by Elise Faber
She gasped.
Then smiled, slow and sexy and plumb full of heat, and reached for the hem of her T-shirt.
“Ava,” I warned.
“I think it’s a sign, don’t you?” she asked, tugging it up, the already sodden material hitting the blanket next to her with a soft plop.
I inched back, my fingers itching to touch.
Still. Healing.
As evidenced by the bright red marks on her abdomen.
Her hand went to the button of her shorts.
“Ava.”
She flicked it open, tugged down the zipper, and lifted her hips, sliding the material down her thighs.
One slender sexy foot out, leaving the material around the cast.
“Want to help a girl out?” she asked.
I shook my head, too focused on all that skin on display, on those curves. My cock was hard, my mouth was dry, and . . .
She reached behind her, tugged the plain cotton bra up and over her head.
And I stopped thinking.
I closed the distance between us, pulled her on top of me, and kissed her with every bit of need that had been growing over the last weeks—hell, the last years. My fingers skimmed over the heated silk of her torso, drew patterns in the water dotting her skin. I tugged her down, brought my lips to hers.
“No,” she gasped a moment later, pulling back.
Fuck. Too much, too soon. I’d hurt her or scared her or—
I started to set her aside.
She placed her hands on mine, eyes gentle. “No,” she said. “I don’t want you to love me like I’m fragile, amore.”
The endearment made my heart pulse. “How do you want me to love you?”
Her mouth curved. “Like it’s our first time and our last. Like you want to hurry up and get to everything and like you want to kiss me inch by inch by inch.” She touched my cheek, water streaming down her hair, dripping off her body and onto mine. “Like we only have ten minutes and like we have a century.” Her lips came close. “But not like I’m fragile. Never like I’m fragile.”
My arms closed around her, brought her flush against me. “God, I love you.”
Her eyes widened, but since declaring my adoration for this woman hadn’t exactly been on my radar, and I wasn’t sure if the shock on her face was good or bad, I took her words to heart.
I kissed her.
Like I’d just handed my heart to her on a silver platter.
Because that was what it felt like.
As though she knew what I was feeling, Ava placed her hand on my chest, just over where my heart was thundering. “I love you, too,” she murmured, pressing back slightly. “Which is why I think I was so desperate to keep you away. I fell for you a long time ago.” Her teeth bit into her bottom lip.
Unsure.
She was unsure and yet so fucking brave. Because she’d let the walls down.
Because she’d let me in.
“I fell for you longer ago.”
Amusement replaced nerves. “Yeah? Well, what if I said I fell for you first?”
I nipped her lips. “Should we have a competition to decide who fell in love first?”
A grin. “Maybe.”
“Later,” I murmured, carefully lifting her off me and setting her on the blanket. A second later, I was on top of her, kissing my way down her throat, nipping at the spot I’d discovered two years ago, just beneath her right collarbone, that was excruciatingly sensitive.
She shivered, fingers tunneling into my hair, holding me close. “You remembered.”
“I remember everything.”
Just as I’d remember every moment of this day. Love in her eyes, pink on her cheeks. Rivulets of water streaming down those delicious curves. Whiskey on her tongue. Goose bumps on her skin as I kissed my way between her thighs, pushed her underwear down her legs. A heel pressing into my spine.
The way she cried out my name when I licked her.
“Oh—” She broke off, hands falling to her sides, head thrown back. “That’s—”
“Mmm,” I murmured, circling her clit with my tongue, pressing firmly, sinking a finger into the tight wet heat, and keeping the pressure and rhythm consistent as she arched against me, as her hands clenched, as—
She burst into flames, convulsing around my finger.
“Fuck, you’re pretty,” I said, moving up her body and kissing her lips, coaxing her down with gentle strokes between her legs. My cock was a hard brand in my shorts, certainly obvious, as my clothing was completely soaked through and plastered against my body.
Her hand trailed lazily up and down my back. “It’s not fair you’re that good at that.”
“I think it’s very fair,” I told her. “I like eating you out.”
“Permission granted,” she said. “Anytime you want.”
I laughed, pressed a kiss to her temple. “I’m going to take—”
She flipped me in an obscenely tricky move, flopping me over onto my back, rising onto her knees as she straddled my hips. “Your ank—”
Her lips found mine, her tongue thrusting into my mouth, her hands slipping beneath the fabric of my T-shirt.
And I never finished my sentence.
Not when she tugged up on the shirt, and I helped her yank it over my head. Not when she reached behind her and unbuttoned my shorts, shifting so she could tug them down enough to free my cock. Not when she put her hand on me and stroked firmly.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
I groaned, placed my hand over hers, stilling her, lest I embarrass myself.
She rose up, slowly sank down.
Wet heat on the tip of my cock.
The barest thread of sanity laced through me, and I gripped her hips, stopping her downward motion, even though every cell in my body was telling me to yank her down, to press deep inside, to move and move and move. “Cond—”
Her fingers pressed over my lips. “IUD.” She smiled.
I nipped her fingertips, guided her hips down instead of up.
And . . . fuck that was everything. Tight and wet, hot and deep. Sliding into her until her pelvis rested on mine. She shifted, pressing closer, a moan rumbling up the back of her throat.
“Dan?” she breathed.
“Yes, love.”
A ghost of a smile, bending so her lips met mine. When she straightened, she lifted my hands to her hips. “I think I need a little help. This cast—”
I moved.
Using one of her tricks.
Rolling her to her back, pulling out, thrusting in, all while kissing her with every ounce of love I possessed. This wonderful, difficult, smart, beautiful, amazing woman had given me the best gift of my life.
I wasn’t going to waste it.
Out and in. Out and in.
Her uninjured leg hitched around my hip, and I took the hint, tilting my pelvis, hitting her at just the right angle. And fuck, but the moan that dropped off her lips was absolutely the best sound on the planet.
Or maybe that was the way she breathed my name when she got close again, fingers digging into my shoulders, hips meeting mine.
Sweat slid down my back, mingling with the rain.
My abs burned like a motherfucker.
An orgasm coiled at the base of my spine, threatened to burst outward.
Closer and closer, dangerously towing that line of an explosion, and then . . . thank fuck, she exploded, pussy clenching, moisture coating my cock.
I thrust once more.
And catapulted over the edge.
Wave after wave of pleasure slid through me, making every muscle tighten for long, glorious moments. I came to who knew how long later, breathing like I’d run a marathon, thankfully having had enough brainpower left to have remembered to brace myself over her.
“I love you,” I murmured, pressing a kiss to each of her closed eyelids.
A smile teased up the edges of her mouth. “You’re okay, amore.”
I nipped that
curve. “Just okay.”
A pat to my back. “Don’t worry,” she murmured. “We have plenty of time to work on it.”
I growled, nibbled at her jaw, her throat.
She giggled.
And I felt like the luckiest man on the planet all over again.
Especially when she slipped her fingers into the hair on my nape and said, “I love you, too.”
The rain slowed to a drizzle.
The sun continued its descent.
The heat returned, not enough to drive us inside, but keeping it warm enough that we stayed outside, the rain drying from our bodies. Ava yawned and rested her head on my chest.
“For the record,” she said. “That was better than okay.”
Twenty-Eight
Central Georgia
Dan’s cabin
09:55hrs local time
Ava
Luna 2.0 wasn’t Luna.
But she was pretty damned good.
Lighter than her predecessor, but with good range and a reliable scope.
I’d spent the morning on my belly, practicing on targets Dan had set up in a clearing behind the cabin.
And though my ankle was aching, my abdomen sore from the exercise, I’d felt like Luna 2.0 and I had gone on a great first date.
“Here’s to many more,” I whispered, stretching my neck and getting ready to pack it in for the moment. The sun had risen, bringing with it all the heat and humidity of the day. And while I’d enjoyed the lazy afternoon and evening yesterday, I was stiff, hungry, and ready for a shower.
Snap.
I didn’t immediately react, thinking it was Dan coming out to tell me to take a break. The man could be pushy as hell—case in point, pushing through my walls, not to mention the way he’d gotten my stubborn ass to look inward and reconsider what I’d always thought was the only path for my life. But he was also good, and I wasn’t stupid enough to not appreciate that he’d fought for me, that he loved me because of who I was and what I’d survived, instead of in spite of all that.
And he loved me.
Me.
When I’d spent so much of my life thinking that was impossible.
I loved him.
Another seemingly impossible feat, and yet something that was . . . so fucking easy. Because it felt right and incredible and like every one of the ragged edges inside me was soothed when he was near.
Snap.
I shifted, preparing to call out, knowing he wouldn’t be able to see me readily because I’d moved from the center of the clearing into the shade of a tree about forty-five minutes before.
I might have grown up in the heat of Mediterranean summers, but I swore I was going to wither away in these Southern ones.
Smiling, I pushed my glasses up the bridge of my sweaty nose, reached for the scope, readying to unscrew it, to put it into the case beside me—
Snap.
My nape prickled.
Because that was the third noise, the third opportunity for Dan to announce himself.
And he hadn’t.
And my instincts were screaming.
I lifted my head slowly, eyes searching, ears open and listening.
Snap.
Closer this time. Close enough that Dan would have certainly announced himself.
Close enough that the person was dangerously close.
Movement at my back had me leaping up, gripping Luna 2.0 tightly as I spun and faced—
Daniel.
“You’re supposed to be dead,” I said.
“I’m hard to kill.” He smirked, crossed his arms, and leaned back against the tree, less than ten feet from me. The man was handsome, I’d give him that. Large biceps, narrow hips, a pretty face with a strong jaw and kissable lips. Too bad he was an absolute fucker.
Still, he was also close, an easy enough target to shoot.
I lifted my rifle.
“You sure you want to do that?” he asked, stretching casually, and I saw the faint pink line on his throat that must have been the result of Laila’s knife at the warehouse.
I put my finger on the trigger. “Pretty fucking sure.”
“You’re not even going to ask where your boy-toy is?”
I had to work not to react, worry for Dan coursing through me. I couldn’t think about that, not at the moment, not when I wasn’t certain that Daniel had come alone. Because I was fairly certain he hadn’t.
“How do you know about this place?” I asked instead of biting.
A shrug. “Property records are easy to trace when you know what to look for.” His eyes flicked to the side, the barest amount of movement I barely detected.
But one I detected just in time.
I swiveled on my cast, my ankle protesting the movement.
I was fast enough anyway, dodging the man creeping up behind me, not bothering to consider as I fired off two rounds that hit him right in his chest. He collapsed to the ground, dead before his body hit the dirt, and I spun back, seeing Daniel had taken several steps toward me.
Pointing the barrel of the gun at his crotch, I asked archly, “Are you attached to that part?”
Palms up, he leaned back against the tree again.
“How’s that ankle?”
“Fucking fabulous,” I snapped. “Why are you here?”
“Turns out that your dear cousin Sergio would like a word with you.”
I expanded my senses, certain there were more of the enemy out there. “And you’re what? A fucking lapdog?”
Anger on that handsome face. “I’ve got something important now,” he spat.
“Evil on your soul?” I countered.
A slow, sickening smile. “Power,” he said, pushing off the tree again. “So much power that you idiots at the agency don’t even know what you’re missing. Come with me to Sergio, join your family, and fulfill your legacy. We can rule the fucking world if we play our cards right.”
“How?” I asked, lifting the gun slightly higher when he took a step toward me. “By trading in people, in innocents?” I shook my head. “I can never do that.”
“Can’t you?” he asked condescendingly. “Haven’t you already perfected that?”
Once the memory might have had my stomach twisting itself into knots, horror at my past actions making me sick. Today, I knew that I hadn’t forgiven myself, but I also knew I wasn’t that child of the Toscalos any longer, hadn’t been one of them for a very long time.
And I wouldn’t ever be again.
A shift in the air to my right, to my left, behind me.
Surrounded.
Fuck.
Where was Dan?
In front of me, Daniel smiled, and I watched him almost from outside my body, sensing his nod almost before he completed it.
Air moved.
I dropped to my knees, out of reach of the first man who came for me.
Pop. Pop.
Dead.
I rolled, spun around, aimed at the one on the other side.
But the cast made me slow, a little clumsy, and it took three bullets to bring him down. I started to push up, but before I could move again, shift to hit the final man bursting through the trees, a hand grabbed my hair, yanking my head back, pain exploding in my scalp.
Daniel grabbed Luna 2.0 and tossed her to the side.
“Enough,” he muttered when I threw an elbow, clawed at his hand, kicked back with my good foot. “I said, enough.” He punched me hard in the temple, making my vision blacken for a moment, my breath come in rapid gusts.
“Fuck you!” I snapped, throwing my head back, cracking my skull against his chin.
He cursed, fingers loosening, and I ripped myself from his grip, losing more than a few hairs in the process, but then I was free, lurching toward my gun just in time to see Dan burst through the trees and launch himself at the final man who’d tried to come up behind me.
Knowing the man was fucked, I turned back to Daniel.
Only to watch him take off through the trees. Rolling, I propped my
self on my elbows, lined up my shot, and . . . fired.
Missed.
I breathed, shot again.
He tripped and the bullet went wide.
“Come on,” I whispered, knowing this was my last shot, that if I didn’t take him down with this bullet, he would disappear again and—
I pulled the trigger.
Daniel fell.
Then got back up.
“Fuck,” I hissed, tossing down the gun, pushing to my feet, determined to go after him, cast on my foot or not.
I turned to check on Dan, saw he’d taken down the final man.
And . . . was clutching his side.
Red soaking through his white T-shirt.
His blue eyes met mine, hazy with pain. “I’m really fucking tired of getting shot,” he muttered.
Then he toppled forward.
Epilogue
Part One
KTS Satellite Base
Western Georgia
16:12hrs local time
Dan
Brit was going to kill me.
Three bullet wounds in a month.
Olive glared down at me. “You made me fly from England all the way to this hot-ass hellhole in the middle of the summer. What the fuck is wrong with you?” she snapped.
“I didn’t exactly plan on getting shot,” I muttered.
“Hmph.”
“And you didn’t have to fly out here,” I pointed out. “Linc had it perfectly in hand.”
Her hand covered my mouth. “Do not speak the Evil One’s name.”
I rolled my eyes, the rivalry between the two doctors was well-known, but I didn’t say anything further. The woman was checking my wound, I wasn’t about to do anything to piss her off.
“The stitches look fine,” she grumbled. “Not perfect. But they’ll work.”
“Such ringing compliments,” the Evil One himself said, walking through the door to the infirmary.
Frankly, I considered myself lucky that Lincoln had been here when Ava had driven me in. He was one of the few doctors I trusted, and I’d worked with him before, knew him to be quick and efficient.
And slightly less dramatic than Olive.
Not that I didn’t love the girl.
Especially since she slapped the bandage on my side and immediately went to Linc—well, to Ava since Linc hadn’t actually just walked through the door. He’d been pushing the wheelchair with my girl.
