed, moving so she would stand up first so we could make our way back out to the car.

We made our way silently to Haywood, with me easily slipping into my zone for the ten minute drive. By the time we got upstairs, I was feeling a little strain on my leg and was glad she'd agreed to call it a night. It was mostly healed, but the soreness would return if I overtaxed it, and dancing pulled the muscles in ways that the usual running and sparring did not.

Stephanie kicked off her shoes as soon as we entered the apartment and seemed so relaxed just from that act alone. "I need a shower," she commented, as though she were just talking to herself.

I decided to ignore it in case it was one of those thoughts spoken aloud that she seemed to get so worked up over.

I watched her walk away, and then stopped in my tracks when her blue dress came flying back through the doorway, landing on the floor near my feet. I stood there for a minute, assuming that was an invitation and wondering if she was going to try and hit me with anything else.

I wasn't disappointed when a strapless bra cut through the air, landing just shy of the crumpled dress. I swallowed hard as the image of Stephanie standing just beyond the door way in nothing but her panties entered my thoughts.

Before I could make my feet move, the panties in question made an appearance, meaning Stephanie was naked. I rebooted the connections in my brain to walk once more and heard the shower come on just as I stepped into the bedroom.

Stephanie was leaning in the shower with her back to the door, checking the temperature of the water. My eyes couldn't move from the view as my hands tore at my clothes, trying to get them off as quickly as possible.

Just before she stepped in, I moved behind her and spun her around. I knew my sudden appearance had probably surprised her, but the smile on her face when I saw her let me know she wasn't holding a grudge.

"I'm glad you finally got the message," she teased me.

"I got it... I just didn't like rushing through such eloquent invitations," I countered. "I wanted to see how far you were going to take it.

She giggled at me and pressed her naked body against mine to reply, "I plan on taking it all the way, Carlos."

I growled at the implication and pushed her backward into the shower.

"I love it when you do that," she told me.

"You like it when I take charge?" I asked, wanting to be sure what she was commenting on.

She shook her head no, and I pulled back a little. "I like it when you make sounds like that. I can feel it between us, and I know you're turned on to the point that your control is gone enough for you to make a little noise." Her face was slightly pink, but she wasn't letting her slight embarrassment get in the way of her admission.

The water was moving down our bodies, warming us both and serving to energize us, instead of soothing us for sleep.

"That was just a little growl," I explained to her, "but I'll bet if you put your mind to it, you can pull a much bigger noise than that from me."

Her eyes narrowed, recognizing the trap I was baiting for her. She lifted her hand and let just the nail of her index finger touch my shoulder, before making its way down my chest. It wasn't hard enough to scratch, but there was enough contact to leave a little sting behind it, only heightening my arousal. Considering what she could do with just a single finger, I might have worried about what she was capable of with her entire body.

She looked down, and then gave me a sexy smile. "I hope the guys saw you talking tonight at the club."

I thought that was a strange comment, so I asked, "Why?"

She laughed lightly, before explaining, "Because you're going to be hoarse tomorrow morning, and you might appreciate having an excuse other than me wearing out your vocal chords."

"Babe, I'll gladly confess why I can't talk if you think you've got enough game to make me hoarse," I challenged.

She lifted up on the tips of her toes to bring our mouths closer. With just a hair's breadth between us, she murmured, "Game on, Carlos," and then proceeded to kiss me.

I'd never had a night of passion take away my voice, but I was wise enough to recognize that if it could be done, only the woman pressing her body against mine was up to the challenge.

Bring it on, Babe, I thought, before surrendering to the woman I loved.