Page 30 of Booker's Mission

Christ, what she did to him, and she didn’t even have to be awake to affect him. Grab him by the balls. Or worse, his heart.

Booker sighed, knowing it was futile to pretend he hadn’t fallen in love with her long before they’d both gotten waylaid a year ago and had their lives irrevocably changed. Something the mission had brought to the forefront. Not that he wanted to deny it, it was just… as Callie would say… complicated.

He wondered if she felt at all the same. If she thought they were worth a real shot. Sure, she’d said she’d wanted to call him back. And there was the part where she’d told him she’d wanted more during that fateful night. Had made it clear she wanted them to finish what they’d started. But with everything else in her life circling the drain, he couldn’t help but worry theirsecond chancemight become collateral damage.

“Call me crazy, Booker, but you look like Wyatt just broke up with you.”

He snapped his focus down, shaking his head at that blue gaze. How her eyes gleamed in the dim light streaming in through the cracks. What he assumed was the sun rising, though, it was nothing more than a hint of lighter gray amidst the storm.

“Wyatt would never break up with me. I’m a keeper.”

“Not going to argue with that. Then, what’s with the look?”

God, if she only knew…

“I was thinking.”

“About how screwed we are? Can’t argue with that, either.”

“We’re not screwed. We’re just—”

“Out of options? Our minds?” Her mouth quirked into the beginnings of a smile. “Time, maybe?”

“I was going to say, in limbo. Until we figure out our next move. Then, we’ll kick ass, again.”

Those kissable lips of hers pursed as her eyes narrowed. Then, she was twisting in his arms — rubbing her crotch against his, and damn if his dick didn’t respond. From controlled to a full-on boner in two seconds flat. And with them both barely dressed, there was no way she didn’t feel him nudging her cleft.

Realizing he wasn’t the only one aroused didn’t help him regain any of that control. Rein it all in when it was obvious she was right there with him. Waiting.

Booker closed his eyes, inhaling in hopes of calming the pounding of his heart, but it only infused her sweet scent into his brain. Roses with a hint of summer rain. He didn’t know if it was some kind of long-lasting perfume or just her, but he knew he’d recognize it anywhere.

Callie closed the mere inch between them, drawing her finger along his jaw. “I don’t want to be in limbo, anymore. Not after spending the past year treading water. Hoping I’d get another chance to have you in this very position. I know the timing sucks. And yeah, there’re armed assholes hunting us down, but…”

She nipped at his lower lip, grinning when the moan he’d been suppressing surfaced. “If they were going to chance the storm to come after us, they would have knocked down the door, already. And since it’s still raging out there, and the roof and walls seem to be holding…”

She kissed him. No brushing her lips across his jaw, lingering in the anticipation. Just her mouth crushing against his, her tongue tracing the seam until he opened - tangled his with hers. And damn if it wasn’t better than he remembered. The warm press of her skin. The velvety feel of her mouth.

Booker didn’t push to seize control, knowing she probably needed to expend some of the pent-up energy. The tension and adrenaline from the mission — discovering her boss had been the bastard hiding in the shadows, all along. But once she eased back… grabbed a quick breath.

He was all in. Spearing his fingers through her hair, tilting her head back, then diving in. Making her kiss look chaste. Like they might have done during a chance meeting with friends. Not the no-holds-barred assault he’d launched. Eating at her mouth, lifting, nipping, then claiming her, again. Over and over until he wasn’t sure either of them were actually breathing. More likely hoping their lungs would fill through osmosis. Some weird skin absorption.

Callie moaned, the raspy sound scratching at all of his nerve endings already strung tight. Threatening to snap from one more gasp. The lightest of touches. Having her pull back, then stand, fighting to remove the last two scraps of clothing had him following her up. Shucking his boxers before stopping cold because…

God, she was stunning. With sun-kissed skin atop an athletic frame. Curves that fit perfectly against him. Complemented his harder angles.

She took a step forward, the gray light hitting her left side — making her new scars stand out. He frowned, drawing his fingers along her ribs, circling the puckered marks before looking up at her.

Callie wrapped her fingers around his wrist, shaking her head. “Ancient history.”

“I should have capped the fucker back at that shack.”

“But that’s what sets you apart. Makes you the guy who can never be bought. Who I’ll always be able to trust with my life.” She moved closer, tracing his scars. “You’ve got some new ones, too.”

“Those are all on me, no one else.”

“I read the report, Booker. You were the only reason your entire crew wasn’t killed. But… I know that’s not how you see it. That nothing I say will ease the guilt. Something else we have in common. So…”

She ran that hand across his stomach then down to his hip, stopping with her nails teasing his groin. “How about we forget about the scars. Our failures. And focus on how hot this is going to be. You did say it would exceed expectations.”

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