Her lips parted, but he wasn’t finished.
“Every door was chosen for you. Every move dictated by survival…then by the FBI.” His voice pitched lower, like a soothing caress that spread liquid heat over her skin at the sametime. “But you aren’t stuck anymore, Opal. You don’t have to live inside their limits.”
Her chest ached. The words sliced into her like a blade and a balm all at once.
She looked away, blinking hard. “The only bright light I ever had…was Smith.” She hesitated before jerking her gaze back to his. “Until…until you.”
The admission hung between them, as fragile as a sliver of moon in the sky.
Neither of them moved.
At that moment, Opal knew the line had already been crossed.
ELEVEN
The words left her mouth—until you—and a wall inside Sinner crumbled.
He was off the couch before his brain caught up to his body, crossing the room in three strides. He framed her face with his hands and tilted her head back as he crushed his mouth to hers.
She made a sound—surprise or surrender, he didn’t know—but she fisted his shirt and pulled him closer. The kiss was desperate, hungry, like they were both drowning and the only air left existed in each other.
He pressed her harder against the wall, his body caging her in, and kissed her like he could pour everything he’d never been able to say into this single moment. He swept his tongue against hers, tasting much more than the sweetness of the woman. He tasted the vulnerability she’d just showed him, and the trust that cost her everything.
Everyone had trauma. Everyone had scars.
But the specific hell of not existing, of being erased? Of having their entire life dictated by someone else’s choices and spending every damn day since clawing their way back to a baseline that felt real?
He and Opal shared that. Along with god knew how many others in Lazarus who were trained to be government agents.
She issued soft moans as he angled his head and plunged his tongue into her mouth. She met him stroke for stroke, short nails raking over his chest.
He broke the kiss to drag his mouth along her jaw, down the column of her throat. She arched into him, her breath coming in shallow gasps that made him want to devour her.
“Sinner—”
“I know,” he rasped against her flesh. He slid his hands down her sides, feeling the curves and her power layered beneath them. “Iknow, sweetheart.”
She clasped his face and pulled it back to hers, kissing him with a ferocity that matched his own. Her nails scraped against his scalp and shot fire straight down his spine.
He wanted to give her everything. Wanted to show her that she wasn’t alone anymore, that someone saw her—really fucking saw her—and wasn’t running away.
When he finally regained enough of his wits to stop plundering her, he pulled back. They were both breathing hard. Her eyes were wide, her lips swollen from his mouth…
She’d never looked more beautiful.
He held her gaze as he reached for the cuff of the flannel shirt he wore, fingers working the button free with deliberate slowness. Her chest rose and fell as she watched.
“The women on base told me you had Zaddy energy. I didn’t see it until now.”
Flashing a grin, he moved to the other cuff, popping it open while his stare burned down into hers.You’re mine.
Her eyelids drooped.And I’m giving myself to you.
The message passed between them without words.
He went for the line of buttons running down his chest next and popped each one with a slow deliberation that she tracked. When he reached the final button, he eased his arm out and peeled the flannel off. He held her gaze captive as he pulled the T-shirt underneath it over his head and dropped it on the floor.
She drank in the scars that decorated his chest. Some from combat, some from missions gone sideways. One from a bar fight in Coronado when he was too young and too stupid to walk away.
