Page 125 of Reckoning
Their hands roamed with quiet purpose—hers tracing the familiar scars across his back, his cupping her face, thumb brushing her cheekbone like she was something irreplaceable. Kisses broke only for soft gasps, murmured names, quiet affirmations that didn’t need volume to carry weight.
“I love you,” he breathed against her temple.
“I love you,” she answered, voice cracking just enough to make his heart squeeze.
The words settled between them like an anchor.
Logan slipped a hand between their bodies, fingers finding her clit, circling in the same slow, steady rhythm as his thrusts. The dual sensation unraveled her gently but inexorably: heat pooling low, tightening, spreading until her thighs began to shake and her breath turned ragged.
“Stay with me,” he whispered. “Right here.”
Mara nodded, clinging to him as the orgasm built—quiet, intense, inevitable. It crested in long, rolling pulses that made her arch beneath him, walls fluttering and clenching around him in soft, rhythmic waves. She came with his name on her lips—soft, broken, perfect—nails pressing into his shoulders as pleasure moved through her like a warm tide.
Logan followed moments later, hips pressing deep one last time as he spilled inside her with a low, shuddering groan—face buried in her neck, body trembling against hers in perfect mirror. He stayed there, buried inside her, until the aftershocksfaded and their breathing slowed to match the distant hum of the night outside.
Finally, he eased out gently, rolling to his side and pulling her against his chest. She curled into him, leg draped over his hip, hand resting over his heart.
Afterward, wrapped in sheets with the windows open to the North Carolina night, Mara thought about how much had changed in six months.
She'd learned to share her life. To let Logan into parts of herself she'd kept locked down for years. To trust that he wouldn't use her vulnerability against her. To believe that love didn't make you weak, it made you stronger because you had something worth fighting for beyond the mission.
Logan had learned to balance his career with his relationship. To take leave. To let his team handle things without him sometimes. To understand that being in love with someone who did the same dangerous work meant accepting worry as a constant companion but also knowing that she understood the risks in a way most people couldn't.
They'd both learned that long distance was hard but not impossible. That trust was essential. That communication mattered more than proximity. That you could build something real even when you were apart more than you were together.
"What are you thinking about?" Logan asked quietly.
"How different things are now. How much better." Mara turned to face him. "Six months ago I was terrified of this. Of us. Of what it would mean to let someone in."
"And now?"
"Now I can't imagine not having you. Can't imagine going back to keeping everything compartmentalized and separate and safe." She traced the scar on his jaw. "You were worth the risk."
"So were you." Logan kissed her forehead. "Best decision I ever made was asking you out for that beer."
"Best decision I ever made was saying yes."
They fell asleep tangled together, the comfort of knowing that in two days Logan would take her to the airport and they'd say goodbye for another few weeks. That he'd deploy to Afghanistan and she'd run operations in Louisiana and they'd go back to video calls and texts and stolen moments between missions.
But they'd made it work for six months. They'd survived deployments and operations and the constant pull of careers that demanded everything. They'd learned to balance love and duty, personal and professional, the mission and the relationship.
And they'd keep doing it. Keep finding ways to make the time together count. Keep building something that mattered even when they were apart.
The weekend passed too quickly like it always did. Lazy mornings in bed. Long talks over coffee. Cooking together in Logan's small kitchen. A visit to Bulldog and his girlfriend where they all had dinner and laughed about the absurdity of trying to maintain relationships while deployed half the year.
On Sunday, Logan drove Mara to the airport. They sat in the car for a few extra minutes, neither wanting to start the goodbye.
"Two weeks until you deploy," Mara said.
"Two weeks. Then four to six weeks in Afghanistan. Then I'll come to Louisiana when I get back. Spend some time at L'Abri Sûr before we plan that trip." Logan took her hand. "You'll be careful while I'm gone?"
"Always am. You'll do the same?"
"Always."
"Liar. You're Delta Force. Careful isn't in your job description."
Logan smiled. "Fair point. I'll be as careful as the mission allows."
