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The bond was gone, severed like a limb. It throbbed in his gut like a wound that would never heal until his dying day.
This was what happened when he slowed down.It got in. It started hurting.Itdestroyedhim. If this was already happening, what the hell was he supposed to do about Grace?
Her mind like a maze. Her body like a code he wanted to crack with hismouth.
He’d done the right thing, not sleeping with her. Keeping it clean. Simple. Focused.
If he claimed her, if he took that final step, it wouldn’t just be sex. It wouldunmakehim.
Sex was easy.Intimacy was an ambush. Slowing down for her, for anyone, meant losing his edge. Losing his edge got people killed.
He clenched his jaw, picked up the pace. His body ached everywhere.His dick throbbed. His lungs burned. All of it was thepull. The pull of her pressed against him in bed, lips soft, breath hot, her skin under his hands, her moan caught between them like something holy.
He wanted toconsumeher.
Fuck her.
Sink into her like an ocean and let her drag him under. Let her feed him oxygen with who she was. The pressure in his gut coiled tighter. But no matter how hard he ran, no matter how fast his feet hit the trail, he couldn’t outrun Grace Harlan.
If he slowed down, if he gave in, he’d overwhelm her. He knew it. If she walked away? He’d never know. Never know if he was the reason his team died. Never know if the guilt that wrapped his ribs like barbed wire wasjustifiedor justpunishmenthe made up to survive the not knowing.
If she left… it would feel like losing the one person who had ever touched his silence with grace and treated it like something worth keeping. Grace wasn’t just a chance. She was the last goddamn line between him and surrender. He had to know. Even if the truthkilledhim.
By the time he hit the hotel room, he was trembling from restraint. His skin burned. His pulse throbbed between his legs, aching for her body, for her mouth on him, for the privilege of being the man she wanted.
He stripped with shaking hands, turning the water all the way to cold. The kind that stole breath and sanity. The kind that should’ve shut his body down, notwoken it up.The water hit him like icy knives. Sharp. Unrelenting. But it didn’t help. Not even a little. His cock stayed hard, brutal and aching andhers.He braced both palms against the tile, forehead lowered, breath coming in short, shuddering bursts.Combat breathing. In for four. Hold. Out for four.Again.
Every drop against his skin was a ghost of her touch. The shampoo bottle was heavy in his grip. His dick ached, hard and unrelenting, pressed against the tile with nowhere to go. He gritted his teeth.
Do not think about her mouth, her hands, how soft she was in your arms, how fucking awkwardly adorable she was, about that agile mind, her innocence, how she viewed the world like it was a code to be decrypted. Absolutely donot thinkabout her humor. That sharp, wicked,goddamn glorioushumor.Hands-on research.A broken sound ripped from his chest, half growl, half groan. God, he loved that.
Not just the line. The way she said it. Like she meant it. Likehewas worth all her precious time. Worth slowing down for. He squeezed his eyes shut. The cold stung. His teeth chattered. But his body didn’t back down. What he felt for Grace…there was no escape from it.
He stood there, shaking fromeverything. For one raw second, Nash Rahim nearly sobbed because if even a goddamn freezing shower couldn’t kill what she made him feel… What was he going to do if he broke, if he fell, if he went under and she found him in the depths. Water was his home base, but Grace was like a water creature who breathed him in and out with no mercy.
He could do it. Could take the edge off. Quick. No emotion. But no release was going to feel like Grace. His release would be biological, but there would be no satisfaction. She’d trusted him with her silence. With her sleep. He grit his jaw so tight it ached, and he denied himself. He refused to come, the promise of pleasure a trick, empty. Refused to lose this edge for anything except Grace.
When he finally shut off the water, he could barely breathe.
Even toweling himself off wasdangerous.
His skin was so sensitized that every brush of cotton dragged heat up his spine, his muscles twitching like he was close to climax just from the friction. He leaned on the sink, both hands braced, head down. A drop of water fell from his chin into the basin.
Breathe.
In his room, he dressed slowly. Gray tactical pants. A black shirt. The same kind he used to wear under his plate carrier. He tried to armor up again. Put pieces back in place. But when he stepped into the suite and saw Grace, her face tilted to the light, that impossible hair down, loose, the barest smile touched her mouth when she saw him. His bodyresponded. Like a strike team activating. He clenched his fists. White-knuckled. If he didn’t, he’d reach for her.
He wasn’t sure he’d be able to let go.
* * *
The engine purredlow beneath them, tires crunching over patches of packed snow as they left the hotel behind. Grace was quiet in the passenger seat, tablet in her lap, fingers scrolling through lines of encrypted code with a determined look on her face.
Nash gripped the wheel like it might slip away from him.
She’d looked at him when she walked into the suite, really looked. No awkwardness. No apology. Just that sharp, knowing gaze that somehow unraveled himwithout ever raising her voice.
The cold from the morning run hadn’t left his skin. It had settled deep in his bones, curling around the hunger still clawing through him. He shouldn’t have kissed her.Shouldn’t have held her.Shouldn’t have allowed her to stay in that room one second longer than necessary.