Edge Of Midnight (The Mccloud Series Book 4)

by Shannon McKenna

  “Who designed it?” he barked out.

  The kite sagged, and the guy scuttled backwards to take out the slack. “I dunno. I’d, uh, have to look at the packaging. Some outfit in the Bay Area. Hey, dude. I gotta catch this breeze. Take it easy.”

  He darted away, casting nervous glances back over his shoulder.

  Sean stared after him, heart pounding. Liv was saying something, but he could only make out the soothing tone. He hugged her fiercely.

  “It’s OK, it’s OK,” she was murmuring, over and over.

  He shook his head. It wasn’t OK. He was losing it.

  “…was that all about?” she was asking him gently.

  He took a deep breath, and blurted out the truth. “That kite,” he said, exhausted. “That black and orange design. It’s one of Kev’s. He painted it on the ceiling of our bedroom when we were kids.”

  “Ah.” Her arms tightened. She pressed her warm, soft lips against his shoulder. “And did you think that—”

  “No,” he broke in savagely. “I didn’t think. Kev’s been dead fifteen years. And I still didn’t think. See? That’s my problem. I never think.”

  “No.” Her soft voice was stubborn. “You don’t have a problem. You think just fine. You just think…differently. But you’re brilliant.”

  The burst of laughter hurt his throat. “Brilliant. Freaking out over a kite while I’m supposed to be protecting you? Yeah, babe. Genius.”

  He stared into those black-fringed gray eyes. Felt sweaty-palmed hunger grip him, revving his engines. Adrenaline, shifting into lust.

  She sensed it, and stiffened. “Don’t you give me that look, you sex freak. You’re not going to get lucky with me on a public beach in broad daylight, so get it out of your head.”

  He saw a solution. Made for it, towing her behind him.

  “And just where do you think you’re taking me?” she asked.

  He jerked his chin at the building. “That hotel.”

  Liv stumbled into the hotel room, backing up as Sean advanced on her. She circled the bed, putting it between them. He pulled the drapes closed with a hard yank. They stared at each other in the dimness.

  That predatory look in his eyes made her feel like a quivering virgin who could barely guess what was in store for her. Heart hammering, belly tightening, breathless excitement. Her lips, her breasts, her crotch, all tingled and buzzed. Her laughing, teasing, playful Sean who wheedled and coaxed and patiently, skilfully seduced her into sex was nowhere to be seen.

  This man would not coax. He would take what he wanted.

  He made her stammering and stupid; his big, gorgeous body, the stark beauty of his battered face. Those eyes. He could ignite desperate yearning inside her with just one smoldering look.

  And it was all the more potent for the silence, the waiting.

  He ripped off the shirt he’d bought that morning. She just couldn’t get used to the lean, sinewy perfection of his body.

  “You’re wearing some of that sexy underwear under that dress?” The seductive rasp of his voice dragged over her nerves like silken fur.

  She tried to reply, but her breath was too uneven. A stuttering squeak came out. She opted for a nervous nod.

  “Strip,” he said softly. “Show me.”

  She leaned down, began unbuckling the delicate ankle straps.

  “No,” he said. “Leave on the shoes.”

  She straightened, running her hands over the curves of her body, modeling the stretchy sheath dress for him. It was sexy, comfy, a blend of rust, orange and brown. The nine hundred dollar price tag that had dangled from the sleeve was a blatant provocation. “Do you like my dress?” she asked shakily. “I hope so, because you paid enough for it.”

  “I like it fine,” he growled. “Get it off.”

  She took her time, tugging up the clinging skirt, in no hurry to reveal the lingerie she’d put on that morning. The thigh-high brown stockings, trimmed with brown and gilt lace that by some freak of masterful design actually stayed up. The chiffon panties, the sheer, clinging chemise. The transparent demi-bra, which hoisted her boobs up to unheard-of heights while still managing to look delicate.

  She pulled the dress over her head, careful not to dislodge the wig, and shook the unfamiliar wavy locks loose over her shoulders.

  “Take off the wig,” he commanded.

  Liv ran her fingers through the curls. “I kind of like it. Pretending to be someone else is freeing, you know? I’m just some anonymous blonde in a hotel room. Who knows which way I’ll jump?”

  “I’ve fucked lots of anonymous blondes in hotel rooms,” he said. “I’m bored with it. I want to fuck you. Lose the wig. Now.”

  She peeled the wig off, muttering under her breath as she plucked out pins, and shook the dark mass of hair down into a kinky, tangled cloud over her back. She lifted her chin. “Happy now?”

  “I’m getting there,” he rasped. “Soon. I’ll be happy very soon.”

  She backed up against the vanity. He loomed over her, stealing all the oxygen, blocking all the light. Her bottom pressed hard against the cool, varnished wood. He kicked her legs apart and stood between them. The fine chiffon snagged on the rough spots on his hands.

  He sank down onto his knees in front of her, took one of her feet, caressing it in his big, warm hands before draping it over his shoulder.

  “Pull the crotch away,” he directed her. “Show me your pussy.”

  She shivered with dizzy excitement as she tugged the damp scrap of chiffon out of the way. She was so aroused, puffy and pink and wet.

  He let out a long sigh of delight. “Wow. So shiny and pink. You glow. Put your finger inside your pussy. Show me how wet you are.”

  She bit her lip, shaking uncontrollably as she parted her labia and slid her finger inside herself. She wanted to do it seductively, like a strip tease, but she was too aroused to choreograph herself.

  She pulled her finger out. Sean seized her hand, dragged her finger into his mouth. The hot, tight suction sent delicious shivers of longing through her. He pulled her finger out of his mouth.

  “Hold your panties out of the way while I get my fix,” he ordered.

  She couldn’t speak, or breathe, or do anything but watch. Her arm trembled at the strain of supporting her body while her other hand held the gusset of her panties aside so that he could have at her with his skillful, ravenous tongue.

  He gripped her hips while his tongue lashed and thrust into her juicy folds, swirling around, stabbing deep, then trilling deliciously with his tongue. His position was submissive, but he was anything but. He took what was all his, laying claim to her pleasure. Every time demanding more from her, every time a deeper, wider surrender.

  She quivered in his ruthless grip, pushing herself eagerly against his face. The mirror was cold and hard against her back, the edge of the vanity cut into her bottom, she didn’t even know anymore which way gravity was supposed to be pulling her except closer to his hungry, sucking mouth, closer, whipping her up to a screaming intensity—

  Wave after wave of sweet hot pleasure throbbed through her, lapping over every nerve.

  Far too soon after that, he pulled her up onto her rubbery legs, turning her so they both faced the mirror. She caught herself with her hands on the edge of the dresser, panting through flushed, shaking red lips as he kicked off his jeans. Naked and hard and huge.

  “I like the mirror,” he said. “I want you to watch your own face while I fuck you. I want you to see how hot you look when you’re sighing and moaning and coming. Pull your panties down, Liv.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t do it like this, standing up,” she said breathlessly. “No way. I’m…I’m jelly. I’ll melt. I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can.” A merciless smile curved his mouth. “You will. You’ll do whatever I want. You like it that way. You like me this way.”

  He had her, the arrogant bastard, but there was nothing she could do when he touched her like that, nuzzling the hair away
from the nape of her neck while he yanked her panties halfway down her thighs.

  “You jerk. You’re b-being ridiculous,” she forced out.

  “Works for me.” He tugged her arms until they folded. “Prop yourself up on your elbows. I love your ass at that angle. I can see your pussy lips kissing my cock. I like to see your legs shake. I want to fuck you until you’re tottering on those heels.” He kissed her nape. The scorching contact of his skin against her body made her gasp.

  “I love to make you tremble,” he murmured. “I love to make you weak, to make you wet.” His voice was hypnotic, almost chanting. “I love to make you moan and whimper.” He fitted the blunt head of his penis against her, easing it with licking, back-and-forth strokes between her labia. “Make some noise when I shove my cock into you.”

  He followed words with action, driving himself deep, and jolting a gasping cry out of her. He waited, motionless, until she could feel his heartbeat throbbing deep inside her against her womb, until she started moving, twitching her bottom against his groin to get him going.

  He let out a soft sigh. She realized that he’d been holding his breath, afraid that he’d hurt her. Not that he would ever admit it while he was playing his macho caveman games. She wanted to smack that arrogant look off his gorgeous face, but she needed that injection of heat and energy he was giving to her even more. His deep, thrusting strokes, made her feel so female, so alive. Their eyes were locked in the mirror. He slid his hand between her leg and stroked her clit as he pumped, pulsed, stoking that yearning glow with slow, sure skill.

  On and on, until still more unbearable pleasure wrenched through her.

  When she looked up, he’d withdrawn from her shaking body, and was waiting, massaging his rigid member with a rough fist. He scooped his arm around her belly and spun her to face him, leaning his damp forehead against hers. His thick erection prodded her thigh, insistently.

  “Make me come,” he begged.

  She sank to her knees, pulling him into her mouth, clutching his hips. She sucked him hard, flicking her tongue along the sensitive flare, swirling, teasing. Just a few long, voluptuous strokes, as deep as she could take him, deeper than she’d ever dreamed she could.

  He exploded, pumping his salty male essence into her mouth.

  He sank to his knees and wrapped his arms around her, giving her something to cling to so she wouldn’t melt into a puddle.

  Some minutes later, she felt him shift and move, pawing at the bedclothes. He got up, and pulled her body down on top of his on the bed. Still in her shoes and stockings. Panties wound around her thighs.

  She must have slept for a while, and woke up disoriented. Her only point of reference in the world was Sean’s big, hard body, holding her tightly against him. It felt so safe, so warm. But nature was calling.

  He protested sleepily as she extricated herself, but she insisted, murmuring something soothing. She pried the sandals off and padded into the bathroom, took care of her business, and stood there staring at herself in the mirror for a long time. As if she’d never seen that woman before. Makeup smeared, hair big and wild and tangled. Tricked out in whorish lingerie. Private parts throbbing and hot and slippery, from hard, prolonged use. Badly in need of a wash.

  She set the water running into the big tub and peeled off the underwear. The panties were a lost cause. Unwearable.

  She went back to the bed and tugged Sean’s arm. “I ran us a bath,” she told him. “Come on.”

  He followed obediently enough, and climbed into the tub. She shut off the roaring tap, sudsed her hands up and started in on his chest, his muscular arms, his long, gorgeous hands. Loving the way the soapy water made his streaks and whorls of dark blond body hair so sleek, so deliciously touchable, strokable. Kissable.

  His penis rose up again, indefatigable. She gazed at it, impressed. He shrugged, gave her a what-do-you-want-from-me look, and closed his eyes. Well, fine. If he could ignore it, so could she.

  She stepped into the tub, sank down and wound her legs around his. “So did you get your ya-yas out? Do you feel better now?”

  He opened one eye. “Fucking you definitely helped,” he said blandly. “Do you mean, am I going apeshit? I don’t know, Liv. That kite was a dirty trick. I swear to God, it was the exact same image.”

  “I believe you. But maybe Kev saw the image somewhere else.”

  “Our father never let us off that place, except to go to town for supplies,” Sean said. “It’s not likely he would have seen it elsewhere.”

  “That kite cannot have anything to do with Kev,” she persisted gently. “You do know that, right?” She waited. “Don’t you?”

  “Yeah.” He covered his eyes. “I just wish I could make it stop.”

  “Make what stop?”

  “This feeling.” He shook his head. “It was a twin thing. When one of us was in trouble, the other one knew it. It was like an itch, inside my mind. Fire ants, crawling through my nerves.”

  “Brr,” she murmured. “Sounds uncomfortable.”

  “Yeah. Anyhow, you’d figure that when he died, the feeling would die with him, right?”

  She felt a shivery rush of goose bumps. “You mean…it didn’t?”

  He closed his eyes, shook his head. “I feel it all the time. Not so much now as in the beginning. It drove me stark raving nuts the first few years. I had to distract myself by pulling crazy shit like jumping out of airplanes, blowing up buildings, getting tortured by warlords. That was what it took.” He leaned back against the tub, staring up at the ceiling. “They say people still feel pain and itching in limbs that have been amputated. Phantom pain. I guess that’s what I’ve got.”

  “I’m sorry it hurts, but I envy you. I have good friends, but I’ve never been as close to anyone as what you’re describing.”

  A faint frown creased his brow. “Guess what? You are now, babe.”

  She blinked at him. “Hmm?”

  “How do you think I knew to come after you? I woke out of a sound sleep full of adrenaline right before T-Rex stopped your car.”

  Her mouth opened, closed, opened again. “Ah—I—”

  “Get used to it.” There was a possessive gleam in his eyes. “You can’t hide anything from me.”

  “I have nothing to hide,” she said. “Not from you. You always get uptight when I say things like this, but that makes me feel…safe.”

  Predictably, his smile faded. “Oh, God. Don’t jinx me, babe.”

  “Why are you so twitchy about that?” she asked crabbily. “I couldn’t imagine a guy more protective or vigilant or heroic than you.”

  “My father was, too,” he said. “But my mom wasn’t safe with him.”

  “Tell me.”

  “He didn’t hit her. Fuck, no. Dad would sooner have drowned himself than hit a woman. She was everything to him. But he fucked up. Kept her up there, pregnant, in the winter. Impassable roads. She paid the price.”

  Tears stung her eyes. She blinked them away. “That’s terribly sad, but I don’t see what that has to do with us,” she said cautiously.

  “Look at us, Liv. I’m doing the same thing to you that my dad did to her. I whisked you away, hid you, decided I’m the only one on earth who can keep you safe. Where have I heard this song before?”

  She shook her head. “No. It’s not like that.”

  He shrugged. “I’m scared shitless those bastards will get you if you go back to your folks. I don’t think the cops have the resources to protect you, either. They’re spread too thin to intercept anybody as focused as T-Rex. That’s my gut instinct, but I can’t trust it completely. Not after watching what happened to my dad.”

  “You put all the responsibility for what happened on your dad,” she said. “What about your mom? Did she have any opinions?”

  His shrug was eloquent. “You didn’t know my dad.”

  “No, but I know you. Besides, you’re my responsibility now, too.”

  His eyes widened. “Hell of a responsibility. Ask my
brothers.”

  “High maintenance,” she teased. “Like a Ferrari. Or a fighter jet.”

  “Speaking of high maintenance…” He leaned forward, and grasped her hips, pulling until she straddled him. He prodded the head of his penis against her, and let her sink down, enveloping him. “I’ve got a part that needs some focused attention.”

  She wiggled in his grasp, giggling. “But I’m exhausted.”

  “So rest.” A lazy grin made his dimple deepen. “You don’t have to do a thing. But if we’re going to lie around reminiscing and telling secrets, I’d just as soon do it with my cock shoved way up inside you.”

  She wiggled around him. “You can converse in this condition?”

  “Best condition there is. Hugged and kissed by the princess’s tight, cushy pussy. I can’t believe how good it feels.”

  “I can’t think a coherent thought,” she confessed, shivering.

  “So don’t think.” Sean jerked her down so her breasts dangled in his face. Her hair created a mysterious perfumed veil around them. He blew a lock of hair out of his mouth. “This is all your fault, you know.”

  She giggled at his hot, tickling mouth. “Oh, yeah? How is that?”

  “You keep saying sweet things to me.” He suckled her nipple into his mouth, swirling and pulling. “Makes my dick hard.”

  “Get real. You get equally hard when I scream and pound on you.”

  He pondered that. “Well, hell. That’s true,” he said, in a tone of mock discovery. “I’ll be damned. That’s remarkable. Angle yourself so your clit’s rubbing up against my…yeah. Just like that. Perfect. Ah.”

  She gave in, moving over him, stretched taut between two poles of melting pleasure, the greedy suckling of his mouth against her breasts, and his thick phallus massaging inside her, with that slow, skillful glide and plunge. Her hair fanned out in floating clouds of suds. There was no sounds but the lap and splash and slosh of the water, the wet sounds of his suckling mouth against her, her gasping breaths.

  The climax was long, and liquid, and endlessly lovely.

  When her eyes fluttered open, he pulled her up and out of the tub, scooped her up into his arms. She clutched his shoulders with a squeak. She just couldn’t get used to this being swept up routine.