Page 86 of The Sniper

We both moaned at once—his hands flying to my hips, mine to his chest.

But this time I didn’t ride him hard.

I moved slow. Luxurious. Like the water around us wasn’t rinsing away sin, but sealing in memory.

Each roll of my hips made his head fall back. Each shift in pressure made his breath catch and whisper my name.

He held me like something precious, his fingers tracing my spine, his mouth murmuring things I couldn't make out but felt all the same.

I leaned down, kissed him long and deep, our bodies locked, the water now pooling around us, turning the shower floor into something between baptism and bed.

We came like that. Together. Drenched in heat and grace and something bigger than either of us.

When he spilled inside me—deep, hot, and claiming—I felt it like a promise. A flood of warmth that reached places I didn’t know could ache. I clung to him, breath catching, as the pulse of it rippled through me.

It wasn’t just the sensation. It was the knowing. That he was part of me in every way a man could be. That I wanted him there—wanted to hold onto him in the most human, hungry, holy way.

My head dropped to his shoulder. His arms held me so tight it hurt.

When we finally stepped out of the shower, dripping and quiet, he reached for a towel and wrapped it around me, careful and slow like I might shatter.

He pressed a kiss to my forehead, breath warm against my skin, and whispered, “Don’t say goodbye.”

So, I didn’t.

I just held his face in my hands, water still trickling from his hair, and said the only thing that mattered.

“Come back to me.”

His eyes shuttered, jaw tightening as he nodded once. Then he began to dress.

I stood, too, my hair wet, my heart heavier than it had ever been.

He turned and kissed my temple. Then my mouth. Then dropped to his knees before me, pressing his forehead to my stomach like a man praying for one more miracle.

I threaded my fingers through his hair, tears gathering at the corners of my eyes.

“Noah,” I said softly, “will you be back in time? For my daddy’s funeral?”

His breath caught, and for the first time, he didn’t have an answer right away.

“I want you there,” I whispered. “So bad, it hurts.”

He lifted his head, eyes fierce. “I’ll do everything I can to be there, Hallie Mae. I swear it.”

I nodded, even though I could feel my chest caving. “Okay.”

He stood again and touched my cheek with the back of his fingers.

“I will come back,” he said, voice rough and sure. “Even if I have to crawl through hell to do it.”

And then he was gone. The door shut behind him.

24

NOAH

Istood in Dominion Hall’s war room, the air thick with tension and the faint hum of monitors casting cold light across the concrete walls.

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