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Groaning, desperate for the feel of her, he bore her back on the bed, his lips taking hard, quick kisses before they settled against her again for another of the deep, drugging caresses that fueled his desire for her to a blazing level.
He pushed her thighs apart, settled his legs between them, and pressed the swollen length of his erection, covered by the black pants he wore, against the center of her thighs.
Grinding his cock against her, his hips shifting, rocking the thick flesh against her cotton-covered pussy, he groaned into her kiss.
Her knees lifted, bracketed his hips, moved with him as a strangled cry sounded in her chest.
He couldn’t get enough of her. This was the last touch he would have, the last taste. He wanted every second of it, every flavor of lust, desire and hunger, and love, that he could draw from the experience.
He could feel her beneath his flesh. He tried to press himself into her.
“No!” she cried out as he tore his lips from hers and let them travel down the arched column of her neck. “Don’t leave me, Micah. Don’t…”
She shook her head as he pressed his forehead into her shoulder. Micah could feel her body trembling, shuddering as she fought to hold back her pleas.
“Ani ohev otach.” I love you. “Me’achshav ve’ad hanetzach.” From now to eternity.
He tore himself away from her.
His breathing rough, heavy, he watched as she rolled to her side, her back to him, her face buried against a pillow as her shoulders tightened, tensing against her tears, he knew.
“Risa…”
“Go!” she cried out desperately. “Just go. Please God, Micah. Just go.”
He slid the pendant from the pocket of his pants and laid it on the bedside table after running his thumb over it. Regret slammed inside him with a brutality that nearly stole his breath.
“Dream big, love,” he whispered as he gazed down at her. “Dream enough for both of us.”
Turning, he moved to the door, jerking it open, and strode into the living room. A heavy silence filled the room as
too many eyes watched him. He stalked past the broken door and moved down the hall.
“Micah, we’re meeting here in five minutes,” Jordan’s voice carried to him as he neared the elevator.
Micah paused. He didn’t turn back.
“Find someplace else to meet,” he ordered his commander. “I’m out of here.”
He didn’t take the elevator. He pushed through the stairwell exit and took the stairs. Within seconds he was pushing through the back exit and entering the parking lot where the vans were parked. The vans and his replacement car.
He moved to the sedan, unlocked it, and settled into the seat as the overhead clouds opened up and rain poured around him.
He stared at the sheets of moisture washing over the windshield, unblinking. It reminded him of Risa’s tears.
It reminded him of dreams he hadn’t known he had, and ones he hadn’t imagined he would ever want.
He closed his eyes, and just for a second he let himself imagine. Imagine the house of her dreams, her laughter in the yard as he watched her, her body heavy with his child. She would glow like the brightest star. Her eyes would fill with love and laughter; her expression would be serene with the dreams that surrounded them. She would soothe him after a mission, be waiting for him, arms wide open.
He wouldn’t be a Maverick in her eyes; he would simply be Micah. Her husband. Her lover.
The image dissipated at the sound of a heavy knock on the passenger window. He opened his eyes, breathed out a heavy sigh, and disengaged the lock.
Tehya slid in.
She tossed the wet jacket that covered her head to the backseat and stared out the windshield as he had.
“We need a drink,” she stated.
