“People say war is bad, evil, and that’s true. Men who’ve been to war know that better than anybody. But what civilians will never understand is the fucking rush war brings with it. Not because it feels good to cause harm. Not because we’re sadists who want to hurt people. But because we’re alive, truly alive, in a way few people ever experience. To live in that moment – and that moment alone – it’s a rare thing. It’s hard to explain.”
She keeps staring, her eyes filled with patience.
“And yet I feel it with you,” I say passionately.
She flinches, those cute naive eyes going wide.
There’s a vestige of suspicion in her then, as though a piece of her still thinks this could be a joke. I watch her visibly push it away, stunned that I can read her so easily.
But then, of course, I can.
We were made for each other.
“Really?” she whispers.
“Yes,” I snarl. “That was what struck me so damn profoundly when I walked into the diner and saw you standing there… standing there like you’d been waiting your whole life for me.”
“I have,” she says, voice cracking with emotion.
“The same focus came over me. I can’t explain it. I just know it’s true. It was the feeling that nothing else mattered anymore, at that moment. Of course, Angela matters. But nothing else. Just me. Just you. Just our family.”
I reach over and brush budding tears from her cheek with my thumb, feeling the heat of her, burning through my skin and simmering up my arm.
“Come on, Snapshot,” I say. “Let’s eat our food before it gets cold.”
“I feel the same,” she murmurs as we turn to our plates. “I can’t explain it either, but I feel it. Just me. Just you. Just us.”
“Forever,” I growl, knowing how true it is.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Tessa
“Do you mind if we take a short walk?” I murmur after dinner.
All through our meal – as the drone delivered more drinks and some dessert – Trent continued to watch me with possessive need in his emerald eyes. It’s burned into me deeper and deeper with each passing moment, causing an answering song to flare awake inside of me.
I know where he wants to go.
The cabin, the bed, collapsing into each other as though this is a battle and the rest of the world can wait.
And I want it too.
My body screams for it.
But nerves still try to twist inside of me, working their way into my conviction, poisoning it.
“Sure,” he says. “But are you sure you’re wearing the right shoes?”
“Hey.” I mock-glare at him, loving the way he smirks back banteringly. “I’m a big girl. You don’t need to worry about me.”
He chuckles and stands up, striding around the table and standing over me. His face is one of complete concentration, as though a forest fire could be blazing around our platform and he wouldn’t even flinch.
“Come on then, Snapshot, show me how capable you really are.”
I take his hand, squeezing tightly, savoring the feeling of strength and protective security in his touch.
He pulls me to my feet and I collapse against him, grabbing his chest for balance. I dig my fingernails through his shirt and feel how solid his pectoral muscles are, huge and throbbing and powerful.
Then his lips are on mine, our tongues warring, the whole world sinking away except for the sensation of our mouths fused together. He growls through the kiss as the heat shimmers across my cheeks and down my neck and over my breasts, through my belly and into my sex, buzzing, humming, claiming.
I gasp and move my hands up, over his muscled back, through his silver peppered hair.
“I need you,” he growls, keeping his lips close to mine when the kiss naturally breaks off.
“I need you too,” I gasp. “But I want to let my food go down.”
He knows it’s an excuse, a half-truth – not quite a lie – but he accepts it and takes a step back.
“It’s a shame you don’t have your camera,” he says as he leads me off the platform, his hand squeezing mine tightly, sending me signals of his own with his closeness.
“It’s okay. I don’t have to capture every moment. Some things should just be lived, you know?”
“I understand that well. I don’t want to share this moment with anybody except for you. But I’m not a super-talented photographer. You are.”
I giggle, delight whelming inside of me, as we walk away from the cabin and toward the trees. The light is hazy, but the pines let in enough moonlight and starlight so we can see where we’re going… or, at least, so my sharp-eyed SEAL can see where we’re going.
I hold him, captivated by trust.
I’d let this man lead me anywhere.
“I don’t know about that,” I say.
“I do,” he growls. “You’re going to be a success, Tessa. And I’ll support you every step of the way. If you ever need help with equipment, software, anything… just let me know.”
“You’d do that?” I say, leaves crunching beneath our feet, a soft wind purring over my skin and enhancing the feeling of pleasure ignited by his proximity.
“Of course,” he growls. “There’s no question about it. You deserve to be able to fully express your talent. The world deserves it.”
“I don’t know if I’d feel comfortable taking your money, though,” I murmur.
He stops and turns to me, grabbing my hips and pulling me tight next to him. His manhood pressed against my belly, engorged and enflamed and burning with his seed, my womb singing an answering song in needy tones.
“It’s not just my money. We’re a partnership now. I own you. But you own me too. Don’t let silly thoughts like
