I chuckled, the sound rumbling through my chest. "Nah. Too claustrophobic. All that floating in a tin can? I'd go nuts."
She lifted her head slightly, propping her chin on my sternum, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "You? Claustrophobic? The guy who probably crawls through vents for a living?"
I grinned. "Vents are different. At least there's an objective. Get in, get out, don't die."
She laughed softly, the vibration traveling straight through me. "Fair. I wanted to be a mermaid."
"A mermaid?"
"Yeah. Swim all day, no responsibilities, just ... freedom."
Her voice trailed off, and I caught the wistful note in it.
Freedom.
The word hit me harder than it should have.
I'd spent my life chasing some version of it—out of St. Paul's, into the Navy, through ops that left me more chained than ever.
And here she was, talking about it like it was a childhood dream, while I held her in a fortress designed to keep the world out.
I tightened my arm around her. "You'd make a hell of a mermaid."
She smiled, pressing a kiss to my chest. "Thanks. But I think I'd miss coffee too much."
We lapsed into silence again, the kind that didn't need filling. My mind wandered, circling back to the discomfort that had been gnawing at me all day. Merrick. The past. The danger I'd dragged to her doorstep. It had subsided a little in the heat ofthe moment—faded under the weight of her body on mine, her moans in my ear—but it was still there, lurking like a shadow in the corner of the room.
At least here, in The Sanctuary, we were safe. The walls were armored. The doors locked tighter than a vault. Ellsworth had eyes everywhere—cameras, sensors, probably some shit I didn't even know about. No one was getting in without an invitation or a fight they couldn't win.
But tomorrow? The day after? I couldn't keep her locked away forever. And the longer she stayed with me, the bigger the target on her back.
She shifted against me, her thigh sliding over mine, and the thought dissolved. For now, at least.
"You okay?" she asked softly, sensing the tension.
"Yeah," I lied. "Just thinking."
"About?"
I hesitated, then went with half-truth. "About how good this feels."
She smiled against my skin. "It does."
We stayed like that for a while longer—maybe minutes, maybe an hour. Time blurred in the quiet. Eventually, her stomach growled, soft but insistent, and we both laughed.
"Hungry?" I asked.
"Starving," she admitted. "All that ... exertion."
I grinned. "Come on. Let's see what Ellsworth left us."
She sat up, stretching, and I couldn't help but watch the way her body moved—long lines, soft curves, the faint marks my hands had left on her hips. Christ, she was beautiful. And mine. For now, at least.
We showered together.
It started innocently enough—or as innocent as it could be after what we'd just done. I turned on the water, letting it run hot, steam filling the bathroom like a veil. She stepped in first,her back to me, water cascading over her shoulders, darkening her hair until it clung to her skin.
I followed, the heat hitting me like a wave. The shower was big—another Sanctuary perk, all marble and glass and multiple heads that made it feel like standing in a rainstorm. I came up behind her, my hands settling on her waist, pulling her back against my chest.
