Page 70 of Savage Reckoning

His mouth slants across mine. “I know. We’ll talk later.”

It’s the elephant in the room. The thing neither of us wants to see or speak of. With the matter of Jerome Archer effectively settled, he has no further reason to stay. He needs to resume his hunt for Sokolov and he won’t find him on Caraksay.

We both knew this would be a temporary reunion, and Gabe would move on again. It was never acknowledged, but it was there.

But he’s right. We can discuss the details later. Right now, we have more pressing business. I break the kiss and take his hand. I lead him through to my bedroom, somehow managing to lose my shoes and my blouse on the way there. We tumble onto the mattress in a flurry of arms and legs, wrestling with each other and our clothes. Within seconds, we’re naked, and when he sinks his thick cock into me, I let out a shuddering groan.

“It’s been too long…” I gasp.

“Only four days,” he mutters. “But, fuck, you’re right.”

I wrap my legs around him and roll my hips, squeezing my inner muscles around his thick girth. The friction is delightful, intense, but still not enough. It will never be enough.

He finds a rhythm, short and fast at first, then lengthening his strokes. Deep, smooth, he fills me so perfectly. He always did.

Pleasure coils and spirals, surging up from my core. I quiver, and sensation pulses through me, building to a stormy crescendo before bursting with an avalanche of heady joy. I cry out, the sound muffled in his neck, and rake my fingernails down his back.

He stiffens in my arms, goes still for a moment, then thrusts again, hard and deep. “Christ, baby,” he mutters. “It gets better and better.”

I know.

I cling to him long after we’ve both gone still, long after the waves of pulsating lust have receded, at least for now. I let out an anguished moan when he eventually slides out of me and rolls to my side.

“Welcome back,” I whisper. Please stay…

“I need to go back to the clinic.” I stretch out beside him and contemplate getting dressed.

“Yeah, I guess. I heard the boss is back with us.” He kisses my forehead. “You did well, Doc.”

I’m not about to take all the credit. Cristina’s devotion and Ethan’s sheer pig-headedness are probably bigger factors in his recovery. Still, I did what I could. “I need to check in on him.”

“D’you want me to come? I never actually met the guy properly.”

I shake my head. “Not yet. He’s still very weak.”

“Really? He didn’t give me that impression. Still, you know best. I’ll be here when you get back.”

I brush my lips over his. “You’d better be.”

I pull my clothes on again as quickly as I can. “There’s food in the fridge, if you want anything.”

“What’s wrong with Mrs McRae’s cooking?”

“Nothing. I just… We need to talk. When I get back. Promise?”

He grins at me from the tangle of sheets. “Promise.”

Jack arrives at the clinic a few moments after I do. He pops his head around my office door. “Okay if I go in?”

“Of course. I think he’s awake.”

He nods. “Gabe Sawyer’s back.”

“I know. I… I saw him.”

He says nothing more. If this was anyone but the hard-as-nails Jack Morgan, I might even interpret his expression as sympathetic. He leaves me to my work and disappears into Ethan’s room. The low hum of voices tells me he’s delivering his report of Archer’s death.

The door crashes open. I splash my coffee all over the immunisation reports I was filling in, the legacy of Covid-19.

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