Midnight Sins

by Lora Leigh

  His hips rolled beneath her, grinding his pelvis against her oversensitive clit as he thrust just enough, just hard enough, stroking violently sensitive inner nerve endings as his fingers stretched, worked, burned the sensitive ring of tissue that protected the inner flesh of her rear.

  She could feel a fury of flames beginning to burn inside her. Wicked, intense, and violently erotic. The heat began to build, to focus inward, blazing through her womb as she felt it begin to convulse.

  Her body tightened, the muscles of her pussy, her anus, clamping down on the dual penetration, throwing her into ecstasy.

  The implosion blinded her. Pleasure began tearing through her. It rippled and surged through her system as she tightened convulsively crying out and shuddering violently as his name tore past her lips in an agony of pure, burning rapture. She felt the hard, fiery blast of his semen pulsing inside her. Felt his fingers scissoring in her rear, extending the sensations. His free arm held her close to him, and a muted, broken male groan sounded at her ear.

  Ecstasy exploded again, tearing through her and pulling a desperate cry from her lips as she heard him whisper her name. His free hand moved up, locked in her hair, and turned her head to him, his lips catching hers, kissing her, devouring her cries and her pleasure as it tore through her.

  Torturously intense shudders of rapture raced through her flesh as she swore she could feel Rafer not just inside her body but also under her skin. He was invading parts of her she hadn’t realized he could ever breach.

  Lying against him, waves of heat sinking deeper and deeper inside her, Cami fought and failed to keep that inner part of her closed against him.

  She could feel, hear, his heartbeat against her breast as her throat tightened with tears. Tears she couldn’t, wouldn’t, allow herself to shed.

  Tears that didn’t make sense to her, because she had known, even before he touched her that first time seven years before, that between them there could never be anything more.

  * * *

  Rafe lay silently, petting Cami’s body gently as the shudders of her release began to slowly ease. The incredibly tense, violent vibrations of her orgasm had taken him by surprise. As though the pleasure had been pulled straight from some inner part of her feminine core and raced through her repeatedly before releasing.

  It took long minutes for her body to slowly relax, for the tremors to ease and the heavy, satisfied lassitude to move in and do its work.

  To keep her in place. To hold her to him while he tried to find a way to figure out exactly what had just happened.

  What had begun out of arrogant male pride and a lust he had no idea how to combat had turned into something more, into something he wasn’t certain he knew how to control.

  There was something about Cami that slid right past his defenses and locked inside a part of him that he simply wasn’t familiar with. A dark, dominant, primal part of his psyche that only awakened when he was with her.

  And he had no idea what the hell he was supposed to do about it or how to rid himself of it.

  “What’s going on between us, Rafer?” Her voice was quiet, wary, as she asked the question. “How do you do this to me?”

  In that soft, cautious tone she expressed the same conflicting feelings he could feel roiling inside himself.

  “Hell if I know,” he breathed out roughly after several long moments. “Whatever it is, it’s damned good, though.”

  It was a pleasure he would be loathe to lose after the storm was over and Cami left. He couldn’t imagine letting her go when the time came. Hell, he couldn’t imagine her walking away from him. Surely there was a way to convince her to stay, just for a little while. Just long enough to explore the pleasure, the dark, sensual need that drew them together.

  “It’s snowing again,” she said rather than taking the current conversation any further.

  Cami made all those dark hungers swirling inside him, so thick and heavy that it obliterated good common sense.

  He stroked his hand slowly down her back, relishing the feel of her satiny flesh, the warmth of her skin, the feel of her heartbeat against his own.

  “How long do you think we can stay apart this time without tearing into each other like love-starved teenagers the first time we see each other again?” That was what he was often reminded of since she had shown up on his doorstop the night before. “Do you really think you can escape this addiction another three years?”

  She tensed in his arms and for a moment, the briefest weakening moment, he wished he had kept his damned mouth shut.

  But the more realistic, logical part of his brain assured him it was a valid question and one she needed to be prepared to answer when they saw each other again. Reality sucked bad enough and there were times he’d give almost anything to escape it, but the truth was, there was no escaping. It. Better he face it now, and deal with it, than to have it surprise him later.

  “This can’t happen again, Rafer,” she said softly, pulling out of his arms to sit up in front of the fire. She gazed into the flickering flames.

  Her expression was somber, resigned, as she wiped a hand over her face and breathed in roughly. “We aren’t teenagers. And we’re going to have to simply accept that it can’t go anywhere and let it die as it should.”

  With her legs bent, her arms wrapped around them, as her chin rested at the top of her knees, she looked like a little lost girl. Especially with that short mop of hair framing her delicate face. She was a woman, though, and she was talking about walking away from something neither of them had been able to deny each time they had been face-to-face with each other.

  Her ability to fool herself, to weave daydreams and to believe them, simply amazed him.

  “You don’t really think that’s going to happen anytime soon, do you, Cami?” he said mockingly.

  No, she didn’t but she knew what was best for her heart, and allowing herself to fall once more into the emotional abyss that awaited her, if she allowed this to continue, was not what was best for her heart.

  Turning her head, she stared back at him. He was so comfortable in his nudity, so confident in it that she could only envy him.

  “Is this because of your parents?” he asked as he curled one arm behind his head and appeared as relaxed and comfortable as any finely muscled, highly sexual male animal.

  God, the man made her breathless only seconds after an orgasm so violent she’d nearly lost her mind. As that thought hit her, so did his question. She stared back at him with a frown. “What? Is what because of my parents?” Genuine confusion filled her.

  “Your refusal to admit there’s something between us,” he growled, a disgruntled frown tightening his brow.

  “There’s nothing between us,” she agreed. God, she didn’t want to do this right now.

  His expression tightened. She could see the male calculation that filled his gaze as well as the determination, and she knew what she had done.

  “I’m not a challenge or a dare, Rafer, so don’t start attempting to see me as one. I have no intention of falling into some kind of love-trap with you and losing my soul.”

  “Love-trap?” A black brow arched with deliberate arrogance. “What exactly is a love-trap, Cami?”

  Her lips thinned. Twisting around, she searched for her clothes before gritting her teeth in frustration. Hell, she had left them in the kitchen. Actually they were scattered from the kitchen to where they were now. She grabbed Rafer’s shirt instead and pushed her arms into the sleeves before pulling the material around her.

  “I’m not getting into this with you, Rafer,” she informed him as she moved to rise to her feet.

  “The hell you’re not.”

  Before she could avoid him, his fingers circled her wrist and pulled her back to him. Caught off balance, Cami found herself sprawled across his chest, staring back at him in surprise.

  “And what is this going to accomplish, Rafer?” she questioned him, struggling to keep calm, to refuse to allow the past between them
to overwhelm her.

  “Tell me, Cami, do you know what everyone in town says when they talk about you?”

  He let her push away, but only far enough to sit up again.

  Cami turned her gaze away from him to stare into the flames flickering in the fireplace. “Do I want to know?” Wrapping her arms around her knees, she refused to stare back at him.

  “Cambria Flannigan doesn’t give up,” he mocked out. “She’s a hell of a friend. Honest as hell. She’s even a cheap date. But she’s frigid as hell, no doubt a virgin, and refuses to let a man get even as far as first base.”

  “Well, then, evidently ‘everyone’ is wrong.” Turning back to him, she wished she had kept her eyes averted.

  “You’ve not been with another man other than me, Cami.”

  “Maybe my lovers just know how to keep their mouths shut,” she retorted with a blatant lie. “And maybe, Rafe, I simply don’t want the emotional ties that go with a ‘relationship’,” she bit out sarcastically. “There are those of us who aren’t all about that commitment that goes with sleeping with certain men.”

  She tried to rise to her feet again only to have him pull her back.

  “What the hell are you doing, Rafer?” she burst out at the dominance in his refusal to allow her to move away from him.

  “I’m getting fucking answers,” he snapped, his voice rising just marginally as his head lifted, his gaze flashing in anger.

  “Answers to what, Rafer? Why I refuse to fuck around or fuck men who would just love to advertise it? What business is it of yours?”

  “Liar!” His lips drew back as the word rasped from his lips. “You’ve been running from me for six years now, Cami. Sneaking out of the bed like a damned thief when the sun rises and avoiding me like the plague for the past three years. And I want to know why.”

  “Well, it sucks to be you, Rafer,” she announced archly as she fought the anger she could feel rising more sharply inside her now.

  “And what the hell do you mean by that?” he growled back at her, the muscles of his jaw flexing tightly.

  “Exactly what I said.” Shrugging, her lips pursing to hold back the anger, she jerked her arm out of his grip before rolling quickly away from him and to her feet. “I need a shower. Do me a favor and stop listening to gossip. You should know yourself exactly how destructive it can be.”

  She stalked from the living room, all but running from the living room and the questions she knew were getting ready to come from him.

  Why had she begun ignoring him?

  Why had she stopped making the trips to Denver that allowed him to waylay her for those few hours that allowed her to slip away at dawn? And why did she refuse to even question why they couldn’t resist that sexual pull that kept bringing them together?

  And they were questions she simply refused to answer. There was too much pain, too many emotions she had no choice but to keep buried inside her.

  “Things are going to go your way and be done your way, no matter what. Right?”

  “Pretty much,” he agreed.

  She so didn’t think so.

  Rather than stating the obvious, she turned and stalked to the shower, slamming and locking the door behind her.

  He should have followed her. It was his bathroom, his damned house. And by God, she was his damned woman. That was a decision he’d made six years ago, when she was more than eighteen years old. When he left the Marines, when he came back to stay, Cami would be his.

  He’d kept track of her. The few contacts he still had in Corbin let him know if she was dating anyone, if it was getting serious, what she was doing, and if she needed anything. He’d taken the decision he’d made very damned seriously.

  Cami was his, and he figured it was time he let her know that little fact.

  She would fight him. He wasn’t certain why she would fight him, but it was more than apparent that that was exactly what she had in mind.

  He hadn’t expected a challenge from her, but he wasn’t about to turn away from one either. It would only make her surrender sweeter, he thought. One of the reasons he’d looked forward to this return was the chance to finally claim Cami once and for all. He might not have that romantic, sweet idea of Prince Charming that she might think she wanted, but he knew how to keep her warm when the nights were cold.

  He knew how to please her.

  He knew how to protect her.

  Now if he could just convince “her” of those few, though no doubt important, facts.

  CHAPTER 8

  “Has he lost his fucking mind?” Crowe Callahan asked Logan the next morning, speaking through the voice-activated link to his cousin’s communications set. Crowe sat on the winter-white snowmobile, the winter camo protective gear he wore insulating him against the freezing wind as he held the matching binoculars to the eye slit of the thermal full-face ski mask.

  Staring from his position on the snow-covered mountainside, he couldn’t believe Rafe was actually standing out in the freezing cold and smoking yet another of the cigars Crowe and Logan kept trying to convince him to throw away.

  “Told you,” Logan said as he leaned back, ignoring Crowe’s intense, questioning look.

  Dressed in identical snow gear, Logan rested casually against the pack strapped to the back half of the seat as the now gently falling snow, the final edge of the blizzard, collected on the protective face mask and shaded goggles he wore. “What’s he doing this time?”

  The lazy, unconcerned drawl of his voice was distinctly at odds with the worry Crowe had seen earlier in his cousin’s face.

  Shaking his head, Crowe turned back, lifted the military-issue binoculars back to his eyes, and watched as his cousin leaned against the support post of the sheltered porch below, the cigar clenched between his teeth, tension radiating in the stiff set of his shoulders and the dark glower on his face.

  “He didn’t close the curtains to the living room,” Crowe mused as Cami Flannigan pulled the man’s long-sleeved white shirt over her naked body after rising from the bed of pillows, feather comforters, and quilts that Rafe had obviously made the night before.

  Like an animal creating a nest for his mate. Soft, warm, comforting, and protective. The aura of intimacy was so heavy it made Crowe’s back teeth ache in frustrated anger. His baby cousin was making nests, getting intimate, and staring into the stark snowscape furiously. Just before his little lover stalked from the room. Then, Rafe just had to follow the girl.

  “Really?” Logan rose from his reclined position. “Let me see.”

  Crowe snorted. “Pervert. She’s left the room now.”

  “And you got to see her naked?” Logan chuckled. “Hell, man, what made you get so lucky and not me? Can I tell Rafe you got to see his lady naked?”

  Crowe shook his head in amusement as he lowered the device once again. “That boy’s going to get himself in trouble.” He sighed. “Cami Flannigan is the last woman he should be screwing, especially under the current circumstances.”

  Especially considering the past and the circumstances of her sister’s death. As the sister of Jaymi Flannigan Kramer, the last in a series of serial rapes and murders twelve years before, Cami was a problem waiting to happen. Crowe and his cousins had nearly gone to prison for it at the time. Because of that, Cambria was the last woman in the world Rafe should even be in the same vicinity with let alone in the same bed.

  “Hey, I didn’t notice a lot of choice when I was there with him,” Logan pointed out with a hint of laughter. “And I’m sorry, man, but if I was stuck in a blizzard with Cami Flannigan I’d be all about fucking her too.”

  “Fucking her, not making yourself crazy over her.” Crowe sighed in resignation. You can fuck your women, Logan, without letting your heart get tangled up with your dicks.”

  “My dick’s untangled just fine, thank you very much, cousin,” Logan informed him with a hint of heavy amusement in his voice. “Matter of fact, it’s about as untangled as a dick can get.”

  Untan
gled, Crowe’s ass. Just give it time. Logan was all but hogtied and just didn’t know it yet. Dammit. How the hell was he supposed to protect his cousins’ asses without their help?

  Crowe stared back at his younger cousin as Logan’s green eyes twinkled back at him. the laughter in his gaze made the dark green depths seem to shimmer.

  “Really?” Crowe drawled mockingly. “And that little neighbor of yours isn’t putting a kink in it at all, right?” He couldn’t see the frown that pulled at Logan’s brow because of the cold weather mask, but Crowe saw the flash of ire in his cousin’s gaze.

  “Shut up,” he muttered, his voice muffled by the face mask he wore.

  Crowe breathed out roughly in resignation before turning back. He lifted the binoculars back to his eyes, and staring down at the two-story ranch house Clyde Ramsey had willed to his nephew, Rafer Callahan, along with the ranch.

  As Crowe swept over the valley with the binoculars, it didn’t take him long to find the road crew slowly working its way up the mountain toward the ranch.

  No one might know where Cambria Flannigan was yet, but it wouldn’t be long before her uncle Eddy Flannigan would be the first to figure it out. Shit was going to hit the fan when that happened, and Rafe would be stuck in the thick of it with no way out. Because there was no denying she had spent the duration of the blizzard there. It would be the perfect opportunity for Cami to try for a little revenge where her sister Jaymi was concerned. After all, the rest of her family believed the Callahans had killed her sister; over time, there was the possibility Cami could have been convinced.

  It would be too damned easy for her to accuse him of raping her, kidnapping her, or performing any other illegal act that could possibly get him thrown into prison.

  This was just what the hell the cousins needed.

  Not that the Cami he had known eleven years ago could have done such a thing. But that was eleven years ago and this was now. Who knew how she had changed? And Crowe was a suspicious bastard.

  They had to returned to Corbin County to find that “something” missing, not to help Rafe find his way into prison.