Page 57

She narrowed her eyes. “Were. You. Discharged?”

“Um…define discharged.”

She sighed, walked to the door, and looked out into the hall. Joker was walking toward her like a man on fire. “He’s in here.”

“Everly, don’t ?—”

“He brought reinforcements.”

“You’re a damn traitor, woman.”

The door filled with one mad CO. Joker entered like a storm cloud in boots, Buck and D-Day right behind him.

Joker marched up to the gurney, face thunderous.

“I told you to stay in that fucking bed! How is it you’re in the fucking Philippines?”

“I got on a plane,” Zorro muttered.

“You think this is funny ?”

“No, sir…um…was that a direct order?” Joker’s mouth tightened. “In my defense…I was on morphine. My memory is foggy, but you said nothing about not boarding a flight. Did I miss that?”

Joker exhaled hard. “You’re part of this team. We need you back. Alive. That means you start taking care of yourself , Martinez. Do you understand me? ”

Zorro straightened just slightly. “Yes, sir. Can I lay down now? I’m an idiot. I took a flight when I was wounded. What kind of people are you to let me escape?”

Joker turned to Everly, and she just shook her head at his affectionate look. “You got him?”

She gave a small nod. “I’ve got him.”

Buck said, “My sympathies.”

D-Day muttered, “May God have mercy on your soul.”

Zorro, quiet now, just reached for her hand and laced their fingers together.

Home.

It didn’t matter if it was a gurney or a battlefield or a hallway in the Philippines.

She was holding onto it, and this time, she wasn’t letting go.

Zorro’s Residence, Bonita, California

“Come on, Zorro. Get up.” He was instantly aware and ready, his morning wood giving him a jolt of pleasure just from brushing against the sheet covering his naked body. “We’re about to have a full house in an hour, and you need to shower, dress, and get that steak on the grill.”

Sunshine flowed into the room as she opened the curtains, but she glowed brighter. “I’m still recovering, Doc Sunshine,” he whined. “You should look at my wound. I’m feeling…strange. It might be infected.”

“What? It’s almost fully healed. If you did something—” She moved too close and he snagged her wrist, dragged her down to the bed. “You tricky bastard,” she squealed, but there was no heat in her tone.

He laughed as he rolled her over, already pulling at her top, getting it half off her. She pulled it down, and he went for her shorts. She wiggled. “That’s only making me harder, babe. So I’m all for it.”

He pressed his aching dick against her hips and groaned. She froze, opened her legs helplessly, her breath catching. “Oh, God, Mateo.”

“Say it again, and again, and again, querida .”

“Mateo. Mateo . Mateo.”

“Never get tired of hearing that,” he whispered. “I want you, babe. Besides, morning wood is important.”

“Oh, how’s that? I’m sure you have a dissertation on it.”

“You know, you’re a doctor.”

I’m not a sex doctor. I’m a surgeon and believe me, you don’t want me to operate on Frank and the boys.”

He chuckled and growled, low and needy, his hips thrusting. “Oh, yes I do. Over and over again.” Her breathing went as ragged as his, but she was teasing him with this resistance, and he loved it. “Erections are good for me, like vitamins, telling me that my testosterone levels are optimum.”

“You’re making that up.”

“Nope. God’s truth. Sex is therapeutic.”

“Zorro…grab my phone and pull up the medical journal.”

“Oh, no, I’m not falling for that, chica .

I have it memorized.” He tapped his temple as she gave him a feral grin.

“Better blood pressure, less stress, better sleep, heart health, boosts my immune system and…” He gave her the grin he knew would melt her bones.

“Increases happiness. Let’s get happy, mi vida . ”

She laughed, then her voice caught again as he’d been slowly working her top off, keeping her distracted with his dick and his ridiculous dirty talk. He captured her nipple, and she cried out. He sucked hard, his erection swelling and thickening. “Are you wet for me, babe?”

“Why don’t you find out,” she whispered.

This time his breath caught. “Fuck…babe…” He slid his hand between her shorts and underwear to the…slick, hot wonder of the sweet part that made her so achingly female. He ripped her shorts off, shoved her legs open, and took her in.

His gaze tracked over Everly, and it hit him all over again how devastating she was. Not just beautiful. Formidable. Those piercing blue eyes didn’t just look at people, they measured them. Her cheekbones were cut like conviction, her mouth full and expressive, capable of both precision and fire.

She was tall, strong, her body sculpted by years of trauma rotations and deployment zones, forged in blood and sweat and unrelenting motion. That blonde hair, usually twisted up, pinned tight, had come loose, falling around her shoulders in waves that made his breath catch.

She wasn’t just tough. She was surgeon-tough. Battlefield-tough. The kind of woman who didn’t flinch when the world tilted sideways. She’d worked beside SEALs, Marines, combat medics, and never once backed down.

She didn’t need to keep up. She led. In war zones, in ORs, in moments that would bring most people to their knees. She made it look effortless. No complaints. No weakness. Just fire, focus, and the relentless will to save .

God help him. He was wrecked for her for the rest of his damn natural life.

His gaze dragged over her, splayed out beneath him, bare, golden, his .

God, she was devastating. Not just beautiful, undeniable .

Those blue eyes, glassy with need, tracked him like a hunter, even now.

Her cheekbones caught the low light like sculpted bone and war paint.

Her mouth, full, kiss-bruised, flushed from his name, was parted on a breath that sounded like surrender.

She was wet and aching for him, her thighs parted, her hips tilted toward his body like her soul was already reaching for his.

Strong, sleek, and so goddamn real . Every inch of her was earned, from the curve of her waist to the flex of muscle beneath soft skin, from the scars she tried to hide to the heat that bled off her like a heartbeat.

This wasn’t the woman who stood over operating tables, commanding the room with surgical fire. This was his woman, undone, open, perfect in her need.

Still, even like this, she felt powerful .

She didn’t beg. She didn’t plead. She just was —a force, fierce and unflinching, letting him see everything and hold nothing back.

He didn’t just want her. He would worship her.

But before he could do a thing, she surged up and pushed him back. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to confess for a long time,” she murmured.

Her voice was low, almost hoarse, the kind of sound a confession makes when it’s too heavy to carry any longer.

She pushed him gently back onto the bed, her body aligning with his, skin on skin, heat to heat.

Her hand slid down, slow and sure, until her palm cupped him fully.

The sound he made, deep, guttural, was almost too much to bear.

She rubbed the crown of him in slow, tight circles, her thumb teasing, her grip firm. His hips lifted instinctively, his breath catching like her name was trapped inside it.

Then she slid down his body, breath warm against his ribs.

“I was in the Philippines,” she whispered, lips brushing his chest, her breath a ghost across his skin. “I overheard you…talking to your mother.”

He stilled.

Her tongue found his nipple and circled once before she sucked him gently, then bit down, a sharp sting that made his hips jerk and a moan crack loose from his throat.

“You were so sweet,” she said softly, licking the spot she’d bitten. “So tender. Trying to soothe her. You were grieving, aching, over what happened to Buck. Just being so you.”

Her hand stroked him again, fingers sliding down to cup him as her mouth worked its way lower. Her lips grazed the curve of his abdomen, her tongue tracing the lines cut into his muscles. Her teeth scraped the ridge just above his hip.

“I stood there,” she murmured, “and you carved up my heart. I melted. You made me ache.”

She kissed his belly, low, then bit again, harder this time.

“I wanted to take you into my arms and never let go,” she whispered. “At the same time, I wanted to fuck you so hard you forgot everything else.”

He gasped, every muscle going taut, a shudder tearing through him.

“Everly…”

She looked up at him, her eyes fever-bright and fierce.

“When I walked into that hospital room,” she whispered, “you were lying there, wounded, devastated, and beautiful. All I could think about was your mouth. I needed your mouth. I needed to taste you. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe. So I kissed you.”

She brushed her mouth over the sharp V of his hip.

“Then I ran away like a coward.”

Her hand tightened around him again, and she pulled his jutting erection up slowly, the velvet heat of him heavy in her grip. Her lips parted. Her breath was a whisper across his skin.

“I wanted you then, so very much, and now, I’m telling you this so you know.”

She took him into her mouth, just the head, sucking gently, using her tongue in slow, devastating circles until he groaned and dropped his head back against the pillows, his hands clenched tight in the sheets. The pleasure arced through him like lightning and shattered every coherent thought.

“You are,” she said between licks, her voice thick with heat and reverence, “the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen, inside and out.”

She licked him again, firmer now, letting her tongue drag the length of him.

“I’m going to fuck you with my mouth,” she said, eyes locked to his, “until you come undone.”

Her mouth closed over him again, deeper this time, hungrier, and all he could do was hold on and try to survive her love.

She didn’t tease this time. She just closed her mouth over him and took him deep.

Zorro’s whole body arched, his hands flying to the sheets, fisting them hard as a broken groan tore from his chest. Her mouth was hot silk, her tongue a slow stroke of mercy and damnation in equal measure.

She sucked gently at first, building pressure with a rhythm that felt like worship, like penance, like a claim.

His breath fractured.

“Everly,” he gasped, voice frayed, every syllable choked with disbelief. “Everly, baby—God…”

She moaned low around him, and the vibration made his hips jerk upward. Her fingers tightened around his base, holding him steady as her mouth moved again, deeper this time, her throat swallowing him inch by inch.

His hand reached for her, reflex, desperation, but she batted it away, one hand bracing hard against his thigh, pressing him down.

Stay.

Her mouth slid up slowly, her tongue teasing the underside with cruel, tender reverence, then sank again, deeper, firmer, pulling him into her like he belonged there. Like she’d been made to taste him. Like the act itself was a benediction.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he groaned. His voice was broken, nothing like the strong, controlled medic she’d known. He was unraveling. For her. Only her.

She pulled back just far enough to let him see her.

“I want it all,” she whispered, her voice raw with truth. “I want you to come undone for me. I want to feel it. To know I broke you in the best way.”

Then she dropped again.

Sucked him harder.

Her rhythm grew ruthless. Sensual. Wild. One hand worked in tandem, her mouth slick and tight and perfect, tongue swirling, lips sealed, cheeks hollowing with each pull. His thighs trembled beneath her palms.

She gave him everything.

Every ounce of devotion she couldn’t say aloud.

Every ounce of grief, guilt, need, want.

When he cried out, when his back bowed off the mattress and he gasped her name like it was salvation and surrender all at once, she didn’t stop. She held him until he had nothing left to give, until he collapsed beneath her hands, sweat-slick and stunned, his chest heaving like he’d run a marathon.

She kissed the tip of him softly, gently.

Then rested her cheek against his thigh, her fingers still curled around his hip and just breathed with him.

Zorro reached down, hand trembling as it cupped her jaw, lifting her face until she looked up at him.

His voice was shattered. “You touch me like that for the rest of our lives, and I’m going to die a happy man.”

She smiled.

“I’m going to love you until it hurts so good, right into this happily ever after. You know that is a given, my Mateo , ” she said simply.

Then she crawled up his body, slow and deliberate, and settled against his chest.

This time, when he wrapped his arms around her, he found that love was worth waiting for, love was worth aching for, and love was worth dying for. But she’d pulled him from the dark and gave him light. Everly. His querida . The one and only, Doc Sunshine.