“Navy SEAL. Always prepared for any outcome.”
She laughed. Actually laughed. And the sound was so unexpected, so perfect, that Garrett had to kiss her again just to taste her joy.
He retrieved the condom and dealt with it quickly. When he settled between her thighs, Claire’s hands framed his face.
“Hey,” she said softly. “You still with me?”
“Yeah.” He kissed her palm. “I’m with you.”
“Then stop holding back. I won’t break.”
“I know you won’t.” Because she was the strongest person he knew. “But I might.”
Her expression softened. “Then break. I’ve got you.”
And somehow, impossibly, he believed her.
When he finally pushed inside, Claire’s breath hitched. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, holding on. He stilled, gave her time to adjust, watched her face. “Okay?” he asked.
“Better than okay.” She rolled her hips experimentally, and Garrett groaned. “Move. Please.”
He did. Slow at first, letting her set the pace. But she urged him faster, deeper, her legs wrapping around his waist. Her short nails dug into his back, and her teeth grazed his neck.
They found a rhythm that was both familiar and entirely new, like they’d done this before. Like they were meant to fit together exactly like this. Claire’s breath came in gasps. Garrett buried his face in her neck, breathed her in—vanilla shampoo and sweat and something indefinably her. His hands gripped her hips, angled her just right, and she cried out.
“That’s it,” he murmured against her skin. “Let go.”
“Not without you.”
“Claire—”
“Together,” she insisted. Her hand slid between them, and the added pressure made his vision go white.
They fell together. Shattered together. Held on to each other like the world was ending and this was all that mattered.
Maybe it was.
Afterward, they lay tangled in sheets that smelled like sex and Claire’s soap. Garrett’s heart was still racing, his breathing unsteady. Claire curled against his side, her head on his chest, one leg thrown over his.
“That was...” she started.
“Yeah.”
“Are you always this articulate post-sex?”
He laughed. “Only with you.”
Claire propped herself up on one elbow and looked down at him. Her hair was a mess. Her lips were swollen. She’d never looked more beautiful. “Can I ask you something?” she said.
Garrett tensed. “Depends on the question.”
“Why did you really take this mission? And don’t say it’s just your job.”
His chest tightened because he couldn’t tell her the truth. Not yet. But he couldn’t lie to her either. Not after this.
“Because when I saw your file,” he said carefully, “when I read about what you’d survived, what you’d overcome…I knew I had to help. You reminded me of someone I lost. Someone I couldn’t save.”
“Your sister.”
