Chapter 11 #3
She stepped closer, close enough he could feel her body heat, could see the way her pulse jumped in her throat. “That thing you said. About rhythm. About breath and listening.”
“Yeah?”
“Show me.”
It wasn't about demolitions anymore. They both knew it.
He reached up slowly, giving her time to pull away, and cupped her face in his hand. Her skin was warm, soft, and when she leaned into his touch, something in his chest cracked open.
“It's about timing,” he said softly. “Reading the other person. Understanding what they need.”
“What do I need?”
“That's for you to tell me.”
She closed the distance between them, and when her lips met his, it was nothing like an explosion. It was slower and sweeter. A controlled burn that started small and built, degree by degree, until he was drowning in it.
Her hands came up to his chest, fingers curling into his shirt, and he pulled her closer, tasting coffee and her sweetness. The kiss deepened, and he forgot about missions and handlers and the thousand ways this could end badly.
There was only this. Her. Now.
When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, she rested her forehead against his chest.
“That was—”
“Yeah.” His voice was rough. “It was.”
“We probably shouldn't—”
“Probably not.”
“It complicates things.”
He nodded. “Definitely complicates things.”
She looked up at him, and despite everything, the danger, the conflicting missions, the absolute certainty that this would end in disaster, she was smiling.
“Worth it, though,” she said.
“Yeah.” He kissed her forehead. “Worth it.” When he kissed her again, it ignited something primal he'd been fighting since Willow had swooped into his life with those sharp brown eyes and that defiant chin.
Her mouth was soft and demanding all at once, and when she made that small sound in the back of her throat, half surrender, half challenge, he let himself go.
He backed her against the rough stone wall just inside the entrance, one hand cupping her jaw, the other braced above her head.
She tasted addictive, and he knew he was in deep.
When she bit his bottom lip, not gently, he groaned and pressed harder against her, letting her feel exactly what she did to him.
“Levi,” she breathed against his mouth, and the sound of his name splashed fuel on the fire burning hot already.
“What do you need?” he growled, pulling away a bit to look at her. He needed to see her eyes. He needed to know this was what she wanted. The cave's light caught the flush spreading across her cheekbones and the way her pupils had blown wide.
“Oh, no. Don't you dare stop,” she said, and there was the woman who flew into firefights without flinching. She grabbed the front of his tactical shirt and yanked him back to her.
They stumbled deeper into the cave, mouths fused together, hands frantically working at zippers and buckles and all the damn clothes that were suddenly too much.
Levi's fingers found the hem of her shirt, and he pulled it over her head, breaking the kiss just long enough to get the fabric between them.
Then his hands were on her skin, and merciful heavens, she was so soft, so warm.
They made it to the bed … somehow. Her sports bra joined her shirt on the cave floor.
He'd imagined this … God help him, he'd tried not to, but late at night, sleeping beside her on that bed, he'd imagined exactly this.
And holy fuck, the reality was so much better.
She was all lean muscle and gentle curves, and when he cupped her breast, thumbing her nipple to a tight peak, she arched into his touch with a moan that shot straight to his cock.
“You're killing me,” he muttered against her collarbone, trailing kisses down to take her nipple in his mouth.
Her fingers tangled in his hair, gripping hard enough to sting. She panted, “Good. I've wanted to kill you since day one.”
He laughed. It sounded rough to his own ears. Rough with fucking lust and need and the connection they had. He worked on the button of her cargo pants, while she did the same to his. Then she batted his hands away. “Strip.”
There was no need to tell him twice
Levi stood up and, in his hurry, twisted a bit too hard.
He winced, but he wasn’t going to let a bruise or wound stop him.
Fuck. No. He toed off his boots, stripped, and then looked back at Willow.
“Fuck.” The word fell from his lips. She was completely bare, his breath caught.
She was beautiful. Strong. Real. And looking at him like she might devour him whole.
“Come here,” she said, lying back on the bed. God help him … he went.
He covered her body with his, the feeling of skin on skin after weeks of wanting nearly undoing him. She wrapped her legs around his hips, opening for him, and he pressed his forehead to hers, breathing hard, trying to hold on to some semblance of control.
“Protection?” she asked, practical even now.
“Wallet. Back pocket. Hold on.” He wasn’t a damn fool; he was always prepared, but truthfully, he never expected to use the damn things.
He leaned over, carefully this time, and pulled his pants toward him. She grabbed the material and fished out his wallet. The movement pressed her breasts against his chest in a way that made him close his eyes and count to ten. When she handed him the foil packet, her fingers lingered on his.
He looked down at her. “You sure?” he asked because he needed to hear it, needed to know this wasn't just adrenaline and proximity. He didn’t want her to have regrets. That would fucking kill him.
“I've never been more sure of anything,” she said before pulling him down for another searing kiss.
He sheathed himself with shaking hands, then positioned himself at her core, looking into those brown eyes. Fuck … he knew with absolute certainty that this would change everything. Then she lifted her hips, taking him in just slightly. That was when thinking became impossible.
He pushed forward slowly, feeling her body yield to him, tight and hot and fucking perfect. Her breath hitched, and he froze.
“Don't stop,” she said again, nails digging into his shoulders. “I want all of you.”
He gave her what she wanted, sinking deep until there was nowhere else to go until they were completely joined. The sensation was overwhelming. Not just the physical, though God, that was intense enough, but something that felt dangerously like belonging.
“Move,” she demanded.
“Bossy.” He leaned down and kissed her as he set a rhythm that was harder than he'd intended, more desperate, but she met him thrust for thrust, her legs locked around him, her hands everywhere—his back, his shoulders, his ass, pulling him deeper.
The sounds she made drove him wild. The little gasps and moans that echoed off the cave walls, and his name, over and over. Fucking perfect.
“That's it, babe,” he growled against her neck, feeling her tighten around him. “Take what you need.”
She turned her head, catching his mouth in a kiss that was all tongue and teeth.
She clenched her inner muscles, and he groaned.
She swallowed the sound with the kiss. He retaliated by shifting the angle, hitting that spot inside her that made her cry out and dig her nails into his back hard enough to leave marks.
“Levi,” she gasped. “I'm—”
“I know. I've got you.” He slipped a hand between them, finding her clit and circling it with his thumb.
Her whole body went taut. She gasped and then arched as she came apart beneath him.
He just about died when her body clenched around him.
She yelled his name. The sight, sound, and feeling of her orgasm shoved him right over the edge.
He came hard, buried deep inside her, his vision whiting out as pleasure rolled through him in waves. When he could breathe again, he realized he was collapsed on top of her, probably crushing her, but when he tried to move, she tightened her arms around him.
“Stay,” she whispered. “Just for a minute.”
So, he did, feeling her heart thunder against his chest, feeling the aftershocks still rippling through her body, and feeling more content than he could remember being in years.
Eventually, biology demanded they separate. He dealt with the condom, using water and a clean cloth to clean them both up. She watched him with an expression he couldn't quite read, and when he laid down beside her, she immediately curled into his side.
They laid in silence for a long time, their breathing gradually slowing, sweat cooling on their skin. Levi ran his fingers through her hair, working out tangles, while she traced idle patterns on his chest. The cave was quiet except for their breathing and the distant sound of rain outside.
“I don't do this,” Willow said finally, her voice small in a way it never was. “I mean, obviously, I do this, I'm not a virgin, but I don't do this. Hookups. Sex with coworkers. Any of it.”
Levi's hand stilled in her hair. “Yeah. Me neither.”
She propped herself up on one elbow to look at him, surprise clear in her eyes. “Really? Big bad Levi doesn't have a girl in every port?”
“Really.” He reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I've had relationships. A few. But nothing in the last three years and nothing while on a mission. It's a rule I don't break.”
“So, what happened to that rule?” Her voice was light, but he could hear the vulnerability underneath.
He met her gaze steadily. “You happened. Been breaking all my rules since I met you.”
A smile flickered across her face, but it faded quickly. “Levi, that was …” She trailed off, shaking her head. “That was really good. Like, scary good.”
“Scary?” He ran his thumb along her jaw. “You afraid of me?”
“No.” Catching his hand, she pressed her lips to his palm. “I'm afraid of how much I want to do it again. I'm afraid that I might not be able to walk away from you when this mission is over.”
The honesty of it hit him square in the chest. He sat up, bringing her with him, and framed her face with both hands. “What if I don't want you to walk away?”
Her eyes searched his, looking for something. “You mean that?”
“I don't say things I don't mean.” He kissed her forehead, then her nose, then her mouth, soft and sweet. “I know we've got a job to do. I know the timing is shit. I know a thousand reasons why this is complicated. But, Willow, what just happened? That wasn't just physical. At least, not for me.”
She released a shaky breath. “Not for me either. And that's what scares me.”
“You, scared?” He tried for lightness. “The woman who flew us out of a riverbed while the cartel was shooting at us? The woman who literally carried me through the jungle to patch me up? The woman who calls me insane on a daily basis?”
That earned him a real smile. “You are insane.”
“Guilty.” He pulled her closer until she was practically in his lap. “But I'm your insanity, if you want me.”
“I want you,” she said before kissing him to prove it. When they broke apart, she added, “This is going to be complicated.”
“Everything worth having is.”
She studied him for a long moment, then nodded. “Okay. But, Levi? We have to be smart about this. No letting feelings compromise the mission.”
“Agreed. The mission comes first.” He kissed her again, slow and thorough. “But after? All bets are off.”
“All bets are off,” she echoed before settling back against his chest with a contented sigh.
Outside, the rain continued to fall, but inside the cave, wrapped around each other in the darkness, Levi felt something shift.
He'd spent years building walls, keeping people at arm's length, focusing on the mission and nothing else.
But this woman in his arms had bulldozed through every defense he had.
And the scariest part? He was glad she had.
“Hey, Levi?” Willow's voice was drowsy now.
“Yeah, love?”
“Thank you for waiting for me to be ready. For asking if I was sure.”
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Always, love. Always.”
She fell asleep in his arms a few minutes later, her breathing evening out, her body going loose and trusting against his. Levi stayed awake longer, keeping watch, thinking about the mission ahead and the woman beside him and how he would keep her safe while letting her be the badass pilot she was.
It would be complicated, just as she’d said.
But looking down at her face, peaceful in sleep, he knew with absolute certainty that she was worth every complication.