Hot Zone (Elite Force 2)

“Aiden? You don’t need to apologize to me.” She stroked away his damned tears.

Shit. “Yes, I do. I love you and you deserve a helluva lot better from me.”

He scrubbed a wrist over his face and pulled himself together. Or tried to. He didn’t have jack shit emotionally to give Lisabeth right now, especially not some touchy-feely reassuring words. He didn’t trust himself to speak, since God only knew what else would come pouring out of his mouth against his will now the lid was off. So he held her closer, sprinkled kisses across her forehead, over her eyes, until he brushed her mouth.

She gasped softly. “Are you sure this is what you want right—?”

“Shhh…” He silenced her with another kiss. Undoubtedly, she would have other questions she wanted to ask, and he owed her more than he’d given tonight. “I’m talked out for now. Later, okay? Anything you want to talk about, just later.”

“All right,” she whispered, her lips moving against his.

Again he kissed her, so damn thankful she understood. Her fingers slid from his arms around to his shoulders, her mouth parting—the kiss, the connection changing. He shoved aside any hesitation. The best realization of all was that now that she was already pregnant, no need to be careful. That freedom sent him into overdrive. He couldn’t deny the need to claim her after the things he’d said that drove a wedge between them.

One kittenish sigh from her was the only encouragement he needed to roll to his side, pull her more firmly against him. Passion flamed inside him, sparking in the air until he was almost certain he could see the static energy snapping through the van. She draped her slim, long leg over his, locking him to her. He hadn’t been planning on making love when he’d scrounged up this place for them to sleep, away from the crowded tents full of cots. He’d been more concerned with finding a way to ease the dark circles under Lisabeth’s exhausted eyes.

But now that she moved against him, tugging at his shirt, he couldn’t think of anything except having her. Here. Now. Watching her come again and again, giving them both at least a temporary escape.

The moonlight outside was muted by the tinted windows, but let in enough light for him to see the shadowy writhing of his wife’s beautiful body. The spiral curl she could never quite keep out of her eyes. The long elegant neck that made her look like a foreign princess.

And thanks to those darkened windows, the place was private. The doors were locked, and the night was cool enough to be comfortable. The scent of bleach from the fabric bedrolls eased the thick air that made standing outside damn near unbearable.

His hand nowhere near surgeon steady, he tunneled inside her shirt, loose surgical scrubs, until he found the soft curve of her breast. And then touching her wasn’t enough anymore. He had to see her. Taste her.

He swept off her top and palmed her br**sts with a satisfied growl—cut off as she hooked her finger along the waistband of his pants, the tip of her finger brushing the head of his throbbing hard-on. But he wasn’t off balance long. He teased her ni**les with his thumb and forefinger. The tightening, her moans, the restless thrash of her head against the bedroll, urged him on as he lowered his face to take the pebbly crest into his mouth.

He knew every inch of her well, but now noticed the changes pregnancy had already begun to bring. The increased fullness—and sensitivity—of her breasts.

Her body moved against him with a sleek familiarity that never failed to turn him inside out. And she was even more stunning now than when he’d met her. A lithe exotic beauty, she’d glided into his life during fall semester, senior year in college. He couldn’t even remember which class, because the second he’d seen her, his mind had short-circuited until he was oblivious to anything else around him.

He did remember exactly what she’d worn—gray workout tights and a pink tank top. She’d told him later how she’d overslept that day and come straight to class in the clothes she’d worn pulling an all-nighter study session. But God, the way she’d carried off the most casual clothes with a regal grace… He’d wanted that serenity in his life, wrapped all around him, like now.

And she seemed every bit as eager for this stolen night together, a chance to block out the world and forget everything except each other. He slid down her scrubs, and as she kicked them free of her ankles, he yanked aside his own pants. He lived to lose himself inside her. And there was no way in hell he would risk losing her.

His hands shook all over again. To think how close he’d come to doing just that, to screwing up the life they’d built together. He stroked reverently along her side, over her hip, savoring the warm caramel sheen of her skin.

A purr rising from the back of her throat, she clasped him, stroked the length of him with her thumb gliding over the tip, spreading the dampness for a slicker glide again and again. Arching her hips closer, the soft curls between her legs teased along his erection, invited him to take this further.

Still lying side by side, he pressed inside her, slowly, careful of her pregnancy. And as much as she said she didn’t need to be treated like spun glass, he was careful. Treated her with reverence.

She was perfection to him.

The satin heat of her flesh clamped around him as he thrust, drawing him in over and over, closer to her, both physically and in other ways. Something had shifted between them tonight. She’d reached inside of him with her words and her love, touching parts of him that had been walled off for years.

Her leg draped over him, she dug her heel into his ass, locking them tighter together as their hips rocked, as he angled in just the way he knew made her breath hitch. She bit her bottom lip, her head thrown back, enticing him to nip, lick, kiss his way up to her ear. He cupped the back of her head, his fingers combing into her hair as he guided her toward him.

He burned to see her eyes as he moved inside her, wanted her to see how crazy with desire she made him. No walls tonight. No holding back.

Her lashes fluttered open, her brown eyes turning that sensual shade of golden just for him. He didn’t know why she’d stayed with him, why she still held strong to him, but she did. The way she loved him humbled him and lifted him at the same time. In her elegant, serene way, she demanded he give all—in life and in bed.

Like now.

And as he watched her expression, the love he saw there rocketed through him, knocking him over the edge and into a shattering release. And damn it all, he wouldn’t go there alone, refused to finish without her, because nothing in his life meant a thing without Lisabeth.

He pumped through his release, driving her, urging her to—Her blissful cry flowed over his ears, her arms and legs spasming around him as she found her release. He took her mouth and her sighs, whispering her name as she cried out his until the last ripple shuddered through him.

Lisabeth rolled to her back, her arm flung over her face as she panted. Her body shivered in a way he knew meant even the brush of air was almost too much for her skin in the aftermath of a powerful orgasm.

Words… he needed to find some, preferably coherent ones to say how much she meant to him. But his brain wouldn’t engage. His senses were still immersed in the scent of their mingled sweat, the feel of her skin against his, the musical tone of his name from her lips.