Edge of Sanity: An Edge Novel

by Shannon K. Butcher

  “Nowhere good.”

  Leigh smiled, washing away the slimy remnants of his stupid thoughts. “Want to talk about it?”

  “Fuck no. I don’t want to talk at all.”

  Her smile went dark and hungry. “Good.”

  She reached over and opened her medical bag. Out came a ribbon of condoms. Whatever thoughts he’d had liquefied and leaked out of his brain. He hadn’t even been thinking about rubbers, though he sure as hell would have once he’d gotten to the point of no return. He didn’t have even one condom with him. Her pulling those out was more than a rescue; it was an offering.

  Clay may not have been completely sane, but he wasn’t crazy enough to turn down a chance to get inside her.

  She wiggled beneath him. A second later, those pink panties went flying across the room.

  He had to look. He’d never had a woman as beautiful as her naked, and he’d be damned if he let the opportunity pass him by.

  With one scorching kiss that was part warning, part apology, Clay moved down her body, forcing her thighs wide to make room for his shoulders.

  She was even prettier than he could have guessed. Damp red ringlets, the same shade as her eyebrows, shielded wet, pink flesh. Her clit was swollen and begging for his tongue.

  He didn’t even try to resist. There was no point in wasting effort when he was going to need every bit of his strength to please her. Instead, he gave in and feasted on her, letting her taste go to his head. Her hips bucked and sharp little cries of pleasure echoed in the room. As her breathing sped, so did he. Everything he did seemed to shove her higher, until she coiled tight and clutched his head. Even her breathing went silent, only to be let out as a high cry of completion.

  Clay kept her flying for as long as he could. When the last little tremor shook through her, he raised his head.

  Leigh lay sprawled in total bliss, panting. Her skin was flushed and glowing with a sheen of sweat. Her heart beat so hard, he could see it jiggle her breast. As much as he wanted to sit back and give her a minute to recover, it wasn’t going to happen. He was too wired—too close to the brink of completely losing control to risk it. His only choices were to get up and leave or roll on a condom and take what her careless sprawl offered so beautifully. And he wasn’t a strong enough man to leave her—not now when she was all laid out like an offering.

  Clay found enough functioning brain cells to fumble a condom onto his cock, and then he covered her, praying she wopra sizuldn’t shove him away now that she’d found release.

  Her arm was over her eyes, but as the tip of his erection pressed against her slick heat, she looked at him.

  He froze, poised at the brink of ecstasy.

  Her lips parted and her tongue darted out to wet them. He couldn’t stop himself from kissing her again, sipping the sweetness of her mouth.

  She moaned and her legs wrapped around him, pulling him closer. The tip of his cock was bathed in her heat. She hugged him tight, testing the limits of his control as he rocked slightly deeper.

  He wanted to shove himself all the way in and let go. Only the fragile softness of her body, all curvy and hot under him, reminded him to be gentle. Sweat cooled on his back. His arms shook as he held his weight above her. With each kiss he gained another inch, another tugging glide of fist-tight pressure.

  Her mouth left his, her breaths coming out as hot caresses against his jaw. She bit at his neck, straining beneath him to lift herself and find just the right angle to send her flying again. Instinctively, Clay knew what to do. He shifted his hips, finding that spot his fingers had found earlier—the one that made her scream and fall apart in his arms.

  She gripped his arms tight and flung her head back. Her hair made a wild mess against the dark covers. A choked sob rose from her lips as her pussy clenched around him.

  Clay couldn’t hold back the flood any longer. As she hit her peak, he gave in and let himself go. Stinging pleasure streaked along his skin and coalesced at the base of his spine. Jolts of sensation pulsed along his cock as she fluttered around him. His orgasm went on for hours, days. It robbed him of breath and rocked him all the way to his foundation.

  Finally, when the last trembling pressure eased, he was able to breathe again. Oxygen filled his starved lungs, perfumed with the scent of their heated skin.

  He collapsed atop her, struggling to get his elbows under him so he wouldn’t crush her. Her breasts cushioned his weight; her hair cradled his cheek. He felt like he’d been scraped clean—like all the bad shit was gone. It was a ridiculous thing to feel, but he couldn’t seem to make it go away.

  He was still inside her, but his cock was still too hard for the condom to have a prayer of leaking. He could stay another minute, just like this, cradled by her softness.

  Sappy. That’s what he was. One good fuck and he’d turned into some kind of soppy love song, some hormonally brain-dead kid.

  But damn, it felt good.

  Finally, he rolled away but didn’t go far. He tucked himself right up against her like the needy bastard he was.

  She turned onto her side, staring at him. Her orgasms shone in her eyes, making them sparkle with witchy secrets. He didn’t know how she did it, but she’d somehow taken away a weight he’d been carrying around. His burdens felt lighter—like he had a prayer of shouldering them to the end.

  Her slender fiHerarryinnger traced his face. He was so fucking glad he’d shaved and not left beard burn on her delicate skin.

  She petted his shoulder and chest, stroking him with slow, gentle sweeps. He closed his eyes and groaned, flopping onto his back so she could do as she pleased.

  Her hands moved lower, and he knew that if they went any farther south, she’d see just how much of a horndog he was. Despite his world-rocking orgasm, he still wanted more.

  Part of him wondered if he could ever get enough of her to sate him.

  She found his cock, still stiff, hard, and twitching in an effort to get closer to her.

  A sexy little growl of feminine approval filled the silence, and he risked peeking at her face to see what that sound looked like.

  Heaven—that’s what she looked like—or at least as close to it as he was ever going to get. Flushed skin, mussed hair, dark, hungry eyes, and pink, swollen lips. It all melded together in perfection so potent he almost had to glance away. He didn’t. He soaked it in and reveled in it, wondering how he was ever going to get through another day without getting to see her face.

  “I’m going to go get us some food,” she said, promise glittering in her eyes. “And when I get back, it’s my turn to be on top.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Mira was only halfway to work when she nearly dozed off and crashed her car. Rather than kill herself, she pulled over at the closest coffee shop and headed inside for enough caffeine to make it safely to work. There, she could sleep in one of the on-call rooms if she needed to, but at least she’d be around if anyone heard anything from Clay.

  Anxiety had taken its toll on her. Lack of sleep had done even more damage. She felt sluggish and fuzzy and continually on the brink of tears.

  Clay was out there, suffering, and she hadn’t been able to help nearly enough.

  She took her coffee from the counter and turned to leave, running right into a man behind her. Searing coffee sloshed over the side of the cup, splashing against her hand and his shirt and tie. Pain made her drop the cup, which sloshed even more of her drink on his shiny leather shoes.

  She gasped in horror at what her clumsiness had done. “I’msosorry!” Her words ran together in a near sob.

  He pulled his steaming shirt away from his skin and looked down at her. Way down. He was taller than any man she’d ever been this close to before, and her dulled wits were too shocked at his appearance to realize she needed to step back.

  There was no sign of pain or anger on his face. In fact, he looked completely calm. His pale gaze slid over her face and down her body, crinkling slightly with concern. “It’s okay. Are you burn
ed?”

  She realized then that she was cradling her hand. It did sting, but shehimomIt’d gotten only a few drops on her—he was wearing most of it.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Hold this, would you?” He thrust his own paper cup at her—which she took—and he turned around, exiting through the front door.

  Mira stood there, her mouth hanging open for a second before her sluggish brain caught up to reality.

  She’d hurt him. Maybe seriously. And he’d left before she could really apologize for what she’d done.

  She hurried out after him, offering the woman behind the counter a brief word of apology for the mess. The cold air hit her in the face, cooling the wet burn on her finger. He was at his car, the trunk open. Faint morning sunshine filtered through the heavy layer of clouds. Traffic streamed by on the road in front of the coffee shop. A constant line of cars moved through the drive-through.

  “I really am sorry,” she said as she neared him. “I’m such a klutz.”

  He glanced over his shoulder, giving her a smile that showed a bit of his dazzling white teeth. “It was my fault. I shouldn’t have been standing so close behind you—not before you had coffee.”

  Now that her brain was catching up with events, she realized how handsome he was. Sharply defined cheekbones, dark brown hair smoothed neatly in place, inky black eyebrows over pale gray eyes the same color as the clouds overhead.

  “Close?”

  He shrugged, and his smile turned self-deprecating. “I liked your perfume.”

  Before she could tell him she wasn’t wearing any, he pulled his tie off and started unbuttoning his shirt.

  “I ruined your clothes,” she said as she realized why he was undressing.

  “It’s okay. I’m on my way out of town on business and have a change in my suitcase. No harm done.” He stripped his wet shirt off, baring his chest.

  An angry red patch of skin glowed across his abdomen, spreading from just below his pecs down almost to his waistband.

  She reached for him, aghast at the damage she’d caused, and then thought better of touching a stranger. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s really not a big deal. You saved me from that tie.” He leaned forward to unzip his suitcase, and a whole series of lean muscles along his abdomen clenched.

  “Tie?” It was all she could think to say in the face of so much raw male beauty. She’d seen plenty of well-built men in various states of dress in the locker rooms at the Edge, but never once had one of their bodies rendered her stupid.

  He nodded, politely ignoring her painfully awkward question. “A gift from Mom. Now I can tell her that a beautiful young woman ruined it, and she won’t ever again ask me why I don’t wear it.”

  “Ruined?” Mira groaned, and then she finally processed the rest of what he’d said.

  Beautiful? He thought she was beautiful? A man built like a god with a face to match thought frumpy ol’ her was beautiful?

  “It’s no big deal. I can probably save the shirt.”

  “At least let me pay to have them cleaned.”

  He slipped a clean shirt on and started to button it up, saving her from staring. “No need. Really.”

  “I insist.”

  He stopped dressing and turned to face her. There was something in his eyes she’d never seen in a man before—at least not one who was looking at her. That look was filled with heat and blatant interest. It was the kind of look that people like Bella and Razor got from men.

  “Do you really want to make it up to me?” he asked.

  She nodded, unable to speak.

  “Then take me to dinner.”

  That shocked her tongue back into place. “Dinner? I can’t.”

  The heat in his gaze died down, replaced with disappointment. “Husband?”

  “No.”

  “A boyfriend, then?”

  “No.”

  “A girlfriend?”

  “No.”

  “Then why can’t you?” He asked the question like it was completely reasonable for her to go out with a complete stranger.

  “My life is a mess right now, and I—”

  He held up his hands, stopping her words from babbling out and embarrassing her further. “Say no more. I didn’t mean to push.”

  “You weren’t pushing.”

  His gaze slipped to her mouth for a split second before coming back to her eyes. “Then have dinner with me.”

  “I don’t even know your name.”

  “Adam.” He held out his hand to shake hers, waiting for her to touch him.

  Mira wasn’t sure she could take it. She already felt like she was on overload, struggling to keep up with even the simplest of conversations with this man. And yet she felt like she owed him something for what she’d done. Refusing to shake his hand would have been adding insult to injury. Literally.

  She slid her palm against his. He closed his long fingers around her hand, engulfing hers. His skin was slightly rough, and warm despite the frosty air. His finger inched along the inside of her wrist, his grip overflowing hers. For the briefest second, she thought that he’d stroked her on purpose, but the contact was too short for her to be sure she hadn’t imagined it.

  “Okay,” she whispered, feeling a crazy thrill rush through her.

  “Okay what?” he asked as he tucked in his fresh shirt. She watched his fingers dip below his waistband, jealous of their journey.

  The thought of touching him, of feeling his skin beneath her fingertips, pulled all the moisture from her mouth.

  She pried her tongue from the roof of her mouth before she could speak. “I’ll buy you dinner. I owe you that much.”

  He smiled and plucked a business card from his briefcase. “You don’t owe me anything, but I’m too eager to see you again not to take you up on your offer.”

  Eager to see her? No one was ever eager to see her, especially not hot, hunky men who were as smooth as Adam was.

  “I should say no,” she told him.

  “And crush my tender feelings? You wouldn’t do that, would you, . . . ?”

  “Mira.”

  His smile widened at the sound of her name, and he slipped his business card into the side pocket of her purse, giving her no option to reject it.

  “I’m only gone for the day, Mira. You pick the place and I’ll be there. Tonight at eight?”

  Tonight seemed too soon and yet not nearly soon enough.

  Shocking herself, she nodded her agreement as he took his coffee from her hand. His fingers brushed hers, and suddenly her burn no longer hurt. All she could feel was the hot tingles left behind in the wake of his touch.

  * * *

  Adam was . . . shaken. He’d planned to ingratiate himself with Mira and lure her off someplace private tonight, using whatever means necessary.

  He hadn’t planned on reacting to her on such a primitive level.

  She didn’t have the flawless perfection of models and movie stars, but there was something compelling about her that pulled him in and didn’t let go. She was genuine, without façade or artifice, with a kind of innocence about her that intrigued him.

  Adam had never met anyone so open. Even though he’d planned their meeting, he hadn’t expected her to follow him to his car, trailing afte

  r him with a string of apologies on her sweet lips.

  He could have easily overpowered her right then and there, shoving her into his trunk. The task would be done and he’d be on his way. But for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to brutalize her in that way. Innocence like hers was rare and precious. He didn’t want to completely crush her.

  Perhaps that was inevitable. A man like him could not operate under the guise of mercy. He had to be ruthless and give Dr. Sage what he wanted so that Adam could locate his brother. If Eli was like the rest, he was suffering. Adam refused to let his brother go through tr gnd hat alone.

  Even if it meant crushing Mira’s fragile innocence.

  Tonight he would meet her. H
e would drug her. He would take her to Sage and be done with his task. Whatever happened to her after that was none of his concern. Eli was all he could allow himself to care about. If Mira was a casualty of finding his brother, he was going to have to find a way to accept that and move on. Somehow.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Leigh had to get some air. Clay filled up the room and then some. She loved that about him even as she struggled to find enough oxygen to think clearly.

  Thinking was not something Clay had allowed her much time to do. She’d tried to keep control of the situation, but he’d stormed in, all eager and willing to please. She had no defenses against that kind of thing.

  If he’d been a jerk or pushed her, she could have stopped. Her body would still be clamoring for more, but at least she would have left the room with all of the pieces of herself intact. As it was, Leigh was scared to death that she’d left something vital behind, that she’d bared some essential part of herself and given it to him without realizing what she’d done. And there was no getting it back.

  But whatever she’d let go, it didn’t feel like a loss. She felt stronger, more capable. She could keep moving forward, doing whatever needed to be done.

  After she got her fill of him.

  A little part of her mind laughed at that thought. There was no getting enough of a man like Clay. All she could hope for was to get as much as she could before they parted ways.

  So that’s what she was going to do. She was going to gorge herself on the hunky, naked man in that bedroom until he begged for mercy.

  With his discarded towel wrapped around her, she grabbed some snacks and headed back into the lion’s den.

  Clay watched her, his amber eyes sparkling with intimate knowledge of a shared secret. The sheet was pulled to his waist, leaving bare the lean expanse of his chest and abdomen. Not even the bruises riding his ribs could diminish his raw beauty.

  Beneath the wrinkled edge of the sheet, she could see the unmistakable tent his arousal caused.

  “Don’t you ever get enough?” she teased.