Nicky is a stupid shithead. She can't see past only one parameter, the thinness. So, the thinner the better, but it's not where it's at. Bryn has a better body than anyone else I've met, a fucking A body.

"I love your body." My words are hot in her mouth, along with my tongue. In case it's hard to grasp, I squeeze her butt again. "Firmer than a radish. I can bite this right now."

"A radish? Jeez, sweetie, you're pulling all the stops on romance."

Bryn's laughing... Another thing I love about her, is that she can laugh after everything that happened. Her laugh is like a diamond, a shiny gem created by pressure, fire and whatever else. Also, she kisses me after everything. Most women wouldn't kiss me this fresh from the kill. Maybe in their dreams they would, but in reality, men like me are screwy, and women are wise. But Bryn, Bryn can love me.

"How do you still love me?" I ask her.

"I dunno. I just do." She sags into me. "I... I've heard two shots."

"It's over, honey. Done."

"Kassan?"

I drag out the exhale as much as I can. Must we talk about that rat? "The man's discovered the thirst for torture. I saw it in his eyes."

Rugged little breaths come out of her, with very little air breathed in. "Shh, sweetie, shh... don't hyperventilate. It had to be done."

"The only... problem I remember having with him... is how much he bitched about the Windows' processors." She hiccups between words, hiccups after saying it. "Surely, he couldn't do this thing? In the vineyard?"

"He did. Maybe not all of it, but the vision was his, and they admired his handiwork in certain circles. He'd have found means to do it again and again, worse. Better him dead, than more senior citizens, kids, women... the vulnerable."

"Oh, God." Her face is upturned, and full of tears, until she hides it in my chest. "Oh my God..."

All I can do is hold her. Kiss her. "Do you want some water?"

"I want a shower." My brave girl lifts her head to gaze at me. Her lips tremble, but she smiles. "They have one of those fancy showers here."

"Then help me undress," I whisper in her ear, as I get a hold of her hand and move it to my chest. If her hands are busy with Velcro, her mind would snap out of it. I can't stand her not being Okay. If she isn't okay, what am I even here for? "Sweetie, I'm sorry, so sorry... All I ever wanted was to keep you safe. And I'm failing at it time after—"

"Shut up! You always keep me safe," she whisper-screams. "Even if you can't be there, you give me this powerful will to live."

Guilt is cutting me up, but my eyes shut under her warm, traveling breath. My jaw unclenches.

She rattles, on and on, not looking for the best words.

"I do crazy stuff, Matteo, and it works out because I know in my heart that you'll be searching the cliffs for me in goddamn Guatemala or whatever."

The straps of my Kevlar loosen as her fingers weave deftly on my sides, but it has nothing to do with the refreshing amount of air that floods my lungs, expanding my chest. It's because of her.

"Bryn..." I pretty much can slip my t-shirt off of her up or down her body, it's so large. I choose to pull the hem up, because I love how her waist arches as she wiggles out of it, how her arms go overhead, pushing her breasts within the reach of my mouth. Her naked breasts...

"No, no... take everything off first... there's a lot to unpack down South." She giggles, then catches herself with a muttered curse word.

My eyes snap open and I don't even remember closing them. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

A lie. She knows how shaky she sounds, so she dips her head after I catch her chin with my fingers and chews the inside of her cheek. I wait.

"The stupid girl." She winces and corrects herself. "Nicky."

I can't help but nod my approval when she forces herself to say the name. It's always better to face your fears.

"Nicky got into my head with her creepy giggling," she says after more cheek-chewing.

"It's going to be okay. I promise." I envelop her into a tighter hug.

As always, the moment her body contacts mine, my thing gets hard. There is nothing better than a tug on my belt when the pressure has mounted this high. Thinking in any other direction is difficult. Talking takes inhuman efforts. "Are you sure you want to?"

Her hand answers my question, while her lips tease mine. "I'm dying to have a shower, absolutely."

Shower, my ass! My girl wants what she wants, and she has her work cut out for her: I'm layered with holsters, ammo belt, Kevlar and a couple more useful pieces. But, we manage. We manage...

The shower is fucking amazing. Rich, hot jets of water soak us to the bone instantly, removing sweat, fatigue and ill memories. Nicky has five or seven bottles of shampoo scattered around, so I pick the closest one and lather it into Bryn's hair. Strand by strand, until it's all covered in soap bubbles and smells super-nice. And, yeah, it's not the only thing that foams up...

Bryn catches up fast and grinds into me with her warm and ready bits. A luffa floats into my peripheral vision. I seize it, and run it over long white streaks of shampoo that run down Bryn's front. I circle her breasts, but my endurance gives up. The luffa falls out of my hand, and my fingers find the way in. She chuckles again, throatily, pushing herself onto me with her lips, and her breasts and her hips.

"Come in," she moans, "come in..."

With my first thrust, hot water cuts out, showering us with cold jets. Bryn gasps against me, then shakes with joyous laughter.

"No, no, you aren't getting away." I pant, clutching her, because at this point the Arctic Ocean can't stop me from finishing.

"Internal... heating... activated," she says, fumbling with the faucet and shivering from laughter, chill and excitement.

"One moment," I mutter, catching my breath over the aftershocks of climax. Once the world comes into focus, an enormous towel is front and center. I yank it off the rack and wrap the wet, fragrant curls on her head, letting the ends hang down her front. I follow the plushy fabric with my cheek.

My mind goes to la-la land, my eyes close. Like a blind kitten, I read the flavor of her skin, the pearl of her belly button, and a low, then a bundle underneath. They burrow into another tuft of wet, fragrant curls... more wet now than from the shower.

I take a moment to find the girl's spot inside, and get that first special moan out of Bryn. The one that always gives me a chuckle. I'm almost disappointed she's so close to her climax, but we've just won a lifetime together.

How long it will be, I don't know.

At this moment, I don't care.

I only care to take Bryn as far as shivers and ooze, then half-carry, half-drag her to bed for a cuddle.

When all is said and done, Bryn spoons to me in bed. We're drifting, about to doze off, despite knowing we shouldn't.

As the sheen of sweat and water evaporates, cooling our skin, the coldest object is the band of the engagement ring on her ring finger. I can feel it pretty clearly, since metal gives heat away more readily than flesh.

"We put the ring where it belongs..." I whisper, hoarse and satisfied in more ways than one.

Bryn drums the Wedding March, making the ring bump the part where her hand has rested with every move. "On your bum, you mean?"

"Yeah, that's exactly what I meant. Totally."

She laughs and stretches, languid like a cat.

This one move chases the doze away. Were I ten years younger, I'd be ready for another go right there and then. The way things are now, I sit up in bed, still cradling her to my chest, and survey the room for my discarded clothes. "We better dress up. You never know how fast the Russians can bury the bodies."

"Uh-huh," she agrees. And she doesn't open her eyes.

I lean over and blow slightly at her nose. "Lazy bones get tickled next."

This threat launches her out of bed. I get to see her perfect backside before she saunters into the walk-in closet and rummages through Nicky's hoard of clothes.

My task is far simpler. I pick up the pieces from the floor, chuckling to myself at the fresh memories of how they were discarded, then strap them on.

By the time Bryn emerges, I'm armed and ready to roll, but the sight of her messes with my go-go attitude. Well, fuck me with a butter knife!

Bryn twirls, letting me appreciate the amazing fit of shiny red leather on her legs and the cropped top with tassels that looks almost like a corset on her. Everything is firm and ripe underneath, like a radish. She also pulled her wild hair back and wrapped a scarf around it, to hide the fizz.

"If you like this, wait till you see me in the wedding dress." She winks.

"Can't wait." Actually, this is not even close to describing how impatient I am. "Seriously, Bryn, I'm fucking ready to take you to Vegas and be done with it."

"But the dress! I'm now invested!" A little foxy smile flits on her lips, then she pouts. "Only we'll have to find another stupid venue."

"Ah. About that." I clear my throat, not sure if she's ready to hear what I have to say.

"Y-eee-s?" she drawls. When I still don't respond, she pokes me in the ribs.

"Bryn, I picked the location for our wedding. It can't be anywhere else."

"Well, at least it was a quick decision." Her living eye widen, but I don't think she understands yet what a colossal fuck-up I'm about to hand her. "What do you have in mind?"