“You’re very motivating.”
She lifted herself over my cock, and sank down slowly, taking me inch by inch until I was fully seated inside of her. I watched her above me, her head lolled back, her body moving with confidence and purpose. Brooke, taking her pleasure, using my body for her own satisfaction, was the most stunning thing I’d ever seen.
After we were both done again, she collapsed, boneless and spent. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
“Stay right here,” I murmured, meaning far more than just this physical position.
“I’m not going anywhere.” Her voice was already heavy with approaching sleep.
As her breathing evened out, I held her, feeling more complete than I had in years. Tomorrow would bring danger—Fenix, Greek Fire, and the mission that could cost thousands of lives if we failed.
But for the first time since Afghanistan, I wasn’t just fighting to atone for past failures. I was fighting for a future, for the chance to wake up with her like this again and again. I buried my nose in her hair, breathing in the faint scent of her shampoo, and let myself drift off.
Chapter 33
Brooke
I pausedat the top of the stairs, adjusting the collar of my black turtleneck for the fifteenth time that morning. Rav had only mentioned once that no one would care about the scars, but the habit was too hard to break.
“Ready?” he asked as he took my hand.
Such a simple question.
Was I ready for Pompeii? To come face-to-face with the people who’d murdered to steal the Greek Fire formula? Or was I ready to face Rav’s friends and teammates after what he and I had done last night?
I nodded, but only for the Pompeii trip. I was dreading the rest. “We should have been downstairs an hour ago.”
The amphitheater would open at seven, the concert would start at eight, then the fireworks were scheduled for ten. It was already eleven o’clock in the morning, and we were running behind schedule.
He pulled me into his arms and looked into my eyes. “You’ve already earned their respect. Don’t worry about that. The analysts are analyzing, and the operators will operate.”
What was I, though? My Pendragon team was in position at the Martinelli lab that Brie’s team had identified. Rav’s Reynolds team was already meeting downstairs.
And I was playing house with Rav LaPierre.
Last night felt like a distant memory. If the man who’d had me up half the night weren’t standing next to me, I could have convinced myself it was a dream.
The experience still hummed beneath my skin—the way he’d whispered against my ear, the weight of him above me, the unexpected sensations of his hands on my scars. The scientist in me wanted to document every neurological response, every endorphin release, every oxytocin surge; the woman in me simply wanted to remember.
Both sides of me filed the memories away for later examination, when thousands of lives weren’t hanging in the balance.
He kissed me on the forehead. “Let’s go.”
We descended together, but despite the magnetic pull between us, I tugged my hand free at the first landing.
“Coffee?” Rav asked, nodding toward the kitchen.
“Please.”
As we stepped into the kitchen, my eyes immediately went to the wooden table where we’d started last night. The memory flashed hot and vivid—my back against the wood, Rav standing between my thighs, both of us too desperate to make it upstairs. Heat bloomed across my cheeks, and I quickly turned toward the coffee machine.
That table had made an absolute racket.
“Something wrong, Dr. McAllister?” Rav asked, his voice full of faux innocence.
“Just calculating dosage requirements,” I said, focusing intently on the espresso machine’s pressure gauge.
“Interesting. I was thinking about chemical reactions myself.” Rav stepped closer, reaching across me for a mug instead of walking around. “Specifically, the way certain catalysts can accelerate reaction rates.”
