He leaned against the wall and smiled at her. “As I recall, there’s a post-combat exercise you might enjoy. You know…because you like traditions.”

He ran a finger over her slick shoulder, traced over her collarbone, and circled a lush breast.

Her nipple tightened.

Her beautiful brown eyes dropped to where his dick was lengthening.

“It’s traditional, hmm?” Her voice had turned husky.

“Oh, yeah.” His heart rate was increasing.

“Well. I’m an old-fashioned girl.” She curled her hand around his erection and squeezed.

His cock turned hard enough to break rocks.

“But I’m new to fighting.” She pumped him once and then rubbed her thumb over the head. “Perhaps you could show me the…tradition…of which you speak?”

He chuckled. “I can take this duty on, I suppose.”

The rest of the shower was a blur of sensations. Her breasts, heavy in his hands. The velvety feel of her nipples. The taste of her, warm and wet on his tongue. The way her hands gripped his head, holding him to her as she cried out and came. The sweetness of her mouth closing on him—and her curse when he pulled away and lifted her…high enough to impale on his cock. Her gasp, and the tension, then reception of her body around him, welcoming him. How she wrapped arms and legs around him, enfolding him in heat—and love—as he gave her all that he was.

Chapter Twenty-Three

In a forest, keep your focus wide. Take it all in—the sounds of birds and insects, every set of tracks, the smells, how the vegetation moves in the wind. Then, if something is wrong—if there’s an ambush set up—you’ll know. Do that same shit when you’re looking at a person. ~ First Sergeant Michael “Mako” Tyne

That evening, Frankie slid out of Bull’s pickup and was grateful he’d parked it right by the back door of the municipal building. Her leg hurt like someone was stabbing her calf with a knife. Maybe she should have brought her jo and used it as a cane.

She’d have to remember when she visited the hospital tomorrow. Earlier, she’d called, and the nurse had said the swelling in Kit’s brain was going down, and she’d probably be allowed to wake up tomorrow some time. That she was doing all right.

Kit was going to live. Frankie clung to the door a minute and blinked away the blurriness in her vision.

As Bull came around the vehicle, she noticed the uniformed state trooper at the back door was frowning at them. The building was well guarded. When they drove past on Main Street, there had been a couple of troopers barring the way to the front door.

The trooper came down a step. “I’m sorry, people, but only authorized persons—”