Page 111 of Secret Mission

She sighs against my neck when I start a slow, easy glide through her heat again. This time, she’s slick with my release, the scent of our sex heavy between us.

“You’re so ready for me again.” I nip at her neck and kiss the bite as I slide both my hands below her upper body, cradling her to me. “I’m gonna take my time with you now.”

And I do.

She unravels all over again, sobs against my shoulder as we find the high all over again, but this peak is Everest compared to the last, with our hearts pressed together.

When we fall asleep, a tangle of limbs, after our second shower, I startle awake from a horrible fucking dream.

What the hell?

I scrub my hand over my face, trying not to wake her as I move. But nothing can erase the vision of Allison’s terrified gaze searching for me as a bullet tears through her.

I jolt at the sound of my phone ringing on the bedside table. My hand slaps blindly to grab it.

“Yeah,” I choke out with my pulse roaring.

“It’s time to go to work.” Justice’s voice is tight. “As in now. Wheels up in two hours.”

“Copy that. I already knew.”

It’s not the first time I’ve had that kind of dream. It happened the night before Hope died.

I just hope to God I’m wrong about what I just saw.

Chapter Thirty-Five

A warm hand slides across my collarbone, wrapping around my neck, dragging me from sleep.

“Mmmm.”

Truck leans in, his lips warm, teasing on my temple. “Rise and shine. We’ve got to go to work.”

“Work?!” I jolt. “Oh my god. What’s wrong?”

He worries. It’s written all over the tense line of his face, the darkness in his eyes. “I haven’t been briefed yet.”

“I want to go with you.”

“Youarecoming with me.” It’s decided, his tone leaves no room for fear. “I don’t want you out of my sight.”

We stare at each other.

Something is wrong. Something bad has happened. It’s in my heart, in my lungs, ice-cold like tiny crystals that are growing and growing.

“Are you okay?”

His gaze slides away, and he pushes to sit up.

When I crawl into his lap, wrapping myself around him, Truck’s arms band me.

But the tremor in his chest is what terrifies me.

“You’re not okay,” I whisper.

“It’s just my demons.” It’s hard for him to speak, and I wonder if the smokey rasp is full of something unspoken.

I bury my forehead into his neck and hold on. Tight. “We’ll be okay.”