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“I’ve got you.” His low, rough tone flooded through the pleasure. “Whatever happens tomorrow. I’ve got you.”

Her mind flitted back to the look that crossed his face when he first told her about the meeting. That shadow had meant more. She knew it then, and she knew it even more now.

Binding him against her with her legs, she lifted her hips to meet his. Dragging her nails lightly down his back, she drifted into the unhurried rhythm he built. He watched her with an intensity that stole her heart completely. His face. His voice. His breath breaking apart with every thrust.

She strummed her fingers over his muscled body, tensing and releasing in her grasp, and let her inner walls squeeze his cock on every thrust. Dark heat trickled through her core, and the tight knot inside her pulled to the snapping point. “Wyatt!”

“Yes! Let go,” he growled against her mouth.

She shattered around him with a cry she couldn’t begin to muffle, and he followed almost immediately. A last thread of control snapped between them, and their bodies took over. Hot jets of cum flooded her insides as he poured himself into her. The moment made tears of love sting her eyes, and she held him tighter with a new level of intimacy.

They held each other through it and lay there in a boneless heap for breathless minutes. Her heartbeat slowed gradually, but she wasn’t willing to end this moment yet.

“That was—” She didn’t finish her thought, just pressed her face against his shoulder.

“Yeah.” His voice was a wisp of its usual strength. “It was.”

She lay in the circle of his arms afterward, listening to his heartbeat slow beneath her ear. Steady. Unhurried. Like a man with nothing on his mind but this exact moment.

“You’re quiet,” she murmured against his chest.

“Just thinking.” His hand kept moving in slow circles against her back, and his voice sounded easy enough. Almost too easy.

She wanted to ask what about. Wanted to chase down the reason for the flicker she’d caught earlier, the one he’d brushed off so fast she’d almost convinced herself she’d imagined it.

She didn’t ask. Whatever tomorrow held, she needed tonight to be simple. Just this. Just him.

But some small, wary part of her—the part that had learned the hard way never to fully believe life was safe—filed the moment away anyway, and refused to let it go quiet.

Tomorrow, she would think about walking into that building alone.

But she wouldn’t be alone as long as Wyatt loved her. Not even close.

Chapter Fifteen

Today Whitley would walk into a building full of strangers and relive the worst night of her life. Wyatt intended to make sure that was the hardest part of her day.

But seeing her in the unfamiliar setting of the security office felt wrong.

She perched on the edge of a chair, hands twisted in her lap, unable to sit still.

“Hey.” Wyatt crouched in front of her and caught her hands to still them. “Calm down, baby. You’ve got this. Let’s go over it again.”

She nodded, swallowing hard, and he walked her through the route one more time. The turns, the landmarks, the exact stretch of highway where they’d meet with the FBI agent David Corbin. From there, she would get in the car with him and be driven to the office to give her statement.

Her eyes were steady on his face the entire time he walked her through it, but he could see he’d lost her. Fear was taking over, and he wouldn’t let that happen.

Smoothing his thumb over the back of her knuckles, he said, “Repeat it back to me.”

Her eyes cleared and she snapped back to attention. She repeated the plan word for word. Not a single detail slipped out of place despite the anxiety still written plain across her face. Right on the highway, past the feed store, left at the intersection in Willowbrook that led to the interstate. From there, a meet-up at the old motel along the highway outside town where their activities wouldn’t garner notice.

After that, the agent would take the interstate straight into Cheyenne—forty minutes, give or take, past the exit for the state fairgrounds and the water tower painted with the town’s name in faded blue letters. He’d take the Capitol Avenue exit, and the federal building would be the tall one three blocks in, easy enough to spot with the flags out front.

Seeing the steel under her softness—the same steel that kept her alive and on the run for more than two months—filled his chest with a swell of pride.

“Good.” He touched the pendant resting against her freckled chest. “If anything deviates from that route—anything at all—you push this. Don’t hesitate. Trust that we’re already coming for you.”

Because he had every intention of being on that road too—following just out of sight of the vehicle she was in.