Page 36 of Lost in You

I’m looking at her longer than I should, and I notice the dark circles under her eyes. “Have you slept at all?”

“A couple of hours.”

“We both need some sleep. I think we should pile on the covers and say fuck the fire until the cold wakes one of us up.”

Amusement dances in her eyes. “Okay, fuck the fire.”

I finish the pot of soup and then down the rest of the apple crisp, which turns out to be delicious.

“Keep your back to me while I change,” Trinity says.

Two minutes later, she’s wearing her long underwear. She puts the quilt back on the bed and then adds the afghan from the back of the couch. Every muscle from my waist down aches as I walk over to the bed, taking off my boots and socks.

“Is it okay if I take my jeans off? I promise--”

“Of course.” She waves a hand dismissively.

“You don’t even know what I was about to promise.” Even dead on my feet, I couldn’t resist a chance to make her blush.

Her laugh is nervous as she locks eyes with me. I wink at her and her smile widens, but she looks away.

I slide out of the jeans, leaving me in boxers and a Henley. When I lie down on the firm flannel-sheet-topped mattress and pull the covers over myself, I groan with satisfaction.

Trinity turns off the lamp, stokes the fire one more time, and climbs into bed beside me.

“Are you warming up?” she asks.

My eyelids are heavy and I’m already fighting sleep. “Some. My feet are still numb.”

I feel movement and the next thing I know, she’s spooning me from behind. My eyes fly wide open with alarm. Her soft breasts are pressing against my back, and I don’t mind it at all.

“Just warming you up,” she says softly.

That’s an understatement. The blood may not be flowing in my feet, but my cock is twitching to attention. This isn’t me making a move on her, and it’s not her making a move on me, either. But it feels damn good.

I’m too tired to overthink it, so I cover her hand with mine and give in to the pull of sleep.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Trinity

I’m fighting my urge to inhale, kicking my legs wildly in a futile fight. It’s dark. I claw at my scalp, trying to find the hands holding me beneath the water’s surface, but I can’t find them.

This is it. My chest burns, every impulse I have telling me this is the end of my life. A wave of panic seizes me. I reach out wildly, waving my arms in a desperate bid to make contact with anything.

My scream will be the end of me. It comes out silently, but I can still feel it deep inside.

“Trin?” Lincoln cries. “What the fuck is going on? Talk to me!”

I suck in a breath, my lungs filling with the oxygen I thought I’d never have access to again. I’m sitting up, my palms pressed to the mattress and my heart racing.

I’m in the cabin. It was the nightmare that has plagued me for years, and I must have actually screamed in real life and woken Lincoln up.

“I’m fine.” I’m breathless, the anguish still fresh in my mind.

“Is there someone in here?”

I can tell from his voice that he’s out of bed and close to the wall of weapons. That could go badly, so I force myself into a calmer state.

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