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“Part your legs for me,” he said, his voice raw and rough.

She moaned. And did as he’d asked.

He added a dollop of lotion to his palm.

Cupped her.

Opened her.

Stroked her clitoris and felt her wet heat against his palm.

She fell back against him.

Tanner bent his head, kissed the side of her neck, bit the flesh there and she cried out, her body arching against his.

He turned her toward him. Captured her mouth with his as he ran his hands over her shoulders, her arms, her breasts.

“Tanner.” His name was a broken whisper on her lips. “Tanner,” she said again, and he slanted his mouth hungrily over hers, his tongue sliding against hers as he cupped her breasts and feathered his thumbs over her erect nipples.

“Tell me,” he said fiercely. “Tell me what you want.”

She reached between them, curved her hand around his thick length.

“You,” she sobbed, “you inside me, inside me, inside—”

She wrapped a leg around his and he lifted her, penetrated her, drove into her again and again until she cried out and lost herself in ecstasy.

He caught her to him, drove deep one last time and then he groaned her name and let go of everything, all he was, all he’d ever been, and shot over the edge of the universe with Alessandra in his arms.

* * *

After, they stood under the spray, he holding her close against him, she with her arms wound around his neck.

Minutes went by. Then he drew back just far enough so he could see her face when he lifted it to him.

“Are you okay?”

She sighed.

“I am very okay, Lieutenant.”

He grinned and scooped her wet hair behind her ears.

“Because if you’re not, if we have to do this again just to be sure you’re good with it, I’m ready to make the sacrifice.”

“Really.”

“Really.” He nuzzled her throat. “I mean, a man’s got to do what a man’s got to do.”

“Mmm. That’s a motto to live by.” She drew back a little and stroked her hands over his chest. “What are these?”

“Scars.” He caught her hands in his and kissed them.

“From what?”

He shrugged. “Just, you know, scars.”

Okay. He didn’t want to talk about them. The scars seemed unusual, almost as if someone had made two small, straight slits in his pectorals.