Page 48 of Cavern of Silence

"When I was sixteen, I went to Dublin for a vacation. We went our separate ways after that. Then, when I was traveling with the Marines, I ran into her outside a cafe in Italy. I was on a two-week break and decided to backpack around Europe."

She smiles. "Fate wanted you together."

"I guess."

"So, where do you live now?"

"Our home was in Dublin. Since I was gone so much and with Maureen's cancer, it made sense for her to be near her family."

"You said was. Are you not in Dublin anymore?"

My stomach flips. "I sold the house. I'm not sure where to go, to be honest."

After she passed, it was too hard to walk through the door.

"So where have you been staying?"

"All over. The guys all have places spread throughout Europe, so I've done a lot of traveling between missions."

Sympathy fills her face.

"Pathetic, I know."

She shakes her head. "That wasn't what I was thinking."

"Then what were you thinking?"

She smiles. "Your wife was a lucky lady to have you."

I turn and blink hard. Getting emotional over my deceased wife isn't something I want to do in front of anyone but especially with Julieta while she's in my arms, naked.

And I thought I had shed all my tears, but that's the thing about grief. It hits you when you least expect it, and always at times you don't want it to show up.

Julieta leans over, kisses my tear, and when I turn toward her, she puts her sweet lips on mine. It's meant to be a kind gesture, but something about her won't allow me to have little bits and pieces. I need all of her. Our union opened Pandora's box and created an addiction in my soul. And any morsel she's willing to give me, I'll greedily take.

I loved Maureen. Nothing will ever change that. But I missed the uniqueness of a female that makes her different from all others out there.

And nothing is better than the flesh of a woman. Maybe it's because I've been out of the game for so long, but everything about Julieta's drives me crazy. The softness. The scent. The way it warms and pulses with blood flowing through it.

Touching her is enough to rile me up, but the way she grips me or trails her fingers on my body creates life in me, when I assumed that part of me was dead.

And I don't remember kisses ever being so intoxicating. So, I roll on top of her, with an urgent desire to claim and worship her.

She's so beautiful, and I want to kill Jonas for touching her, but nothing anyone can do will ever steal her magnificence.

I dote on all of her, trailing my tongue on her cleavage, scraping my teeth on the curve of her waist, feasting on her pink paradise.

I could listen to her moans and whimpers all day. The taste and scent of her pleasure only make me harder. When she quivers on my face, a concoction of testosterone and adrenaline spikes in my body, proving that I'm still a man.

But I'm a man who needs her.

I slide up her body and shove her ankles to her ass. I push one of her legs up in the air then enter her.

"Wrap your legs around me, baby."

She's still trembling but does it, and I crouch over her, sliding my hands under her body. I wrap my body around all of her—flesh and bones and pulsing muscle. It's the only thing I can give her.

She holds my face. Our breaths merge and eyes lock.