{Earth}

Underground. No windows in sight. After surviving J.A. Fair High School, Lynn Renee felt right at home. Iona’s Arsenal was a proper bunker at least.

The Brethren requested its unique construction from Tumu, invoking Tritan aid. Thirty-two stories underground, the bunker stored all physical and chemical nacre weapons testing on both human and Icarean subjects. Meaning weapons and defenses designed from and targeting nacre technology.

As Chief Engineer, Lynn oversaw the entire arsenal. So, naturally, she started with redecorating in black, gray, and white. The occasional pop of orange, red, and blue appealed to their Icarean guests.

But to her? This interior choice represented home. She lived in Xelan’s Iona installations for a year after the Invasion. He’d approve of her choices. And that made her smile.

“You ready?” Smith rounded the corner to the cylindrical lift where she waited. He took one look at her and stopped dead in his tracks. “Chief, I think you’re overdoing it this time.”

Lynn batted her lashes, heavy with mascara. “Whatever do you mean?” The red leather pants suit was a gift from Lucas. He gave the best gifts. She paired it with a black blouse, letting her matching red lingerie peek through the sheer fabric. Nude lipgloss and modest stilettos completed the ensemble.

“I’ll send my condolences to his madre. One look at you, and the sudden shift in blood flow will knock him dead.” Smith smiled with his bright white teeth beaming against his tanned skin.

Since the war ended, he stopped rocking the non-descript, covert-ops look. Brown hair slicked back with a nice fade on the sides. He lined his brown eyes with kohl each day. It worked for him. The female Icarean inspectors certainly thought so. Talk about unprofessional…

On that note, Lynn straightened her blazer and smiled. “Thanks, Smith. And you? Looking to hit it off with any of the lab techs?”

He chuckled. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Shocker.”

The lift took them above the surface of the surging waters. The Atlantic Ocean roared in a storm. Cape Hope off of Africa produced waves as high as one hundred feet. The clear nacre glass chute traveled two hundred feet above sea level. Frothing waves climbed high, so very high, only to crash beneath them.

“I never grow tired of that.” Lynn gazed at the awe-inspiring sight.

When Tempest first suggested building the arsenal under an ocean, Lynn thought the Icarean woman was being facetious. But, naw. She meant it. Impossible to reach. Truly secure. Something Xelan would envision.

Security checks on personnel ran twice a week. Only two hundred people currently operated the arsenal with mandatory on-sight residence. Vacation requests, involving leaving the facility, garnered extensive paperwork and thorough research. Advanced notice didn’t cover it. Lynn did everything short of selling her first born for this leave.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Living separately from Pablo killed her. Was this what they fought for? Didn’t they deserve a break—

“Chief?”

She turned to find Smith waiting for her at the conduit. Primary Rem made a special visit to Earth to “allow one to open” for them. Suspicious wording. The cylindrical chute leading from the conduit in the sky to the arsenal underground scanned nacres for identity confirmation. If someone entered the lift without a cleared nacre? Incinerated. Dolor, the other Brethren member on their side, did not fuck around.

Lynn rubbed the gold-laced tattoo over her nacre and smiled. “Ready.”

They stepped through together and onto a cliff overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. The wind carried salt, spraying it in her mass of black locs.

“Lynn.”

She closed her eyes. So much warmth. So much love. Lynn turned to face Pablo. How did a white labcoat and black scrubs look so sexy? She watched too many medical dramas to escape from her parent’s survivalist lifestyle. That had to be the cause.

She took in the sight of him for so long that he crooked those utterly full lips into a smirk. Folding her arms, she decided to get the man’s ego in check before his head couldn’t fit through a conduit.

Rich brown eyes drank her in, repaying the compliment. When they returned to her gaze, the intensity there unfolded her arms involuntarily.

Okay, maybe Lynn could forgive the ego if Pablo kept looking at her like that—

“Ahem.”

They both turned to Smith and blinked.

How could she completely forget his existence?

The man laughed in a burst of good humor. “The techs are right. We won’t get work done for a week with you two running things. Nobody can pull you apart…” His words faded as he disappeared into Iona Medical’s entry, leaving them alone.

Pablo walked to Lynn and reached to twist a loc. Deep and warm, he asked softly, “Do you think we’ll make it to the bed this time?”

Lynn grinned and snatched that bottom lip with her own.

They wouldn’t make it inside.

Pablo peeled her blazer off as she tore his labcoat from his shoulders. He filled out so much since their first kiss years ago. As he finished the last button on her blouse, he stepped back and gaped appreciatively.

They both grew up since then.

Lynn peeled her belt from her pants and dropped them altogether. Like a gentleman, he held out a hand for her to step out of them.

Pablo had a smile meant only for her. Pure adoration and joy. She pressed her forehead to his and basked in it. He cradled her nape and kissed her, soft and slow. The way she liked.

Meanwhile, the sly doctor used his feet to spread out his labcoat. He even folded Lynn’s blazer to use as a pillow. They went to their knees and reconnected to the sound of the surf surging with them.

After the second time, Pablo leaned in and kissed their vows tattooed in a ring over her nacre.

Never endanger this. Never risk yourself without me. Never leave without coming back.

Lynn flattened her palm against his matching tattoo as they kissed deeply in their bliss.

As the last Renee, she kept her maiden name. And Dr. Suarez was perfectly fine with that. Her work, of all things, turned out to be their biggest hindrance.

“Too long.” He groaned against the chain around her neck. Pablo enjoyed engaging her in conversation while kissing her there.

She hated it. Lynn’s eyes rolled back as he teased the sensitive bend. Yup, just hated it.

He chuckled as if he read her mind and knew better. That ego grew the most since high school. “You know we monitor the conduit with visual recordings.”

She twined her fingers in his thick black curls. He liked his hair short but kept it a certain length just for this reason. Lynn purred with another kiss on her throat. “Smith is the best wingman ever. I’m sure he temporarily interrupted the monitoring. Or…”

Pablo sat up and smiled at her, waiting with a raised brow.

“He’s recording it with every intention of blackmail. We are technically on the clock, Chief Medical Officer.”

He repositioned his hips between her parted thighs and purred with carnal intent, “Chief benefits are the best kind.”

Mr. Pablo and Mrs. Lynn would find their way inside. Eventually.