A quiet sob catches in the back of my throat – not from weakness, but from the sudden, suffocating panic that this skin, this heat, this voice might be taken from me before sunrise.
I gasp against his mouth, my arms wrapping around his broad neck, pulling him down into me as if I can physically anchor him to this room, to this bed, to my life. My fingers claw at his dark tactical shirt, needing to feel the broad expanse of his chest, the thundering beat of his heart beneath my palms, proving he’s here, right now, completely mine.
“Locke,” I whisper breathlessly against his lips, my tear-blurred eyes searching his dark face. “I can't lose you. Do you hear me? If Knox... if anything happens out there –”
“Nothing is happening to me,” Locke rasps, his hand coming up to cup my face with a fe
