“You're thinking too much,” he said softly. “I can see it. All those calculations. All those odds.”
“Someone has to.”
“Not right now.” His other hand pressed against my chest, over my heart. “Right now, you just need to trust we'll come back.”
“Sebastian—”
“Shut up.” He leaned in, breath warm against my mouth. “Let me have this. One moment before we walk into hell.”
His lips found mine. Soft at first, testing, then deeper when I opened for him. His tongue swept inside, claiming, tasting, reminding me why dying tonight would be the worst possible outcome. I grabbed his hips, pulled him closer, felt his body press against mine, all heat and solid muscle and the promise of everything I couldn't afford to want.
He kissed me like he was trying to memorize the shape of my mouth. Like this might be the last time. His hands were in my hair, gripping, holding me exactly where he wanted me. I could taste coffee on his tongue. Could feel his pulse hammering where my palm pressed against his throat.
“You do not play fair,” I muttered against his lips.
“Never said I would.” He kissed me again, harder this time, teeth catching my bottom lip, tongue soothing the sting. “Besides, you like it when I don't.”
He wasn't wrong.
I grabbed the tactical vest off my chair, broke the kiss before I forgot why we were here. “We need to move. Window closes in ten minutes.”
“Then stop kissing me and gear up.” His smirk was wicked. Dangerous. The kind that got people killed in interesting ways.
I grabbed my gear. Two pistols. Suppressor. Spare magazines. Tactical knife. Everything I needed to paint walls red if diplomacy failed. Sebastian helped me with the vest, his fingers brushing against my chest as he secured the straps, lingering longer than necessary.
“You're trying to distract me,” I said.
“Is it working?”
“Da.”
“Good.” He leaned in, lips brushing my ear. “Stay alive tonight, Viktor. I have plans for you when we get back.”
The promise in his voice sent heat straight through me. “What kind of plans?”
“The kind that require a bed. And privacy. And you making those sounds you pretend you don't make when I touch you.”
Christ.
I grabbed his wrist, pulled him close enough to feel every word. “Then you better keep up. Because I am not slowing down for you out there.”
“Wouldn't dream of asking you to.” His hand found the back of my neck, fingers threading through my hair. “We do this together. Like everything else.”
“Together,” I agreed.
“Noah,” I said into the comm. “We are moving.”
“Copy. I've got eyes on the building. Two patrols. One at the north entrance, one circling the perimeter. Window's in three minutes when they rotate.”
We headed for the garage. Sebastian's hand found mine in thecorridor, laced our fingers together. Just for a moment. Just long enough to feel real.
“If this goes wrong—” he started.
“It will not.”
“But if it does?—”
I stopped walking. Turned to face him. “It will not. Because I have plans too. And they all require you alive.”
