Page 72 of Storm of Stars
“Love really isn’t a strong enough word for how I feel about you, Brexlyn Hollis,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to my leg as her hips rocked against mine.
“Maybe you can write me a song,” I replied back in breathy disjointed words as my second climax began cresting in my lower belly.
“Only if you sing for me baby,” she said, picking up her pace. I felt my core tighten in anticipation. The pleasure building and building beneath my skin.
“Oh fuck, Briar.. I’m close…” I cried out.
“That’s it, Hollis. Sing for me,” she grunted as she slid against me. The friction, the love, the words, it was too much and I felt my orgasm crash into me drowning me in nothing but her.
And I fucking sang for her in a beautiful symphony of pleasure and love.
Her breath hitched and her body stilled above me as she found her release. We sat there, bodies joined, for a few more minutes as our breathing returned to normal. When she slid off of me, she smiled sheepishly as she handed me my pants.
A few minutes later, we were dressed again, clothes rumpled, hair messy, hearts still racing in that strange in-between space where adrenaline hadn't quite faded and reality hadn't fully returned. I shifted on the ground beside her, stretching out until we were lying on our backs, shoulder to shoulder, staring up at the inside of the tent. The canvas overhead was dim and still, lit only by the golden flicker of the waning sunlight filtering through the flaps of the tent, its glow softening the edges of the night.
We didn’t speak for a while. Just breathed.
Eventually, I nudged her with my elbow and turned my head toward her. “So… when were you planning to tell me you’re secretly a military genius?” I asked, teasing just enough to make her smile.
She chuckled, eyes still on the ceiling. “Genius is a stretch. More like… I’m good at strategy. Seeing how things fit. Edgar and Devrin did most of the heavy lifting.”
“You’re being modest,” I said. “You’re kind of miraculous, you know that, right?”
She turned her head then, met my gaze fully. No sarcasm, no deflection. “Thank you,” she said, soft and honest.
Silence settled in again, heavier this time, more thoughtful. The kind that seeps into your bones when the future is close and terrifying.
“So… it all starts tomorrow?” I asked, already feeling the pressure creep back into my chest, the same tension she’d helped ease away minutes earlier.
“Technically tonight,” she said, her voice quieter now. “First wave goes in during the early hours, before sunrise. If they canclear the perimeter, jam the sensors, get us those blind spots…” She exhaled, dragging a hand across her face. “Then wave two will follow tomorrow morning. Then when wave three takes the guard towers….”
“We go in,” I finished for her.
“Yeah,” she nodded. “That’s the goal. By this time tomorrow night, we’ll either be standing inside that Show Center… or….”
“Or we will have failed,” I finished again.
I swallowed hard, the weight of it settling in my chest like a stone. Twenty-four hours. One day. Just long enough to imagine everything that could go wrong.
She must’ve felt it, my spiral creeping in again, because she shifted, pressing her arm against mine more firmly, fingers brushing mine until I instinctively laced them together.
“Hey,” she said gently. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Worry yourself into the ground before anything’s even happened.” Her thumb moved across my hand in slow, steady strokes. “We’ve planned this. Edgar’s been preparing for this for years. And whatever happens tomorrow… we face it together.”
I looked at her again. Her face was calm, but not emotionless. There was a flicker of fear in her eyes too, she just wore it differently. Braver than me. Or maybe just more practiced at hiding it.
“I really want to believe that,” I admitted.
She squeezed my hand. “Me too,” she whispered.
I didn’t say anything after that. Just held her hand. Let the silence return.
Outside the tent, the wind shifted. Somewhere in the distance, I could hear laughter.
“We should go find the boys,” Briar said, pushing herself up with a soft grunt and brushing loose strands of hair from her face. Her voice was calm, but there was something else behind it,something heavier lingering under the lightness. “They’re gonna want to spend as much time with you as possible before we go marching into the gates.”
