Page 29 of The Foreman
He pushed into her with a single, deep stroke that stole her breath. Her cry rang out, sharp and shuddering, the sound bouncing off the walls like a detonated charge, raw and full of surrender.
He moved with deliberate, devastating precision, each measured stroke a claim that drove her higher with every breathless second. His hands gripped her hips, firm and unwavering, commanding the rhythm with a possessive certainty that left no room for doubt. The tension between them snapped and crackled, every shift of his body a primal invocation of dominance and desire that left her breathless and trembling.
"You're mine, Macy. Say it," he growled, voice rough with the weight of possession.
A shiver ran down Macy’s spine, her breath catching in her throat. The words hit her like a bolt of electricity, charging every inch of her skin with need, claiming more than just her body. Her chest rose and fell in time with the pounding of her heart, a mix of lust and awe threading through her ribs. She met his gaze, wide-eyed but unflinching, and the sensation of being his, truly his, sank deeper than she'd expected. No quip, no banter. Just truth.
She clawed at his back. "Yours. God, yes."
"Again."
"Yours. Only yours."
He drove into her with relentless force, every thrust a raw claim that reverberated through her body. Her climax tore through her like a lightning strike, spine arching as she cried out, muscles seizing in a tidal wave of sensation. Her vision swam, body trembling, completely undone beneath him.
When he followed, it was with a groan of her name and a shudder that rocked them both.
He collapsed on top of her, chest heaving. For a moment he remained where he was before rolling to his back and pulling her close.
Macy stared at the ceiling, her body still tingling, her thoughts chasing the aftermath like leaves caught in a restless breeze. A slow pulse throbbed between her thighs, a heady reminder of everything they’d just shared, and everything that now waited outside this fragile cocoon of heat and breathless vulnerability.
"Well," she said finally. "That was adequate."
Trace laughed, low and wrecked. "Smartass."
She turned her head and met his gaze. No teasing now.
"You didn’t have to take this assignment. You sure as hell didn’t have to believe me. But you did. Why?"
He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. "Because when someone tries to destroy something that matters to me, I don’t walk away. I go to war."
She swallowed hard, the intensity of his words reverberating in her chest. They landed with a gravity that went beyond heat or sex, anchoring themselves somewhere vulnerable. Somewhere real.
Before she could answer, his comm pinged.He checked it and froze.
"What is it?"
"We’ve got movement at Nexus. Hawke says we’re not the only ones heading there tonight."
He looked at her, expression grim. His jaw clenched, breath slowing.
"They’re sending a kill team."
Macy’s breath stuttered, her fingers curling into the sheets as adrenaline surged. The room seemed to shrink around her, awareness sharpening to a blade-edge focus. She pushed upright, heart pounding, pulse drumming in her ears. Her gaze locked on Trace, searching for confirmation, denial, anything that would anchor her against the rising tide of dread.
But his face had gone hard—shuttered. That alone told her enough.
"Then I guess the war starts now," she murmured, her voice tight and steady, even as her stomach clenched with fear.
Trace’s eyes met hers. Dark. Focused. "Gear up, Macy. We’re going in hot. You stay where I tell you and do as you're told."
9
TRACE
The drive to Nexus Technologies buzzed with tension and low conversation, the kind of focused chatter that kept nerves sharp and minds occupied. Trace had his hands steady on the wheel, eyes sharp on the road, while Macy filled the space with her restless energy. She balanced a tablet on her knees, checking schematics and system protocols she still remembered from her years in the building. In the back, Hawke was checking magazines and muttering about how he hated babysitting, while Reed rode shotgun, his eyes on the mirrors.
“You two sure you can keep up?” Macy teased, not glancing up from the tablet.
