Page 61 of Lethal Illusion

“Yeah.”She knew what he meant but her brain was too fried to put it into words.

Navarre ran a hand down the length of her back, and she arched against him like a cat.It felt like the most natural thing in the world to lay naked beside him.For the life of her, she couldn’t remember the last time her muscles were this relaxed.She rested a hand on his chest and let out a soft sigh of contentment, all the while refusing to acknowledge the deepening feelings that lurked beneath the surface.

“Get some sleep,” he said.

Oh, hell no.That so wasn’t happening.If they only had one night together, she didn’t want to waste a single second on trivial things like sleep.“We still have another condom.”

“I know.That’s why I want you to rest and recharge.”The smile he gave was pure sin, and her molten insides started to burn again.“The night’s young, and I have plans.”

Chapter 19

Toriffonaquote from one of his favorite movies: Navarre had fallen victim to a classic blunder, on par with getting involved in a land war in Asia, by assuming one night with Sloane could possibly be enough to get her out of his system.

Even though the sex was nothing short of earth-shattering, it hadn’t been what ultimately doomed him.It was all the other stuff that came in between: the talking, the laughing, the exchanging of stories.They dragged him in deeper, strengthened their connection, and, for the life of him, he had no idea how they could ever go back to being nothing more than colleagues.

The first rays of morning light crept through a tiny gap in the curtains.The worst of the storm had finally passed.It was still raining, but it no longer sounded as though they might need to build an ark.But with each agonizing tick of the clock, Navarre became increasingly aware that his time with Sloane was coming to an end.

He’d been a fool to think one evening with her would leave him sated.To the contrary, it made things worse.She’d ignited something deep within him, stirring his heart as well as his blood, and he struggled for a way to contain it.

For now, he chose the coward’s way out and forced the unpleasant reality from his mind, determined not to ruin their last precious moments together.He skimmed one hand along the curve of her hip, and she made one of those husky sounds that never failed to turn him on.“Funny, I always assumed you were inked.”

She tilted her neck to peer up at him.“Why, because of the piercings?”

He shrugged.“I don’t know.I guess you seemed like the type.”

She made a soft sound of amusement.“I’ve thought about it from time to time, but I never could decide what to get or where to put it.I mean, if it’s going to be on my body for the rest of my life, I don’t want to regret it in a year or two.”

“Makes sense.”

“What about you?”she asked.“I don’t see any tats on you either.”

“No, I figured Jackson had enough for both of us.”He’d considered it on multiple occasions, especially when Jackson or one of the other guys in their unit got inked.Fear of missing out, and all that happy shit.But he’d ultimately decided against it, because his job as a sniper had relied on his ability to blend in with his environment, to be able to fade into the background, and what was the point in getting a tat if it had to be in a place where nobody ever saw it?

She laughed softly as she nestled into the crook of his shoulder and rested a hand on his chest.“You guys have been friends for a long time, right?”

He nodded.“We met in the Army.Been friends ever since.He’s saved my life more times than I can count.As far as I’m concerned, he’s family.”

It had taken him years to work through the grief of losing his biological family.Jackson’s friendship and unwavering loyalty had been a huge first step.Then they’d left the Army and started working at Six Points, and his surrogate family had grown larger, filling the void left by his blood relatives.They’d given him camaraderie, a sense of purpose, and a framework of support that he hadn’t experienced since his father disowned him.To lose that for a second time would be catastrophic.He’d do everything in his power to ensure that never happened to him again.

Sloane let out a sigh of contentment, and the urge to take her again rose in his blood.Actually, the urge had been there for quite some time, but now it had grown too insistent for him to deny.

Her fingers traced the motley assortment of scars along his shoulder, pale against his tanned skin.“How’d you get these?”

Navarre glanced down at the scars, and a few choice images from the worst day in his life flashed through his mind.He still had nightmares about Wanesh, though their frequency had diminished over time.“Insurgents attacked an outpost I was stationed at.One of their mortars blew up the ammo depot.Killed eight guys in my unit.If I hadn’t been wearing Kevlar, it would have been nine.It took us eighteen hours of nonstop fighting to beat them back.”

Her eyes widened.“God, that must have been terrifying.”

“It was at first, but you reach a point where you get too scared to be scared, and all of your training kicks into place and you do whatever needs to be done.”

She went quiet for nearly a minute as she processed what he’d said.Her fingers drifted lower, to the jagged line along his torso.“What happened with this one?”

“The Blackhawk helicopter I was riding in got hit by a rocket and crash-landed.I got knocked unconscious, so I don’t remember much after that, but somewhere along the line, I caught a piece of shrapnel.”

She moved to a series of puncture marks on his forearm.“And this one?”

He sighed, because those ones were kind of embarrassing.“Are you going to ask about the origins of every scar on my body?I can think of better things to do with our time.”

“They’re a tapestry of your life.I can’t help but be curious about them.”

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