Maverick (Elite Ops 2)

He inhaled sharply before swallowing past the thickness in his throat and shaking his head.

“We’ll talk about that later,” he promised her.

He had no intentions of discussing it. There was only one answer, only one conclusion to this.

“I know what you’ll do.” Her breath hitched as her tears filled her eyes again. “You’ll catch me asleep. Or in another room, and you’ll just walk away, won’t you?”

Micah could feel pieces of his soul breaking away, like a glacier cracking apart, piece by slow, agonizing piece.

He touched a tear that fell from her eye.

“I can’t say good-bye to you.” His hand cupped her cheek. “I can’t walk away while those beautiful eyes are begging me to stay. And I have no choice but to leave. We’ve always known, since that first night, that an end would come.”

She flinched at the softly spoken words and Micah felt the pain of them resounding through his entire being. If anything in his life had ever been worth fighting for, then it was Risa. But there was no way to fight the agreement he had made. He risked her life by risking his own if he attempted to defy it. And he risked everything that she loved about him if he tried to break the one bond that was his alone. His word.

She trembled beneath his hand, her lips quivering as she tried to control the cries he could feel welling inside her. Could he walk away if she cried? Could he deny her anything when faced with her tears?

But she didn’t cry. She drew in a ragged breath and nodded.

“Go,” she whispered.

“Risa.” He frowned, desperate to touch her one last time. To get the team out of her apartment, to hold her, to listen to her voice one last time as she cried out his name in passion before he was forced to walk away.

“Just go now,” she cried out roughly. “Leave me my pride, Micah. Get the hell out of my life now if you’re going to go. Don’t sit here and make me beg you to stay.”

He could hear the Durango team and the Elite Ops teams in the other room. Jordan’s voice bled into the room. Micah knew he was needed. They were going after Orion’s handler before dawn to learn his location.

Jordan was already pulling in information, tracking the assassin. Mac Knight was waiting in the other apartment, going over the pictures that had come through from the security camera on the elevator. They would have another identity on Orion soon.

And Risa needed to be debriefed. Micah couldn’t do that. Jordan and the federal attorney would handle that. Micah could be in the room, but he couldn’t touch her, couldn’t hold her to comfort her as she was forced to answer the questions that would come.

“I could stay till morning.” His jaw clenched as emotion swamped him and he saw the answer in her face.

“If you stay till morning you’ll destroy me,” she answered, her voice thick with the sobs she was fighting. “Please, Micah. If you’re leaving me in the morning, then leave now. Don’t wait until I’m asleep in your arms, or feeling the hope that you’ll stay. I couldn’t handle it.”

She’d already been forced to handle so much. And she had endured it. She had held her courage and her strength, and she had fought to survive.

He tucked the loose strand of her hair back behind her ear to reveal the gentle slope of her brow, her cheek. He feathered the backs of his fingers down the side of her face and once again marveled at the smooth, silken feel of her flesh.

“Please don’t…”

His head lowered. He couldn’t stay, though he knew his heart would always linger with her. His lips touched hers and desperation slammed into his head.

He’d meant to kiss her with gentleness. He’d meant to only brush her lips with his. But her lips parted and a muted sob tore at her chest. He’d already lost his heart and soul to her; he may as well lose his mind.

His lips parted over hers, his tongue slid inside, and the taste of sweet heated passion and a woman’s tears exploded against his taste buds.

A heavy groan tore from his throat. One hand gripped the back of her head, the other pressed into her back, pulling her against his chest as her head bent back beneath the force of his kiss.

He wanted to devour her. He wanted the taste of her seeped so deep inside him that he was never a moment without her.

The feel of her arms tightening around his neck, the sound of her sobbing moan of hunger, tore through him. Her lips opened to him like the petals of a flower to the sun as he slanted his lips over hers and tried to kiss her deeper, tried to draw her taste further into his senses.

He couldn’t let her go. He couldn’t walk away from her.

He couldn’t live his life without the feel of this, her hunger and her need flowing into his until he couldn’t breathe without the taste of her.

He stroked his hands beneath her shirt, felt the silky texture of her back. He couldn’t touch her enough. He couldn’t get enough of her.