Page 33 of Dagger

They left the roof, but he didn’t let her go. He kept his arm around her all the damn way, finally leading her down the hall to her room, keeping her body close, warm, achingly familiar. When they reached her door, she turned to him, something quiet and searching in her expression.

He didn’t hesitate.

Dagger cupped her jaw, tilted her face up to his, and kissed her. Slow, deep, lingering.

It was different from before, not frantic, not desperate. Just real.

A promise and he damn well fulfilled this one all the way to the top.

Quinn felt it. He knew she did, because when she pulled back, her breath shuddered against his lips, her fingers curling into his shirt like she wasn’t ready to let go.

Then, without a word, she reached for the door handle, tugging it open.

She backed into the room, her eyes still locked on his, silent invitation written in every part of her.

Dagger’s hands clenched at his sides, his body going taut. Goatfuck danger! Back up. Get out of there…fucking incoming!

“I love your impulses,” he said, voice rough with restraint. “Especially this one.” His lips quirked slightly. “Don’t mistake my resistance for disinterest, Quinn.” His breath hitched. “I want to fuck you so bad right now, it’s physicallypainful.” His entire body was a live wire, tight with need, his muscles locked so hard they ached. His cock throbbed, pressing uncomfortably against the unforgiving fabric of his pants, every pulse a demand he couldn’t answer. His skin was too hot, his breath uneven, his restraint stretched to the breaking point,painfulwasn’t just a word, it was a goddamnstate of being.

She exhaled hard. His fingers brushed the doorframe, one goatfuck away from stepping inside and blowing all the progress they were making. It was excruciating but necessary, and when they did hash all their baggage out, taking her, consuming her,fuckingher would be so much more satisfying. “But we have so much shit between us,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, raw with honesty. “It would be a mistake.”

She swallowed hard, emotion flickering in her gaze.

“Bear with me,” he said, searching her face. “I know this is hard, and we’ve—” His voice broke. He exhaled roughly, closing his eyes for a second, pulling himself together. “We’ve been atwar,” he said, steadier this time. “Neither one of us has really mourned, which is another damn discussion. We’ve hurt each other. That doesn’t disappear overnight.” Quinn’s fingers tightened on the doorframe, her knuckles white.

Then she looked up at him. He saw it. The shadows in her eyes. The hesitation. The thing she hadn’t said yet. Dagger’s stomach dropped. “Brian,” he said softly. Her breath hitchedhard. Her gaze immediately dropped, her shoulders stiffening. She turned away, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I can’t talk about that yet.”

Dagger inhaled slowly, nodding once, even though she wasn’t looking at him. “We’ll leave it for another time,” he said quietly. “But we can’t move forward until we discuss everything, babe.” His voice was gentle but firm. “Everything.”

A beat of silence. Then, finally, she nodded. That was enough. For now. He exhaled, stepping back from the door.

“Get inside,” he ordered, voice gruff. “Lock it.” Quinn hesitated, lingering in the doorway, watching him with that same unreadable look.

Then, voice low and trembling, she whispered, “Goodnight, Dagger.”

He dragged a hand through his hair, his whole body still tight with restraint. “Get inside and close this door,” he repeated, his voice sharper this time. Then, muttering under his breath,“Before I lose my shit and fuck you anyway.”

Quinn’s breath stuttered. But she obeyed. The door clicked shut, the lock turning with a quietsnick. Dagger stood there for a long moment, exhaling roughly, pressing a hand against the wall.Sonavabitch. If they survived this deployment, he was going to deserve a goddamn medal.

He turned toward his quarters, moving on pure muscle memory as chaos churned through his brain. But he didn’t sleep. Brian’s name was like an unexploded grenade. Quinn held the pin.

Dagger lay on his back, eyes on the ceiling, bleeding from wounds no one could see. Her voice, her sobs, Brian’s name. All of it looped through his mind like a goddamn torture reel.

He could still feel her. Taste her. The heat of her body burned on his skin, her touch ghosting along his jaw like a brand. The way her breath caught when he’d said Brian’s name.

It sat in his chest like a live round. Lodged too deep to dig out.

Because tonight, it wasn’t just her ghost he was fighting.

It was Brian’s.

His brother. His goddamn hero.

The man he’d followed into war. The man he’d lost.

The man whose wife he wanted.

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