Chapter 17 #2
The pain in her voice cuts deeper than any physical injury.
I should step back. Should maintain professional distance. Should remember all the reasons why getting emotionally involved complicates operations and creates vulnerabilities.
Instead, I pull her closer.
Rachel comes willingly, her hands finding my shoulders, her body pressing against mine despite the compression wrapping and the evidence of violence written across my frame. She tilts her head back to meet my eyes, and what I see there destroys the last of my resistance.
"I'm not leaving you again," I say, the promise dangerous and necessary. "Whatever happens next, whatever missions come after this one, I'm not walking away."
"You can't promise that." Rachel says, but her hands are already moving, sliding up to frame my face with a tenderness that makes my chest tight.
"I can promise I'll fight like hell to come back.
Every single time." My thumb traces the line of her jaw, feeling the rapid pulse beneath her skin.
"I can promise you matter more than the careful distance I've been trying to maintain.
I can promise that dying out there would have meant leaving behind the only thing that's ever made me want to stay. "
Rachel's breath catches. For a heartbeat, we just stand there close enough that I can feel her breathing, see the way her pupils dilate, feel the heat building between us.
Then she kisses me.
Not gentle or questioning. Just claims my mouth with fierce intensity, her fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me down to her level with desperate need.
I respond immediately, one hand sliding to the small of her back, the other cupping the base of her skull, holding her exactly where I want her while I kiss her like I've been dying to since Tucson.
She tastes like relief and want and the same desperate need from before.
Her mouth opens under mine and I deepen the kiss, my tongue sliding against hers, swallowing the small sound she makes when I pull her tighter against me.
The compression wrapping protests the movement but I don't care.
Pain is distant and irrelevant compared to the feel of her body against mine, the way she responds to every touch like neither of us can get enough.
I walk her backward until her shoulders hit the wall beside her bunk, my body caging hers, one hand braced beside her head while the other grips her hip hard enough to leave marks. She arches into the touch, her head falling back against the concrete, exposing the long line of her throat.
I take immediate advantage, my mouth finding the pulse point beneath her jaw, tasting salt and skin and the rapid flutter of her heartbeat. She gasps, her nails digging into my shoulders through my shirt, pulling me closer despite the compression wrapping between us.
"Colton." My name on her lips sounds like prayer and demand. "I need—I can't—"
"I know," I say against her throat, teeth scraping over delicate skin. "I know what you need."
My hands find the hem of her shirt and pull it over her head in one smooth motion.
The fabric catches briefly on her hair before falling away, leaving her in a simple cotton bra that somehow makes her more devastating than any gear ever could.
Real and soft and trusting me with this vulnerability despite everything I've put her through.
"You're beautiful," I say, the words inadequate but true. "So damn beautiful."
My hands find the clasp of her bra, flicking it open with practiced ease. I peel the straps down her arms and toss it aside, and the sight of her bare before me makes my mouth go dry.
I cup her breasts, thumbs brushing over her nipples until they harden beneath my touch.
Rachel arches into my hands with a sharp intake of breath that goes straight to my cock.
I lower my head and take one nipple into my mouth, sucking hard while my hand works the other, rolling and pinching until she's gasping.
"Colton," she breathes, her fingers tangling in my hair, holding me against her.
I switch to the other nipple, teeth scraping over the sensitive peak before soothing it with my tongue. Her hips rock against mine, seeking friction, seeking more.
Rachel's hands move to my belt when I finally pull back, working the buckle with shaking fingers. "Less talking. More touching. I need to feel you. Need to know you're really here."
I don't argue. Just claim her mouth again while my hands work at her jeans, pushing them down her hips along with the simple cotton underwear beneath. She kicks them away impatiently, already working at my own pants, getting them open and shoved down enough to free me.
The position puts pressure on my ribs but I ignore the pain. This matters more. Rachel matters more. I lift her against the wall, her legs wrapping around my waist automatically, the heat of her pressed against me in ways that make thinking difficult.
"Tell me you want this," I say, holding myself at her entrance, every muscle locked with the effort of not just taking what we both need. "Tell me you're sure."
"I'm sure," Rachel breathes, her hands fisting in my hair, pulling hard enough to send sparks down my spine. Since you showed up in my yard and I knew you came back. Stop asking questions and—"
I thrust inside before she can finish, burying myself completely in one hard stroke that steals the breath from both of us. She's tight and hot and perfect, her body taking me in like she was made for this, like eight years apart changed nothing about the way we fit together.
"Yes," Rachel gasps, her head falling back against the wall, her inner muscles clenching around me. "God, yes."
I pull back and thrust again, harder this time, her gasp driving me forward. The rhythm builds fast, frantic and claiming, both of us taking what we need.
Rachel meets every thrust, her hips rolling against mine, taking me deeper, demanding more.
Her nails rake down my back through my shirt, not caring about the compression wrapping or the cracked ribs or any of the damage I'm carrying.
Just holding on while I drive into her with increasing force, the wall shuddering with each impact.
"Missed this," I manage between thrusts, my mouth finding her throat again, teeth scraping over the delicate skin hard enough to mark. "Missed you. Missed the way you feel."
"Then don't leave again," Rachel gasps, her voice breaking on the last word as I change the angle slightly and hit something that makes her cry out. "Don't walk away. Don't disappear. Stay with me. Stay with us."
"I will," I promise, the words coming out rough between increasingly erratic thrusts. "I'm staying. Not leaving. Not walking away."
Rachel's response is incoherent, just a sharp cry as her body tightens around me, inner muscles clenching with the kind of intensity that tells me she's close. I shift my grip, one hand sliding between us to find the bundle of nerves that will push her over the edge.
The touch does exactly what I intended. Rachel comes with a broken sound that I swallow with my mouth, her whole body shaking, inner muscles gripping me so tight it's almost painful.
I thrust through her climax, prolonging it, drawing it out until she's gasping and shaking and begging me to stop and keep going in the same breath.
Only then do I let myself follow, thrusting deep and holding there as my own release hits like a freight train. The pleasure is sharp and overwhelming, every nerve ending firing at once.
We stay pressed together against the wall for long moments afterward, both breathing hard, both trembling with the aftershocks. Finally, I ease out of her carefully and lower her feet back to the floor, my hands steadying her when her knees threaten to buckle.
"Bed," I manage, the single word about all I can handle while my brain is still trying to reconnect after that kind of intensity.
Rachel nods, letting me guide her the few steps to the bed. We collapse onto it together, a tangle of limbs and sweat-slicked skin. She curls against my less-injured side, her head resting on my shoulder, one hand splayed across my chest where she can feel my heart still racing.
The compression wrapping is askew but I don't bother adjusting it. Everything can wait. Right now, this moment matters more than mission parameters or operational security or any of the careful distance I've tried to maintain.
"What happens next?" Rachel asks quietly, her breath warm against my skin.
The question is simple and impossibly complicated.
We're in Echo Base with Committee operatives hunting us.
Lucas needs to give testimony that will change everything.
Reeve is out there somewhere, patient and methodical, tracking our movements with terrifying precision.
The situation is complex and dangerous and far from resolved.
But right now, in this bed with Rachel curled against me, the answer feels clear.
"We take it one step at a time," I say, pressing a kiss to her hair. "Keeping you both safe. Everything after that." My hand finds hers against my chest. "But I'm here for all of it. Not going anywhere."
Rachel's quiet for a moment. "You mean that."
"Yeah. I do."
She relaxes against me, exhaustion finally catching up with the adrenaline crash and emotional weight of everything that's happened. Within minutes, her breathing evens out into the steady rhythm of sleep, her body going boneless and trusting in a way that makes my chest tight.
I lie awake longer, staring at the ceiling of her quarters, processing what just happened between us.
The sex was frantic and necessary and everything we both needed.
But it was also a promise made physical, a claiming that goes both ways, an acknowledgment that we're done pretending we can do this separately.
Rachel's breathing evens into sleep. Somewhere in the darkness outside these walls, Reeve is already tracking us. Methodical. Patient. Deadly. I tighten my arm around her and stare at the ceiling, counting the hours until the next threat finds us.