The Last Mission of the Living (The Last Bastion #2)(78)

“Okay, I really, really want to get used to this,” she panted.

“Not done with you yet.”

Grinning at his masterfulness, Torran wrapped his arms around her thighs and devoured her until she was almost screaming. Torran was just climbing back up her body with the most satisfied look on his face and a rock hard erection when their wristlets chimed. Instantly, they were both quite sober. Sitting side by side, they reviewed the incoming message.

“They can’t do this,” Lindsey said, her heart sinking.

“Yeah, they can.”

Lindsey’s brain already hurt at the thought of all they had to do to prepare for the next raid. Already, packets of information were downloading to her wristlet, along with a new schedule. “This is ridiculous!”

Torran’s scowl deepened, the lines between his brows revealing his own tension. “Two f*ckin’ day’s prep for a major excursion.”

“And they’re doubling the squad.” The vein in Lindsey’s temple throbbed with stress. “Fuck me.”

“That’s a good idea. We’ll deal with this shit later,” Torran said with a nod.

“I didn’t mean literally,” Lindsey responded, but couldn’t help but give him a flirtatious smile.

“Well, if you don’t want me to cajole those sweet little noises out of ya, I’ll just—” He pretended to move to get off the bed.

Lindsey seized his arm, pulled him back toward her, and kissed Torran while straddling his body. She was so ready for him, and despite the bad news, he was still mightily aroused. His hardness slipped into her with ease. Breaking their kiss, she stared into his eyes, rotating her hips against his. “I’ll make sweet noises if you do that growly sound.”

“You’ve got a deal.”

With a smile on her lips, she kissed the man she loved with all her heart.



*



With a loud grunt, Torran fought his way out of a nightmare, not escaping entirely until he swung his legs off the bed and activated the small lamp next to it. Breathing heavily, his pulse pounding, Torran pressed his sweaty palms to his equally sweaty face. It took every ounce of self-control not to bolt to the door to make sure it was secure. His hands felt empty without a weapon and he clenched them into fists. The dream had been vivid, brutally so, and had shaken him to his core. Sweeping his gaze over the room, he anchored himself to reality. He wasn’t on the field of battle and was in a safe place. The dreadful images from his dream were starting to recede, but he could remember one very clearly.

It was Lindsey as a Scrag.

Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that she was still asleep. Her fingers were slightly twitching, but she otherwise appeared peaceful. Lindsey tended to kick off all her covers when she slept, and the vision her pale form against the dark blue sheet was comforting. Her golden hair half covered her face and he gently swept it away with one hand. The full pink lips he loved to kiss were slightly parted in her slumber, but her breathing was easy. At least she was having good dreams. She wasn’t a Scrag, but alive and well. The strength of her body was evident in her muscled limbs and taut tummy. But he also loved the femininity of the roundness of her hips and slope of her breasts tipped with pink nipples. The scars from her reconstructive surgery had nearly faded into her skin and he touched the largest on her inner thigh. She’d experienced so much pain, yet was so strong. Torran was certain she was the most wonderful woman in the world.

Yet, her beauty was marred by the thing that haunted his dreams: that horrible bruise left by the maw of the Scrag. The mark on her forearm was nearly gone. At least the designers of the suits had been clever enough to add additional protection to the sleeves. Torran knew from old reports that most Scrag bites were inflicted on hands, wrists, and forearms. The natural inclination of any human was to raise their arm in defense when a creature was lunging at them.

The image of her arm caught in the jaws of the Scrag would never leave him. It had taken all his willpower to trust Franklin and Hobbes to save her and not abandon his post to rescue her. Though he’d done the right thing, guilt still lingered. He should be the one to protect her. Lindsey had saved his life. He owed her so much. It should be his duty to make sure she was guarded against all threats.

Of course, it wasn’t just the fact she’d saved his life that elicited the need to protect her against all harm. Torran recognized he had fallen for her. It was almost painful how much he’d come to love her. Everything about her was enthralling. From her saucy humor, intelligence, kindness and strength of will, to her beautiful golden hair, sensuous lips and enticing body.

Checking his wristlet, he saw that he only had a few more hours to sleep before they’d return to duty. Though he enjoyed working with her, the reality was that Torran was tired of hiding how he felt about her. If the city wasn’t on lockdown, he’d already have taken her to meet his folks. Torran wanted a life with her. Not a shared duty. An actual life.

Lying next to her, he lightly brushed his palm over her bare hip and rested his head against her shoulder. She stirred enough to mold her body against his while angling her head toward him to rest her cheek against his hair. “Everything okay?” she murmured, not really fully awake.

“Yeah. It’s good.”

“You sure?”

Pressing his lips to her shoulder, he said, “I’m sure. Sleep, Linds.”