I’m so fucking close I can’t hold on much longer. Sliding one hand between us, I find her clit, and with the barest hint of pressure, send her flying once more. Her release is too much, and as she clenches around me, I let go as I break off the kiss and shout her name.
After I disposeof the condom and clean up a little, I run a washcloth under warm water and return to the bed where Mik’s curled on her side, watching me. She holds out her hand, but I want to do this—need to do this—after what we just shared. “Let me take care of you a little, sweetheart.” Swiping the cloth over her body, I memorize every line and curve, marveling at her trust, her strength, her understanding.
“Do you…sleep naked?” she asks, a hint of uncertainty in her voice.
“Not usually.” I snag a clean pair of boxer briefs from my bag and tug them on. “But I will if you want me to.”
Mik shakes her head gently and scoots to the edge of the bed. “I’ve tried…a few times. But most times, I can’t fall asleep. I just keep thinking…what if there’s a fire? I’d be running out the door with no clothes on.” Her little laugh warms something inside of me and chips away a little more of the wall life built around my heart.
She pads over to her dresser and once she’s donned an old Berkeley t-shirt, panties, and a silky pair of shorts, she slips under the sheet and snuggles up to me. “This is real, right?”
“Us?” I ask smoothing a hand over her hair.
“Yes.” Her voice has dropped to a whisper, and she drapes her arm around my waist and holds on tight. “This doesn’t happen in real life.”
“Well, don’t look now, sweetheart,” stretching up to flip off the light, “but we’re here. In your bed. And what we just did? That felt pretty damn real to me.”
“What happens now?” Mik yawns and settles closer to me.
“Now, we sleep. You’re exhausted.”
She nudges me with a knee. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
“Tomorrow, maybe we’ll see what it feels like to do something…normal.”
“Normal? I’m not sure wedonormal. But okay. I’ll try anything. Once.” Her laugh settles me in a way no other sound can, and I close my eyes as she adds, “Anything but sushi.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Austin
After twenty plus years on active duty, even with the last six spent behind a desk, it’s impossible for me to sleep in, and I’m up by 6:00 a.m. All Mik has in her fridge are a few jars of condiments, and I don’t even see coffee beans.
An hour later, I have a grocery order on the way, and hunch over my tablet, checking my email for the first time in weeks. Shit. Two emails from Griff.
Pritchard,
When you said you were going off the grid, I didn’t think you meant completely. Couldn’t have given me a heads up? And what’s with sending me to Boston to meet with a blind guy? In case you didn’t know, I’m mostly deaf, not blind. Don’t try to tell me I can still live a full life. Not until you’re walking around without your fucking arm too.
Don’t contact me again.
-Griff
The only way I control my urge to throw the tablet across the room is to remind myself this is Mik’s house. There’s no way I’m going to disrespect her like that. Given how he signed off, I’m amazed he sent a second email a week after the first. Until I open it.
Austin,
I owe you an apology. I didn’t ask how he found me, but Dax Holloway knocked on the door of my hotel room a couple of hours after I stormed out of his office. The dude is…intense. Asked me questions for-fucking-ever, then told me to show up at Second Sight in three days without the massive stick up my ass.
I guess I’m going. Not like I have anything better to do.
-Griff
Unsurprising. The few times I’ve been in the same room with Dax, his presence…it’s heavy. Serious. I outrank the man by miles, but Special Forces guys always carry themselves the same way. With an attitude that says, “Don’t fuck with me, or they’ll never find your body.”
SEALs are even worse.
Knowing the man will be awake, even this early, I call Dax. “So, got yourself into some trouble down in Mexico?” he says without even a greeting.
