Page 35

35

Beatrice

I leaned back and looked into his eyes. The want I felt for him was overpowering me and I knew it was him too. Six weeks apart. A brush with death. The kind of fear that sinks into your marrow and makes you question how many tomorrows you’ll get.

As soon as the front door closed behind us, something inside me snapped loose.

We didn’t speak.

We didn’t need to.

His jacket was gone in seconds. My shirt hit the floor a breath later. I backed him up toward the bathroom, kissing him like I was starved for him, which I was. His hands roamed my back, my ribs, my hips like he was mapping my body all over again. Clothes trailed in our wake, piece by piece, until we stood naked under the bright lights of the bathroom, breathing hard, foreheads touching.

Raven turned on the shower, steam curling into the air as he reached for me again, lifting me like I weighed nothing. My back hit the cool tile, his mouth hot against my neck. We moved together under the spray; the heat of the water was nothing compared to the fire burning in us.

I wrapped my legs around him, gasping as he slid into me—slow at first, like he needed to feel every inch of me again. I cried out his name, fingers digging into his back. He kissed me hard, deep, like he couldn’t bear to let go even for a second.

“Mine,” he murmured against my mouth, his voice rough, reverent.

“Always,” I whispered.

We stayed under the spray far too long, grasping, kissing, gasping out promises between tangled limbs and breathless moans. The moment we came together was explosive and tender all at once. I clung to him, lost and found in the same breath.

When the water finally turned lukewarm, he shut it off and wrapped me in a thick towel before lifting me into his arms again.

“From now on, this is your home,” he said with a crooked smile. “You’re mine now. All night. All weekend. For the rest of our lives.”

I didn’t argue.

He carried me to his bed and laid me down like I was precious. And then he made love to me again—slower this time, with kisses between every whispered word, his touch reverent and grounding.

He worshipped me with his hands, his mouth, his body. And I let him. I gave him every inch of me.

I had never felt so completely seen… so completely his.

* * *

The sun poured through the windows the next morning, warming the sheets. Raven’s arm was draped around my waist, his hand splayed across my stomach. I was tucked against him, one of his legs tangled with mine, his breathing steady and deep.

For a minute, I lay there, soaking in how he smelled—like cedar and skin and something purely him. His face was relaxed in sleep, and the hard lines around his mouth softened. It was rare to see him like this—vulnerable, peaceful.

I could get used to waking up like this.

Eventually, he stirred and kissed my neck. “Mornin’, sweetheart.”

I smiled sleepily. “Morning.”

He shifted to press a kiss to my shoulder. “Don’t move. You’re my personal heater.”

“We should eat.”

“Later,” he mumbled into my skin, pulling me closer. “We have time.”

And for once… we did.

* * *

Two hours later—dressed, showered again (with slightly more restraint), and sipping coffee—I followed Raven into the Golden Team’s ops room. Tag, Gage, Cyclone, and Faron were gathered around the table. The mood was sharp, focused. I walked back to the offices to visit Kat in her office, but I could still hear them talking.

River appeared on the big screen in front of them via video call, his tone clipped. I remember hearing that he was out of the country, and Kat said he had better hurry and get back home. “New intel just came through. There’s a situation in South Africa. There's a human trafficking cell, heavily armed. The local government has eyes on it but needs outside assistance.”

“South Africa?” Faron leaned forward. “What’s the risk level?”

“High. These guys are ex-mercenaries. You will go in dressed and loaded for combat. But you won’t be going in for combat, you are going in for a rescue.”

Cyclone nodded.

Raven glanced at Cyclone, then turned back to the team. “I’ll sit this one out. I just got back, and River already signed off on my downtime,” Raven said.

River nodded. “That’s right. Cyclone, Faron—you’re up. The thing is, there are three Nuns you need to rescue. You leave in eight hours. Tag and Gage, you’re on standby.”

Cyclone groaned. “Nuns.” He shook his head like he was asked to find the deadliest snakes you could find.

Faron gave a lazy grin. “Finally get to stretch my legs.”

Cyclone just nodded, always the calm one before the storm.

The moment the call ended, Raven pushed away from the table and caught my eye. “I meant it, you know. I’m not going anywhere for a while. You and me—we’ve got some catching up to do.”

I smiled and crossed to him, sliding my arms around his waist. “So what now?”

His hand brushed the small of my back. “Now I take you out to eat. Then we come back, lock the door, and I spend the rest of the day making up for lost time.”

Mandy barked softly from her spot near the door, tail thumping in approval. Mike didn’t bother opening an eye.

I laughed. “You better make it good, tough guy. I’ve been patient.”

“Oh, I plan to, sweetheart.” He leaned down, brushing his lips over mine. “Every second of it.”

And just like that, I knew we were finally starting our forever.

* * *

Beatrice

By the time we finished the lunch that we cooked together, Raven had that look in his eyes again. The kind that made my whole body come alive. But instead of dragging me straight back to the bedroom, he grinned, took my hand, and said, “You’ve never swum in the ocean with me, have you?”

“Not yet,” I said, raising an eyebrow. “But you’re already looking at me like you’re planning to peel off every stitch of my clothing once I do.”

He smirked and kissed my hand. “That’s because I am.”

* * *

The water was colder than I expected. Salty waves nipped at my ankles as I walked in, Raven just behind me, tossing his shirt to the sand. He was already soaked from diving in once to show off, and now he was grinning at me like he had a plan.

“Come on in, sweetheart. It’s not that bad.”

I squealed as a wave splashed up my thighs. “Liar! It’s freezing!”

“Then I guess I’ll have to warm you up.” He lunged toward me, splashing and scooping me into his arms before I could run. I shrieked and laughed, kicking playfully as he carried me deeper.

“Raven!” I gasped as he dipped me under and then pulled me close, wrapping his arms around my waist. The water lapped at our shoulders, and we bobbed with the waves.

“You know what I thought about every night while I was gone?” he asked, brushing a wet strand of hair from my face.

“Other than how amazing I look in my firefighting uniform?”

He chuckled, tightening his grip. “This. Holding you. Hearing you laugh. That little wrinkle you get when you’re annoyed.”

“I do not wrinkle,” I protested, swatting his chest.

He caught my hand and kissed it. “You do. And it’s adorable. So are your little snores.”

I gasped. “You better not be mocking my sleep noises. You snore like a freight train.”

We laughed until we were breathless, water sparkling around us. But then everything stilled. His eyes locked on mine. The mood shifted.

Heat surged through me. That hunger returned like a crashing wave—sharp, sudden, undeniable.

His hands slid down to my hips, and he pulled me flush against him. “I need you,” he whispered, voice low and thick.

The way he said it made my knees weak.

I leaned in, lips brushing his. “Then take me home.”

* * *

We didn’t make it to the bedroom.

The hallway wall became our anchor. Raven had my top off in seconds. I yanked his swimming trunks halfway down before he spun us and lifted me into his arms, pinning me gently against the cool drywall. I wrapped my legs around him, completely naked, my breath was stolen by the intensity in his eyes.

He was everywhere—his mouth on my neck, his hands at my thighs, his body pressed against me.

“God, I can’t stop touching you,” he groaned.

“Then don’t.”

It was frantic and messy and perfect . We moved together like we were chasing something only we could find in each other. He kissed me like he needed me to breathe. I clung to him like he was the only solid thing in the world. We reached the peak together—loud, unrestrained, wild.

Afterward, we slid to the floor in a sweaty heap, laughing between kisses.

“I think we broke your wall,” I mumbled, tracing a finger over his chest.

“It was worth it.”

It didn’t stop there.

The kitchen. The couch. Even the damn laundry room.

Every time our eyes met, that spark ignited again. He’d pull me close. I’d slip my hands beneath his shirt. Clothes disappeared, inhibitions forgotten.

We swam again later, just as the sun started to sink. He lifted me in the waves and made love to me with the ocean roaring behind us and stars beginning to pierce the sky. We were out so far that no one could see us.

It was primal. Beautiful. Completely unrestrained.

And when we finally collapsed in our bed that night, tangled in sheets and each other, I looked at him and said, “This doesn’t feel real.”

He brushed his knuckles over my cheek. “It’s real. You’re mine, and I’m not letting you go.”

I fell asleep with his heartbeat under my ear, his hand on my hip, and a warmth inside me that had nothing to do with the blanket.

It wasn’t just desire anymore.

It was home.