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“No one,” Davenport said. “I had to leave to make this call, and I sent my associate on a nuisance mission yesterday when it looked like it was coming together. And no, I won’t tell you who it is.” His tone brooked no further questions on that regard. “In the beginning there were a few medical assistants who rotated through, but she dismissed them when she started to get more inventive with ways to test the nanites.”

In other words, other ways to torture Benny.

As she considered Davenport’s plan, it became clear he’d done the right thing by getting all his ducks in a row. Even if Overlander and Hayes decided to come clean, there would be nothing to support their claims.

“So now we get all of our pieces in place,” Devin said. “Then we wait.”

Davenport nodded. “Agreed.”

~

Benny sat at the table for a long moment after they disconnected, pondering what he’d learned, trying to decide how he felt now that the shock of it was over.

“That’s some pretty heavy shit,” Jordan said beside him and squeezed his fingers.

He hadn’t realized it until now, but their fingers had been interlaced since about halfway through the video call. She’d been the bedrock he hadn’t known he needed for those revelations. For seeing the face of the woman who’d imprisoned him and tortured him, literally to death.

He turned to thank her and caught her looking at him without the guarded expression he realized she’d been wearing since his return. It was reminiscent of last night, when she’d told him she didn’t think she could do this with him again. Not if he didn’t remember them.

In that second, he realized he wanted another try with her, regardless of whether his past returned or not. Memories be damned, the man he’d been before was no different than the man he was now. Not deep down. Whatever they’d done to him during those eight months had scarred him, sure. But he felt more and more certain with every passing moment that the core of who he’d been, of who he was, had remained untouched.

The vulnerability on her face began to shift, the walls going back up as she retreated into friend mode. He reached out with his free hand and cupped her cheek.

“Don’t. Please don’t. I…” He stopped, not sure what to say, then gave in to a gut-deep impulse and closed the distance between them, laying his lips on hers.

Her mouth was soft beneath his, and she sucked in a little surprised breath before kissing him back just as gently. Hunger, sharp and sudden, roared through him. The need to explore her, body and soul, was so acute it ached. He wanted to learn her body again, rediscover her inch by inch, take them both under until neither knew where one ended and the other began.

He kissed her with that fierceness, and after a brief hesitation, she matched him, all her reservations seemingly melting away. She tasted of this morning’s coffee and a flavor that was uniquely hers, an echo that scratched at the back of his mind.

“I could kiss you like this for hours,” he rasped.

She hummed her agreement against his lips, and before he dove back in, he yanked her off her chair and onto his lap, pulling a surprised little laugh from her.

He devoured the sound, tunneling his hands into her hair and holding her still as he feasted. She moved above him as she shifted to straddle him, then her hands flashed down the front of his body, ripping open his shirt and sending buttons pinging. The pads of her fingers smoothed against his chest, then slid down, tweaking his nipples and grazing his ribs.

He dropped his hands from her hair and captured her hips, pulling her against him even tighter, then tore his mouth away, breathing hard.

She met his gaze and pulled off her T-shirt. Her bra was a lacy, frilly peach-colored scrap, completely at odds with the Jordan Gonzalez he suspected everyone else knew.

He leaned in and bit one hardened nipple through the lace, drawing a moan from her as she arched back, presenting herself to him. He wrapped one arm around her waist and cupped her other breast, teasing and tormenting until she was panting above him.

“Benito,” she gasped. “No more. I need you inside me.”

Everything about this felt familiar and right and hot as hell.

He stood, lifting them both, and she wrapped her legs around his waist and looped her arms around his neck. Her lips traveled up the cord of his neck as he strode toward the bedroom. He almost came in his pants when she bit his ear.

“Some things never change,” she purred, then did it again.

He swatted her ass in rebuke, toed open the door and deposited her on the bed, following her down and trapping her beneath his weight.

He dove in for another kiss, his hands sliding down the smooth skin of her sides and stomach. When she slipped her hands beneath his shorts and squeezed his ass, he laughed against her mouth. “Jesus, Jordan, the things you do to me.”

Her eyes danced with amusement, and beneath it lay a silky sexuality that made him impossibly harder. Had it always been this way between them?

He levered his body up. “Take off your bra.” He was surprised to hear the snap of an order in his voice.

Her eyes went even darker, and she moved to obey almost against her will. Her breasts, small and tipped with rosy nipples, spilled free, and he leaned forward again, filling his hands with her and feasting.