Page 30 of Savage Reckoning

I mentally curse myself. Why did I have to bring that up?

Her features redden, and she drops her gaze. “I… I’m sorry about that. Really. I should never have…”

“It’s okay. It’s done. Over.”

She shakes her head. “No, it isn’t. I’ve seen the way you limp. I did that to you.”

“You were provoked, even I can see that.”

“I was a professional soldier. I should never have used a weapon in anger. I just… lost my temper. I was so… so…”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t. It was all just a game to you. It meant nothing, but to me it was…”

I take her chin between my finger and thumb and tip her face up. “What was it, Megan?”

At first, I don’t think she’s going to answer, and I can’t blame her. Then, “It was everything. I loved you. I’d never loved anyone before, not like that. And you just made a mockery of it. Of everything, my future. Our future.”

“Megan, I…” How many times in the four years since that day have I wished I could wind the clock back and do it all again, live that day over and get it right this time? Even if the eventual outcome was the same, could I have been less crass? More sensitive? Could I have somehow managed not to crush her the way I did? Might we even have salvaged that future somehow?

“I shouldn’t have said that. Please, can we forget it?”

If Hell ever freezes over, maybe…

She tries to wriggle free. “We should get some sleep.”

I take a step closer, frame her face between my hands. “I’m sorry. I wish…”

“So do I, but it’s too late now.”

“Is it?”

“Gabe, please, we can’t—”

My mouth slants across hers, and I swallow whatever she was about to say.

She stiffens in my arms, and if she tried again to be free, I wouldn’t stop her. Wouldn’t blame her. But she doesn’t. She doesn’t want that any more than I do in this moment.

I trace the outline of her lips with my tongue, and the years melt away. I remember, and I’m back there on the base in Colorado, the sweltering heat of the El Paso sun on my back, a warm, willing woman writhing beneath me. Her mouth opens on a gasp, then a moan. Her fingers tangle in my hair, holding on to me while she kisses me back.

I slide my arm under her hips and lift her. Two paces, and we’re at the bed, I have no idea which one. I kneel on the mattress, set her down, and stretch out alongside her on the narrow divan. Just like old times, she clings to me, wraps her legs around me, and we roll together. I grab the hem of the T-shirt and raise it, past her hips, past her ribcage. Her perfect breasts spill from beneath the thin fabric, still the exact right fit for my palm.

I tear my mouth from hers to latch on to her nipple. She lets out a strangled cry. Her body arches against mine. I tug the shirt right up and over her head, then toss it onto the chair with my clothes before we roll again, and now, she’s on top, rearing above me like the angel she is.

So beautiful. So fucking beautiful…

“I loved you, too. I’d forgotten how much.” Her eyes are half closed, her head dropping back between her shoulder blades.

I reach up to take both soft breasts in my hands. Her nipples are between my fingers, firming and hardening as I pinch them.

“Gabriel, we shouldn’t,” she breathes, momentarily, before she lowers herself down to kiss me again.

She might be right, but I can’t think of one single reason why. I don’t ponder that point. Instead, I relinquish my hold on her just long enough to fumble in my jeans for a condom. And wish my ears would stop ringing.

I locate the foil packet and reach for the waistband of her shorts. The ringing seems to become louder, more insistent.

“Gabe, is that…?”

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