Dangerous Kiss (16 page)

He remembered the excitement mixed with foreboding as his fingers had flown across the keyboard. He must have looked over his shoulder a million times to make sure his father couldn’t see the screen. It had only taken a few minutes and boom, he’d found her.

“She’d gotten remarried a few years after she left us. They lived on a ranch two hours outside of Denver. I told my dad I was going to a concert with friends and drove out there. I parked my truck on the side of the road, down a bit from their dirt driveway. There was a mailbox there. I figured she’d have to get the mail eventually. She did. She looked a bit grayer, heavier than dad’s pictures, but it was her.”

His gut had wrenched when she’d checked her mail. He’d looked down at his white knuckles wrapped around the steering wheel as hate and love spun around inside him in a confused whirlwind. Even now, the picture of her reaching into that battered metal mailbox put a hitch in his breath.

“Then I saw the school bus in my rearview mirror. She waved as it slowed down. A boy and a girl got out. Elementary-school age, both of them. And she smiled at them, hugged them. She loved them. I could see it.”

The profound sense of rejection had hit him like a slap across the face. Ever since, with every emotionless hookup and cold, calculating move, he’d distanced himself from the women who floated through his life.

Until now. Until Claire.

Jake looked down. He’d crushed the egg Claire had given him, the slimy yolk dripping from his fingers. “I must have left marks on the road, I took off so fast.”

She handed him a towel. “Did you ever go back? Contact her at all?”

He shook his head and tossed the dirty towel onto the prep table. “No. That part of my life’s over. Doesn’t matter anymore.”

Thankfully, she said nothing to that. He locked up his teenage-boy hurt and cracked the rest of the eggs into the bowl in silence.

He had breakfast-for-dinner whipped up in no time. Claire sat on the prep table eating with gusto. He forgot all about his food when a syrup-drenched piece of French toast left a trail of sticky sweetness on the corner of her mouth. Her tongue darted out to swipe at it. Unable to get it all that way, she wiped up the rest with her middle finger and sucked it off.

His body went on high alert. His pulse hammered and blood rushed through his veins, engorging his cock. He thought he had been rock hard before, now he worried his zipper wouldn’t hold.

She caught him staring with his fork frozen halfway to his mouth. Turning beet red, she dropped her gaze. Then a devilish smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

Trouble. Just the kind he liked. He waited, food forgotten, anxious to see what she’d do next.

She parted her cherry lips and her gaze darted over to him. She blew him a kiss and then…she hummed.

What the hell?

Dumbstruck, he watched her eat the last bite of French toast.

She hopped down from the table, strutted over to the industrial sink and dumped her plate. She grabbed a tiny square package from a shelf and tossed it to him. Without looking his way, she slipped off her red dress and left it puddled on the floor. Claire sashayed down the hallway, her swaying ass framing the jade-green thong.

Jake could live to be a hundred and he didn’t think he’d ever see a sexier sight. Her voluptuous curves nearly overwhelmed his senses. He couldn’t wait to trace a finger across her peach nipples and slide into her wet folds. His balls tightened when her butt jiggled as she strutted away.

Then she looked back over her shoulder, a come-hither look in her chocolate-colored eyes.

“Coming?”

Was he ever.

He looked down in his hand. A condom. She must have snuck it into their grocery bag at the Stop and Sip when he hadn’t been looking.

He jerked his head back up. For a few beats, Jake watched her saunter down the hallway. Unable to resist the view any longer, he rushed to catch her.

She unhooked her bra and dropped the flimsy scrap of silky material to the hallway floor. Lust slammed into his stomach and then sank lower, making his cock harder than the cast iron pan he’d used to make the French toast. The brief side view of her heavy, round breasts as she turned into another room sent all his blood straight to his dick. His body reacted like that of an untried fifteen-year-old boy. It had been a long time since a peek of side boob had pre-cum staining his boxers.

Damn. Claire astounded him, body and mind. Even with the light-purple bruise on her cheek, half hidden behind her waves of red hair, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He didn’t know when or how, but he’d make sure Darcy paid for punching her after setting her Jeep on fire. But right now, Darcy was in police custody and a naked Claire waited for him somewhere down the hall.

He found her in the employee lounge. A leather couch lined one wall. Humming refrigerator, sink and counter lined the other. In the middle stood Claire, her inviting nipples pointing toward him. She crooked one red painted fingernail at him.

Jake crossed the room in two long strides and wrapped her up in his arms. Her puckered nipples poked his chest through his shirt and sent fire through his veins. He leaned down, capturing her sweet mouth with his. He teased her mouth open, the syrup lingering on her tongue promised of sweeter things to come. Nectar from the gods couldn’t have tasted better.

He ran his hands down her back, cupped her soft ass and pulled her against his groin. Pleasure so intense it almost hurt exploded in him as she ground her damp pussy against his jeans. He almost came from that friction alone.

She moaned into his mouth. Her fingers dug into his taut shoulders as she stretched herself upward, arching into him.

The need to bury himself inside her, hear her call out his name again, almost overwhelmed him. He lifted his head.

The heady look in her eyes shot him back to the moment when he’d held her at the railroad tracks after she’d first confronted Darcy. Her red hair had been flying every which way, her face starting to bruise and dirt streaking her cheeks. She’d been through hell, but remained undaunted. He’d been so turned on by her fiery spirit, he’d wanted to secret her to a dark corner and fuck her senseless. She had felt the same, judging by her diamond-hard nipples and her do-me look. He’d managed to stop himself, just barely, telling her they’d regret their actions. He’d been an idiot.

“I was wrong,” he mumbled as he kissed the spot below her earlobe. “I’m not going to regret this at all.”

She laughed, low and breathless as her ample breasts rubbed against his chest. Her fast fingers unbuttoned his shirt setting off shocks. The pleasure nearly overwhelmed him and he let out a groan of his own.

Lifting her against him, he reveled in how good she felt in his arms. Determined to make her his, he carried her to the couch. Sitting back on the smooth leather, he kept his hands on her fleshy hips as she straddled him. Her breasts swayed, tempting him. He licked one erect nipple and closed his lips around the hard nub. She moaned and arched her back, digging her fingers into his shoulders.

Letting go almost killed him, but he had to get out of his clothes. She slid to his side on the couch. They continued to kiss as he yanked off his shirt, buttons flying everywhere, and stood.

Their hands battled at his waistband. She won. He shucked off his shoes as she unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. With anxious fingers, she slid his cotton boxers and jeans to his ankles. Entranced by the gleam in her eyes, Jake kicked them off.

Looking down, he saw the tip of her pink tongue lick her luscious lips, his cock pointed at her. She took him into her warm, wet mouth. His vision went black. His knees nearly buckled. Her talented tongue lapped at the pre-cum glistening against the head of his cock and had him ready to explode. He stepped back and brought her pliant body up.

She sucked on her bottom lip, pushed him down to the couch. Her fingers toyed with the strap of her thong. The red of her fingernails against the green of her underwear reminded him of Christmas. She was one package he couldn’t wait to unwrap.

He looked up at her body silhouetted in the harsh fluorescent light. For anyone else, the lighting and angle would have been unflattering, but not his Claire. He was bewitched by the confidence and strength hidden beneath her sexy-as-hell body. An invisible force kicked him in the gut.

“What are you doing to me?” he whispered.

She slipped her thong over her creamy hips and let them fall down her long legs. “Making you happy.”

“Good, I was afraid you were trying to kill me.”

She smiled. “They do call it the little death.”

Claire took the condom from his hand. She ripped the package open and slid the latex on, her fingers unrolling it down the length of his cock. The light touch of her fingers teased his erection and made it throb.

Looking at her hand curled around the base of his dick, he worried he’d come from her fingers alone. He tried to convert fractions, remember the preamble to the Constitution and anything else he could think of to stop himself from shooting right then.

When she straddled him and lowered herself onto his rigid cock, he could have died a happy man. Her warmth tightened around him and desire tightened his balls. Pleasure rippled outward from where they joined. He dragged a thumb across her peach nipple and pinched the nub lightly. Entranced by the sight of her delicious breasts, he held a rounded peak to his mouth and sucked on the large nipple.

Small whimpers escaped her lips. She increased the pace, riding him hard and fast. Her moist pussy ground against him as she enveloped him in smooth, deep strokes.

“More,” she cried.

Happy to oblige, he flipped her onto her back and thrust deep into her hot, silken pussy. His body awash in sensation so pleasurable it had him trembling, he tried to slow down to make it last, but her fingernails dug into his back in protest. Her hips met his every thrust, wild passionate cries escaping her lips. Like this, locked in each other’s arms, they fit. Perfect.

“Claire.” Her name came out in a strangled cry as he neared the abyss. He couldn’t hold on much longer.

Her inner muscles undulated against him and squeezed. Her whole body tensed in his arms as she came around his dick, screaming his name to the ceiling. His balls tightened and he buried himself to the hilt. He came inside her with the force of a tidal wave, moaning his release into her hair.

In that moment of blissed-out clarity it hit him—he never wanted to leave.

Claire brushed her fingers through Jake’s soft black hair. His head lay nestled on her shoulder. He’d flung an arm across her waist; the weight of it warmed her, like the world’s sexiest security blanket. She relaxed until her bones were the consistency of melted butter. All was right with the world.

Content and satisfied, she willed herself not to think. She reined in any imaginings of before or after, of what could or couldn’t be. There was only right now.

“I don’t want to move ever again.” His breath tickled her neck.

Claire empathized completely. “Eventually, you’ll have to.”

He rose up onto his forearms. “Why? Am I squashing you? I don’t want to hurt you.”

True, her stomach and ribs still ached a bit from the Voice of Doom’s kick by the train tracks and her wrist remained stiff, but that wasn’t the hurt she worried about. She didn’t see any way Jake could avoid making her heart ache. It stung already. She sucked at the whole not-thinking thing.

“What is it?” Concern shone in his eyes.

Talking about him leaving would only make it seem more real. She wasn’t ready to push open the curtains of reality. “I need to go freshen up.”

“Hurry back.” He nipped her earlobe. Kissed it better.

In the doorway she paused and looked back. Jake lay on his back. An arm rested across his forehead. He was so tall, he barely fit on the couch. Tears sprung to her eyes. She blinked them back. Tomorrow would be soon enough for that.

She scooped up her bra from the hallway and grabbed her dress off the kitchen floor. Slipping it on, she trudged to the dining room bathroom, her heavy heart making every step an effort.

The toilet wouldn’t stop running as she washed her hands. She walked into the stall and jiggled the handle. The water continued to rush inside the porcelain tank.

Great. Like I don’t have enough falling apart in my life right now
.

Claire lifted the heavy tank lid to adjust the flush valve.

She gasped. Her heart stopped beating for a moment.

A plastic sandwich bag lay at the bottom of the tank. It had sunk so far down, it forced the valve to stay open. A phone and flash drive were visible inside the clear plastic Baggie.

Holy crap. I’ve found it.

C
laire twirled around and performed her happy dance in the claustrophobic bathroom stall. It was part hip shimmy, part ass shake and all celebration. She’d found it. Giggling, she added some shoulder bounces to the soundtrack playing in her head. Sure, she’d discovered it by fluke, but still she’d found it!