Page 63 of Stealth Mission

Damn.

I lower myself on my elbows, cradle her head against my chest.“Fuck, baby. Wow.”

We breathe like this for a long time. Clinging tightly to each other. Hearts pounding through bone where we are pressed together.

A passing car horn sounds.

“Fuck off,” I grumble and she laughs huskily.

She exhales softly, molding more against me. “I think I died.”

“Sweetheart, you nearly did me in.”

Cheek pressed against hers, I hold her until we’re almost breathing normally again. The temperature is dropping. Some of the sweat pouring down my neck has started to feel tight on my skin.

With every thud of my war-battered heart, my worry grows.

I’m a SEAL.

I’ve taken lives in combat. I’ve saved them on the battlefield.

But I can’t ever remember feeling more afraid.

Chapter Twenty-Three

This is the strangest, most wonderful day of my life. Okay, maybe that’s a little over the top, but my smile refuses to be held inside.

Ahhh… Yes. Blissful brain. Languid body.It’s a shame this sensation can’t last forever.

Only I wasn’t expecting it to evaporate at the rate it does. In an instant the mood in the truck shifts. In the space of a heartbeat everything changes.

Walt’s body language is tense. He won’t meet my gaze as he leans back, withdrawing his body from mine.

It seems like we are suddenly walking on eggshells. Every move. Every glance is charged.

After wrapping the condom in a paper napkin from the glovebox, he pushes his still semi-erect cock back into his briefs and straightens his shorts.

I shiver and I doubt it’s because of the air conditioning. A weird panic is growing to a hum in my veins.

With shaking fingers, I begin to straighten my clothing, but he stops me with a gentle hand on my bare thigh. His thumb brushes lightly over my skin.“You good?”

No. I’m worried. “Yes.”

As if he saw right through that, his brows draw tight, the dark gray of his eyes turning flinty as he looks at the fingerprints he left on my leg. “You weren’t saying a lot.”

I sure was moaning.

“Couldn’t talk. I think you knew what I needed without me saying a word. Now, I’m just a bit dazed.”

“Let me help you.”

Wearing a closed expression, he uses his large, calloused hands to carefully put my dress back in place, lifting the strap over my shoulder like it’s made of glass. Pulling the skirt down carefully, as he smooths his fingers against my thigh.

I search for words as the cold from the air conditioner blows across my skin.

When the silence stretches, he leans back in his seat. Dropping his head back. Closing his eyes.

This gives me a chance to look at his strong profile.

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