Midnight (McKenna Chronicles Book 1) (51 page)

I
break away only for the moment it takes for him to help me sit. We position
ourselves, my legs straddling his waist, feet planted on the ground behind
him, his erection pressing against my opening, pulsing with need. I grip
him, holding and squeezing tight. He groans at the contact.

“Let
me feel you,” I whisper, loving the smooth, powerful weight of him in my hand.
With the perfect amount of pressure, I slide over and up, taking special care
of the tip. With a harsh, exhaled breath he grips my waist, pressing his
fingers into me almost painfully, yet there is only satisfaction.  He is
here. Here with me and for me. I have wondered so often why he wants this,
wants me and now I don’t care. The fact is—he does. Colin McKenna wants me and
I him. There is no one else; he’s ruined me for another man’s touch. Anything
else would pale in comparison to the pure, raw passion flowing between us.

Removing
his fingers, his arm winds around my back, steadying my movement, and I reach
my hands to hold his neck. 

“I
need you, Charlie.” His mouth finds mine, our tongues sliding against each
other at the same moment he glides into me, my body clenching to adjust to his
breadth. He fills me so completely we groan simultaneously, the sweet joy of
our connection fulfilled. I begin to rock on my heels and the movement pulls
him from me gently. When I roll back up he sinks in deeply, filling,
stretching, taking. We set a steady rhythm, rocking back and forth, in and out.
Our lips move together, stroking and taunting until our breath comes in panting
waves. I take his bottom lip between mine, sucking and nipping him gently.

I’m
so close. My legs begin to tighten, my breath coming in quick pants as my body
trembles over him. Suddenly Colin loosens his hands on my back, dropping me to
his stretched out legs.

“No,”
I moan. “Please.” My feet are on either side of his hips and he pushes my knees
so they fall open.  

“I
want to watch you.”

“Ohhh,”
I groan and he begins to roll his thumb lazily around my swollen clitoris. I
hold in a cry as I almost come from his touch. His eyes are scorching with
sensuality and the enormity of feeling radiating from their dark blue depths is
humbling. I’m hypnotized by his stare; it’s as if he can see inside of me.
Every wish, each dream, all of my needs, seized by him and held hostage until
it’s time to give them back, my wishes granted, dreams fulfilled, needs sated.

“Oh,
Colin. I . . . I . . .” I want to tell him how good he makes me feel, how good
he feels, but I can’t formulate the words. His gaze intensifies and I have to
look away.

My
head turns into his leg, trying desperately to manage the myriad of sensations
throbbing through my body. I grab his free hand in mine, inadvertently pulling
him further into me. Colin’s low groan is my only indication I’m not the only
one enjoying this game. His thumb continues its sensual torture and I begin to
tremble. My legs shake with the strength and speed at which I climb. I’m
panting out incoherent words while my body sings a sweet song, glowing just for
him, a warm flush taking over.

“Let
go, baby, let me see you come.” His voice is strained as his thumb flicks and
then presses down onto my clitoris.

I
scream out his name unabashedly as I explode. Contracting deeply I squeeze my
legs around his waist, overwhelmed by the enormity of my intense, never-ending
climax. Groaning, I roll my hips into him so his erection moves deeper and his
thumb continues to stroke me, taking everything my body will give. When time
and space return, I open my eyes to find him watching me, his jaw clenching to
manage my orgasm grasping around him.

“Do
you know what you do me, Charlie?” His voice surprises me from my stupor and I
can’t form a response, so he continues. “You captivate me; I can’t think
straight without you. I need to possess every breath, every word that breaks
through your lips. I can see you now, radiant, ripe with need. Tell me it’s
only us, baby, that it’s only me that makes you feel this way. I need to hear
you say it.”

I
use his hand to pull myself up into a sitting position, his erection pushing
deeper inside of me as I do. His mouth opens but no sound escapes.

“It’s
only you, Colin. You’re all I want, everything I need,” I breathe into his
mouth and rock on my heels, slowly at first, moving him in and out of my still
trembling body. His head falls forward onto my shoulder, his breath floating
over me with each thrust. We move together, synchronizing our bodies, finding
harmony in the union. His erection is pulsing, throbbing in his hunger for
release. He feels so good moving artfully against and in me. His breath is
ragged, pushed from his lungs in harsh bursts of heat against my neck.

I
know when his release is imminent as he pulls me even harder onto him, pushing
in deeply with his arms around my back, and my name falls from his lips
quietly. He stills completely and explodes, the exquisite sensation sending me
off into an unexpected climax of my own.

We
stay fixed together. The only movement is our pulsing bodies and our heightened
breathing.  Colin’s lips find mine in a sweet, gentle kiss as his hands
massage my lower back. I pull my lips from his, placing his face between my
hands. “Thank you.”

He
smiles at me gently and I think he doesn’t understand fully what I’m saying.

“Thank
you,” I say again, “for everything. For coming here today to be with me.” I
kiss him lightly. “And for being mine.” I whisper against his lips before
falling into him and putting every ounce of feeling I have for him into the
depth of this kiss. I love him so very much. When I break away he’s breathless
again, his eyes searching mine intently. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I
crush him to me. I'll never let him go.  

~

The
sun has dipped below the trees when we stroll hand in hand back to the house.
As we climb the gravel driveway I can see the fire sparking high licks of flame
in the pit near the beach. The sounds of crackling, snapping timber fill the
early evening air, the scent of summer floating in invitation to join the
family by the fire.

Colin
stops abruptly, pulling me hard into his chest. His free hand reaches to hold
my cheek, caressing it gently with his thumb. His eyes are a deep, thoughtful
blue as he leans down to press his lips against mine, slowly molding himself to
me. My heart skips a beat as it always does when he’s near, when he touches me,
when he shows his feelings through our physical connection.

He
leans his forehead against mine and steadies his breathing, allowing time for
my racing heart to calm. I quickly kiss him once more, saddened our alone time
is over for now.

Pulling
away so I can look at him, I say, “You should grab your bag and bring it
inside.”

Stopping
at the car, he grabs a small bag from the back seat. When he meets me, he takes
my hand in his again and we walk connected into the house. Sammy is just
heading out with all of the ingredients for s’mores in his hand.

“Hurry
up Charlie. Bring your guitar with you when you come.”

The
door shuts loudly as he exits and I pull Colin over to the small staircase in
the corner of the room that leads to the loft. When we’re upstairs I flick the
switch to brighten the room. My mom must have put on fresh sheets while we were
gone; the covers are turned back invitingly. When I glance at Colin his face is
expressionless, lost in thought. I tilt my head, waiting for him to tell me.

“Guitar?”
Colin questions, looking at me quizzically.

“My
dad taught me when I was fifteen. He played casually, mostly up here at the
lake. When I showed an interest in music, he taught me what little he knew and
then I took lessons for a couple of years. I used it as an escape.

“I
could feel the music. When I played I didn’t have to endure anything else; it
was very cathartic at the time. Now I just play songs by the fire.”

He
smiles, shaking his head.

“What?”
I ask.

“It’s
nothing. I . . .” He stops, contemplating what he wants to say. “I learn
something new about you all the time, you’re . . . refreshing.”

“Refreshing?”
I laugh. “Is that good?”

He
pounces, grabbing my hips and pressing me into him, a hand pulling my face to
his for a quick, passionate kiss. “It’s very good,” he breathes.

I
lean back until I can see his face. “What do you mean by refreshing?”

Colin
stares for a moment before answering. “Charlie, the women I know are shallow;
material possessions are at the height of importance. They determine friends
and acquaintances by how that person will affect and benefit their social
status. You’re not interested in any of that; you play guitar by the campfire.
It’s refreshing.”

I
don’t know what to say, so I give him a quick kiss and to lighten the mood I
swat his butt. “Put something warm on, it gets chilly by the fire.”

And
then, because it seems fitting, I start singing the Chiffons’, “He’s So Fine
”
.
Changing up the words to fit my truth, I sing with an exaggerated rhythm. Such
a handsome man, the one with wavy hair, I’ve made him mine and I’m the envy of
just about every woman in the United States. Mmhmm, I sigh and he laughs
pulling me from my reverie.

My
mom brought my bag upstairs and I grin at her thoughtfulness. She knew I would
never ask if I could sleep in the same bed with him—our very traditional family
values not supporting sharing a room before marriage. After being with him for
months of travel she must have assumed we’ve already broken that rule.

I
grab a new pair of jeans, since those I had on earlier are in the wash from the
spray of dirty water. My ankle is throbbing. Sitting on the bed, I lift it up
to take a peek. It’s significantly swollen and pushing the limits of the
bandages Ali put on earlier.

Colin
is standing over me, concern stretched across his lovely face. “Here, let me
re-bandage it for you so it’s not so tight. You need to take more ibuprofen
too, and put it up by the fire so the swelling will come down.”

“How’d
you get so knowledgeable about first aid? You had me under running water so
fast, I didn’t even think about it.”

His
smile is small. “Boy scouts, Charlie. I was first in my group to get the
first-aid patch.”

Boy
scouts
. I should have known he was a boy scout—top of his class, no doubt.
His touch is gentle as he unwraps my ankle from the sterile gauze Ali used. The
skin beneath is angry and red. His brow is furrowed as he works, sighing every
few minutes as he stares at the welts, the skin already blistered in places.

“It
doesn’t hurt that bad,” I whisper so he’ll feel better.

“I
just have to try to get used to it, that’s all.” His eyes meet mine.

“Get
used to what?”

“Your
injuries.”

I
laugh happily. “Yes, you will, because you’re not going anywhere and neither am
I.” I beam, throwing my arms around his neck for a kiss.

~

Colin
is smoking hot in a heavy gray cable-knit sweater, open at the neck, showing
his dark T-shirt underneath. Pair it with his loose jeans and he is male-model
gorgeous. I pale in comparison to his beauty; there’s no way I can compete with
perfection, so I give up and throw on a big, soft college sweatshirt with
loose, worn jeans. I’m comfortable and relaxed.

We
walk hand in hand to the fire, his other hand carrying my well used guitar.
Colin guides me to an open chair; before I can sit, he pulls it back from the
fire. I roll my eyes. “You’re afraid I’ll fall into the flames?”

“You
can never be too careful, Charlie,” he says with sincerity.

Ian
brings Colin a chair so he can sit next me and he hands us both a beer.

“Did
you have a nice
walk
?” Ali asks with a slick, sassy smile on her lips.

I’m
saved from responding when Colin casually answers, “We did, thank you. Charlie
was kind enough to show me some of her favorite childhood places. It’s a very
beautiful spot you have here, Keith, Anna.” Ever the gentleman, he moves the
topic away from us easily and my dad starts telling Colin how we came to have
the lake house and where my grandparents live. I stick my tongue out at Ali,
who laughs at me. It’s a perfect night.

“Come
on, Charlie, play a song for us.” Sammy is eager as ever to begin.

“Okay,
which one do you want to sing?”

“Play
Dad’s song.”

I
smile. “Okay, Dad, you’re up.”

I
start; it’s a quick, beat, and everyone begins clapping immediately. I look to
Colin. He has a smile on his face and claps along as my dad begins to sing Jim
Croche’s “Bad, Bad LeRoy Brown” in his low timbre that isn’t expected from his
thin frame.

Ali,
Ian and Sammy jump in for the chorus. I tap my foot to the clapping hands
keeping time, smiling. I don’t join in the singing, letting my family’s voices
wash over me, bringing me home in my heart.

I
move directly into my mom’s song, John Denver’s “Country Road.” Her voice is
high and sweet, floating through the night, sparkling like the fire. Everyone
sings softly with her to support her light voice. I hear Colin’s low tenor join
in the singing, with a joy on his face I haven’t seen before. My heart aches
for him; I love that he’s happy here with me and my family. He fits perfectly.

After
a few silly songs to satisfy Ian, Ali interjects, “Now you, Charlie. Sing your
song. I haven’t heard it in so long.” I know she’s asking me to do this on
purpose. I glare at her. She smiles in return.  

Colin’s
head turns to me, his right eyebrow raised. My stomach falls; I’m not prepared
to sing with him here.

“It’s
not a campfire song,” I argue. This is not the time or place for the song I
like to sing when I’m alone.