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With a soft smile, he reached out and fingered the blue shirt she was wearing, Navy in big gold letters emblazoned across her chest, the cotton soft against her skin. “Is this mine?”

She smirked. “It’s mine now.”

His brows lifted, a gleam appearing in the depths of those spice-colored eyes. “Is that so?” he asked, a challenge in his words, and the previous mission tension was replaced by something just as taut but oh-so-deliciously sensual.

“What are you going to do about it?” she said, lifting her chin with her own challenge, facing that high-voltage stare and a hard-muscled body vibrating with sweet male aggression.

“You like to live dangerously, don’t you, my reckless, little Hummingbird?”

She grinned, uncurling her legs, shoving deeper into his personal space, by sliding around him to ease her suddenly aching breasts against that powerful back and curl her calves over his thighs, intimately fitting her sex against that taut backside. She was wearing nothing but a wisp of lace against her now hot, slick core.

“Right on the edge,” she said, reinforcing that dare by slipping her arms through his, and clawing down his wide chest, over his tightening nipples, those mouthwatering ridged abs to the waistband of those sinful shorts. He shuddered, jolting when her nails ran over his nipples and groaned helplessly as she got closer to the heat of his erection.

She pressed her lips against the nape of his neck, ravishing him, overwhelming her thoughts, arousing her body, and creating a heavy, tingling sensation right where she pressed her lower body against him. His skin was so soft, like velvet over steel, the indentation of his spine flexing beneath her lips as he dropped his head forward. She moved her face into his fresh smelling hair, the tips still damp, the mass of it so silky as she inhaled the underlying masculine scent of him.

“You are so freaking beautiful,” she murmured against his skin. “Inside and out. I want you continuously.” Her heart split open, she couldn’t stop herself, the fear she had experienced seemed as ghostly as she strived to be in the field, now distant and far away. There was only Cooper in her arms, beneath her hands, and she wanted to kiss and taste every inch of him.

She was unraveling from the inside out, seduced by his honesty, his courage, and his strength. Her hands moved over him, reveling in the tactile feel of his skin beneath her palms, giving into the need to caress him, make him crazy with the same passion she’d always thought was pure fantasy. Her breathing accelerated as his hips thrust uncontrollably, then his butt surged against her core, and she cried out, the heady knowledge of holding such a lethal weapon in her arms sending her heart beating off the charts.

His thick lashes drifted open, and his darkened, dazed gaze locked with hers filled with a deep, aching desire as he panted, his chest heaving. “Walker,” he said hoarsely, his voice saturated with pleasure.

She clasped his shoulder and pushed him back until his mouth was where she needed it to be. When her lips took him, his low urgent growl sent shivers over her skin, his response intensifying her desire. He buried his fingers in her hair and dragged her into his lap until her back was against the lower part of his hard, undeniably aroused body. With his lips still devouring her mouth with aggressive, utterly devastating kisses, he shoved the hem of his Navy T-shirt up impatiently, baring her naked breasts to the cool air. She shivered and moaned as his big, warm hand closed over her breast, rubbing and massaging each mound, then rolling her hard, sensitive nipples between his fingers.

He broke the kiss, lowered his head and closed his mouth over her taut, aching breast. He laved her nipple with his tongue before sucking her deep into his searing, greedy mouth. Her skin tingled everywhere, hot and alive with sensation.

He shifted on the bed, one arm around her upper back, the other slipping under her legs, and with a powerful thrust of his thighs, he lifted her, swinging her around and onto her back against the mattress.

He stood there, his chest heaving, his eyes raking over her with such a deep need, her body clenched with the desire to give him anything, everything he needed.

With a quick, ruthless movement, he stripped off his shorts and briefs, freeing his full, thick erection. Surging up off the bed, she pulled him down until he was flat on his back. Leaning forward, she captured one of his rigid nipples between her lips, laving the erect nub with her tongue and grazing the tip with the edge of her teeth. She felt him coil to make his own move, but she wasn’t quite done with him. She reached down and wrapped her fingers around the hard, velvet-textured length of him and felt him pulse in her tight grip. She rubbed her thumb over the silky moisture on the big, plum-shaped head of his cock. With a strangled cry his hips jerked, and he panted, groaning in his chest, his big body strung tight and at her mercy.

She moaned at his reaction, her pulse tripping all over itself, the delicious heat of his body beneath her mouth, in her hands instigating a hungry ache through her veins. Her sex felt swollen and achy. She had no doubt that Skull would give all of himself in return, and she would eventually be satisfied. She could handle the exquisite ache until she had what she wanted. This was all about having her way with him like she wanted to in the shower, but now everything was even more heightened, her heart was fully engaged whether she liked it or not. She’d been through danger with him, witnessed his protective instincts, and his combat skills. All of it turned her on. They had made love, but it was too quick. Now, in this lull, was the time to experience, to take, to have and to hold.

She moved across his abs, licking and kissing him, going lower still to her pumping hand where she took him into her wet mouth, his skin as hot and salty as she remembered. He shuddered and tangled his hand in her hair, and she sucked him, taking him deep, pleasuring him with her mouth, teasing him with her tongue, and with him full and throbbing, she fondled the heavy sack. He thrust his hips gently, his face contorting in pleasure as he hissed in a moaning breath.

He twisted his hips, rising up in a lightning quick move, pulling her up his body, rolling until she was on her back, the light in his eyes possessive and bright with his desire as he dragged her panties off, nearly ripping them in his haste to get her naked. Then he was between her legs, pushing her legs wide apart, and his dark head dipped down. The feel of his hot, damp mouth burned her aching, pulsing core in a sensual heat that took her breath away.

She moaned as he licked her in a hot, searing stroke, closing his warm, wet mouth over her as she cried out. The pleasure was sharp and riveting and stole her breath. A low throbbing began in her belly, then spiraled down to her sex, and she grabbed handfuls of his hair wanting more, needing more…

The sleek, gliding pressure of his soft mouth and wicked tongue stroking her rhythmically working her over with seductive magic, the most erotic sensation she’d ever had. Unable to hold back, she let out a cry and arched sinuously against his mouth as she came in a burning wave that shook her entire body.

Without giving her a chance to fully recover from her orgasm, he moved up and over her, the slide of his muscled body against hers making her pulse leap higher and faster. She reached down to touch him, and when her fingers fluttered over the broad, velvet head of his erection, he sucked in another hissing breath. Grasping both her wrists, he pulled her arms over her head and pinned them, taking control of the whole situation.

He settled more fully on top of her, his thighs forcing hers farther apart, and then he was pressing his shaft intimately against her, nudging his way in, stretching her, setting her body on fire. She caught a glimpse of his dark, fierce expression before he crushed his mouth to hers and kissed her deeply, passionately.

Their moans mingled and he thrusted deeper, heavier, possessing and claiming her in a sweet, hard, primitive way. He lowered his head and kissed her, the soft sensual glide of his tongue matching the rhythm of his deep thrusts. She felt the change in him as his pace quickened, his breathing grew ragged, and he pumped harder, faster, toward his own completion. She dug her fingers into the rippling muscles of his damp back, arched high and hard into every thrust, and felt him stiffen as his climax peaked. He dragged his lips from hers, surged into her one final time, and on a ragged, primal growl he spilled himself into her.

Breathing hard, he buried his face against her throat, and she threaded her fingers through his hair, cradling him against her. A few minutes passed before he finally lifted his head from the curve of her neck. In the dim light, his features were shadowed with something that made her heart contract. And at that moment she felt incredibly exposed and vulnerable because she was helpless to return that look.

Her emotional defenses automatically kicked in, and she instead turned the moment into a light-hearted one. “Wow, what lengths you won’t go to get back your T-shirt.”

He flashed her a grin, and he looked so damn adorable. And so incredibly sexy.

“Hey, I can be smug right about now,” he shot back as their cells chimed in unison.

That was the signal that the lull was over and they were being called back hopefully to a green-lit op. Her chest tight with emotions swirling around her contracting heart, she pulled him down for one last, lingering kiss before they were back in the fight.

Skull sat at the long table in the dimly lit conference room, the overhead fluorescents humming faintly against the hush. The large screen on the wall at the head of the table displayed the live feed. Commander Bartholomew’s stern voice filled the room, demanding everyone’s attention.

“The brass and the Justice Department have given final approval,” he announced, his gravelly tone echoing off the walls. Relief washed over the team, the green light they had been waiting for. But the commander’s face remained grim. “With that approval, the burden falls squarely on both the CIA and our SEALs. Iceman,” the commander nodded to their master chief, “you’ve been entrusted to spearhead this. Anna’s mission planning will be critical to keep all of you under the radar. Keep it tight, clean, and off the books.”

Skull straightened in his chair, feeling the weight of the words. Across from him, Iceman gave a curt nod, his jaw set in a hard line. He knew exactly what that meant. Success was mandatory, failure was not an option. He would ensure the mission’s silence and precision.

“But there’s a complication,” the commander continued, looking warily at the group. “The Justice Department has decided not to release Pincho’s husband.”

A collective murmur of anger rippled across the conference room. Hazard’s teammates exchanged glances, muttering under their breath. It was clear that every one of Skull’s brothers found the news intolerable. Releasing Pincho’s husband had been a key demand, and without it, everything got more complicated.

Iceman shot them a glare, his pale blue eyes narrowing with cold authority. The room fell silent, though Skull could feel the tension thrumming in the background. Nobody liked this.

“The DOJ claims letting him go sets a bad precedent, makes us look weak,” the commander explained. “We’re not going to get anywhere with that. So, you’re going to have to do this the hard way. Blade won’t talk unless his wife and children are safe. That’s the deal. And without that intel, we don’t have a shot at rescuing those hostages.”

He paused, letting the gravity of the mission sink in. Then he cleared his throat and looked to the right of the camera, presumably checking his notes. “Hummingbird, Skull, and the dog—Bones, is it?—have been tagged to go in under the radar, keeping it tight. Extract the wife and kids. The rest of you stay on standby at the LZ to provide QRF if things go sideways.”

Skull nodded, his mind already turning to the logistics. “We’ll insert at a vulnerable point,” he said, speaking as if to fill in the blanks for the rest of the team. “We’ll move fast and quiet to keep a low profile, and Bones will help with both detection and security. Once we’ve got them, we head straight for the extraction point.”

“Roger that,” the commander said. “Iceman, you’ll have your team in position to move in if we lose contact. Timing’s going to be critical. Once we have Blade’s family secured, he needs to talk. Or we lose our window to save those hostages.”

A tightness settled across the group, a sense of determination tempered by resentment at the bureaucratic interference. Skull stole a glance at the guys, noting each of them looked ready to tear something apart, but they kept their cool under Iceman’s silent command. Outside, the distant hum of a passing aircraft seemed to remind everyone how close they were to real-world consequences.

Commander Bartholomew gave a curt, final nod through the screen. “Make no mistake. If something goes wrong, this whole operation doesn’t exist, and you’ll be out there on your own. Iceman, Anna, bring them all home safe. Understood?”

A chorus of yes-sirs filled the conference room. With that, the screen went dark, and the team was left in the low hum of the overhead lights, each of them bracing for the mission ahead.

Skull stood at the edge of Lealtad, eyes scanning the dark horizon where the shantytown’s flickering lights glimmered like embers in a dying fire. Despite the tension tracing every rigid line of his posture, he held himself in check. Strekoza had done her job and done it well. She’d kept Blade’s presence alive in Lealtad until they’d gotten their approval.

He scoffed softly. Blade’s captors would be his family’s saviors.

The rest of the team waited on the outskirts, ready to whisk Blade’s family away, Walker believing that a full-scale operation would attract too much attention.

Skull agreed with her regarding the stealth approach. Charging into the heart of town with a large force would only raise the alarm and risk innocent lives. It chafed against his own instincts, his strong nature urged him to fight head-on, to dominate the enemy. Yet experience had taught him restraint. Skill over sheer force. That was Walker’s way, too, meticulous, quiet, and methodical, in line with her Shadowguard tendencies. She preferred to rely on research and observation, always one step removed, always guarding herself.

Skull felt the press of conflicting emotions. He was deeply drawn to Walker, and had been for months, though he struggled to decipher the subtle walls she built between them until they had lost it twice.

He sensed there was more going on with her than she was willing to admit. Her thoughtful, sometimes detached style intrigued him, but it also left him feeling uncertain. He wanted to tell her how he felt, that amid all this chaos, she was the calm in his storm. But a gentle fear nestled in the back of his mind. If he tried to break through her reserve too forcefully, would he push her even further away?

Adjusting the strap on his vest, Skull risked a quick glance at Bones. The Belgian Malinois waited patiently at his side, ears alert, muzzle lifting to test the air. The dog was more than a partner. He was a reminder of why Skull kept fighting. Honor, responsibility, loyalty. Bones, like the best of SEALs, would follow Skull anywhere without question.

But loyalty had another face. Family. Skull’s father was in a hospital bed back home, doctors uncertain if he would recover. The phone call from his mom weighed heavily on Skull’s heart. His father’s condition was deteriorating. Duty had always come first, but with every passing moment, he wondered if he’d made a mistake. What if he never got the chance to see his father alive again? The burden tore at him, a constant tug-of-war between a son’s responsibility to his family and a SEAL’s responsibility to the mission.

He clenched his jaw, pushing aside the wave of dread. If he could pull off this covert run, slip into the shantytown with Walker, retrieve Blade’s family, and slip out, Blade would give them the intel they needed to save Hazard and Leigh. Then Skull could race back home to his father’s bedside. That was the plan. He was determined to make it work.

Walker’s quiet footsteps approached. She placed a hand on Skull’s shoulder, her face partially illuminated by the silvery glow of the moon. In her eyes, he saw the same steely resolve he felt in his bones, the same tension that hummed beneath his skin. “Ready?” she asked, voice laced with a mixture of caution and confidence.

Skull nodded. “We keep it tight,” he said, voice low. “In and out, no alarms, no heavy firefights if we can help it. We bring Blade’s family back safe, then we bring our people home.”

He caught Walker’s nod, a quick flash of admiration in her gaze. She understood the stakes. She always did, and her recent actions told him that she was deeply committed. Thanks to her, they had a plan and a good chance of succeeding. Her calm acceptance reassured him even though he wanted to do what SEALs did best…assault. Instead, he forced himself to focus on the plan. Because deep down, Skull wanted more than just a successful mission. He wanted a future with Walker and a chance to see his father again.

They would make it work. They had to.

Ten minutes later, Skull crouched in the narrow alley, scanning the cramped structures stacked haphazardly along the shantytown’s winding paths. In the distance, a lone streetlamp flickered, casting jagged shadows that danced along corrugated steel walls. Walker’s expression was focused yet subdued. She carried herself with a composed calm, verifying the approach to Blade’s makeshift residence. Bones stayed alert by his leg, ears flicking at each distant noise.

They had slipped past the crude perimeter guards with only a hushed scuffle, nothing to raise the alarm. Now the real test loomed. They had to convince Blade’s wife to abandon everything she knew. Skull’s gut twisted. All the training and experience in the world couldn’t make this conversation any easier. He was a man who charged into conflict without flinching, but dealing with frightened civilians required him to speak in careful tones and weigh each word.

They pushed forward, slipping up to the threshold, his gaze taking in all their surroundings for any hint of danger. A dark wooden door scraped open under Skull’s hand, revealing a cramped living space lit only by a flickering lantern. Blade’s wife was there, clutching her two young children close. Their eyes were wide with fear, darting between Skull’s imposing frame, Walker’s steady presence, and Bones’s silent watchfulness.

“We’re here to help,” Skull said quietly, lifting his empty hands as a sign of peace. Though he had a protective urgency in his voice, he did his best to keep it gentle. “Your husband is in our custody. He sent us to get you and the kids out.”

Her knuckles tightened over her children’s shoulders. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?” she asked, voice quivering. She was no stranger to fear, her eyes spoke of horrors endured long before tonight, and it was understandable that mistrust gleamed there, too.

Skull swallowed. “You’re not naive. If Blade’s been captured, the cartel will come after you. They’ll think he’s talking. You and the children will be targets.”

Stepping forward, Walker offered a small nod of agreement. “We can keep you safe,” she added, voice calm, almost clinical. “We have the means to give you and your children new identities and a secure future.”

The woman hesitated, glancing between them and the door. Outside lay the labyrinth of the shantytown, her home, her entire world. But it also concealed threats lurking in every alley. The bare truth glimmered in her eyes. She knew Skull was right.

“I can’t just leave,” she whispered, though her tone betrayed uncertainty. “This is all we have.”

Skull cast a quick glance at Walker. He recognized that subtle empathy she wore softened only enough to let compassion through. Stepping closer, Skull kept his voice low to avoid attracting unwanted attention. “I’m not going to sugarcoat this. The cartel will send a death squad if they suspect your husband flipped. And if you stay, you won’t have a fighting chance.”

There was a flicker of desperate courage in her gaze. She squared her shoulders and gave a protective squeeze to each child. They clutched her legs, eyes big and silent. “Where will you take us?”

“Somewhere safe,” Skull answered, gently. “Clean water, stable environment. A new life. You’ll be able to raise your children without fear. That’s what Blade wants for you.”

She searched his face a moment longer, then darted a look at Walker, who nodded once, calm and composed, offering reassurance. Bones let out a low whine, picking up on the tension, and Skull placed a steadying hand on the dog’s back. His heart pounded, feeling the pressure of time. The longer they lingered, the greater the chance of discovery.

Finally, Blade’s wife gave a small nod. Her voice wavered, but her decision was clear. “We’ll go.”

Relief and determination surged through Skull like a current, his instincts flaring with a sense of protective triumph. He keyed his radio. “Jackpot,” he murmured, alerting Iceman that they had Blade’s wife and children.

“Copy that,” Iceman responded. He would fight to keep this family safe, just as he’d fight for his father back home. For an instant, the guilt of not being there at his father’s bedside threatened to rise again, but he pushed it aside. Duty first. There would be time for regret later, if he survived.

Skull motioned for Walker to lead the way out. She paused near the door, meeting his eyes. The intensity of the unspoken connection between them sent a shiver through him. She was a fortress of reason, but he wanted to know every chamber of her guarded heart. He wanted that closeness, that understanding. The moment passed in silence, both of them acknowledging it without words.

Bones slipped ahead, muzzle low, checking corners. The children clung to their mother, trusting the strength of two strangers for lack of any other choice. Skull took up the rear, weapon ready but mind divided between the immediate threat of the cartel and the more personal, looming fear of losing his father. Yet as the group melted into the darkness, he forced his focus on the now.

One mission at a time. Save this family. Secure Blade’s intel. Then go home, and hope there would still be time to see his father alive.

He let the roiling emotions fuel him. Duty didn’t simply belong to a uniform or a job. It was woven into every tie that bound people together, family, teammates, and the innocent depending on him. Under the cloak of night, Skull, Walker, and a terrified family crept away from the only place they had ever known, guided by a dog’s quiet vigilance and the resolute determination of two warriors who refused to fail.