Whispers of You (Lost & Found #1)(53)

My thumb traced his lips and then trailed down his throat, the stubble there prickling my skin. “I’m with you.”

Then Holt began to move. Slowly at first—shallow, testing thrusts.

My hips rose to meet his, finding a rhythm. I didn’t worry about what was right or expected. I trusted my body to find Holt’s in whatever was supposed to be ours.

Holt tilted his hips, arching deeper into me. My mouth opened on a silent plea as my fingers pressed into his shoulders, nails digging in.

Something about the move broke Holt’s reserve, his worry about how breakable I might be. Some of that earlier desperation found us again. The need to be closer. To remember and to never forget.

Everything in me quivered as Holt hit that spot deep inside. The one that made light dance across my vision and had tears leaking from my eyes. I only wanted more. We met each other again and again, clinging to the need building between us.

“Are you with me?” Holt growled, his hand dipping between us, thumb circling my clit.

“With. You.” I had to sneak the words between breaths.

Holt pressed on that bundle of nerves. It was too much. The rightness of Holt moving inside me. The overload of emotion. Sensation.

All it took was one last spark.

Holt arched into me, impossibly deeper, and then I was falling. But there was no fear because he fell with me. Whispers in the air all around us. Whispers of him. Of us. Of the past. Of the present. Of forever.

I let them take me under, embed themselves in my skin, and carry me away.

Wave after wave crashed over me as I held on to Holt. Gripping as if I’d never let go.

A hoarse shout tipped his lips, and then Holt was spiraling, too. A twisting swirl of sensation. Both of us trying not to miss a single thing.

Because a fear still lived down deep; one that told me the whispers of him would be all I ever had.





25





HOLT





My lips trailed down Wren’s spine. She let out a sleepy little moan that had me grinning against her skin. “Morning.”

My voice was raspy, etched with exhaustion. Likely because Wren and I had lost ourselves in each other more times than I could count. As if we were trying to make up for all the time we’d lost. And when we’d both been too spent to continue, we’d slept tangled in each other.

“Need sleep,” she grumbled.

I couldn’t help my chuckle.

Wren flipped onto her back, not bothering to pull the sheet up. “I missed that sound.”

“My laugh?”

She nodded, her fingers ghosting over my throat. “I thought I’d have all your chuckles. That I’d know what it sounded like at every stage of life.”

Each word carved itself into my chest. I’d stolen so much from her. Those chuckles. Our life—the one we’d planned for so long.

I cupped Wren’s face, my thumb sweeping back and forth across her cheek. “Never stopped loving you. Not for a single second.”

I didn’t give a damn that it might be too soon. That Wren might not be ready to hear these words. Because she needed them. I might’ve royally screwed up, but it wasn’t from a lack of love.

The green in Wren’s eyes flashed as her fingers stilled. “You can’t say that.”

“Whether I say it or not won’t make it any less true.”

Wren snatched her hand back and pulled the sheet up to cover herself. “Don’t, Holt. Please, don’t make any promises.”

Promises she worried I’d never be able to keep. Maybe she wasn’t ready to hear them out loud, but I’d give them to her silently. Inaudible prayers lifted into the air. And I’d give her actions—the strongest words of all.

I pulled Wren into my arms. “Okay. No promises. But no pulling away either.”

A little of the tension went out of Wren’s muscles at that. “I don’t know if I can do whatever this is.”

My fingers trailed through her hair, and I relished the silky feel of it. “Can you do it for today?”

She worried the side of her lip. “Yes.”

I pressed a kiss to the spot she was nibbling. “One day at a time. It’s all any of us can do.”

And I would use those days—every single second of each of them. I wouldn’t let Wren down. Not this time. I reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a mug of coffee, handing it to her.

She looked surprised for a beat as if she’d expected me to launch my case right then and there. “Thank you,” she said, pushing up against the pillows and taking a sip. “This is much better than when I make coffee.”

I grinned. “Pretty sure you burn coffee, too, Cricket.”

She scowled at me. “I do not.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Wren grabbed a pillow and smacked me with it. “Rude.”

I laughed. I wasn’t holding back on any of those chuckles. Not when Wren had been missing the sound. Leaning over, I brushed my lips across her temple. “Sorry. I will repay you with muffins.”

I handed her one from the nightstand.

Wren’s eyes widened. “This is warm.”

“It’s just a mix, but they’re damn good.”

She bit into it and moaned.

My shorts suddenly felt a little too tight.