“Kelly, oh God.” Drake released a throaty cry, his body jutted up against hers. Kelly turned her head, searching for him in the mirror, needing to see him.
Drake’s head was tipped back, his eyes rolling beneath their lids. His chest dragged in more air, pushing into her back. His musky scent hung between them like a sedating storm cloud. His hand was back, fidgeting between her and the vanity’s edge, searching for that warm, wet place. Fingers swirled over her clit. Kelly shuddered, her body about to be undone. She lowered herself onto the cool marble. Her breasts pebbled into hard points, pressing against the cold surface.
Her eyes tingled, misting with the emotional heights he was taking her to. Drake’s husky words clawed their way in.
“I’m gonna come,” he growled, throwing his body into hers, pushing her further and further into mirror. Her inner walls tightened around him. “I want you, not just here and now, forever,” he said, his confession a guttural groan. Drake howled in ecstasy. Teeth sank into her flesh, knifing through her skin, a wound of passion.
The wet ache between her legs throbbed, calling out in relief as his relentless fingers pulled her over the edge. Orgasmic pleasure detonated, rolling over her again and again with a sensation of multiple contractions that had her weeping with joy.
“Drake, yes…” Her words died on a euphoric sigh. His internal heat pulsated into her, raining her insides.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Each time he left her there it was becoming harder and harder. It was unnecessary and ridiculous. Drake wasn’t sure how long he was going to tolerate it. Kelly refused to stay with him. Her argument was that it was a work night and she didn’t want to interfere with his routine.
Drake had helped her set up the tent and made a small fire before leaving. Kelly was stubborn. Her pride was going to be the most difficult thing to deal with. She somehow didn’t think that she deserved him, or his money. He knew the focal point was his money. He wished it wasn’t. It was hard for her to see beyond that, though Drake knew she was no gold-digger.
Kelly was no Nina. The errors of her past had her thinking she wasn’t worthy and needed to suffer for her mistakes. It was something he was going to have to address. How he would do that he wasn’t sure.
* * * *
Nina popped the trunk, tossing in the two empty gas cans. Anger boiled as tears rolled, spilling down her cheeks, drying in the cold, chafing wind that blew across the mountain. Emotions collided. Pain, rejection, and rage wrapped around her, the chains pulling tighter and tighter. All logic had been strangled out of her, suffocating any common sense.
Seeing Drake tonight at the annual Tokens for Tots event with another woman on his arm had her world spiraling out of control.
Everyone knows now!
The embarrassment was like an allergy she couldn’t medicate. Who was she? Where’d she come from? It couldn’t be anyone local. Nina had never seen her before.
Someone he met on business?
The trees rustled in the darkness above. Strands of hair blew across her face, sticking to her damp cheeks. She pulled a cigarette out of her pocket. The flame of the lighter flickered against her face as she drew in deeply. The residual odor of fuel from her fingers burned through her sinuses.
Cool menthol iced down her throat. It’d been ten months since she’d picked up a cigarette. She needed the old crutch tonight. There was nothing else. There was no one or nothing else to lean on. She was tired of her father’s words
. “He’s made his choice, and it wasn’t you. It’s time to move on.”
The nicotine raced to her head, making it swim. Nina pulled more smoke into her lungs and opened the car door. She reached in and turned the key, starting the engine.
The smooth idling receded as she trekked around the house, taking one last look. The stiff grass crunched beneath her shoes as she rounded the rustic structure. Drake hadn’t uncovered the hot tub in the back.
I guess he didn’t sanctify his new woman in there.
Nina walked alongside the house. Her heart rate rose, drumming in the back of her throat. Standing off to the side, she took one last drag, sucking in a rush of smoke and nicotine. She stared into the darkness, flicking the cigarette at the foot of the raised foundation. She darted to the car, her breaths heaving. Nina spun around, seeing the line of fuel give birth to a thin trail of flames. It moved around the house slower than she anticipated. Fiery points of carroty light flickered into the dark night air. The wind blew, feeding the fire. Its heat and pungent fumes hit her face, engulfing her with a thick, heavy smog. Her eyes narrowed, tearing from the burn. Plumes of black smoke ascended into the night sky, consuming Drake’s house in a black cloud of hell.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“How long is this going to go on?” Steve asked. His face scrunched into a frown. “It’s pretty silly, don’t you think?” He laughed, shaking his head.
“I’m not doing this for the handouts,” Kelly said, her tone clipped.
“I know that!” Steve answered, now irritated. “The man wants you. You’re focusing on the one thing he doesn’t want you to look at, his fucking money. Isn’t that what he told you?”
Kelly looked away, stifled by Steve’s confrontation. She was exhausted. The fire warmed her chilled fingers. It was insanely late. She wanted to sleep before she had to break down camp. The leaves were falling quickly, and her campsite was getting harder and harder to keep concealed from the parking lot.
Steve had gotten the hint, rising to his feet.
“I’ll let you get some rest. I’ll just say one more thing,” he told her. Kelly faced him, Steve’s expression grave. “That man is in love with you, whether you want to look at that or not.” He stared down at her, his face slack. “Don’t you see? Having all that money comes with a price. He’s never had someone who can look past that. The others probably feasted on his bank accounts daily. Now you’re looking at his money like it’d give you the damn bubonic plague. The guy wants to love, and be loved. It’s not all about you. I’ll see you later,” Steve waved, turning on his heel, defeat in his gait.
Kelly watched the lines of his shadow blend in with the darkness. She bent down and started scooping up dirt, throwing it onto the fire, watching the embers shimmer before slowly burning out.
* * * *
The next morning Sam was in early. She’d been missing him the last few weeks, having not seen him since they argued about the tarp. When Kelly came out of the restroom, he was waiting for her.
“How’ve you been doing?” he asked, his head tilting in question. His inky eyes narrowed, suspicion coating his expression.
Does he know about Drake?
“I’m fine, thank you.” Kelly gave him her most pleasant demeanor. She didn’t want to jeopardize her arrangement with him. “I’m going to move myself further away tonight, you know, with the leaves falling and all,” she told him, wanting to be helpful. Sam nodded.
“Yeah, that’ll be good, thanks,” he said, nodding. “Just be careful.” With that he was gone.
Kelly walked toward the tree line and scrambled through the thickets. She’d break down her campsite and move deeper into the woods. Moving the fire pit would be the hardest part. She broke down the tent, gathered her backpack, and went searching for another location.
Kelly walked about another hundred feet in and turned. She’d taken a slight detour east because now she was directly behind the facility. Her view consisted of a row of large, blue tanks. That was all she saw, so she was sure no one could see her.
* * * *
Kelly had just finished moving the six large rocks she needed for the fire pit when she heard Steve’s whistle of warning carry through the wooded silence. She sat down on a nearby boulder. Sweat dripped down her temples. It was warmer today than it had been. She peeled off her fleece jacket and stood, waving to him.
He had goodies. Kelly was relieved. She hadn’t eaten since picking at the few fancy hors d’oeuvres during the cocktail hour at Drake’s function last night.
Steve raked blond stands of hair away from his eyes. As his expression sharpened, Kelly noticed his mood appeared to be strained.
“You had to move, huh?” Steve handed her a bag. Kelly looked inside, smelling the saltiness of bacon. She rolled the bag closed and shifted her gaze back to his face.
“Yeah, I talked to Sam this morning, no biggie. What’s wrong?” she asked, her stomach turning in on itself. Steve usually was upbeat and seemed to be able to keep it all in prospective, but not this morning.
“Let’s take a seat, shall we?” Steve waved a hand at the surrounding boulders that Kelly thought might protect her from the winds now that the trees were almost bare. They sat down. Kelly leaned on her knees, seeing a folded-up newspaper tucked under Steve’s arm. He usually didn’t bother with the paper. Kelly’s chest went tight.
“What is it?” she asked, her voice a pleading whine. Steve handed her the paper. As she was shaking her head in refusal, thinking nothing in the paper would ever affect her, the headlines seared her eyes.
Affluent entrepreneur of Larson Strategies loses his home on Blue Mountain. Police suspect foul play
Bile rose into the back of her throat, its burn punishing. Her eyes tingled. The bold lettering danced around the page. She let the paper fall to the ground. Steve’s soft voice reached her like tender arms.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. His feet crunched over the residual dead leaves that littered the ground. He sat down closer to her, his hand taking hers.
Kelly sat up, allowing the air she’d kept buried in her lungs to escape. “This is my fault,” she told him. Her declaration choked out of her, breaking into sobs that came harder.
“You don’t know that,” Steve said, stroking his hand over hers, his tone as light as his touch. “I knew you were going to say that.” He sighed.
Kelly faced him, shifting her seat on the rock. “How can you not see it?” she asked, releasing his hand, and flinging hers into the air.
Steve took both of her hands, bringing them back down into his lap. “Because…we don’t know all the details. Do you?” Steve asked, his brows pulling together. His hard gaze stilled her. “Is something going on with him? A disgruntled employee, or is someone trying to blackmail him?”
“Someone probably found out he was dating a vagrant and may have done just that,” she barked back, irate. Kelly leaned her head on his shoulder, needing a steady anchor. Steve didn’t deserve to be force-fed the frustration that was now pressing down her.
“Again…”—Steve’s tone went flat—“you’re making an assumption, one you’re insisting is true.”
Tension crept between them, tainted by an occasional car passing through on the perimeter of the only refuge she had. “That house was so beautiful.” Her voice cracked. The tears came, burning down her cheeks. Her fucked-up life had now affected someone else’s, a life that’d been stable and tranquil. Kelly couldn’t let that happen. Her previous evening with Drake Larson would be the last, and what a swan song it was.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“So you’re saying that she was angry when you terminated the relationship?” Detective Crain glanced up from his notepad.
“Yes, she was,” Drake confessed, running his hands through his hair. He sank back into the couch cushions. Detective Crain paced around his living room, his eyes taking in every detail of Drake’s living quarters. His authoritative voice boomed through the quiet silence.
“I’m taking it the structure was insured?” he asked, resting a hand on his loaded utility belt. The leather creaked as he shifted his weight.
“Oh yeah, I’m just glad I wasn’t there.” Drake chuckled. “I was just there a week ago.”
“Did your new companion happen to accompany you?” Detective Crain’s wiry brows lifted.
“She did.” Drake sat up, everything suddenly piecing together.
Nina! God, why?
Drake shook off the thought. His head throbbed. He’d gotten the call in the wee hours of the morning. By the time he’d arrived, the house was a pile of smoldering ash. Detective Crain’s voice broke through his scrambled notions.
“Jealousy is a dangerous thing, Mr. Larson…makes some people do crazy things, believe me,” Detective Crain said, giving him a knowing look. “We’ve still got the arson team up there. They’re very thorough so we’ll be in touch. If there’s anything else…”
“Yeah, yeah,” Drake said, mumbling. His mind was careening in a million different directions. “I’ll call.” Detective Crain handed Drake his card.
Drake showed him out, still disorientated with Detective Crain’s theory. Drake tried to paint the picture in his mind of Nina torching his home. The image just wouldn’t come. Drake shook it off, the idea incomprehensible.
* * * *
The rest of the day passed in a blur. Drake called the office, stressing that he was fine, but wouldn’t be in for a few days. Keith assured him that he’d handle whatever needed to be dealt with.