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“No, but I’m giving you the option.”
Sage nodded, took her empty glass and placed it in the sink, then headed down the hallway to his bedroom. Dante didn’t follow. Not yet.
Both of them needed some time to process after what they’d witnessed in the bunker.
He heard the floorboards in his bedroom creak and then the sound of his shower running.
A small smile graced his face.
Picturing Sage in his shower made Dante’s dick thicken but he knew he was too tired to make a move. Fucking would have to wait until another day. They both needed sleep.
He swallowed down the rest of his drink. Then he shut down all the lights and checked his phone one last time. Thankfully it was silent.
The sounds coming from his bedroom ceased.
He walked in to find Sage already under the covers, her eyes closed, her long hair fanned out on his pillow.
Why did she look so fucking good in his bed? And why did Dante want to curl up beside her?
He shook his head and headed for the shower. Throwing off all his clothes, he stepped under the hot spray and let the stress of the past few days wash away.
Ten minutes later, he slid under his sheets.
Sage’s eyes opened and the second his gaze met hers, he was on her.
So much for being tired…
He cupped her face and took her lips slowly, softly this time. Languid, like they had all the time in the world. Dante savored every taste, knowing that this was probably the last time. When this war was over, Sage would be gone from his life for good, and Dante would be alone again.
Like always. It was fine. He didn’t need anyone.
Especially a woman who was making him feel all kinds of things he had no business feeling.
Still, the haunting look in her eyes had his chest squeezing painfully.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Sage shook her head. “Not sure I’ll ever be the same again, but I knew that going into this thing.”
“It’s not too late to walk away. You’d be safer back in B.C.”
Leaving would be safer for Sage. Safer for him, too. For his head, for his heart…
His heart? Where the fuck did that come from?
“I’d be safer but still frustrated and angry,” Sage replied. “I just can’t let Rosemary go. Not until her killer gets what’s coming to them.”
Dante nodded. He understood her grief and her desire for vengeance. Then he rolled away from her and stuck to his side of the bed. It wasn’t easy when everything in his body was screaming at him to touch her. The need was so bad it felt like his skin was too tight for his bones. He ignored his hard-on, his desire to be near Sage, and closed his eyes.
“I get it,” he whispered into the dark. “I lost too many friends during my time in the marines. The pain doesn’t lessen, it just dulls over time. But it’s always there, just under the surface.”
“Like the tattoos you’ve etched on your body in their memory.”
Dante cleared the lump in his throat and managed to reply. “Yeah. I lost three buddies when I was serving in the Middle East. All with the same unit. Now I carry their names on my skin.”
“Do you mind if I ask what happened?” Sage asked in that husky voice of hers. It soothed him more than he cared to admit.
Dante rolled over again to face her and sighed. “We were ambushed by insurgents. I managed to fire back, but it was too late. The attackers ended up dead, but so did most of my friends.”
