Set the Dark on Fire (21 page)

Ricky was twelve, much too young for the burden she was about to put on him. His brown eyes darted back and forth as the wheels in his mind turned, considering what kind of trouble he’d gotten into lately.

It must have been bad, because his shoulders slumped forward and he nodded, taking a seat on the couch, resigned to his fate.

She smiled at his antics, although her heart was breaking. “Now that Juan Carlos is gone, you’re the man of the house. Besides Dad, I mean.”

He narrowed his eyes. Ricky wasn’t good in school, but he was street smart and sharp. “I guess so,” he said. He probably didn’t want the role, or to take on any new responsibilities.

Too bad.

“I need you to take care of Daniel and Yoli.”

He leapt to his feet.
“Ya los cuido!”
he protested, tapping his thin chest.
I already do
.

She glanced out the window, making sure her brother and sister hadn’t overheard. Daniel was a quiet, sensitive boy, and he wouldn’t take the news of her leaving well. Ricky was more like Juan Carlos, fiercely independent and ready to take on the world.

Yoli, in particular, would be devastated.

She hated the thought of her sister crying herself to sleep at night, like Angel had done so often after her mother left. Yoli had shared a bed with Angel for the first four years of her life, and had been more like a daughter to her than a sister. Angel’s arms ached at the thought of not being there to comfort her, to hold her when she got hurt, to hug her close and smell her hair, to kiss the curls on top of her sweet head. Tears spilled down her cheeks.

She brushed them away impatiently.

“You’re leaving,” Ricky accused.

“I’m getting a job.”

“You can get a job here.”

Sure she could. Waiting tables at Esperanza’s until she was twenty-one and serving drinks at the Round-Up after that. Or she could skip those middle steps and move right into the position Yesenia Montes had just vacated.

The job she planned on doing in Las Vegas wasn’t much better, but at least she wouldn’t be shaming her family while living under her father’s roof. And what other options were available for an uneducated girl with no job skills? She could work in a fast food restaurant or as a maid, and only make enough money to cover her own expenses.

If she could do it any other way, she would.

She took her brother by the hand. “I’m doing this for you guys. The money I send back will help Dad pay the bills.”

He glowered at her, trying to jerk his hand away.

“I have to go today,” she said, almost choking on the words. “Tell Yoli and Daniel I love them. And know that I love you.”

His face darkened with resentment. “If you loved us, you would stay.”

Agony washed over her. “Please,” she whispered, holding his hand, squeezing it tight. “Don’t say anything until tonight.”

He nodded once and she released him. Without another word, he ran out the door and across the front yard, meeting Yoli and Daniel by the side of the road. Angel went to stand at the window, waiting there until the bus came, like she always did.

When Yoli turned and waved, like she always did, flashing her gap-toothed smile, Angel felt her heart tear in two. She lifted her hand and waved back, like she always did, and as soon as the bus pulled away, she sank to the floor in the living room and cried.

She cried for her mother, who’d brought a new baby into the world even though she couldn’t take care of her other five children. She cried for her father, who’d never gotten over her mother, even though she wasn’t worthy of his love. She cried for Juan Carlos, whose criminal career was probably flourishing in juvenile hall, and for Ricky, who rarely had good days at school and wouldn’t have one today.

And finally, she cried for her little sister, who needed her most.

When she was done she felt worse instead of better, but she deserved that. She chased down an aspirin with a Coke and spent a few moments resting with a wet washcloth over her swollen eyes. After some of the tightness in her chest eased, she got up and started cleaning. She wanted the house to be perfect before she left.

Soon the breakfast dishes were put away, the laundry was done, the floors were swept and the counters cleared. Her ride wouldn’t come for a few more hours, and she was too antsy to sit still. To kill some more time, she went to her studio to get ready.

She showered and dressed and applied her makeup with shaking hands. Nothing too heavy, just a little mascara and a touch of lip gloss. She wanted to get hired, but she wasn’t a tramp. Not yet. Besides, men liked young, innocent-looking women, did they not?

Unable to meet her eyes in the mirror, she left the bathroom. For the third time in four days, someone startled her on her own turf. Dylan Phillips burst through the front door of her bedroom and pulled it shut behind him.

“Snell’s after me,” he panted, bracing his back against the door. A pulse beat rapidly at the base of his throat. “He just stopped at my house.”

“What did you do?”

He gulped and shook his head, refusing to tell her.

“Oh, Dylan,” she said in an admonishing tone, moving toward the window. If he got arrested again he’d be leaving Tenaja Falls the same way Juan Carlos had, in the back of a police car. Sure enough, Deputy Snell was driving his black-and-white cruiser along Calle Remolino, slowing down in front of her house. He must not have seen Dylan come this way, because instead of parking at the curb, he floored the engine and took off.

“He’s gone,” she said, turning back to Dylan.

He sank to a sitting position against the door, relief washing over his fine features. He was kind of sweaty, and his thin cotton T-shirt clung to the lean muscles in his chest. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bust in on you like that.”

It was her turn to shrug.

His eyes cruised over her. “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere,” she said quickly.

“You look pretty.”

She warmed at the compliment. “Thanks.” Nice clothes were a luxury the Martinez clan couldn’t afford, but she was wearing her newest jeans and a slinky purple top. It was cut lower than her usual style, revealing the V between her breasts. His gaze lingered there, and she went from warm to hot.

Suddenly, she knew exactly what she wanted to do to kill the time.

Dylan was a convenient distraction, but he was also the only boy she’d ever really wanted to sleep with. Her experience with Chad had been more about punishment than pleasure, and her embraces with Tony had never ventured beyond a chaste kiss.

Her pulse pounded at the thought of being with Dylan before she left. This was her last chance. Her last choice.

Although she was far from worldly, she knew that taking off her clothes for strange men would change her as a person. The idea of letting them ogle her naked body made her feel dirty.

Dylan made her feel … sexy. Wanted. Beautiful.

This might be her last opportunity to be with him, or anyone, before she became jaded. She might not ever see him again. She might not ever see herself.

The misery she felt a few short hours ago didn’t disappear, but it receded into the background, replaced by a weighty feeling of power and a comforting physical excitement. Her chest rose and fell with every breath, holding his attention.

Unlike her oblivious ex-boyfriend, Dylan Phillips was easily captivated.

There was also something different about him today. Normally, he kept his eyes on her face, only letting them drop to her chest when he thought she wasn’t looking. She didn’t know what he’d done to get in trouble with the law, and she didn’t really care, but it must have been pretty bad. It seemed as though his wild, defiant side had taken over, and he was staring at her openly, not bothering to hide his desire.

She moistened her lips slowly and fidgeted with the spaghetti strap of her tank top, tracing the bodice with one fingertip. “Do you want to sit on my bed?”

His gaze jumped back up to hers. Although it was obvious he wanted her, he was tired of getting jerked around. The sexual glaze in his eyes didn’t clear; it just took on a more predatory edge. “Only if I get to fuck you on it.”

A thrill raced through her at his words. She knew he was insulting her, repaying her for toying with him one too many times. The last thing he expected was for her to agree to his terms. “Okay,” she said anyway, doing exactly that.

20

Dylan regretted the words the instant they flew out of his stupid mouth. He liked Angel, he respected her, and he was maybe even halfway in love with her. Instead of letting her know he had real feelings for her, he blurted out that sex-crazed crap?

And she said … okay? He must be losing his mind. “Okay?” he repeated, thinking he’d fantasized her response.

She nibbled on her lush lower lip, torturing him. “Yeah. But just this once.”

He was already up and across the room, shrugging out of his backpack. “Why?”

She sat down on the bed, stretching her arms out behind her and bracing her palms on the surface. The position lifted her breasts, causing the impressive swells to strain against the edge of her top. “Because I want to.”

His throat went dry and his hands itched to touch her. Rubbing his sweaty palms against his jeans, he took a seat beside her. “I mean, why only once?”

“I have my reasons.”

Call him insane, but he was kind of reluctant. He’d been obsessing about this moment for the past four years. Dirty-dream sequences and
Penthouse Forum
scenarios aside, he’d always figured he’d have to talk her into it. “Is it because you’re ashamed to be seen with me?”

Her eyes softened. “No. I’d be proud to be your girl.”

“Then why—”

“Shh,” she said, putting her fingertip against his lips. “I don’t want to talk.”

He didn’t understand her, or even really believe her, but when she continued to touch his lips, tracing them lightly and staring at his mouth as if there was something interesting about it, all of the blood in his head went south, robbing him of the ability to think. And when she leaned toward him, brushing her thoroughly delicious lips over his completely unremarkable ones, any second thoughts he’d been entertaining fled.

By the way she plastered herself against him, clutching the front of his shirt, he was pretty sure she didn’t want to take it slow. He did, so he put his hands on her hips and held her back a little. Using one of the techniques she taught him, he tugged her lower lip into his mouth, sucking gently.

She made a low, urgent sound, somewhere between a growl and a moan, and shoved at his shoulders.

He released her immediately.

She pushed him down on the bed and climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. The proof of his arousal was right there, pulsing against her, and he knew she could feel it, because she rubbed herself along him, her dark eyes burning into his.

And as if that weren’t enough to send him over the edge, she lifted her shirt and tossed it aside.

“Oh my God,” he groaned. Her bra was black as sin and twice as sexy, her pinup model breasts threatening to spill over the lacy cups. Not sure if he wanted to stop her or encourage her to keep moving, he gripped her slim hips. “You’re killing me.”

She smiled and tugged on his T-shirt. He leaned forward, helping her take it off, and when his bare chest met her luscious breasts, he knew he’d died and gone to heaven.

His mouth sought hers, and he was no longer interested in, or capable of, taking it slow. He deepened the kiss and thrust his lower body against hers, intent on penetrating every part of her he could get access to. He wanted to touch every part of her, and taste it, too, so he reached for her breasts. “Oh, God,” he repeated, enraptured by the feel of all that soft, lace-encased flesh in his hands. Her nipples burned into the centers of his palms.

“Dylan,” she said, covering his hands with hers and squeezing harder.

He didn’t know how to take her bra off, and he wasn’t even going to try. Instead he touched his lips to her bare shoulder, delighting in the way she shivered, and nudged the silky black strap aside. It slipped down, hanging in a sexy loop on her upper arm. He pushed the other strap off her shoulder, but the cups of her bra stayed up.

He frowned, trying to make it disappear with his eyes.

With a breathy laugh, she threaded her fingers through his short hair and brought his mouth back to hers. They tangled together, tongues and hands and bodies. For a moment, he was lost in a round of frantic kissing and fervent groping, reveling in the heat of her mouth and the soft weight of her body flexing against his. Her bra didn’t disintegrate, but he was able to get the lacy cup down far enough that her nipple popped free. Mesmerized by the sight, he leaned forward and wet the dusky tip with his tongue.

She moaned, tightening her grip on his hair.

It hurt. And he loved it.

Panting, he pushed down the fabric covering her other nipple and repeated the action, looking for the same response. He got it. Moaning and hair-pulling.

Jesus God.

She smelled so … womanly, like rose-scented soap and freshly washed hair, and her skin was so … warm. He buried his face between her breasts and tightened his hands on her hips, praying for strength, patience, and longevity.

“Do you have a condom?” she asked, stroking the back of his neck.

He tried to reel his brain back in. It was a monumental task. “I think so,” he rasped. “I mean, yeah. It’s in my wallet.”

“Is it old?”

He blinked up at her. “A couple months, maybe.”

She sat back and held out her palm. “Let’s see it.”

He kept his wallet in his front pocket because he didn’t like sitting on it at school all day, so she had to lift up a little to give him access. Taking the square package out, he handed it to her, trying not to feel embarrassed about the no-frills, “one size fits all” option. Not to mention the straining erection it would soon cover. Right now his dick felt big enough to burst, but he wasn’t so warped he thought he needed Magnums.

She inspected the package and nodded, apparently satisfied that the latex hadn’t been disintegrating in his wallet for the past four years.

They were being responsible, and he was glad, but the short interruption had changed the dynamic between them. She nibbled at her lower lip, appearing shy and uncertain and far more innocent than her sexy body and provocative lingerie suggested.

She looked scared.

He knew exactly how she felt. “We don’t have to do this,” he said, clearing his throat. “I mean, I want to, obviously, but … I’d rather have you forever than just this once.”

To his bewilderment, tears filled her eyes. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his collarbone, her black hair spilling across his chest. “This is all I can give you, Dylan,” she whispered. “Make just this once last forever.”

No pressure, though.

Desperate not to disappoint her, even though he was confused by her behavior, he rolled her onto her back. He might not know anything about sex, and he would never be an expert on the female brain, but he knew what his own body was begging for. He covered her mouth with his and ground his hips against hers, trying to possess her through layers of denim.

Maddened by the restrictions, he ended the kiss. “Take off your pants.”

Her eyes darkened and her breath hitched. Holding his gaze, she undid the top button on her jeans. Unable to help himself, he looked down as she lowered her zipper, revealing a strip of silky-looking skin, the pathway to heaven.

Eager to see more, he moved to the side, giving her room to maneuver.

As if she was afraid she might chicken out, she shucked out of her jeans quickly. Her panties weren’t black, like her bra. Nor were they lace. They were hot pink and very sheer, showcasing the shadowy triangle between her legs.

Dylan almost swallowed his tongue. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Earlier today he’d barely escaped getting hauled off to jail. And now he was in bed with a girl who looked like a
Playboy
centerfold.

“Thank you, Jesus,” he breathed, beholding God’s most perfect creation.

She smiled a little but still seemed nervous, so he made no move to take off her panties. He did release the buttons on his fly, because his dick was aching, and then he went ahead and shoved down the front of his boxers, because—well, fuck it.

Her eyes widened and a faint blush crept over her cheeks, but when he stretched out on top of her, she welcomed him, twining her arms around his neck. He kissed her again and let his weight bear down on her, pressing right up against the front of those pretty pink panties.

Touching her with only one gossamer barrier between them was a heady experience, the most tantalizing of his life, and it quickly proved too much for him. Bringing his penis into play this early had been a mistake. It wanted to tear through her panties and push inside her with no further preliminaries.

Groaning, he rolled away from her.

She murmured a protest. “I was enjoying that.”

He grimaced. “So was I.” Too much.

When he thought he had control over himself again, he hazarded another glance at her. She was panting lightly, her eyes closed and her nipples pebbled, her breasts erotically framed by black lace.

Maybe he could do something else she enjoyed.

He slid his palm along her inner thigh until he met the edge of her panties. Through the thin fabric, he could feel how hot she was. Moisture dampened his fingertips. Amazed by physiology, high on endorphins, he cupped her gently, learning the graceful swell of her pubic bone and the slight dip of her femininity. “Tell me how to touch you.”

Her eyes flew open.

“What do you like?”

“I—I don’t know.”

He was curious about her past sexual experiences, but he didn’t want to ruin the moment by asking her too many questions. Sweat broke out on his forehead, because he wanted to make it good for her and wasn’t sure how. Taking the plunge, he slipped his hand down the front of her panties, into wet curls and sleek heat.

Oh,
fuck
. He was going to come just from touching her. How did you tell a girl you couldn’t wait a second longer? “I can’t—”

“It’s okay.”

“I want to—”

“Yes.”

Heart racing, pumping more blood to his already raging hard-on, he pulled away from her, fumbling with the condom as she took off her panties. As he positioned himself over her, it occurred to him that he must be dreaming. He’d never had anything but tough luck, and here he was, getting lucky with the most beautiful girl in Tenaja Falls.

Angel was splayed beneath him, eyes like black jewels, breasts provocatively displayed, her body revealed to him. Offered to him. Open to him.

He wanted to savor the moment, but he couldn’t focus on anything but getting inside her. Lack of experience had him faltering a few times before he was there, sliding home inch by inch, going all the way. She felt … indescribable, like nothing he’d ever imagined.

“Oh, God,” he moaned, knowing he was lost.

He tried to make it last forever, he really did. But natural instinct took over and he could only thrust. She wrapped her legs around his hips and her arms around his neck, digging her fingernails into his shoulders and making sexy panting sounds in his ear. Every thing fell away but this moment, her body beneath his, his body inside hers. In a burst of heat and light and energy, he exploded.

Dylan wasn’t sure how long he lay there, sweating all over her, smothering her, before he returned to reality.

He lifted his head to look at her. She met his gaze levelly.

It struck him that the pleasure had been completely one-sided. She didn’t come. She didn’t even come close.

Head spinning, he heaved himself off her and stumbled into her bathroom to get rid of the condom. He avoided glancing in the mirror, knowing he was damp-haired and red-faced, while she lay on the bed, unruffled and unaffected.

What a loser he was! A two-pump chump.

Cursing silently, he buttoned his pants and went back out to her bedroom. She’d wrapped the edge of a blanket around herself and was studying him with timid eyes, appearing far from unaffected by their encounter.

“I’m sorry,” he said, feeling sick to his stomach. Sitting down on the bed beside her, he shoved his hand through his disheveled hair. “That was terrible. Worse than Chad.” To his chagrin, his eyes watered and his throat closed up.

“No,” she insisted, snuggling up behind him and resting her head on his bare shoulder. “It wasn’t terrible. I liked it.”

“All fifteen seconds?”

She smiled against his back. “Yes.”

Turning, he put his arms around her and held her for a while, desperate for a chance to make it up to her. Inexplicably, he did the opposite of redeeming himself, and like the miserable excuse for a man he was, he curled up beside her and fell asleep.

When Shay arrived at Dark Canyon, there was a package waiting for her on the front step.

The post office usually delivered during regular working hours, but she hadn’t been around much lately.

With a frown, she noticed there was no name or address on the top. Maybe Mike had left something for her.

She hadn’t noticed it during last night’s rendezvous.

Blushing, she tossed the box on the exam table inside and vowed to put Luke out of her mind. Although Mike had dropped in the day before, it wasn’t his job to take care of the minor duties running a wildlife preserve entailed, and she had a lot of work to do. After a wildfire, there were dozens of routine tasks to be performed, data to compile, tests to run.