After capturing images of the supplies in the cache and sending them to Ahna, the team retreated to a vantage point further up the tunnel. Higher ground and tucked behind a partial support wall provided a full view of the cache site and both tunnel forks. They shut off their ultralights, and Imara put Karma to sleep, leaving the green glow of the relay to pulse faintly in the dark.
Christian knelt beside his friends, his back straight despite the ache settling into his shoulders. He scanned the area again with his scope then lowered it. Still clear. Still quiet.
“Any word from Ahna?” Hawk whispered.
“Not yet,” Imara answered. “I sent her the images, and she acknowledged. They’re probably still playing around with my stash locker.” She leaned back against the curved wall, planted one foot, and stretched out her prosthetic in front of her. “She better send a team, though, to collect everything, ’cause I’m not hauling explosives through an unstable tunnel on foot. Even I have limits.”
“You’re admitting to limits?” Hawk asked, mock surprised.
Imara grinned without looking at him. “Just being realistic. I know you struggle with the concept.”
Christian shook his head but couldn’t keep the small smile off his face. Their banter definitely helped keep the quiet from turning into tension, but his mind was already drifting. If the Dissent did show up, they’d have the advantage for maybe thirty seconds. After that, it would be close-quarters chaos.
A soft chime via his biochip made him tense, but it wasn’t from Ahna. The eyepiece over his cornea showed an incomingcall from Gemma. Even down here their comms managed to connect, despite their distance. Impressive.
Tension bled from his shoulders as he stood and stepped just far enough from the others for privacy.
He tapped his comm and spoke as quietly as possible. “Hey, you.”
“Hi. You okay? You sound weird.” Her voice was warm, low, and concerned.
His mouth curved. “I’m on a stakeout.”
“Well, that sounds boring. Though, I’d give anything for boring right about now.”
His grin fell. “What happened?”
“Nothing. It’s just . . . a lot to take in. But I’m fine.”
Something deep in his gut told him she wasn’t. But before he could ask, her words shot a wave of heat to his groin.
“Now,” she said, her tone now deep and sultry, “I believe you promised me something. Remember?”
He turned his back to the others, bracing one hand against the tunnel wall. “I’m not exactly somewhere private.”
“Then don’t be loud.”
He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. Any lingering thoughts about the cache, the mission, and the blinking black box all drifted just out of focus.
“Tell me what you’d do to me if you were here,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Christian closed his eyes for a second and let his forehead rest against the cool tunnel wall. His heart thumped wildly in his chest.
“I’d start slow,” he said. “Real slow. Draw you close until your body pressed against mine. Drown in the heat of your skin, your smell.”
A quiet inhale sounded through the comm.
“I’d kiss that spot on your neck,” he continued, his voice low and deliberate. “The one that makes you shiver when I get it just right.”
Gemma made a soft sound, somewhere between a sigh and a moan. His trousers tightened.
“And then?”
“Then I’d press you into the mattress and take my time. Use my hands, my mouth—everything I know you like.” His voice dropped even more. “I’d talk to you the whole time too. Just like this. Tell you exactly how good you taste. How much I love making you come.”
She exhaled hard. “Christian . . .”
He smiled, fighting the urge to palm his cock through his trousers. “Yeah?”
