Page 67 of Rusty's Command

“It proves your story,” he said, his voice softer now, his eyes meeting hers. “And that you’re not crazy.”

She chuckled softly. “All right, hit me. What’s the bad news?”

He grimaced, his nose scrunching slightly. “The man in the tarp was dead.”

Her smile faded. “Oh no. Who was he?”

“No idea yet,” he said, shaking his head. “But he’s got Yakuza tattoos, so he was one of their own.”

She stared at him, struggling to comprehend how people could live their lives steeped in such darkness.

“There’s more bad news,” he added, his tone heavy.

“Of course there is,” she said with a sigh. “What else?”

“It looks like they’ve been using that gravesite for a while. The dogs have already found four more bodies. God knows how many are still buried out there.”

“Jesus,” she whispered, the weight of that news pressing down on her.

“We would never have found them without you,” he said, his voice warm with gratitude.

She shrugged, exhaling sharply. “Like I told you, it was just an accident.”

For a moment, they sat in silence, nibbling on strawberries, their gazes locked. The sunlight framed him in a golden glow, and as her eyes roamed over his strong, rugged form, she shoved the horrors of Yakuza and graves from her mind. She didn’t wantto waste another minute on all that evil. She wanted to focus on him.

She leaned closer, her breath catching.Will his body feel just as incredible beneath my fingertips as it did all those years ago?A slow smile curved her lips.Let’s find out.

With a playful grin, she tugged her top over her head and tossed it aside.

His gaze snapped to her chest. “Oh, hello.” A flicker of disbelief and something hotter flared within his eyes. “No way . . . that’s not the same red bikini, is it?”

She giggled. “Of course not. This body’s seen a few more sunsets since then, and I’m nothing like I used to be.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire. “You’re more beautiful than ever.”

A delicious warmth spread through her in a cocktail of anticipation and amusement. “Are you sure? I think you need a closer look.” With delicious pulses dancing through her insides, she untied the strings of her bikini top, letting the fabric drift away. The intensity in his gaze made her nipples peak to rock hard.

“Oh,” he breathed and swallowed so loudly she heard it. “You’re right. Your body has changed.”

She gasped.

“These are even better.” He reached for her breasts with a touch that was almost hesitant, like he was in a wonderful dream that he didn’t want to wake from.

As she giggled, he curled his hand beneath her boobs as if reacquainting himself with a landscape he’d once known well. She shivered under his touch, and finding the hem of his shirt, she tugged it upward. He helped her pull the shirt off and tossed it aside.

Her fingers wandered over the chiseled contours of his chest, tracing the defined ridges on his abdomen, and the tantalizingline of hair that drew her gaze downward. As her fingertips danced across his skin, they lingered on the raised scars: a jagged one across his chest, another near his collarbone. These battle marks told a story, and she ached to know how he earned them all.

“Your body has changed, too,” she whispered, her voice rough with desire. A mix of emotions sparked in his eyes that she couldn’t read . . . vulnerability maybe, or longing.

“Yeah, well, this body has been through hell and?—”

She silenced his words with a fierce, possessive kiss. As their mouths merged, a torrent of emotions poured out—years of love, desire, and longing finally unleashed. Her tongue tangled with his, savoring the sweetness of the strawberries and the depth of his desire, a rich, intoxicating flavor that left her breathless.

He responded with a hunger that bordered on desperation, and he kissed her with a primal force that seemed to shatter the walls he’d built around himself. His hand swept up the line of her back, pulling her closer as his fingers dug deep into her skin. The possessive touch ignited a firestorm of passion that had been simmering beneath the surface for years.

Their bodies locked in a fierce, unyielding hold as if letting go would sever the fragile thread that bound them together. He deepened his kiss into a dominating pledge of possession and protection that made her body vibrate with a hunger she’d only ever felt with him.

She no longer just wanted him. She needed him.

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