Whispers of You (Lost & Found #1)(64)

I needed Holt. Needed the fire we created between us that was ours alone.

Holt lifted me, stepping back out of the spray and lowering us to the tile bench at the back of the stall. His eyes blazed. “Your show, Cricket.”

My confidence faltered for a moment. I didn’t have the first clue what I was doing. All I knew was how Holt made me come alive beneath his fingertips.

Holt’s mouth brushed against mine. “You’re all I want. Feel that.”

He pressed himself against my core and everything in me tightened in delicious need. His reaction showed how much Holt wanted me. It gave me just enough courage to move.

My knees rested on either side of his thighs, and I slowly sank onto him. My lips parted at the achingly beautiful stretch.

Holt traced my bottom lip with his thumb. “Nothing but beauty.”

He rocked against me, and tiny waves of sensation coursed through me, spurring me on. My hips began to move, almost of their own volition. Tiny rises and falls, testing tilts and arcs.

Everything in me turned to liquid heat as I moved. Holt joined me in the dance, his hips lifting to meet mine. We lost ourselves in the rhythm, the pulse that was only ours.

But it wasn’t enough. I wanted Holt to let go. To make me his in a way that meant he’d be with me always.

“Holt.” I didn’t care that I was pleading. “I need more.”

He lifted me off him in a flash. I whimpered at the loss, but he spun me around to face the wall a second later. He thrust inside in one long glide, and I nearly wept with relief. I pushed back, seeking more.

Holt thrust deeper, picking up speed. My legs trembled as my inner walls quivered.

My back arched, meeting him for each movement. I braced my hands against the tile as tears of feeling filled my eyes.

Holt’s hand slid between my legs and circled that bundle of nerves. The sound that escaped me wasn’t anything I’d ever heard fall from my lips.

“Are you with me?”

“With. You.”

Holt flicked my clit, and my world tunneled. If it weren’t for his quick reflexes, I would’ve hit the floor. But Holt’s arm encircled my waist, and he held me up as he thrust one last time, my name on his lips.

We collapsed onto the bench, trying to catch our breath.

“Too much?” he asked softly.

“No. Perfect.”

Because Holt had done just what my soul had cried out for. He’d marked me in a way that I would never forget, no matter what came our way.





Grae sat opposite me in the overstuffed chair in my living room, her legs curled under her. And she was fighting a smile. “You look way too glowy for being shot at last night. Almost like someone got herself some.”

My hand stilled as I reached out to hand her a mug of coffee. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I sent up a million tiny thank-yous that Holt currently wasn’t on the premises. What we did have were two officers parked outside the cabin. I tried not to let their presence make me feel trapped, but it was hard not to. The sensation was so familiar that it threw me back to a time when reporters had been camped out on my street, and I felt sure the third shooter would show up at any moment.

Grae only grinned wider, oblivious to my spiraling thoughts. “It’s not like I want details. That’s my brother. Ick! But I do want to know that you’re happy.”

I tugged on the corner of my lip with my teeth.

The amusement fled Grae’s expression. “You’re not happy.”

“I’m happy,” I whispered.

“Then why do you look like someone just stole your puppy?”

Shadow lifted her head at that.

I sank back onto the couch, pulling my knees to my chest. “I’m scared someone’s going to steal that happy.”

Grae nodded. “Someone like Holt?”

“Or the shooter. Every time I think about letting myself really want this…”

“It terrifies you.”

I nodded.

Grae blew out a breath as she settled back into her seat and punched something into her insulin pump. “I’m so sorry, Wren.”

“I know it’s not rational, but I can’t stop the fear from taking hold. I have these moments of crazy joy, but in between, all I see are the endless possibilities for how that could all be taken away.”

Grae sipped her coffee. “That’s the risk we all face. The price for loving deeply. Family, friendships, relationships. The only certain thing is that we’ll lose each other.”

My mouth went dry at her words.

“We don’t have control over that. We can only control how we live until it’s our time. Do you want to spend your time worrying yourself sick? Or do you want to live?”

So much of the past ten years had been about protecting myself: from pain, disappointment, and grief. I’d created a bubble that was good. Safe. Predictable. But it wasn’t what life was with Holt. It let me escape a lot of the heartbreaking lows, but it didn’t have the soaring highs that made the world come alive around me.

When I was with Holt, there was this juxtaposition of sensations. He grounded me in a way that made me feel at home yet propelled me into the air for the greatest rush of my life. I’d never met another person who made me feel that way. And I didn’t want to lose that. I also didn’t want to dull it by pulling back.