Page 50 of Prey for You

He trulyheldme. Like the contact was just as necessary for him as it had suddenly become for me.

I cried into his skin and begged him not to let me go. And he didn’t. Even when he rolled us onto our sides, it was only so he could stroke my hair and whisper his reassurance.

It took a long time for my tears to stop, and my breathing to calm.

By the time I could have spoken, Sam had fallen asleep. And I didn’t mind in the slightest. Because it let me just lay there, one hand flattened on his chest, and stare at the dark, hard lines of him that I could see from my place under his jaw—the thick cord on his neck, the shadow of his collarbone, and the ridges of muscle on his bicep just below my jaw.

I drank in the sight of him, and the warmth of his skin.

And even though I knew this was an awful risk, I thanked God that he’d taken it. Because something inside me healed.

Because his grip never loosened.

He held me as tightly as I held him. Even in his sleep.

17. Meet Me Here

~ SAM ~

I woke up with a start, my adrenaline pumping, alarm shrieking in my head because I hadn’t wanted to sleep. But when I opened my eyes, Bridget was only inches from me, staring into my soul.

My breath rushed out of me in relief. I reached for her, pushing her hair back, then cupping her cheek. She sighed softly, her eyes closing as she lifted her hand to cover mine, sliding her fingers between mine and holding me there.

“You shouldn’t have let me sleep. I didn’t want to lose time,” I said gruffly.

“It was only a few minutes.”

When she didn’t say more, I frowned. “Bridget?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell me what’s going on?”

Her fingers tightened in mine. “You already know what’s going on.” Her tone was sad, rather than angry, but she pulled my hand off her face and rolled away from me, pushing back the blankets and getting up.

I sat up quickly. “Where are you going?”

“To the bathroom?” she snorted. “I’ll be right back.”

I laid back down, but watched the door until she came back, relieved when she slid right back into bed. I was laying on my back and opened an arm, pulling her against my side, runningfingers through her hair where she rested on my shoulder. Yet, I could feel the tension in her. She’d been so liquid in my arms before, so needy. But whatever had been bothering her, that had spurred me to get over here because I was afraid she would get herself in trouble, it was descending on her again.

“Talk to me,” I murmured.

“About what?”

“You tell me.”

“Don’t startpastoringme, Sam. Please.”

I turned my head, frowning. She looked up at me and didn’t avoid my eyes, but she wasn’t smiling.

“Bridget, caring about what’s bothering you isn’tpastoring.It’s… loving.”

“Then just love me. I’m assuming we don’t have a lot of time. I don’t want to spend it talking about negative stuff.”

“Except I think we need to,” I said quietly, rolling to face her again. She sighed like she was frustrated, but she didn’t turn away. “The reason I came was because you were so obviously upset. And you weren’t talking.”

“Maybe that’s becauseI don’t want to talk about it?”

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