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He didn’t speak at first. Just shut the door quietly behind him, then leaned back against it like he couldn’t trust his legs anymore.
“I have to go,” he said finally, voice low and rough. “Tonight.”
I felt it like a punch to the chest.
“How long?”
“Couple days, maybe,” he said. “I don’t know. Could be less. Could be more.”
I crossed the room slowly, my bare feet silent against the hardwood. “Where?”
He shook his head once. “You don’t want to know.”
“I think I already do.”
His eyes locked on mine—haunted and fierce all atonce. “Then you know it’s bad. You know what kind of people we’re dealing with.”
“Department 77,” I whispered.
He nodded. “They killed a federal agent. The guy the CIA sent to mediate. The bad guys have taken the war to the next level.”
My knees almost gave out. But then he stepped forward, caught me, held me close. I breathed him in—salt and sweat and gunpowder and the warmth of something I didn’t know I could lose until now.
“You’re safe here,” he said against my hair. “You’re locked up tighter than a vault.”
I pulled back enough to look up at him. “You really think I care about that right now?”
His mouth quirked, the faintest ghost of a smile. “I think I needed you to know you’re not alone.”
Tears prickled the backs of my eyes, but I didn’t let them fall.
“How much time do we have?”
He checked his watch, then met my gaze. “An hour.”
And that was all it took.
One breath.
One look.
Because we both knew what this was.
This wasif we don’t get another chance.
This wasI need to remember what you taste like if they take you from me.
This waslove me like you might die.
He kissed me hard—no buildup, no preamble, just heat and want. I yanked his shirt over his head, my hands already tugging at his belt. He spun me toward the bed, laying me down with a reverence that broke something inside me.
“Noah—” I gasped as he pulled off my sleep shirt, baring me completely, his hands trailing down my ribs.
“You’re everything,” he said, voice wrecked. “Everything good I never thought I could touch.”
Then he dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed and parted my thighs, like he was opening a sacred text.
He kissed the inside of one knee, then the other, then lower still—until his mouth was on me, and I cried out, hand flying to his hair.