Fade to Midnight

by Shannon McKenna

  "Let them come." He sounded unconcerned at the prospect. "I'd welcome the opportunity to tell them exactly what I think of them."

  "Ah." She cleared her throat. "You're very brave, but I don't think you quite realize--"

  "I realize perfectly. But I'm not the one who needs to do some realizing. Your family needs to take a fucking turn at that."

  The situation was slipping in a direction that scared her to death. "You'll get in trouble," she said, her voice shaking. "You could get hurt."

  He shrugged, his shoulders shifting in the dark. "I've been in trouble before. I've been hurt before. It passes."

  "You don't understand." She pounded his chest. "That would hurt me! If they hurt you, it would hurt me, and I've been hurt enough!"

  He went still for a moment. His arms tightened around her. "I'm sorry. I didn't know that you, uh...that you'd care that much."

  "So get it through your head," she scolded him, and buried her face against his chest. His white shirt being by now a lost cause.

  He stroked her hair, his fingers tracing lovely patterns over her back. "Call the hospital," he said. "You'll feel better."

  "My dad took my cell phone when he caught me texting you."

  Kev let out an eloquent grunt and he dug in his coat pocket. "So that's why you texted me from a different phone."

  "Yes. Des's phone. Oh, yes. I have to tell you about that, after." She punched in 4-1-1 for directory assistance, and got put through to the ICU unit. A tense fifteen minutes went by, intermittently waiting on hold and trying to explain to a long series of doctors and nurses that whoever was attending Charles Parrish should be on the alert for the possibility of poison. The interchanges left her with the maddening sense of not having been taken seriously. Just a hysterical, know-nothing family member who thought the medical staff on duty wasn't capable of doing their jobs. But she'd tried.

  She gave Kev his phone back, and hid her face against his shirt. It felt so hot and strange and shaky. Shimmering.

  "Well," she said. "That was probably useless."

  "You try so hard to do the right thing. And they treat you so badly," he said.

  "He's still my dad," she said. "Such as he is. He and Ronnie are all I've got, since Mom died. And I can really see how all this looks, from his point of view. He genuinely believes that he's doing the right thing."

  He didn't reply, but she felt his thought waves lapping over her mind. "What?" she demanded, testily. "Just say it, already."

  "You'll be embarrassed if I do."

  "Really? And why is that?"

  "Because you don't take compliments well," he said. "I was thinking how brave and selfless and understanding you are."

  "Oh, shut up. Don't make fun of me."

  "I'm not," he said. "I was just thinking what a turn-on that is."

  Her fingers twisted into of the now-grubby fabric of his shirt. Her hands shook from gripping so hard. She wanted so badly to hang on to this sweet, yummy guy who said such lovely things about her. Just drag him closer, never let him go. He liked every part of her. Her eyes, her face, her body. Even her character.

  Of course, he was still under the delusion that she was his angel. That was a chilling little reality check. But she still wasn't letting go.

  "I'm sorry, if that's inappropriate right now," he offered, his voice uncertain. "I know you've had a stressful time. I don't mean to--"

  "Shut up," she said. "I can't stand it any more."

  He froze. "Huh?"

  She jerked him closer. "I mean, shut up and kiss me."

  She didn't even give him a chance to obey her order. She just wrapped her arms around his neck in her very best strangling kudzu vine imitation, and kissed the guy herself.

  Her hasty, awkward assault was met with hungry welcome. She abandoned herself to it, hardly believing it could be real, but she could feel his heat, his hunger. He wasn't faking it. He couldn't. Not to her.

  This intense, beautiful man was holding her like she was the most precious thing he'd ever touched. Worshipping her with his mouth, tasting her tears. Hungry to just lay her down on the car seat and...

  Oh. Boy. Images flashed through her head, erotic, explicit. What he wanted to do to her. The way he wanted to make her feel. Writhing, begging. Offering herself to him, in total, melting, wide-open surrender.

  She was tuned to the wavelength of his desire. It was so loud and clear it practically deafened her, and she wasn't even drawing. Now that she'd felt it from him, she could never be deaf or blind to it again.

  It shimmered around her, a sea of warmth, marbled with a lusty, sharp male urgency that made her squirm with eagerness on his lap.

  Kev threw his head back, dragging in air. "I can't do this!"

  She was dismayed. "Why not?"

  "We're in public, parked in an alley! I'm supposed to be protecting you, not ripping off your clothes and fucking you in my car!"

  "But...what if I begged you to?" she asked, timidly. "Would that make it OK? I mean, this place, it's hardly public. It's pitch-dark."

  "Your dad's bodyguards--"

  "Won't find us," she wheedled. "They'd have made a move by now if they'd followed us, and you said yourself that they didn't."

  "No," he said flatly. "My attention would be compromised. And that's a big fucking understatement. And besides. I don't have condoms here. "He flung the words at her, almost triumphantly.

  Edie sagged forward until her forehead touched his. "God, Kev. Do you never learn?" she complained.

  "I have condoms at home!" he flared. "I had, and still have, every intention of fucking you all night long, in the safety and privacy of my own apartment. With its multiple locks, state of the art alarm system, and my own personal arsenal at hand. No way am I letting my guard down like that in a car, in an alley. Fucking forget it. So stop."

  She reached for him again. "Please," she coaxed. "Please, Kev."

  She scratched her unnaturally clean, French manicured nails down his chest, making his breath stutter audibly.

  "You are crazy," he said hoarsely.

  She stopped short, mouth open, and started vibrating in helpless, silent sobs. Laughter, tears, she couldn't tell. "Crazy Edie," she forced out. "Oh, yeah. That's me."

  Kev grabbed her, and squeezed. "Aw, shit. Edie. I didn't mean--"

  "It's OK. I know you didn't." She cradled his face in her hands, covering it with feverish kisses. Trying to memorize his face, like a blind woman. Committing the texture of his skin to memory, every detail. The shiny, mottled skin of his scarred side, contrasting with the supple velvety heat of his unmarred skin on the left. He'd shaved. He was smoother than he had been this morning. He'd put on some delicious smelling cream, to please her. It made her heart thud with delight.

  But something kept whispering the truth. No way were they going to let her keep this. This was stolen time. Precious counted seconds, and she was goddamn well going to make the most of them.

  She kissed him, feeling the tickle of his eyelashes against her cheek, her lips, feeling the sweep of his eyebrows. "I don't know how long I'll have, before they get me," she said. "But they will get me, Kev. I have to make this count. Do it. Please. Do it right now. Right here."

  He grabbed her shoulders and gave them a sharp little shake. "I am not going to let them do that to you."

  Tenderness swelled painfully in her chest, for how valiant and well meaning he was. How innocent. He was just one guy, no matter how exceptional. He didn't have a private army, a vast network of social and political connections, a bottomless budget.

  "I love you for saying that," she said softly. "No matter how it all shakes down."

  He stiffened, outraged. "You don't believe me."

  She stroked his face. He was so sweet, it made her heart hurt. "That's not it. I just have a lot of experience with these people."

  "They don't have any experience with me. They're in for a shock."

  Anger throbbed off him, in hot waves. Different than the anger she'd sensed
before. Outraged fury, bright and hot and purifying. Not toxic or festering. It was the first time that furious anger didn't close her down. On the contrary. His fierce conviction heated her blood. She could almost let herself believe that he actually could protect her, defend her. That he could fearlessly face off with Charles Parrish, and win. Just because he was such a fine and righteous dude.

  But that would be foolish, irresponsible. He had no idea what he was dealing with, and she had to protect him as best she could.

  Just a little more of this perfection first. One more time. Call her selfish. She slid her leg over his so that she straddled his thighs, pressing that damp, hot ache of longing against its perfect, throbbing opposite. She set her teeth to the damp skin at his throat, and licked away the savory tang of his sweat against her tongue.

  He seized her hips, grinding her harder against his pulsing erection. "Believe it, Edie. I will protect you."

  She threw her head back, flaunting her cleavage, inviting him to bury his face in it. "Show me how you'll look after me, Kev," she challenged. "Make me feel it. I need some serious convincing."

  The grinding rasp that came from behind his clenched teeth sounded barely human. "I'll give you all you want when we get home."

  "Now." She wrenched his belt buckle loose and struggled to get her hands into his trousers, but they were cuddled into too tight of a knot. So she slid down his thigh, and petted the hard, hot length of him, trapped in his pants. Gripping it.

  "Goddamnit, Edie," he groaned.

  She had him now. She could feel it. They'd topped the crest, and were tumbling down the other side. She hauled up masses of pink chiffon, and scrambled off his lap for just long enough to balance on one toe, clutching the back of his seat with one hand while she snagged the elastic of her panties and whipped them down off one leg. Almost tumbling onto her ass on the center console when the thing snagged on her stupid spiky heel. She wobbled, corrected. Left the panties rolled up around her thigh like a garter, forgotten. Climbed astride him again.

  "Feel me," she pleaded, tossing up what felt like endless, billowing yards of fabric to get to his hand and grab it. "Feel this." She pulled his hand up between her legs. "Feel how wet I am."

  He groaned, rubbing his face against her cleavage, petting her slick pussy tenderly, as if it were a fragile, delicate thing to be protected. She waited, breathless, and tried again. "I need you." Her voice broke.

  He cursed, in that weird language that she couldn't quite place, but he couldn't resist her. He teased her folds apart, and delved, boldly. Stretching her, opening her. Spreading her lube all around.

  Yes. He was going to do it. Salvation was at hand.

  The second his mind was made up, he took charge. Everything went faster. He shifted her as if she were a doll, and wrenched his pants open. Her skirts billowed around them, voluminous puffs, like sea foam. Like a bridal gown, pale and fragile in the dark.

  The stray thought startled her, but she gave into it. Who cared if this was makeshift, unplanned sex in the front seat of a car. It was also a sacred wedding night between true lovers.

  The heart decided, not the circumstances.

  Tears ran down her face again, at the exquisite blessing of it. The tender way he handled her, the way her body yielded to him. Eager, trusting. He deftly guided the head of his cock against her, caressing her with it until they found the perfect angle. And then, the shuddering delight as she tried to relax, to let his big, stiff cock slide into her.

  It hurt, but it was also...oh. So. Deliciously...good.

  No latex. She didn't care. She didn't feel irresponsible. The normal rules were irrelevant. Every gesture, every caress, achingly poignant and tender. Charged with significance. Magnificance.

  She arched as he held her hips, thrusting deeper. Gathering her closer. He placed her hands on the back of the car seat, and started to move, surging up inside. She sobbed with each marvelous stroke. It was a constant discovery, how much pleasure her body could bear, how much emotional voltage she could carry. Every slick, driving thrust jolted her deeper into a happiness so intense, it was frightening. She was thrilling with the wonder of the violin's high note, but the intensity never subsided. It only swelled, deepened. The orchestra joined in. Jungle drums, organs, crashing percussion, sea waves breaking.

  The climax ripped through her, lighting up every dark corner with the blazing light of total awareness.

  As she drifted back, it was with an odd sense of relief. It was all good. There was nothing bad hiding in there. No terrible darkness that did not yield to the light. No matter what her family said, no matter their fears. She wasn't broken, or crazy.

  She no longer had to bear that burden of stomach-clenching doubt. And without it, she could finally relax. The relief was exquisite.

  She draped over him, panting. Almost drowsing, until it became evident that he was still hard, throbbing inside her with unabated urgency. His heartbeat pulsed deep inside, against her womb. He was rigid with the effort of staying still. He stroked her back, reverently.

  She lifted her head. "You didn't come."

  "No," he said.

  "Why not?" she asked. "Are you trying to prove something to me? Something about your macho manly self control?"

  "You give me too much credit." He pressed a finger against her mouth. "I just figured we should save kids for when we're more settled. Let's sort things out before we make babies."

  She stared at the shadowy gleam of his eyes. Ulp. "Ah, maybe you're right," she whispered.

  "Which is not to say that I'm not into it," he said.

  "Into what?"

  He lifted her so that he withdrew halfway, and settled her down again, a slow, liquid stroke. He swiveled, stirring her around until she writhed and whimpered. "Into babies. With you. I'm all for it."

  "I, ah...we just met today," she whispered.

  He kissed her throat. She felt the gentle nip of his teeth, the rough swipe of his tongue. "That doesn't count," he said. "Not for us."

  That could not be argued, but she still felt shy. "Most guys don't talk about babies on a first date," she babbled. "It's one of the big nonos for girls. Quickest way to make a guy run screaming."

  "I'm not running. You couldn't chase me off if you tried."

  She clutched him tighter, biting her lip. "No."

  "Are you running?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

  "No," she replied.

  "Well, then." He lifted her up, with no effort, and slid deep inside her once again, with a groan of pleasure.

  She cleared her throat, tried to organize her thoughts. "Well, I think you deserve to...that is to say, I think you should finish."

  "Ah." His voice was velvety. "So you want my baby now, then?"

  She giggled. "What I want is to watch you explode. There are ways to make that happen that don't make babies."

  He was silent for a long moment. "You keep playing me."

  She kissed his cheekbone, trailed kisses down his jaw, his throat. "I'm not playing you," she said, and she forced her rubbery limbs to function. She clambered off, dragging herself off that thick, throbbing prong. Then she sank to her knees in front of the seat, between his legs, in a billowing poof of pale chiffon, and grabbed his cock.

  "Now I'm playing you," she said, and took him in her mouth.

  Oh, boy. So big, so hard. He smelled so sexy. Hot and earthy, sticky with her juices. She didn't have flawless technique to boast of when it came to oral sex, but she'd never been so inspired. She was so excited, she came again herself when he exploded in her mouth.

  The orgasm originated in her chest, bursting through her arms. Her fingers tingled, glowed. Flowers burst into bloom in her head, pulses of violet light. She wiped her mouth, pushed away the hair stuck to her face. Tongue-tied and sticky and shy.

  Kev dragged her up onto his lap and hugged her. Tears ran down her face, and she was completely unembarrassed. It was good, it was fine. It was wonderful. Then she kissed his face, and found it wet.r />
  Her heart opened so wide, she thought it would break, become something she never knew a heart could be. Vast and pure and fearless.

  Some endless time later, she forced herself to pull away from the sweet, lazy nuzzling. "I should go," she said. "To the hospital."

  He stiffened. "Why?"

  She braced herself. "We should start from a position of strength. We show up at the hospital, like any concerned daughter and her boyfriend. That's not the behavior of a crazy girl and her kidnapper."

  "We're not dealing with reasonable people here," he said. "Fuck them all. Let's just leave. Disappear."

  She considered that seductive idea. Loving it, even though it was unthinkable, with her little sister in the equation. "To where?"

  "I don't care. Anywhere. It doesn't matter. Let's tan reindeer hides in Lapland. Run an emu farm in South Australia. Herd goats in Crete. Spear fish in the tidepools of a South Sea island. I'll find a way to support us. I've got lots of skills. I'm quick with languages."

  She pondered that. "It sounds great. But even if I didn't have Ronnie, it would mean giving up all hope of finding out about the first part of your life. And you'd have to give up the second part, too, that you worked so hard to build. You'd have to start out from zero. Again."

  "I'd be with you. It would be worth it to me. Just say the word."

  She pressed her hand to her shaking mouth. "Oh, wow. Kev. You are so sweet. I don't know what to do with you."

  "What you're doing so far really works for me," he assured her.

  She stifled her giggles, and refused to let herself fall into the vortex of another kiss. "Let's go to the hospital, and brazen it out."

  He radiated disapproval as he drove, but when they parked in the hospital garage, he draped his coat around her shoulders, and took her hand. Everything felt different with his energy sustaining her.