Hemingway - Zoe Dawson Page 0,83

no idea when he would see her again…if ever.

“I got your package.”

She chuckled, and he squeezed her tight and said, “You are such a sass bucket.”

She buried her face in his neck, and he sighed as she kissed his throat, his jaw, then her mouth found his, the heavy pulse of desire beating immediately between them, the ache pushing beyond the heart.

He pulled her until she was straddling his lap, the privacy of the terrace cocooning them. Her string bikini was no barrier, as a few pulls released everything he wanted bared to him.

His hand swept over her hair, holding her face.

She smiled, her eyes a bit teary. “I really missed you,” she whispered.

His hold tightened at her words, something unraveling inside him. Her curves were delicious and the tactile feel of her was filled with familiarity and memory. She was bold, like she always was, taking what she wanted because this was all there was before she would be gone again. He buried his face in the curve of her throat, his hand soothing her spine. He stood as she clamped herself to him and shed his swim trunks.

Lowering them back to the couch, her breath panted as she guided him inside. He settled her legs around his waist and thrust.

The scent of musk rose around them. Stone hard, his dick pistoned in a pace he couldn’t control, and she opened to him, rising in rhythm to his lunges. Her body shuddered, releasing heat waves that doused him in flames. Her gasps filled the air. He was lost in her, tension low in his stomach, each motion thickening him, making every tiny sensation raw and primal. Tendrils of pleasure wrapped him, riding his spine, each eager thrust taking him to the edge.

She peaked, the release rippling through her as if it was a whole-body experience, her wild flex of muscles, the squeeze made him groan with savage pleasure as he climaxed, her gasping cry crashing through him. She grabbed his face, kissed him wildly and refused to let the moment fade. They were suspended for long, glorious seconds, fused before muscles started to relax again.

When he could catch his breath, he met her gaze, sweeping her hair off her face and kissing her softly. Damn, he wanted this woman for more than a stolen night. But the reality was harsh, their desires more than what they shared with their bodies.

It would have to be enough.

It would never be enough.

He rose and took her to the king bed where they made love all night long. In the gray rays of the morning, he woke to an empty space. A note lying on the pillow.

I can’t say goodbye to you, babe. That is beyond my capability. So, I sneak away before you wake to make it easier on me. I know that you, the type of man you are, will understand. Take good care. Stay safe and kick ass in the teams. They are lucky to have you. I’m so proud to have had time with you and maybe in the future we’ll meet again.

So long…Shea

It was as if everything caught up to him in one crashing moment. Becoming a SEAL, Honor Man, leaving his buddies, leaving his family, losing Shea—again. He buried his face in his hands and released the pressure in great gasping breaths and salty heat. Then he got back in his dry shorts and T-shirt, headed back to the barracks, showered and went out to lunch with his family.

So long, Shea.

15

One Year Later, Somewhere on the Amazon

“Dodger! What the fuck happened to the Zodiac?” Fast Lane said, low and intense.

“It must have gotten hit by a stray bullet,” Dodger said, frowning. “Bollocks! The motor’s dead, too.”

This was Hemingway’s first full, operational deployment, and he was having a blast. They were currently in the middle of the steamy jungle, on the edge of the mighty Amazon in Brazil after a sneak and peek for the DEA. They had a small cadre of drug runners trailing them after they had run into one of their patrols. Brazil was one of the countries considered to be in the transit zones for the movement of cocaine base, cocaine HCL, and heroin being shipped from Colombia and Peru to markets in the US and Europe as well as producers of coca leaves.

“We don’t have time to fix it. They’re on our heels,” Fast Lane growled. “We are not authorized to engage.” He turned to his teammates, all of them sweating freely in