Page 78 of Victorious: Part 2
She falls, limp, trembling, and breathless.
When I finally pull away, her skin is sheened with sweat. Her lips part, cheeks flushed, hair tangled across the pillow as if she’s been wrecked in the best possible way.
I kiss my way up her body, taking my time, and when I reach her face, I press a soft kiss to her lips.
“That was…” she tries, but her words fail.
“Earth-shattering?” I finish for her.
She nods, barely able to lift her head. “I think I saw heaven. And you? You took me there.”
I grin and pull her into my arms. “Then mission accomplished.”
Moving in beside her, I slide next to her on the bed, completely spent, and we lie here in silence for a while, wrapped around each other as the chaos of Vegas hums outside our window. Her head rests on my chest, one leg slung over mine, her fingers tracing lazy circles on my stomach.
“I love this,” she whispers, curling closer, her head tucked beneath my chin, fingers lazily tracing patterns across my chest as though she’s sketching something only we understand. “Being here with you. Away from everything. It feels like we can just… be ourselves.”
The rhythm of her touch is hypnotic, grounding me in a way nothing else ever has.
This woman is not just in my arms.
She’s under my skin.
In my bloodstream.
Carved into every breath I take.
“I know what you mean.” I press a kiss to her temple. “No expectations, no one watching, no—”
The words die as my phone rings on the nightstand.
It’s Alpha’s ringtone, and it cuts through the quiet like a gunshot.
We both go still.
Clover tenses beside me. “Don’t answer it,” Clover whispers, fingers tightening slightly on my chest.
And for a heartbeat, I don’t.
I just stare at the screen, wanting to stay here, tangled up in her warmth, in this pocket of peace we’ve built between stolen touches and aching want.
But I can’t ignore it.
Not now.
Not with war on the horizon.
“I have to,” I groan, reaching for the phone on the nightstand, guilt already settling low in my gut. “It could be important.”
Clover sighs but nods, sitting up and pulling the sheet over her chest. The way she looks at me, equal parts understanding and disappointment, feels like being tugged out of a dream I wasn’t ready to leave.
“Phoenix.” Alpha’s voice is tight, controlled, but I hear the strain underneath. “We need to talk.”
“What’s wrong?” I ask, furrowing my brows, already knowing I’m not going to like the answer.
“The Martinez twins came through with intel on Rhonda. She’s dirty.”
The words hit me like a physical blow, but I’m confused as hell. “Wait, back up. Who the fuck are the Martinez twins? I’m not following, Pres.”
