Page 155 of Mission Shift

Braxton smirked. “You can have all the jets, baby. I just want you.”

We stripped down in sync, folding our clothes and tossing them into a loose pile near the deck chairs. Even though the airwas warm, the instant heat of the tub still made me flinch a little as I stepped in. Braxton followed, sinking low and releasing a groan, making me smile. I was oh so familiar with the sound by now.

I sat across from him at first, letting the heat melt some of the tension from my shoulders. He reached his arm along the edge of the tub, his fingertips tracing the water.

“You ever think,” he said, “that maybe life was supposed to be like this all along?”

I blinked. “Warm and wet?”

He grinned. “Easy. Simple. Just you and me and a place where there are no troubles.”

I didn’t know how to respond, but I moved closer.

Braxton shifted, meeting me in the middle, and we shared a kiss that wasn’t hungry—it was quiet, as if he were letting me decide what came next.

I climbed onto his lap and wrapped my arms around his neck, lowering my body to fit against his, just as we’d done so many times before. My thighs hugged his hips as I straddled him, the heat of the water enveloping us while the cool evening air drifted over our shoulders. Steam curled around us in lazy spirals, blurring the edges of reality like we were suspended in a dream. We kissed again, just enjoying each other’s presence. He ran his hands along my back, mapping me out as if he were memorizing every inch of my body.

“You okay?” he finally asked against my lips.

I nodded. “I just…don’t want this to end.”

“It won’t,” he said. “Not if I have anything to say about it. Actually, life will be better with family, not to mention dry land.”

The proximity of his body, solid and strong beneath mine, made my insatiable desire for him flare up. I shifted my hips, finding him hard and ready, and the groan that rumbled from his chest made my stomach clench.

I guided him into me slowly, letting my head fall forward against his shoulder as we moved together, surrounded by steam and salty air.

Braxton’s hands came to rest on my hips, holding me steady for a moment, then roamed up my sides, his thumbs grazing the undersides of my breasts before cupping them. He kissed along my collarbone, then moved lower. I leaned back to give him better access, my eyes fluttering shut when his mouth closed over one of my nipples.

It was slow, rhythmic—his lips, my breath, the quiet pulse of the ocean underneath us. Every time I rose and sank back down onto him, our movements mimicked the ocean. His hands moved to my thighs, caressing me in a possessive, almost desperate way.

I matched his pace, then picked it up. The water lifted me just enough to make everything glide flawlessly. I read every flicker in his eyes, every shift in the muscles of his shoulders. I knew him now—his body, his breath, the way everything tightened just before he lost control.

I loved watching him come undone.

When I started to move harder, faster, he gripped my waist and took over, pulling out to his tip and then thrusting back in, filling me completely. He kissed me so hard that I tasted every moan. I broke apart in his arms, burying my head in his neck, and seconds later, he followed—his body going rigid, then jerking as he held me through the last waves.

We stayed like that for a long time, letting the water settle around us.

He rested his forehead on mine. “You know”—he chuckled—“I think Nik would keel over if he walked in on us now.”

I snorted. “He wouldn’t survive the trauma.”

Braxton wrapped his arms around me again, and in the middle of the Atlantic, with no idea what the future would bring, we just held on to each other.

The morning sun streamed through the cabin’s porthole, casting a warm glow on the bed where Braxton and I lay entwined. His steady breathing tickled the nape of my neck, a comforting warmth that I wished could last forever. I closed my eyes, imagining a life where we could escape to a secluded island, free from the shadows that loomed over us. But reality tugged at the edges of my daydream. We had to get out of bed; there was too much to do today.

I shifted slightly, turning to face him. His eyes remained closed, but a contented smile played on his lips. I reached up, tracing a finger along his jawline before pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Braxton,” I whispered, “it’s time to wake up.”

He stirred, pulling me closer. “Mmm, five more minutes,” he murmured.

I chuckled softly. “If we had all the time in the world, I’d grant you that. But we need to get moving.”

He opened one eye, peering at me with mock annoyance. “You’re too practical for your own good.”

I smiled, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “And you’re too laid back for yours.”

He sighed, stretching his arms above his head before rolling out of bed. “All right, let’s face the day.”

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