Page 47 of Prey for You

“Sam—”

“I’m picking up the pace, babe—harder.Faster.”His voice was tense, breathless because he was touching himself too. “We’re going to do this together,” he growled. “You with me, Beautiful?”

“I…yes.”I fisted the quilt with my free hand. My body trembled, my heels slipping on the quilt. I wasso close.But could I get there? I’d been feeling so dead inside. And even though this was hot as fuck, Imissedhim. Missed feeling his weight on me, and his hand in my hair and—

“I need to see you,” Sam ground out. “Now.”

“I’m right here—”

“Look at me, Bridget. Fuckinglook at me.”

I bit my lip and lifted my head. Sam, mouth open and jaw rolling, filled the phone screen. His eyes were hooded, butblackwith need. And the moment our gazes locked, he lookedinsideme.Hiseyes.Hishands.Histouch.

A groan shuddered out of me. Electric thrill crackled from that point of connection, through my core, to where I touched myself, and my body kicked.

I cried his name as the orgasm hit me like a truck, washing through my bloodstream, out to my limbs until I was arched back on the bed and barely able to see him. But still our eyes held and the joy and love andpleasurepulsed through me.

Sam bellowed my name and his head sank back, but he stayed locked in, eyes hooded and dark as his body quaked. He never let me go, never looked away, and I couldn’t either.

A few seconds later I slumped.

First, I felt relieved. But then Sam blinked and looked down, leaning half out of the frame, probably to clean himself up. Yet, the moment I lost that connection something inside me went hollow. I wanted to cry.

Quickly closing my legs, I curled up on my side and shoved one hand under the pillow, gripping it tightly to ground myself.

“So fucking beautiful, Bridget,” Sam panted, but his eyes weren’t on me, and the thrill of my climax had only left me shaky and scared. “I can’twaituntil I can touch you again—” He cut off. I didn’t know why because I’d buried my face in thepillow because I was going to fuckingcryand it was so dumb. He loved me. I knew he did. And he hated being apart as much as I did. But I felt like a balloon on a string, just barely tied down. One wrong tug and I’d be drifting—

“—Bridget, look at me.”

My eyes flew open instinctively, but I didn’t want to move. I was peering past my own shoulder to look down the bed and see the phone.

“Babe… are you hurting? What happened?”

I shook my head. “I just… I miss you, Sam,” I said, then cursed myself because my vision blurred. “God, thissucks!”

“I know. I know, but—”

“Stop trying to talk me into being happy. I’m not happy, Sam! We have to spend all the time apart. What if they take you away and it’smy fault?I’ve fucked everything up and—”

“Stop. Stop it. Right now,” he snapped.

I blinked and sucked in a breath, staring at him on the screen, at first convinced he was angry with me. But when our eyes locked again, he was shaking his head.

“Stop torturing yourself,” he said, his voice low and ragged, but no fire in it. Just pure, flat discipline. “We can’t change where we are now. Thinking about the what-ifs, or maybes is only going to tear us apart. Come here.”

My eyes widened. “To your house?”

He sighed, shaking his head. “No, I meant, get close to the phone. I need you to see my eyes.”

Disappointment made my stomach plummet, but he’d succeeding in breaking me out of my tears. Almost. I swallowed the lump in my throat as I crawled to the end of the bed and took the phone off the tripod with shaking hands.

Then I was laying on my stomach, propped up on my elbows, staring at his gorgeous face, and he was staring back at me, worry creasing his brow.

“I love you, Bridget.”

I sucked in a deep breath. “I love you, too.”

“Thisdoessuck, but we aren’t giving in to that. We’ve got a goal, right? My guys are saying we’ll be in Court in the new year. And we’ll have pre-trial before then. Maybe things will slacken off over the holidays and we can find a way to meet up.But you let me handle that because we aren’t fucking this up. Do you hear me?”

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