His voice was muffled, and his lips brushed against the piece of fabric that concealed my pebbled nipple, when he groaned, “I miss you.” My heart thudded violently in my chest. “I miss you, too.” “I’m sorry,” he whispered, nuzzling the outline of my nipple with his nose. “For feeding her your line.” “It’s okay.” Knotting my fingers in his hair, I cradled his head against my chest and released a shaky breath. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
