The gun range was on the same level, and it was here that Christian had been teaching her how to handle firearms almost every day—whatever she needed to ensure she never again had to rely on her “abilities” to protect herself. Or someone she cared about.
Gemma hurried into the locker room that adjoined the gym, slipped out of her medic uniform and into her exercise clothes, and grabbed her hand wraps. She’d gotten great at putting them on over the past six weeks. It never took more than a minute now.
Christian was in the middle of planking when she found him in the massive gym. Smirking, she waited until he noticed her and then sat on his back.
He laughed, his form barely faltering. “Every time.”
She giggled. “I’m just checking for consistency.”
He bucked her off before tackling her to the floor, his legs straddling hers, his breath tickling her forehead. “After last night, I’m honestly surprised I have any strength left.”
Christian’s hazel-green eyes gleamed with mischief, sparking a furious heat in her cheeks. Last nighthadbeen amazing. Chills ran down her spine just thinking about it.
Gemma hooked his arm and ankle and thrust her hips upward. Christian swore as he tipped forward, and Gemma drove her hips into his, rolling him onto his back. She planted her hands on his chest as his laughter filled the empty room. She grinned as his heart beat against her palms.
“You are getting really good at that,” he said, smiling.
“I had a good teacher.” She winked.
Christian kissed her so hard and fast that she forgot how to breathe. His lips opened hers with a furious hunger, and a voracious longing built low in her belly. Fighting the urge to give in and rock her hips against his, she gently pushed off his chest and rolled onto the floor next to him. The mat was cool against her warming skin.
Christian let out a playful groan.
“We’re here to spar, Holm. Remember?”
“I thought that’s what we were doing.” There was laughter in his voice.
Gemma opened her mouth to respond when her biochip chimed. She tapped on her comm, and a message from Rami appeared on her eyepiece.
MEET ME IN MY OFFICE. 10 MINS.
She sighed. Life always seemed to excel at interrupting her moments of happiness.
“You get the message too?” Christian asked.
She met his stare. He looked just as annoyed as she did. “From Rami?”
His brows furrowed. “No, from Hawk. We’re meeting in the war room.”
Gemma frowned. Why hadn’t she been included? Why was Rami pulling her aside?
“Oh, then I guess not,” she said.
Concern pierced Christian’s face, but he got onto his feet and helped Gemma onto hers. “I’m sure it’s just another stupid logistics meeting.”
Without Rami? Doubtful.
“Pause our workout until after, then?” she asked.
Christian stroked her cheek with his thumb. “You bet.”
Gemma returned to the locker room, grabbed her medbag, and then headed for Rami’s office with a pit in her stomach.
Gemma waited just inside the threshold of Rami’s office, her fingers tightening around the strap of her medbag. Her leg bounced involuntarily. Rami finished murmuring something to an analyst dressed in an Earth-green uniform before hurrying to her with a harried smile.
“Sorry,” he said. “Too many fires and not enough hands to put them out. Come in.”
She stepped inside his office, and he sealed the door. Her eyes were already scanning him for any sign that something was off.
