Whispers of You (Lost & Found #1)(63)

“Nothing’s going to happen to Holt,” Jude assured me.

I watched as Holt checked the locks on the windows for what seemed like the millionth time. “I don’t want him taking my welfare on his shoulders either. I don’t want him blaming himself for every little thing that does or doesn’t happen to me.” Because that hadn’t worked out for us very well before.

Jude was quiet for a moment. “I’m not sure that’s something you can control. When you care about someone, you don’t want anything to happen to them. If it does, it feels like it’s your fault—even if that isn’t true.”

He was right in so many ways. I would’ve taken that on if something had happened to Holt this afternoon. I blew out a breath. “I guess we’ll just have to make sure nothing happens to either of us, then.”

“I guess so.” Jude ruffled my hair in his familiar move. “I gotta get going, but call if you guys need anything else.”

Holt strode across the space, extending a hand. “Thanks, man. Really appreciate you doing all of this.”

I knew it meant the world to Holt. I’d seen the hurt on his face when he realized that Chris hadn’t shown. Jude had made some excuse, but I was about ready to drop-kick my friend.

“Anytime. Let me know if the cops find out anything.”

“We will.” Holt walked Jude to the door, locking it behind him.

I didn’t move. Suddenly, I was bone-tired. The kind of fatigue that had nothing to do with sleep but soul-deep weariness.

Holt moved toward me, brushing the hair from my face. “Can I make you something to eat?”

The idea of putting anything in my stomach, even my favorite Thai food, had nausea rolling through me. “I think I just want to take a shower and go to bed.” It was only nine, but I’d had enough of today.

“Okay,” he whispered into my hair. A second later, Holt was leading me to the bathroom.

He opened the door and flicked on the light. After switching on the water, he turned back to me, going for the hem of my blouse and pulling it over my head.

“What are you doing?”

Holt let the garment flutter to the floor, then leaned in and brushed his lips against mine. “Let me take care of you.”

There went that skip in my heartbeat again, the one I used to feel every day thanks to Holt Hartley—the one I’d longed for since the day he left.

“Okay.”

Holt’s fingers went to the button on my jeans, undoing it and pulling down the zipper. Each click of the metal tines sent sparks of sensation dancing across my skin.

I kicked off my shoes, and Holt tugged on my pants, sending them to the floor. His fingers hooked in the lacy underwear I’d put on that day, thinking there was a chance he might be taking them off. I hadn’t pictured that event going down quite like this, though.

Holt slid the lace down my thighs, lifting one leg and then the other to free me. I unhooked my bra and tossed it onto the pile of clothes.

It only took Holt a matter of seconds to shed his, and I couldn’t help but take him in.

“You’re staring, Cricket.”

The corner of my mouth lifted. “You’re nice to look at.”

Holt chuckled as he opened the shower door. “I’m glad you think so.”

I stepped inside the tiled space and moved straight for the stream of water. Ducking under the spray, I let the heavenly warmth rush over me.

Holt moved in behind me. His fingers dug into my shoulders, kneading the muscles.

I let out a little moan but didn’t move.

It turned out Holt didn’t need direction. He grabbed the shampoo from the shelf in the wall and set to work on my hair. His tenderness made my eyes sting, the way he massaged my scalp and made sure every strand was thoroughly washed.

When Holt moved on to conditioner, he combed the substance through my strands with his fingers, doing a far better job than I ever did. He tipped my head back to rinse my hair and pressed a kiss to the hollow of my throat.

A moment later, he filled his hands with body wash. My thighs clenched in anticipation—want.

Now I knew what it was to have Holt’s hands on my skin. To have them everywhere.

He ran the soap up and down my arms, over my stomach, and then across my breasts. My nipples peaked as I arched back into him.

“Holt.” His name was a barely audible whisper.

His lips skimmed my neck. “Love you, Wren.”

My heart cracked. I couldn’t give him those words yet, even though I knew they’d never stopped being true. Just the idea of saying them aloud had my throat constricting and my hands shaking.

His mouth hovered near my ear. “Don’t say anything. I just need you to know.”

I turned in Holt’s arms, my mouth seeking his. I might not be able to give him the words, but I could give him my actions. I could give him me.

Holt let out a low growl and deepened the kiss as he hardened against my belly.

I felt the vibrations of that growl everywhere. It lit a fire inside me. A desperation to fight off the memories of earlier and the knowledge that I could lose him in any number of ways. It was a deep need to prove to myself that I could hold on.

My hand slid between us, stroking his length, up and down, relishing the feel of him hardening further.

“Wren…”

“Take me.”