Lib Novel Page 82
1944 hours
Team: Omega
Status: Unit Successful
They trained like they were trying to join the Grupamento de Mergulhadores de Combate special operations and counterterrorism unit. In some ways, they were, but he didn’t know if he would have been able to survive the forty-one weeks straight of training the Brazilian Navy’s Special Forces was known for.
Their initial training lasted sixteen weeks. Afterward, they returned to Morocco.
He was excited to return, primarily because he missed Sayeda and had gotten used to the house being “home.” Then, he couldn’t stroll into Brazil, after being gone for months, without some indication that he’d gone missing due to a run-in with another cartel or government law enforcement bureau.
A little past two in the morning, he fell into bed, bruised and sore in too many places, and slept until seven the following afternoon. When he woke up, hunger created a gnawing ache in his stomach, and he barely got through a much-needed shower before staggering to the kitchen.
And she was there.
“I missed you, querida.”
She turned around, dropped whatever she was holding, and ran toward him. He reached her in four steps and lifted her off the ground as she flung her arms around his neck.
“God, I missed you.” He kissed the side of her head, inhaled her hair and skin. His stint in the São Paulo jail had been twice as long, yet the last four months without her had felt like a life sentence.
“When I got here, you were sleeping, so I took a peek at you,” she said. “With how heavy you were sleeping, I started to think you wouldn’t wake up until next week.”
“How’d I look? Dead? Because it was brutal.”
“I put a spoon underneath your nose to make sure you were breathing.”
Rather than set her down, he headed to his bedroom. Usually, hunger couldn’t wait, but it was being eclipsed with a different type of need. To want her, or anyone, this much was sending him a little out of his mind. A few times, he even dreamed she was there with him during training, showing up most often during the moments when he was at his lowest.
“Adrían, you need to eat.”
“I plan to.” He opened the door, set her on the bed, and climbed over her. “Did you miss me?”
“I missed you.”
“How much?”
“Until it hurt.”
He brushed her neck with the tip of his nose and then planted kisses along the same path, continuing until he reached her mouth. At this point in their relationship, he couldn’t fathom there being any harm in him seeing her face.
“I want to turn on the lights.” He pushed up the fabric and kissed her forehead. “I want to make love to all of you, querida.”
She nodded. “Okay. I’ll?—”
“Without a veil, a covering, or a scarf. I want you completely naked for me.”
“Adrían…”
“Sayeda, you can’t be serious.”
“Please?” She clasped her hands. “For me. Just do it for me. For my comfort.”
“What makes the alternative uncomfortable?”
“Please, Adrían?” She slid her hands underneath his shirt and ran her palms along the muscles in his abdomen. In the desert, some people saw springs of water when they were at their thirstiest, but this was his mirage—her hands, her lips, her warmth mingling with his body heat.
“And if I refuse?”