Maverick (Elite Ops 2)

He shook his head, unable to answer his own questions.

“Think about it, Micah,” Noah said softly. “Just think about it.”

Hours later he was still thinking about it. That evening as the helicopter flew them back into base in Big Bend National Park, it was still weighing on him.

His flesh felt too tight over his bones. The need for Risa’s taste, for her touch, was a fever burning inside him. Orion was over. He was gone. The nightmares of her past were finished; all that was left was any lingering nightmares she had.

And Micah wanted to be there. If she cried in the night, he wanted to be the one to hold her, to soothe her.

In the showers he washed the grime and blood from his body. He remembered her touch, her scent, and felt his cock thickening in torturous need. He spent too many nights like this, aching for her, needing her.

He laid his head against the cement wall of the shower and grimaced. He’d spent too many days and nights trapped inside this fucking mountain. He wanted to feel the sun on his face. He wanted to hold Risa in his arms, love her as the warmth of the coming spring days began to warm the land.

He wanted her. He was fucking dying without her.

He rinsed the soap from his hair and dried it quickly. He jerked his clothes on, his boots. In his locker he dragged out his jacket, wallet, cash, and credit cards.

“Going somewhere, Maverick?”

He turned his head and almost growled like a damned animal as Jordan leaned against the end of the lockers and arched his brow curiously.

“Jacket, wallet, cash, and cards. Looks like a long unauthorized trip to me.”

Micah shoved his wallet in his back pocket with the cards; the cash he shoved into the front pocket. The keys he kept in his hand as he pulled on the jacket.

“I’m due leave,” he informed the other man. “Six weeks’ worth. I’m taking it.”

“We have another mission going out in a matter of days,” Jordan stated. “We need you there.”

“Too bad. I remember the contract,” he snarled. “Six fucking weeks.”

Jordan pursed his lips thoughtfully. “You have to sign out and list your destination as well as your intended activities while you’re gone.”

“Guess,” Micah growled.

“It’s against the rules, Micah,” Jordan reminded him. “No weakness, remember? What is a woman if she’s not a weakness?”

Micah walked slowly along the corridor created by the lockers until he stood only feet from his commander.

“She’s mine.”

Jordan’s brows lifted. “Really? And the papers you signed state that you belong to the Elite Ops. Not a woman.”

“Don’t fuck with me,” Micah leaned closer and hissed the demand. “I signed the agreement. Twelve years or until death. You want your twelve years? Don’t stand in my way.”

“You’ll go rogue then?” Jordan asked dangerously.

Micah almost laughed. “No, Jordan, I won’t go rogue. I’ll catch a bullet and I won’t give a damn if I come back from it. I can’t fight without her. There’s your destination and your intent. See you in six weeks.”

“Say hello to Abigail for me,” Jordan called back. “Ask nicely and Reno might give you a ride in the helicopter waiting to take him home as well.”

Micah lengthened his steps, heading for the stairs that led to the ground level of the base. The helicopter was waiting to fly Reno back to Georgia, and back to his wife and son. That same helicopter would take Micah back to the dream that he had thought he could live without.

What fools men could be, he thought. To think he could live without his heart, without the part of his spirit that he gave to his woman. How insane had he been to believe he could ever live without Risa when in truth, he hadn’t known what living was until he learned what loving her meant?

AS HE ENTERED the ground floor of the base he saw Reno and Noah talking. Neither man looked happy. Micah moved down the stairs, aware of both of them watching him, glaring at him.

“I’m sharing your copter,” he informed Reno. “Are you ready to fly?”