Edge of Sanity: An Edge Novel

by Shannon K. Butcher

  She was going to kiss him. She didn’t know if he wanted it or not, but the compulsion to feel his lips against hers was too much for her to fight. Once she knew what it was like, her curiosity would be satisfied, and she’d be able to concentrate again.

  Leigh went up on tiptoe and pressed a small, chaste kiss against the corner of his mouth. His whole body went still for a moment. He stared down at her and his jaw bulged as if he was holding himself back.

  “Do that again.” His tone was hard, making his words either a demand or a dare.

  Leigh didn’t care which. She pressed her hands against his bare chest to steady herself and kissed him again. Only this time, there was nothing chaste about it. She flicked her tongue across his lower lip, lingering as she tasted him.

  Clay shuddered. His hands moved over her—one going up to cup the back of her head and the other sliding down to press against the small of her back.

  Contained strength was evident in his hold. His arms didn’t move, but his fingers curled against her, drawing her fractionally closer. Restraint vibrated through him, like electricity through high-tension wires. He surrounded her with hard heat. Only his mouth was soft.

  He made no move to kiss her back. She would hav Shectricitye thought it was because he wasn’t interested, but the thick bulge of his erection pressing against her abdomen proved otherwise.

  “Why won’t you kiss me?” she asked.

  “Because if I do, I’m afraid I’ll scare you away.”

  She didn’t know what he meant by that—she didn’t scare easily—but she desperately wanted to find out. He’d offered her a wickedly delightful challenge, and she was more than up for it.

  Leigh smiled as she rose on tiptoe again. “Do you want me to stop?”

  His voice was a rough whisper. “God no.”

  She needed no further encouragement.

  Her lips met his, and she toyed with him, nibbling at the edges of his mouth. She tasted him again, sliding the tip of her tongue along the seam where his lips were pressed closed.

  She needed him to open for her so she could get what she wanted. She wasn’t entirely sure what that was, but she could feel the prize dangling there, just out of reach.

  Leigh sucked on his bottom lip, pressing her teeth against the soft skin just hard enough for him to feel them.

  He changed in an instant, as if a switch had been flipped. His restraint evaporated and his hold tightened, jerking her against him from chest to thigh. Heat poured off him. His mouth opened, and his tongue plunged past her lips as if staking a claim.

  A moan of surrender rose from deep in his chest, vibrating her nipples so that they tightened almost painfully. Desire spun through her in a dizzying rush. She clung to his hard shoulders and tried to find enough oxygen to stay upright.

  Clay’s mouth moved over hers as if he’d been starved all his life and her kiss was the only thing that could feed him. His hands slid through her hair as he held her head, refusing to let her withdraw.

  He kissed the way he fought—taking complete control over the situation and bending it to his will, with hard, fast force. Not that she was complaining. Toying with him had been fun, but this . . . this was overwhelming pleasure, potent desire. It consumed her and left her panting for more. She gave in to the rush, letting it wash over her as he worked his magic, making her go soft inside even as he drew her tighter.

  His hands slid between them, working at her buttons. She was all for it. The idea of rubbing her bare breasts against his hot chest compelled her to help him speed up the process of getting naked.

  Her hands were shaking too hard to be of much use, and after what seemed like forever, he finally gave up and jerked her shirt open, popping the last few buttons free. One clicked against the table. She didn’t care where it had fallen, not when Clay was looking down at her now with lust darkening his skin.

  She still had her bra on. It wasn’t anything fancy, and yet the way he was looking at her now made it feel like the sexiest lingerie ever stitched together.

  He slid one finger along herngeaking skin, just above the lacy edge of the cups. His breath came out heavy and hot, expanding his chest until the sight blocked out all else.

  Leigh smoothed her hands over his pecs, feeling the racing of his heart beneath. Clay’s fingers slid down her torso and came to rest on the button of her slacks. He tilted her head up, a silent question in his amber eyes. She nodded and was rewarded with a slight tug as the button worked free. Her zipper hissed down, barely audible over their rapid breathing.

  Clay turned her around until her back was pressed against his chest. He moved her hair aside and kissed the skin just below her ear. She shivered in response, her whole body lighting up with the need for more of his mouth.

  He held her in place with one arm looped around her, just below her breasts. She wanted to scream at him to finish stripping her bare, but the words were stolen as his teeth scraped along her throat.

  Raw, sizzling sensation soared through her, making her knees sag. Clay held her up and forced her higher with swirling licks of his tongue and sharp little bites.

  The collar of her shirt scraped across the nape of her neck, slipping down to bare her shoulders. He kissed every inch of her skin as it was exposed, until she was shaking from the constant barrage of pleasure.

  His hand grazed her belly, moving lower until the very tips of his fingers were poised over her mound, above her panties. Another inch lower and he’d be able to feel what he’d done to her—how wet he made her.

  Her hips bucked forward. She wasn’t sure if she’d done it on purpose or if her instincts were driving her now. Whatever the case, his middle finger fluttered across her swollen clitoris, setting her whole world on fire.

  She let out a whimpering howl of need, ashamed by the noise even as she reveled in his reaction to it. His erection jerked against the small of her back, hard and insistent.

  Leigh wanted him. This was no longer a game of challenge. Nor was it something to prove to him that she wasn’t going to be scared away. His kisses and touches had pushed her past all of that, into a realm where need and desire ruled all else.

  His finger moved in a slow circle over her clit. The fabric of her panties irritated her. She needed his skin on her skin so badly she could think of nothing else. She grabbed his hand and shoved it inside her panties, showing him what she wanted.

  His growl of approval was overridden by her own sharp gasp of pleasure. He parted her labia, sliding easily along the slick folds.

  His touch was better than she could have imagined. His fingers were burning hot and slightly rough, creating a delicious friction that became the center of her universe. He cupped her breast, and she couldn’t find enough coherent speech to tell him to take her bra off. And she certainly couldn’t do it herself—not when she was trembling like this, strung tight and clinging to his hard thighs in an effort to stay upright.

  Clay’s fingers stroked her with expert skill, dipping and sliding until she was hovering on the verge of orgasm. She tried to hold it off. She didn’t want him to know the kind of power he haof strokd over her body. It was an unfair advantage—one he would doubtlessly use against her if he thought it was for her own good. If he came with her, then the playing field would be even. Her advantage would equal his.

  She tried to turn around so she could get his jeans off. All she needed was a moment to gather herself and ease back down off the cliff. But Clay didn’t let her have it. He held her in place, his arms tight vices around her hips and ribs.

  “I want this,” he told her, his breath sliding along her throat where his lips and teeth kept working their stinging little miracles.

  His fingers sped their wicked pace, and he lightly pinched her nipple through the lacy layers of her bra. Searing sensation shot through her, connecting his teeth and fingers with pulsing arcs of electricity. Leigh gasped and arched, no longer able to stop herself from falling. She tumbled headlong into the first wave of her climax, crashing
hard.

  Her body convulsed in his grip, completely out of control. She heard the mewling sounds of pleasure she made but could not stop them from pouring from her mouth. Clay didn’t pull back—instead he pushed her higher, forcing her to feel every throbbing second of her release, drawing it out as long as possible.

  When the last wave lapped over her skin, all her strength fled. She let herself go, trusting Clay to hold her up.

  He swept her into his arms and laid her back on the bed. The look on his face was one of pure male conquest. At any other time, it would have irritated her, but right now, with her body still humming from what he’d done, she felt he deserved to be wearing that look. It suited him, and with any luck at all, she’d get to see him look at her like that again very soon.

  Clay’s gaze fixed on her mouth, then slipped down to her breasts. That expression of hunger made her want to jerk the bra from her body so she could watch him as she bared herself completely.

  He drew circles over her skin, slipping just below the lacy edge.

  Leigh pulled her shirt off and reached behind her to unhook her bra. Before she’d finished the job, she saw him go utterly still. His expression of lust disappeared, leaving behind a layer of disgust.

  She went cold instantly, wondering what it was he’d seen in her that had put him off so completely. She followed his gaze, wondering if she’d developed some giant hairy mole or something. Instead, she saw the dark bruises circling her arms—the ones he’d left on her the night they’d met.

  Clay stumbled back from the bed as if it had spouted spiders. “I did that to you, didn’t I?”

  “I’m fine.” She tried to make her voice reassuring, but she was still thrumming with the languid effects of her orgasm, with little blood left in her brain to make things come out right.

  He closed his eyes, anguish tightening his features. Gone was the flush of lust that she loved to see, and in its place was the cold chill of self-loathing.

  Clay grabbed his sweatshirt and shoes from where they’d been tossed earlier and made a beeline for the door. “I’m sorry,” he ssorsizeaid, his back to her as he fumbled with the locks and staggered out into the cold.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Clay hadn’t been this foolish since he was a teenager with more dick than brains. How the hell could he have let things with her go that far? If not for those unexpected bruises, he would have slept with her—after having hurt her just a couple of days ago. That concept was so fucked-up, he couldn’t even begin to wrap his head around it.

  The cold air outside the room slapped him in the face, helping him shed some of the heat she’d generated in him. He had no idea where he was going, but once he had his feet and chest covered, he started walking, putting some distance between him and Leigh.

  She’d been so responsive, so hot in his arms, that he was sure she’d set him on fire. All he’d been able to think about was getting his cock in her and making her give him that sweet cry of surrender as she came again.

  As long as he lived, he’d never forget that sound. He’d never forget the liquid heat of her spilling over his fingers, or the way she arched into him, silently begging for more. Even now, as disgusted as he was with himself, thoughts of her still had the power to leave him iron hard and throbbing.

  Her scent clung to him, rising to meet his nose with every breath. A hint of arousal was mixed in with the lighter scent of her skin, mingling together in a way he was sure was designed to drive him mad. The short trip to the edge of sanity was at least one he could enjoy, unlike the darker, more dangerous path he was on now.

  Clay tucked his head down, put the hood of his sweatshirt up, and headed down the street, away from the cluster of restaurants nearby. He didn’t dare go inside where it was warm or speak to anyone, but he couldn’t go back to that room, either. Not yet. Not until his head was clear and screwed on straight. And sure as hell not before she was dressed again, covered from head to toe.

  Just the memory of her breasts barely restrained by that bra was enough to leave him breathless. It was good that he’d stopped things before they’d gone any further, but he violently regretted not having taken the opportunity to see her naked breasts. Then again, if she had been bare, he wasn’t sure he would have found the strength to walk away. He’d be balls-deep inside her right now, blissing out, all for the low, low cost of the dwindling scrap of self-respect he still had.

  Maybe it would have been worth it.

  A cold front had moved through, whipping up the wind and sinking into his shirt to suck away the heat Leigh had generated. He sped his pace, but it did nothing to stave off the shivers racking him.

  He heard a car engine right behind him, keeping pace with his speedy walk. He didn’t need to glance over his shoulder to know it was Leigh. She was too caring to leave him walking out in the cold for long.

  “Get in,” she called through the open window.

  No way. Not yet. He wasn’t ready to be that close to her, trapped in the car, where her scent could tease him right back into stupidity. “I need to clear my head.”

  “It’s too cold.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re shivering. Just get in.”

  He moved toward the car and she pulled to a stop. Rather than getting in, he bent down to the window. Beneath her jacket, he could see broken threads sprouting from her blouse where a button had once been.

  Another wave of guilt hit him. He’d treated her too roughly, tearing her clothes like some kind of barbarian.

  “I need some time alone, Leigh. I’ll come back to the room in a little while. I promise.”

  Her lips flattened with frustrated indecision. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “You didn’t. And I really can’t talk about this right now. Just let it go, okay? Please?”

  She nodded, and he hated the look of desolation that haunted her dark eyes. “At least take your jacket.”

  It was lying on the front seat. He reached in and grabbed it, more to make her feel better than anything. The cold kept his thoughts focused on something other than the heat that had built between them.

  “Don’t be too long,” she said.

  “I won’t,” he promised.

  “If you’re not back in an hour, I’m coming to look for you.”

  She drove off. Clay checked his watch. He really didn’t want her to worry about him, and she was too soft not to. Maybe it was her profession that made her so caring—though the doctors he’d known had been so cold and cynical they wouldn’t know what caring looked like if they sat on it. Whatever the case, she wasn’t like them. She was risking her life for him, and while maybe her motivations were focused around her brother, Clay still had to own up to the fact that he was also benefiting from her selflessness.

  His knee-jerk reaction was to push her away—to drive her off so far she’d never come back. But his fear was that she’d continue to pursue those responsible for his blackouts on her own. She had the list of coordinates. She had the car. There was nothing stopping her from taking off and doing this without him. He’d heard what those thugs in the park had said about a price on his head and this doctor asshole sending people to find him in the places he’d been before. The thought of her walking into a trap set by one of them scared the shit out of him.

  Clay turned on his heel and headed right back for the motel. By the time he got there, he’d run through at least a dozen nightmares where Leigh was gone and tossing herself into danger. When he shoved his way through the door to find her sitting on the bed, he nearly sagged with relief.

  She looked up from where she was sewing a button on her shirt. Her hair was damp around the edges, her face scrubbed clean. She wore modest cotton pajamas with little b win">lue puppies on them. They were faded and baggy, but he could clearly see the outline of her nipples scrunched tight against the fabric.

  “I bought some sandwiches,” she said, throwing him a neutral lifeline. No heavy questions, no deep conversation. Just food.
/>   “Thanks,” he said, meaning more than just for the food.

  She nodded and went back to her button, ignoring him as if he’d vanished.

  Clay couldn’t tell whether she was mad or offering him the space he’d so desperately asked for. The need to figure out which drove him toward her.

  “Have you eaten?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “I waited for you.”

  He washed his hands, ridding them of her scent, and dug into the bag, willing to accept whatever she offered. If she wanted him to eat, he’d eat. If she wanted him to bark like a dog, he would have done that, too. Anything to break this awkwardness between them.

  Until now he hadn’t realized just how much he’d begun to enjoy her presence. She was easy to be around—at least when he wasn’t struggling to control himself. She wasn’t like so many women, throwing his mistakes in his face so that he had no choice but to choke on them.

  Clay set out the food. “Which do you want?”

  “I like them all. You pick.”

  He grabbed one of the turkey sandwiches and scooted it to the far side of the table. She watched him, accepting his silent invitation to come and sit with him.

  Leigh said nothing as she ate, and Clay did his best not to stare at her mouth. He finished off one sandwich and eyed a second.

  “Go ahead. You’re still hungry. I got what I wanted.”

  The way she said it, with lingering softness, made him wonder if she was talking about the food or something else.

  He’d made it through half of the last sandwich before he could no longer take the silence. “I’m sorry.”

  She wrapped her lips around her straw and drank. “About what? Kissing me and making me come or leaving like you hated it?”

  “Both, I guess. If I hadn’t kissed you, there would have been no need to leave. And I didn’t hate it. Not one second.” If he thought it was safe for her, he’d do it again in a heartbeat and count himself lucky.