Fade To Midnight (16 page)

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Authors: Shannon McKenna

BOOK: Fade To Midnight
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Des spun the two of them around, so that he faced the screen, and shoved Ava to her knees. A brief glance revealed…hot damn! Tom had gotten the hang of the master crown in record time, and was already exploiting its many possibilities. Bixby always had been a quick study, that dirty bastard. Des wrenched open his pants, inspired.

“I can't wait.” Ava gazed up with that crazy glow in her eyes that always unbalanced him “It'll be wonderful, to crown someone as good as me. I'll be like a goddess. It's like, I can wear her. Like a scarf.”

“Sure. Like a scarf.”

And Des shoved his cock into her mouth, so that there would be no more goddamn prattling talk.

CHAPTER
9

D
on't go.
The plea hung in the air between them.

Edie waited for Kev's response, her fingers digging into the thick muscles of his shoulder. The seconds ticked on and on.

He didn't answer. Tears prickled her eyes. This was torture.

A muscle twitched in Kev's jaw. “You don't understand,” he said. “I don't know how to handle feelings this strong. Before the waterfall accident, I was numb, more or less. Self-control wasn't an issue for me. But now, I feel…inside out. Like I'm going to break.”

“Tell me about it,” she said fervently.

“You don't get it.” He gripped her hand in his own, engulfing it. “I don't trust myself. I don't want to hurt you. I have to leave. Now.”

“Leaving would hurt me,” she said simply.

He muttered something, in a harsh, gutteral language. It sounded profane to her attenuated senses. “You're not listening,” he growled.

“You are so wrong. You will never find a better listener than me. And if you're trying to intimidate me, don't bother. It won't work.”

His eyes narrowed to bright green slits. “It won't?”

“No. It won't. I'm fearless today. I could eat you for breakfast.” She plucked his hand off hers, and pulled it up to her mouth, pressing her lips against it. “You think you feel exposed?” She whipped off her long green sweater and flung it down next to his on the floor. “We're even.”

Kev sucked in a harsh breath. “Oh, fuck.” His voice sounded strangled. “Edie. Goddamnit. This is not helping.”

She reached back, struggling with the fastenings of her shabby white bra. Wishing she had a seductive scrap of silk and lace on. At least the boobs themselves were acceptable, as boobs went. “Who said anything about helping?” She flung the bra onto the sweater, chest out, shoulders back. Displaying herself. Ta da. Take that, buddy. Tit power.

He stared at her bare chest, as if hypnotized. “I can't do this to you.” His voice sounded strangled. “I'm not in control. You understand? I can't…I don't know what I'd do to you.”

“No? Well, gee. I could give you some pointers.” She felt silly, being naked to the waist and still wearing glasses, so she pulled them off and tossed them onto the table. The room shifted into soft focus. Kev glowed in the foreground, like luminous marble. His dirt-blond hair had wiry glints of gold and bronze. Silver and gilt beard stubble glinted on the unscarred side of his jaw. She liked the metallic accents. They gave him a supernatural glow, like some mythical beast in an ancient tale. He glittered and shone. Colors of the sun, the moon, the stars.

She seized his shoulders, her ink-blackened nails digging into hot smooth skin, thick ropy muscle, the rasp of bumpy scar tissues. She let her breasts sway, inches from his face, in blatant invitation.

He seized her waist. “So we're clear?” His voice was clipped and harsh. “We just met, a little over an hour ago. There are two outcomes in this scenario. I put on my shirt and leave right now, or I throw you down on the nearest horizontal surface, and fuck you hard. And repeatedly. You understand?”

She stroked the muscles of his back, shivering. “Jeez,” she murmured. “You don't have to sound so unhappy about it.”

He shook with smothered laughter. She pulled him closer so his face pressed against her breasts. His face rubbed against her. His beard stubble rasped delicately against the underside of her breast. His mouth moved over her skin, the hot bloom of his breath warming her.

His tongue swirled, tasting her skin, lapping. She stifled a whimper and squeezed her quivering thighs together. He pulled her nipple into his mouth, suckled her. Her legs were buckling. She wrapped her arms around his neck, clutching his head to her chest.

He pulled back, his breath short and sharp. “Fuck. I don't know if I can be gentle.” His voice was unsteady. “Are you sure you—”

“Duh,” she said sharply. “Don't ask me again. It's pissing me off. You think you can blow my mind with psychic lust waves, and then walk off and leave me? Fuck that, Kev Larsen.” She wound her fingers into the spiky hair on his scalp, and yanked it, hard. “Fuck that.”

He shook with silent laughter. She felt strange, almost possessed. She had no idea where this uncharacteristic sexual boldness came from, but she'd do anything to keep him from vanishing. Even throw her body at him. Thank God, the boobs had hooked him.

Or she was the one who was hooked, helpless, mindless. Strung out on the way his lips were moving on her skin, the tender way his hands cupped her breasts, the way his tongue swirled, turning her chest into a liquid glow, inflaming her nipples into bright, shimmering points.

She couldn't breathe. Her skin felt like it was too small for her body, hot and fevered. Her breasts felt swollen, taut with longing.

He pulled her closer, and pulled her leg around until she straddled his thighs, and pulled her down on his lap. Settling her crotch across that throbbing club of his penis, still trapped in his jeans, so its hot bulk pressed against her most sensitive places, making her tingle, melt. Wow. So big. And not just down there. His whole body was huge. Her relatively tall five-foot-eight was nothing compared to him. He had to be six-four, minimum.

Her nipples tingled where they brushed him. She moved, rubbing hungrily against his erection, staring into his eyes. He pressed his hand against the small of her back, intensifying the contact. Making her rock and squirm and writhe against his hardness.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered.

Something rejected the words. They broke the spell, propelling her out of herself. “Don't,” she said. “Please. You don't have to say that.”

His face was incredulous. “You don't think that you're beautiful?”

She was intensely uncomfortable at this turn of subject. “Its not that I think I'm bad looking. But I've been lectured all my life about the tragedy of unrealized potential, and I'm sick of it. I've moved on, see? It's too late to learn to dress, do my makeup, and blow-dry my hair properly, blah blah blah. What you see is what you get.”

He shook his head, his eyes intent on her face. “Who gives a fuck about the clothes, or the makeup?” He sounded genuinely curious.

“Um, the rest of the world, maybe?” Damn. She wished she hadn't opened the subject. It sounded like she was fishing for reassurance. Like a cheesy women's magazine article, she'd blurted out Number One on the list of Ten Things Not To Say To A Guy Who's Seducing You.

But Kev didn't seem put off. He studied her face, touching it with his fingertips. His touch felt reverent. “Your lips are hot pink,” he said, stroking them. “Puffy and soft, like a satin pillow with a crease down the middle. They shine when you lick them. They don't need paint. And your eyes, Jesus. I can't even describe it, how they reflect light. More silver than gray, like there's crumpled metal foil behind to catch light and refract it in every direction, and that ring of dark slate gray around the outside sets off the bright part in the middle. And your breath. It's amazing. So sweet and fresh and spicy. Mint, cinnamon, and ginger?”

Oh, man. Oh, not fair. She was utterly flustered by his catalog of her charms. She tried to suppress the girly giggles, but they bubbled up anyway. “Oh, that's just the chai,” she informed him. “I made you some. You were too distracted to drink it. You, too, could have mint, cinnamon, and ginger breath.”

He grabbed his mug from the table, and took a deep swallow of his cooled tea. “Mmm,” he said. “Good. And your teeth, too. Wow. So white and straight. You have great teeth.”

She grinned, showing off her admittedly nice teeth. “Years of orthodontia,” she said. “I suffered the fires of hell for these teeth.”

“Your suffering was not in vain,” he said solemnly. “And I haven't gotten going about your skin yet. We're still above the chin. I could go on for hours about your eyes alone. And eye accessories.”

“Accessories?”

“You know. Eyelashes, eyebrows, eyelids. The purple smudges, right here…” He touched the hollow below her brow. “And the way your eyelashes curl at the tips. And your eyebrow hairs. I love how they sweep up at the edges. Its all just so…perfect. It blows my mind.”

“Thank you,” she replied. Her face was so hot, she felt feverish. “The compliments are just super-nice, and I appreciate you being so sweet, but the buildup is driving me crazy. If you don't kiss me now, I will grab a fork and stab you with it. Or else faint from lack of oxygen.”

His laugh rang out, loud and happy. Then he seized her.

The kiss sprang into being, fully formed. No lead in, no awkward fumbling, no slow, graceful merging. Just all of a sudden, they were twined together as if they had always been, locked into a greedy, devouring clinch like they were starving to get inside each other.

His big body vibrated. The stroke of his lips was sure and perfect, the bold flick of his tongue made her melt and squirm, but it wasn't his technique that got her. What undid her was the raw need, his desperate intensity, licking through her like flames. Making her glow and sparkle and hum. Making her wet and slick and ready. Her thighs tightened around his. He was a sweet oasis after an eternity of choking dust. She wanted to give him everything. All she had. All she was.

So far in her life, the best sex had ever gotten for her was when she'd been relaxed enough so that it didn't actually hurt. The hugging and talking afterward was the part she craved. She'd always tried too hard, been hoping too much, to actually get off during the sex itself.

Not with Kev. Her mind was wiped blank. All the cataclysmic power of millions of years of reproductive evolution was clawing its way through her body, trying to get into the guy's pants. Right now would be a good time, thanks very much, and please,
please, fuck me now.

She dragged her mouth away from his, gasped for oxygen, and scrambled off his lap, legs wobbling. “Take off your shoes,” she ordered.

He looked perplexed. “My shoes? What about my shoes?”

“Just get them off,” she said impatiently. “So that when I pull your jeans off and drag you to my bed, you won't be lurching around with denim shackles on your ankles. Trust me on this.”

“OK.” His beautiful grin made her heart bump and skip.

He kicked off his shoes, peeled off his socks. Even his feet were perfect. Graceful, long toes, square nails, elegant bones. Who ever imagined she would get off on a guy's feet? Even the tuft of glinting blond hair on the joint of his big toe charmed her. How sweet.

His smile made something swell in her chest. She turned away before he could see the tears. The doubt that she could see this thing through without disgracing herself. That she was capable of living up to her bold moves, her big talk. She let her hair swing down to hide her face, stared at the glittering crystals, wishing she could hypnotize herself out of these stupid fears.

Screw it. A girl had to start somewhere. Frantic enthusiasm had to count for something, in the absence of experience, or technique. Or whatever the hell else the mysterious secret to great sex might be.

He touched her gently from behind, making her jump. Brushed her hair off her back, and over her shoulder. “I didn't mean to startle you,” he murmured. “I just wanted to see your back. So graceful.”

She nodded, trying to silently sniff the tears back, and squeezed her eyes shut as he stroked her spine, ribs, shoulder blades with his fingertips. He bent, to kiss the nape of her neck, moving down her spine with his warm lips, a kiss for each vertebra. Turning each one into a shining, glowing pearl on a string. His breath was a hot, soft caress, like silk, like fur. More tears sneaked out of her squeezed-shut eyes.

His hands circled her, a caress that made her nerve endings go nuts with bright, dazzling bursts. His lips moved against her shoulder. One hand slid low while the other crept up. She quaked in his arms, making tiny, breathless sounds as his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her low-rise jeans…and stopped, tracing the waistband of her panties. Back, and forth. Back, and forth. Not venturing inside. Just making her think about it. And wait. And wait.

Until she thought she would…just…
die.

She made a growling hiss in the back of her throat, and jerked his hand inside her jeans. “You're a tease,” she complained.

He laughed, his hand sliding into the front of her panties. She almost screamed when they curled around her mound, his fingertip caressing the damp seam through the veil of stretchy fabric, stroking, pressing, circling…and oh—oh
God
…

She came apart, shaking to pieces in a shivering string of lovely little firecracker orgasms. Her chest swelled, bloomed open. Her face quivered. If he hadn't held her against him, she would have keeled over. As it was, she dangled limply over the strength of his forearm.

“Oh, man,” he whispered. “That was beautiful. Do it again.”

She wanted to laugh, but she would cry if she let the sound out. As if it were up to her. This never happened to her. Never.

He swung her around so that they faced the full-length mirror on the bathroom door. The sun had emerged from the clouds right before going down, and the last rays slanted fitfully through the blinds, painting pagan stripes of reddish light onto her naked torso, his face, his sinewy arms. His wrist disappeared into her jeans. She could hardly believe the way she looked, the blush of heat on her face, brimming eyes, wet cheeks, her parted lips, her helpless squirming. His hand, shoved deep in her pants, petting and working her. Driving her mad.

He kissed the side of her neck, tonguing and licking, and tugged the gusset of her panties aside. Teased her tight furled folds apart, found her slick and melting. Her thighs squeezed his hand, clenching around him as he slid his finger into her hot well, finding some sweet magic place that had bloomed into being just for him. Nudging her unexpectedly right over a cliff she never saw coming until she was already in a screaming free fall of shocking sensation.

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