Page 89 of Broken Sentinel

His hand slides from my hair down my neck, then lower, palm skimming the side of my breast in a touch that's tentative at first, then more confident when I arch into it. Even through my shirt, the contact sends sparks shooting through me, my enhanced senses making everything feel absolutely addictive. I gasp against his mouth, breaking the kiss only to trail my lips along his jaw, down to the pulse point at his neck where I can taste the salt of his skin.

"Zara," he breathes, my name like a prayer on his lips. His hands grow bolder, one slipping beneath the hem of my shirt to find bare skin. The direct contact of his fingers on my waist nearly undoes me, every nerve ending firing at once, my modified senses making each touch feel like a brand. “Oh fuck.”

I pull back just enough to see his face, finding his eyes heavy-lidded and dark with want, pupils so dilated there's only a thin ring of gray around the black. His lips are swollen from our kisses, a flush spreading across his cheekbones. I've never seen Trent—controlled, regulated, perfect Sentinel Trent—so undone. The sight sends another wave of desire surging through me.

"I've thought about this," I confess, voice husky and barely recognizable. "For years."

"Every day," he admits, the naked honesty in his voice nearly breaking something inside me. "Every mission, every sync session, every time you were close enough to touch but I couldn't?—"

I silence him with another kiss, this one desperate and hungry, my hands dropping to his chest and feeling the thundering of his heart beneath my palms. His muscles jump and tense under my touch as I explore, learning the contours of his body in ways three years of partnership never allowed.

You can touch me now, I think.

His hands grip my hips, pulling me fully into his lap so I'm straddling him, the position bringing us into perfect alignment. Even through layers of clothing, the pressure and friction draw shocked gasps from us both. My body moves instinctively, rolling against him as his hands guide my hips in a rhythm that sends pleasure spiraling through me.

I’m so sensitive now that I feel I’m borderline feral, like I might just come if we keep going, if he keeps rocking me against his length like this, even through our clothes.

We're so lost in each other that we almost miss the sound, a distinctive electronic hum cutting through the night air. Almost, but not quite. Even passion can't override our training completely.

It disappears but brings us back into the present.

Holy fucking hell.

"That wasn't protocol-approved," I manage, trying for lightness despite the heat coursing through me.

A rare, full smile transforms his features. "I'm not a Sentinel anymore, remember?"

"Neither am I," I whisper, leaning in again.

But before I can kiss him, before my body demands to get off right here and now, the sound comes back.

We break apart, instantly alert. Trent's hand goes to his weapon, mine to the knife Vex gave me.

"Drone," Trent whispers, strength returning with adrenaline.

"Unity design," I confirm, identifying the sound pattern. "Search class."

The moment shatters as reality crashes back. We're still hunted. Still in danger. Still on mission.

No matter what my newly enhanced and sensitive body tries to say.

When Vex returns minutes later with fresh water, he finds us in defensive positions, all traces of our intimate moment erased except for the lingering heat in my cheeks and the way Trent's eyes keep finding mine.

"Unity drone, half kilometer east," I report. "Just passed over but could return."

If Vex notices the charged atmosphere, he doesn't comment. "Camp's not secure anymore. We need to move."

"Where to?" I ask, helping Trent to his feet. He's steadier now, the detox compound having done its work.

"I discovered something while scouting," Vex says. "An old bunker. Pre-collapse military by the look of it. Shielded from scans."

"Lead the way," Trent says, his voice back to mission-professional though his fingers brush mine briefly as we gather our gear.

As we move through the darkness toward this new shelter, I can't help the confusion swirling through me. My body bears the imprint of Trent's touch, my lips still tingling from his kiss. Yet ahead walks Vex, whose fierce protection and understanding of my changing nature has created its own powerful connection.

Unity Sentinel and Wasteland Splinter. My past and my possible future. Both risking everything to keep me safe.

And me, caught between them, still discovering what I truly am and what I truly want.

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