by Angela White
Marc’s eyes snapped open, but her guilty face had him shaking his head. “No. Go to sleep.”
Angie braced herself. There was one last lesson to be learned. “Come to bed, Brady.”
Marc groaned, breaking out in a sweat, and he shuddered. His blood was pounding through tight veins, breathing rough.
Angela peered at him. “Are you all right?”
Marc tried to nod, but the tempo of the lust beating inside him grew, and he shifted again, thinking he’d have to do something about the iron bar in his jeans before climbing into bed with her. That picture made the need tighten another notch, and he jumped when he felt her cool hand settle onto his brow. He hadn’t heard her move.
“Damn, you’re hot. Let me check your eyes.”
Marc gritted his teeth as she checked him out. The feel of her hands on him, her hair sliding across his skin, was torture.
“I don’t understand. You don’t ha…” Angela broke off, frown growing. My bag. She’d told him top, left.
“I think I know what’s wrong with you.”
He did too. He needed to get laid more often.
“You didn’t take Vicodin. It was Viagra.”
Marc was horrified. “What?”
Angela opened her worn medical bag. “It got mixed up during the fight. You didn’t read the label.”
Marc let her go, hands itching to pull her back. “How long will I be like this? And why the hell do you have that?”
Angela flushed. “It’s for diseases. Lenore wants to trade it for the cornbread.”
Marc groaned again, body on fire. He eyed the white pills she held out warily.
“This is really Vicodin.”
He dry swallowed them before she could get him something to drink. “How long?”
“At least four hours, maybe six or eight.”
Marc’s head snapped back, eyes slamming shut. He wouldn’t last that long. “Can’t you give me something to counteract it?”
When she hesitated to speak, he knew there was something, but she didn’t want to tell him what it was.
“What?” he demanded.
“If you...take yourself in…” Face a furious red, Angela indicated the bed. “It will go away once you...”
“Next!”
“Let it wear off.”
Marc stifled a curse, shifting again. “There’s gotta be something else.”
“I’m sorry, there isn’t.”
The tension in the room only continued to grow. After five minutes of watching him squirm (and feeling her own hormones respond), Angela stood up.
“I’m gonna go out in the hall for a few minutes, have a smoke,” she stated, waving off his protests. “I’ll take Dog. You...handle things.”
“Stay?”
Angela froze at the blatant need in his rough voice, gaping at him. “While you…?”
Marc, surprisingly embarrassed, heard himself beg. “Please?” He’d never been so hard in his life, not even during their time together all those years ago.
Angela was surprised to find herself considering it, body long denied any real pleasure. “I couldn’t...”
“I’ll stay right here. I won’t leave this chair,” he vowed.
Angela knew she should leave before things went any farther, but the heat between them was stronger than the fear, and she hesitated, torn. He’d made her feel so alive when they were young! Memories, old and powerful, swirled through the drafty room.
“I can’t,” he groaned as their lips met again. “I’m sorry.”
The beautiful girl shifted restlessly under him, body begging for his touch. “But I want you to!” she complained.
The boy held himself in place only by a hair. They’d never gone this far before, and the hormones were in control of her mind. She was too young, forbidden…
When she slid a hand between them, he sucked in a harsh breath. “I can’t do–”
“Sshhhh...” her hand closed over him, stealing his voice, and he bucked in her grip as she stroked.
Struggling to think, he let her slide his tense hand under her skirt.
“Love me, Brady,” she moaned against his mouth. “As much as you can.”
Tortured will crumbling, he did just that.
“One of my favorite memories of us.”
Angie blushed at his words. The time after that, they’d gone as far as they could. There hadn’t been any holding back.
“I really can’t, Marc, I–”
“Shhh...” he soothed. “Love me, Angie. As much as you can.”
Jerked into the pain and loneliness she’d been forced to endure for so long, Angela watched his hands go to the buckle of his jeans.
Marc couldn’t stop himself, the lust was raging, and he held his breath as he popped the button on his jeans. He expected her to flee the tense seat she took on the corner of the bed.
Angela’s face was red, but there was no denying that she wanted to be here. When he raised his hips to slide his pants down, she tore her eyes away, breathing rapidly.
“Throw me a blanket.”
His voice was laced with need and control, and she did it without moving from her perch.
She heard the blankets rustle, hands shifting for comfort, and couldn’t stop herself from stealing a peek. It was in time to see his hand go around a rod of flesh that had her on her feet.
Marc saw her gaze go over his body, flashing fire and desire, and tightened his grip. “Mmm…”
The sound woke the woman inside, and Angela found herself watching as he pulled the blanket up and start to stroke… She wasn’t sure she could look away.
Marc watched her through narrowed slits, feeling the need tighten as she stared at the movements the blanket now hid. Slowly, he pulled it down.
Angela’s breath went out in a rush, the sight of his thick flesh sending heat into her gut.
Stroking faster, Marc asked, “You too? You used to love this.”
I still do, Angela thought. How many hours had they spent this way before the lust had driven them to more?
Marc heard the man inside push, “There’s another blanket. I’ll stay right here.”
She shifted restlessly, and he shut his eyes…most of the way. “I won’t look.”
Angela was still shocked to find herself here, in this moment, but fear wasn’t the strongest emotion–desire was. Physical contact was something she’d been reminded of during this trip and it was one of the things that she had hoped to conquer before now. In all the years since they’d been apart, she’d only pleased herself about a dozen times, and not at all in the last year.
“Please?”
Before she could change her mind, Angela grabbed the second cover and tossed it over herself, but from there…
“Angie, you don’t have to do this.”
The sudden flare of guilt from him had her shaking her head. He had nothing to feel guilty about–and neither did she.
With that choice, she put her hand beneath the cover and watched Marc…like she used to, when it was just them against the world.
Marc tried to slow himself down, not wanting to be done before she was, but he was on that edge already. He saw her arm brush a rigid nipple as she got comfortable and he listened to her small hiss of surprise at the sensation, fire boiling. She did it again, intentionally this time, and he stroked harder. That was the Angie he knew, the fearless, sexual nymph he’d eased into womanhood, and it was okay to think of that moment now, of how her tight body had wrapped around him in willing surrender.
He groaned at the feel of the memory mixing with reality and jerked himself from the edge by a hair.
Angela had stopped, watching him, remembering. She shivered.
“I can’t wait much longer,” he groaned.
The fear rose, making her tense, and Marc delivered one of those smoldering smiles she had always been affected by. “Scared?”
She nodded, voice rough. “A little.”
“You’re free to do as you please, Angie. N
o one owns you anymore.”
The happiness that gave her! Because it was true. She grinned, cheeks darkening further. “I’ll watch you for a minute.”
Marc wasn’t sure he had a minute after that. Lust surged, rubbing and caressing in slow motions that he burned to increase the speed of.
Her hands stirred under the blanket, slowly at first, and the urge to storm the bed and have her screaming out in climax was a hard one to resist.
“Move the blanket,” he coaxed. “Let me see, too.”
She did it slowly, revealing long, sexy legs and then white panties with a hand pushing the center aside. Her fingers rotated in small circles and Marc’s heart thumped as the edge flew his way.
“Damn, that’s hot. Lay back, pretend you’re alone.”
“Mmm…” The sound of Marc’s sexy voice had her convulsing in pleasure and her legs opened further to reveal dark curls and slick skin that pulsed.
“With me!” Angela demanded hoarsely as the first wave of fierce light exploded through her body.
“Uuhhh!” Marc arched, grip freezing as he released wildly at her climax. “Yeah!”
Coming down first, Angela immediately rolled over, pulling the blanket up. She’d thought to face fear or even guilt, but there was only relief as her body continued to jerk and twitch in satisfaction. She was free now.
Very unsure of her mood, Marc cleaned himself up and kept his mouth shut. He blew out the candle and moved to his side of the bed, intending to give her some space to think.
He was surprised when she held the blanket up and smiled at him.
“After that, I think it’s probably okay to ask if you’ll hold me while we sleep.”
Marc chuckled as he eased into the bed with her. That was what he wanted the most, what he had longed for at night. “My honor, baby.”
Sated, the witch and old Angela faded a bit, pushed back by the new person who was emerging. This new woman belonged to herself. She wasn’t so afraid to take chances that she forgot to live, and Angela let out a sigh of peace, tight against Marc’s hard chest. She fell asleep listening to his heartbeat for the first time in fifteen years.
Marc didn’t sleep at all–just held her and remembered.
Eavesdropping from the next room, Lenore was disappointed, but she would keep her word and let them go without trouble, sure she would forget about the handsome couple the minute they were out of sight. There was trouble on the horizon for all of them. Lenore could sense it coming, and she didn’t think she would see them again. At least, not alive.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Heat Waves
March 30th, 2012
Chadron, Nebraska
1
He hadn’t really expected to see her again, not even the body. He’d honestly hoped she would have already been dragged off by wild animals.
Kenn observed the couple as they slept, ignoring the unpleasant feel of the tall ash tree between his legs and the darkness that only let him hear the animals padding restlessly below. The beasts sniffed and pissed, trying to find a way into the truck that he had parked against the thick trunk, but the furious Marine paid them little attention.
Kenn had found the ranch house just before dawn, hitting shapes in the fog that were either dogs or coyotes as they attacked his tires. He’d taken up a window-high vantage point as a dim, foggy morning lit up the area, sure she was in there. His starlight scope had penetrated seven windows, and then he’d found them.
Covers tangled, limbs entwined, it appeared that a night of passion had worn the couple out. The woman wore a sleeping shirt that barely covered her thighs, flashing white panties as she stirred. The man, the wife-stealing, walking dead man, had on a pair of green boxers that the intruder recognized even from a distance. They were military issue…
Kenn’s grip tightened on the rifle in his hand, nails digging shallow grooves into the stock as he spotted a dog tag, familiar tattoos, and that careful scan upon waking that every Marine did.
Dread and cold rage formed a thick knot of hate in Kenn’s gut. Sergeant Marcus Brady was Angela’s show of force. He was one of the few people Kenn had ever felt threatened by.
The Marine struggled with himself–the old Kenny wanting to aim and fire, the new Kenn not wanting to kill without justification–and he waited tensely to discover how close his wife and his team leader were.
2
Curled against Marc’s back, Angela woke all at once and tensed. She sensed danger, though the voices were sated and silent.
He is close.
Her eyes snapped open.
She glanced at the window, and tried to focus. Had she seen something?
“Are you all right?”
Angela told herself it was just more nerves. She would be reunited with her son today…and Kenny.
At least it’ll be Easter and not All Fool’s Day, she thought. “We should get moving soon.”
Marc stretched, loving the feel of her pressed tight against him. “You regret it?”
“No.” Angela lingered despite feeling they should hurry. “You?”
“A little. It wasn’t what I had planned.”
Angela’s face was red. Watching him had been a blast from their stolen past–one she would be replaying in her mind for a while. “Hot as it got in here, I’m surprised it didn’t go further.”
Marc slowly rolled over, sliding an arm around her tense waist. “Don’t go back to him, honey. Please. We’re so good together.”
Angela was tempted. The time they’d spent together was seared into her, but the first thought upon waking had been one of fear. “I can’t make any promises. You know that.”
Marc did know, but he slowly lowered his lips to hers anyway. He would take whatever she let him have.
3
Kenn couldn’t take this.
Rage exploded in his mind as their mouths touched. When she let out a moan that Kenn couldn’t hear but felt anyway, blood pounded in his brain. How many times had that sound brought him to a thick, instant climax? A hundred? A thousand?
Kenn kept his finger away from the trigger by sheer will. If he killed them now, like this, he could never return to Adrian. Those sharp eyes read the blood on a man’s hands.
He had to do something, though. He couldn’t sit here and let her betray him, not while he was in range.
Angela pulled back suddenly, another swell of fear interrupting a moment that she didn’t know the ending to.
Even the wolf was tense, fur bristling.
Marc raised a brow. “Problem?”
She hesitated, very aware of him lying mostly on top of her. “Just wolves, I think. We should get up.”
Marc let her arm slide off his bare shoulder. “It didn’t happen, right?”
Angela flushed in the cool morning air. “For now.”
Marc sighed and sat up. “I didn’t expect it and neither did you. I won’t even try to forget it, but I can pretend it didn’t happen. Because in my heart, I know it did.”
Angela rolled out of the bed, and though he could now, Marc didn’t peek at her bare skin, respecting her choice. When she figured out what she wanted, she would let him know.
4
Knowing he should leave, Kenn lingered. Her creamy flesh was enticing as he studied them from a quarter mile away. The rifle was still clutched tightly across his lap as dozens of wolves continued to circle below. He had yet to find a woman whose body called to him as strongly or promised as much. Weak, Angela might be, but she was also hot. Always had been.
On the edge of murder, Kenn saw a clear moment below and took it, pulling the string to open the hatch of the sunroof. He quickly slid down the slimy tree, rifle over his shoulder, and was safely inside his truck with the roof latched before the hungry predators could react. They lunged onto the truck anyway, but it did them no good.
Viewing everything through a red haze, Kenn plowed into the animals mercilessly. He wasn’t going far, just to the Blazers he’d discovered. He had until the coup
le returned to the vehicles to figure out how to get rid of Brady so that he could give Angela what was coming to her.
She had brought a dangerous man who Kenn had hated long before the war. His thoughts raced with fury and fear. Coincidence?
I don’t believe in those. She’s been keeping secrets.
Kenn scowled. A fellow Marine had touched his woman, maybe even violated her. It was going to be hard to keep from killing him. Brady deserved to die for that.
5
“Will we have to fight our way out of here? Kill them?”
“No. She heard us last night and knows she was wrong.”
To Angela’s surprise, Marc flushed.
“That bothers you?”
He considered. “Might have been quieter.”
Angela laughed, tossing her small notepad onto the bed where he was tying his boots. “That makes two of us. Page seven is what I agreed to trade and what I got for it.”
Marc picked up the small notebook, subtly observing her as she moved around the room, getting ready to deal with what was coming. She left her hair down, braids mixed in, and when she tugged her jeans up over a creamy cheek, Marc forgot to breathe.
“Well?”
He mentally snickered as he replied, “Looks good to me.”
“Max said to leave it at the barn. The wolves don’t usually come out until dusk. I also agreed to have you check their venting system while I give the kids a checkup. We’ll probably be here until mid-afternoon,” Angela said. “I wanted to ask you first, but she’s set in stone on this “woman in charge” shit.”
“Works for me. I’m well trained, remember?”
The amusement was forced, the room suddenly tense, and Marc wasn’t sure how to begin. There were things he needed to know, things he needed to say.
“What do you think about Safe Haven? Do they feel okay?”
“They seem organized. Careful.”
“They’re his people. What he’s told them, they’ll believe.”
“Beyond grabbing Charlie and running, which you already know I won’t do, we’ll have to hope they’re good people who can recognize the truth.”
