Page 53 of Off the Grid
Then Leo lifted his hand to her cheek and ran the backs of his fingers over her skin in a gentle, coveting touch that made her feel more precious than she had in all her life. He leaned in, pressing his lips to hers, slowly, softly, deliberately, as though he waited for an answer to a question he’d forgotten to ask. She kissed him back, and that was response enough. Leo slipped his arms beneath her thighs and stood, bringing her with him. He turned and placed her gently on the island before stepping into the open place between her thighs. She arched up, refusing to let go of his lips. Leo was unhurried. His time as a marine had taught him too much control. He worked her into a frenzy, those burning hands touching every inch of her exposed skin, until she was so dizzy, her mind so full of stars, McKenzie couldn’t tell if her eyes were open or closed. His body was her road map and she slipped her hands lower and lower until finally, he gave in to the madness.
Just like that, he swept her off the table and carried her down the hall. They banged into one wall, then another, breaking apart at a loud crash. Their gazes met through soft candlelight, one word visible in both of their twinkling eyes.
Damages.
Leo shrugged. McKenzie grinned. They collided, meeting in the middle, and stumbled the rest of the way down the hall, smiling and kissing and laughing, until they fell onto the bed, and the world gave way to a different pleasure instead.
- 19 -
Leo
The steady beat of helicopter blades pounded in the distance. Leo looked past the blazing fire and the debris of the building to the black sky above.
“Chopper is almost here,” the sergeant said.
Leo shook his head, gaze returning to the open doorway glowing orange with the promise of flames. There were still two bodies unaccounted for inside, and he refused to leave them behind. “I’m going back in.”
“You’ve already been back in four times. The walls are about to collapse.”
“I’m going in.”
“I’ll go too,” another man said.
“Me too,” one more added.
“Go quick,” Sarg said. “The chopper won’t wait very long.”
It was too big of a target. Leo knew it and so did the two others, but they also knew the bodies of two marines closest to the blast still hadn’t been recovered. And their loved ones deserved to have a piece of them brought home.
Leo took the lead, and the other two men followed. They raced back into the flames, guns held aloft, night-vision goggles on. The previously crowded main hall had already been cleared of bodies, living and dead, so they ran quickly through, steadily progressing deeper. There were a few enemy men down, and they stepped over the still forms blanketed across the floor. The heat was overwhelming. The glare from the flames turned their goggles almost white. Leo ripped his off his head, blinking as the scorch hit, but at least he could see. When they got to the blast site, he signaled to the others to go through an open doorway to check for bodies, while he provided cover. They pulled a disfigured, charred form out a few moments later. The silver gleam of dog tags was all Leo needed to see. After they passed hand signals back and forth, one of the men peeled off to carry the body out while Leo and the other soldier proceeded forward. They found the final body around the next corner and each took a shoulder strap by the hand.
A man leapt onto Leo’s back.
Sharp metal nicked his throat. Before the knife could slice deep, he shuffled back, slamming the unseen attacker into a wall. The building groaned.
“Leo!”
“Go! Go!” he shouted.
Hands scratched at his skin, but he grabbed the knife, twisted it free, and slammed his elbow back, hitting ribs.
“Leo!”
He rolled, reached for his gun, and spun onto his back. Then he—
“Leo!”
He blinked and suddenly, the real world returned. There were no enemy fighters, no fires, no burning buildings. Just darkness and quiet and two big eyes looming over him.
“Leo,” McKenzie said, softer this time.
He didn’t move. His mind was still racing out of that building. His skin still itched with the heat of the fire.
“Leo.”
The cut on her forehead had started bleeding again, deep maroon in the shadows of the room. Her eyes softened, so sympathetic he had to look away. That was when he realized his fingers dug into her biceps, deep enough to bruise. Leo snapped them off with a sharp inhale. Was her skin darker than before? Had he left marks?
“What’d I do?”
