“This entire operation runs deeper than me and my team getting burned. Unraveling it will take more than finding a mole, and the only way to do it will be for me to erase myself.”
Patch shook his head like a wet dog.
“You don’t understand, Patch. It’s more than me going in to get a rogue agent. It’s?—”
He covered her mouth. “I made a promise to McGuire, and I’m not going to break it.” He dropped his hand, which landed on her bare thigh. His finger danced over her skin. “I went over themission details you gave me. I replayed them in my head a dozen times. I know you left things out, so does your brother. We’re not idiots. We’ve gone into battle where intel was either purposely left out or absolutely faulty. But this wasn’t that. Whoever set you up, it wasn’t about covering whatever Jenkins was doing. Or giving him a longer leash. And it wasn’t just about silencing you. It was about making sure whatever you know—or whatever they think you know—is buried with you.” He lowered his chin. “If you become a ghost, like you made us, they win.”
“Is that what you believe happened with Langley?”
“No,” he said quickly and flatly. As if he didn’t believe in his single word answer, but at the same time, resolved himself to the fact they had no other options, which wasn’t true. “We had two choices. We could’ve come back. We could’ve fought to expose the cover-up. But at what risk? And whose lives would’ve been at stake by doing so?” He pressed his finger over her lips. “Langley turned his back on us to protect himself and a political alliance. It wasn’t about protecting a chain inside a covert world.” He tapped her nose. “You run that world.”
“That’s a stretch.” She sighed, lifting her glass, staring at the clear liquid, before taking another gulp. “I might be high up in the shadows, but?—”
“There’s no buts, Savvy. You hold the cards. It’s one thing to hide out while we figure out the players and why they want you gone, but only you can fix what’s wrong from the inside. You have that power, but you can’t do it if you're a ghost. You can only do it if you go back.” He took her glass, stood, and sauntered across the room. “Now go back to bed. McGuire is gathering the team. He expects me to get you to tell me what you know before they get here. I’m hoping I don’t have to extract it like I’m a freaking dentist pulling teeth. We’ll hash out a plan.” He turned, leaned against the bar, and stared at her with hard eyes. The same eyes she’d gazed into the day he’d told her hedidn’t care enough to stick it out. “One that doesn’t include you going off-grid.”
She jumped to her feet, marched across the room, and poked him in the chest. “You don’t get to tell me what to do, and neither does McGuire.” Well, shit. This wasn’t going as she planned. All she wanted was to get his help with her brother to see things her way, and then she wanted to seduce Patch.
That just flew out the window.
He curled his fingers around her wrist. “Don’t make me lie to McGuire. I can’t do that again.”
“I’m not asking you to lie.” She leaned into his strong frame. “Just make him see that?—”
“No. I agree with McGuire on this one. Living on the fringe… like this…” He waved his hand. “It’s no place for you.”
“Oh, but it’s a good way for you to live.” She pressed her hand against his chest. “Is your heart even beating inside there? Do you feel anything anymore? Or are you just dead inside?”
He huffed out a breath through his nose, glaring at her with hurt, anger, and something… something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on, flicking in his dark eyes. His chest heaved up and down with each raspy breath. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t freaking move. He just stood there, staring.
And then he did what she least expected.
He grabbed her around the waist, crushing her against his hard body, slamming his mouth against hers, forcing his tongue between her lips. It was raw. It was honest. And she melted in his arms.
His kiss was an onslaught, a desperate show of desire. As their bodies pressed together, she could feel the heat radiating off him, revealing a need that rivaled her own. She responded eagerly, her fingers digging into the muscled contours of his back.
“Do I feel anything?” he asked, breaking away momentarily, his voice breathless. His gaze locked on hers. It wasn’t filled with anger or hurt now. Instead, raw passion danced in the oceans of his eyes, pulling her deeper. “Of course I feel. I’m not dead and I can’t fucking think straight when you’re around.” His hands, rough from years of grueling missions, yet tender in touch, roamed her body. His fingers traced the outline of her waist and moved farther up, cupping her face gently.
Her heart pounded like a drum in her chest as he ran his thumb along her cheekbone, tracing her jawline before diving into another fierce kiss.
As his lips pressed against hers, she wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling him closer. He tasted so familiar—a mix of tequila and the distinct flavor that was purely Patch. Their tongues danced harmoniously as all the pent-up emotions of five long years bubbled to the surface, making their bodies yearn for one another's touch.
His strong hands gently tugged at her T-shirt, discarding it to the side. Her heart fluttered as one hand brushed up the curve of her spine and tortured her tight nipple.
Patch pulled back only slightly, his eyes roaming over the bare skin he’d just revealed. Savvy could feel herself blushing under his intense gaze. There was admiration and an unfiltered desire that made her body respond in kind.
With a swift, fluid motion, he lifted her onto the bar, the smooth wood cold against her bare thighs. Balancing on one elbow, he reached for her glass of tequila and held it to her lips. Savvy took a gulp, the liquor burning a trail down her throat and igniting an even more furious fire.
“Take another sip, but don’t swallow. Feed it to me,” he whispered as he brought the glass to her lips one more time.
She filled her mouth and he kissed her good and hard.
“That was tasty,” he murmured with a grin. As he set the glass down with a determined clink, his brown eyes burned into hers. He ran his hands along her legs, causing her to shiver. The anticipation built as their breaths quickened in the silence of the swamp night.
He kissed her playfully. He’d always been good at teasing her, and she relished in it.
Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as her other hand explored the firm muscles of his torso and abdomen. She could feel his heart pounding, proving he was alive beneath the battle-hardened exterior. His kiss deepened, growing hungrier, as if he had been starved for years and was only now getting to feast on her.
They broke away for air only when absolutely necessary, gasping in between kisses. His touch left a trail of heat wherever it wandered—skimming over her collarbones, trailing down to her waistline, but never farther, even when she wiggled, encouraging him to do so. He kissed her neck, whispering words she couldn’t quite catch but understood nevertheless.
