Page 21 of Jump or Fall

Mara

S he scanned the area where she had last seen Gordon, her pulse pounding. A gaping hole marred the street, surrounded by smoldering rubble. He was nowhere in sight. The rain had picked up, blurring her vision and hissing against the scattered debris.

“Gordon!” Mara called out, desperate.

Nothing.

“Silva!”

“I’m here,” Silva replied, “but I don’t see him anywhere.”

She wove through the wreckage, kicking aside rubble. Her augmented strength made clearing the path effortless.

An alarm started blaring—just like the one from the first attack.

Kimmie said, “You need to leave. He’ll be okay.”

No. She wasn’t leaving without him. Her chest felt like it was about to cave in.

“I’m not leaving.” Her voice cracked.

A groan came from the left. Her eyes locked in on the sound. All she could see was a cracked enforcer helmet—Gordon’s helmet. The rest of him was pinned underneath a car door that had been blown off. His suit wasn’t working.

Mara flung the door off of him and hauled him upright. He teetered for a second before grabbing her arm .

They ran as fast as they could down the street. She had no idea where they were going—but it needed to be far.

“Found him! We're out!”

The rain poured harder, collecting in shallow pools along the street. As they turned down another path, a flash of lightning lit up the world around them, momentarily making it feel like broad daylight.

The alleys narrowed and gaps formed in the deluge above them. She glanced up and found pathways crisscrossing overhead.

They were in Eight.

Gordon led her up a set of stairwells, some covered and some not. A steady stream of water flowed down them as they climbed higher.

At last, they reached a door. He frantically unlocked it and stumbled inside. The room was small and dimly lit by two windows.

Gordon yanked off his broken helmet and gauntlets, letting them drop to the floor. Bracing his hands on his knees, he gasped for breath. The loss of augmented strength meant he’d been running with the full weight of his suit.

Mara removed her helmet and took his in her hand, tracing her finger along the crack. Her breath caught, and the dam in her chest burst wide open.

Moisture dripped down her face. She searched the ceiling, thinking it was leaking—but it was coming from her.

She threw her gauntlets to the floor and wiped her stinging eyes.

“I thought I lost you,” she whispered.

When she looked up, he was staring at her.

He took a small step closer. The only sound was rain drumming against the roof.

She didn’t move away.

Please come closer.

He rushed her—his lips crashing against hers in a rough, desperate kiss. He cupped her face, kissing all over before returning to her mouth in an erratic circuit .

Her chest swelled with relief, and the tears kept coming.

She placed her hands over his and gently pulled them away, observing his fingertips. They were so perfect—so smooth, so human .

Kissing the tips, she watched the unscarred corner of his mouth curve up before he pulled her into a firm embrace.

She moved to unclip his armor. “I need to feel you against me.”

Gordon took over, stripping off his suit while she shed her own. The armor pieces hit the floor with heavy thuds.

She sighed in relief as she shed the layers, left only in her tank top and thin sweatpants. Gordon tenderly grasped her shoulders, drawing her into another kiss. His lips were so soft and warm.

His hand moved to the small of her back and slid under her shirt, making her whole body go stiff.

He pulled away instantly, his cheeks darkening in the low light.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Don’t be,” she reassured him. “I’m just a little nervous.”

Gordon rested his forehead against hers. “Nothing has to happen. We can just lie down together, if you want. Being close to you is enough.”

“I’d love that,” she said softly.

He guided her to the single bed. The walls were blank and the only other furniture was a desk, a chair, and a dresser. A small kitchen was off to the right and a door to the bathroom.

“Is this where you live?”

“This is the place I rent from the old bat across the way.”

It suddenly felt even more intimate to be here. His space.

They lay face to face, wrapped in each other’s arms. With her cheek against his chest, she breathed him in, memorizing every note—smoke, armor, gunpowder, and beneath it all, the unmistakable scent of him.

No cologne.

The warmth of his body surrounded her, stirring something deep. A slow, aching need unfurled, growing stronger with every passing second. She wanted more—needed more .

Mara lifted her head to kiss his chin, then up to his scarred cheek. Her lips traced the scar across his face up to his ear.

Gordon watched, unmoving, until their mouths met again.

His movements mirrored hers, never touching any part of her she hadn’t touched first.

Guilt nagged at her. Why did she have to shy away when he touched her back?

She reached down and caressed the hard length straining against his clothes. His sharp inhale sent a thrill coursing through her veins. With each slow stroke, she knew she’d never dread pleasing him. He could have her any time he wanted.

When he still hadn’t made a move to touch her, she took his hand and guided it between her legs. Even through the fabric, the sensation was overwhelming—this was real. Gordon was actually touching her.

He toyed with her waistband. “Do you want this?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

His lips grazed her cheek as his hand slipped beneath the barrier. Mara exhaled sharply as his fingers slid over her delicate skin, settling into a steady circular rhythm.

Flesh against flesh. It was almost foreign.

Rain tapped against the roof. It was so rhythmic.

Count the drips.

One. Two. Three.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Could she count them all?

No.

She shouldn’t waste time on raindrops.

The suit needed to be fixed, but she had no joiner, so it would be more difficult to repair. The smell of the joiner at work took over her mind. Every button and setting.

How many helmets were left on the wall display when she left?

Four .

There was a sensation against her face—soft and familiar.

“Come back to me, Mara.”

She blinked, trying to reconnect. Her feet were in place, as were her hands. She wiggled her toes and fingers first then worked on her arms and legs.

The touch on her face was Gordon, rubbing the tip of his nose against her cheek.

“We don’t have to do this now. Or anytime soon,” he said, worry deepening the faint lines around his eyes.

“Please don’t stop. I’m just… I don’t know. Not used to being in my body. I want this so badly. I want you .”

Her body had betrayed her. Why couldn’t it tell the difference between the one she wanted and the one she hated? The thought made her stomach knot with frustration. Gordon hadn’t done anything to hurt her, yet her mind still managed to wander away.

Was it because Dawson had visited that morning? Would this always happen?

No. She couldn’t let it—couldn’t let that monster steal everything.

Gordon pressed his forehead to hers. “Would it help if I talked to you?”

She paused, considering. “I think so.”

His voice had brought her back. The low vibration of his chest as he said her name had sounded heavenly.

He reached down again, his thumb tracing her hip through the fabric, massaging gently.

She focused on him—his voice, his touch, the taste of his kiss. This time, her mind would stay whole. It had to.

Dawson didn’t own her.

Working her with his strong hand, he moved down to the outside of her thigh before teasing inward. “You’re always safe with me.”

“I know.”

She parted her legs, hoping he would explore further .

Taking her hint, he moved toward her inner thigh, kneading her flesh. It was such an unusual sensation but felt so good, sending waves of heat through her core.

Her breath caught as he slowly progressed up and began massaging around her entrance, his eyes never leaving her for a moment.

“Do you like this?”

“Yes.” Her body was aching for more. The separation of clothing was almost unbearable now as her underwear grew uncomfortably damp.

A jolt of pleasure burned through her as he slid his thumb up and pressed it against her clit.

“I need this off,” she said abruptly.

Her heart raced as she peeled off her pants and underwear in one move. No one else had seen her like this in ten years.

Now your shirt. It’ll be okay. He would never hurt you.

With a shaky breath, she removed her tank top. Her hands trembled as she tossed it aside.

There was no gasp of disgust even though every scar was on full display—including Dawson’s marks on her hips. The ones that held so much more pain than the stripes because they meant she was a possession.

But Gordon wasn’t looking at her like that. Instead, his eyes took in every inch of her with a heated reverence.

She settled back into her spot, still waiting for him to change his mind.

Gordon lightly ran his hand over her breast and then down her waist. The pads of his fingertips moved over one of the scars.

“Do they bother you?” she whispered, as he followed one.

“Does my scar bother you?”

“No,” she said firmly. “I just want to hurt the person who did it.”

“That’s how I feel about these.” He stroked her hip with his thumb. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Mara.”

Her heart swelled. “And you’re the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. ”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “Somehow, I believe you’re being sincere right now.”

“I am,” she insisted. “Any time I can get a peek at that smile you hide… it’s like winning a prize.”

“You’re very sweet.” He kissed her, long and deep. The heat of their mouths together only made the ache in her core grow.

His fingers slid between her legs and she let out a low groan into his mouth.

Ignore the rain. Focus on him.

He took up that circular rhythm again. How was he so good at this?

Gordon slipped a finger inside her and whispered against her lips, “I want to feel you come on my fingers.”