East of Redemption (Love on the Edge #2)

by Molly E. Lee

  “Don’t move,” he whispered, and left me standing there to go dig through my pack. He tugged out my sleeping bag in one fast motion and rolled it out.

  “Isn’t that cheating?” I asked, breathless.

  He cocked an eyebrow and reached for my hand. I gave it to him, and he pulled me gently down on the soft cushion of the bag. “Cameras are off, Rain. It’s just you and me.”

  I shivered, the heat from his voice coating my skin with warm chills. He laid me on my back and stripped off the rest of my clothes. After slipping off his pants and briefs, he positioned himself between my thighs, right where he’d always fit so perfectly, and butterflies fluttered in my stomach. It’d been years since I’d slept with a man I cared about this much, and not one I’d ever loved like I had loved Easton. This would mean something—quite possibly the definition of getting my heart broken again.

  As I looked into his eyes, his glorious, muscled body hovering above mine, I knew I didn’t have the power to stop what we were. Everything with him was intense, consuming, and delicious as fuck. It always had been. And when it came to him, I’d never get enough, even if it shredded me in the process.

  “Look at me,” he said, his breath against my cheek.

  I unclenched my eyes, only now realizing I’d shut them so tight.

  “We can stop.” He kissed me tenderly, pushing the hair away from my face. “If you’re not sure . . . and I don’t have protection. I didn’t plan this.”

  I shook my head. “I’m covered.” Just because I didn’t sleep around didn’t mean I wasn’t prepared for it. I licked my lips, my eyes trailing over every inch of his face, seeing the boy who’d claimed my heart so long ago, and the man he’d become. “I’m nervous,” I finally admitted.

  The notion was near comical, a grown woman being nervous to sleep with a man she’d slept with countless times before, but this was so much different than before. Then I’d been sure we’d spend the rest of our lives together. Now, I didn’t even know if there would be an after once we completed this job.

  He pressed his hard cock between my thighs, allowing the tip to hit my entrance only slightly. I gasped from the contact, which sent pulses of heat throughout my core.

  “Don’t be.” He moved again, slowly parting me and entering, satisfying the ache that had been present since I’d first heard his voice in Africa. “You feel that?” He filled me while slipping his hand beneath my lower back, yanking me upward, giving him an angle to get deeper.

  “Yes.” I sighed.

  “You’re wet and ready for me, Rain. Because you’re mine.” He slowly pulled out and entered me again, the friction so damn delicious and maddening at the same time. “You’ll always be mine.” He brought his lips to mine and teased my tongue with his own.

  I wrapped a leg around his waist, bucking against him to increase his speed, unable to take the slow torture he inflicted upon me. He was right, damn him. I’d never stopped being his. Just as he’d never stopped being mine, and I refused to think about why in the hell we’d ever stayed apart so long when we were so good together.

  He thrust a little harder, drawing my gaze with his. “Don’t go back there. Stay with me.”

  I dug my fingers into his skin and met each of his thrusts, maintaining leverage with the strength of my legs. He growled as I lightly nipped at his neck, the tension coiling inside me to an all-time high.

  “Easton,” I moaned, unable to contain his name within my lips as he shifted his weight and rolled one of my breasts in his hand.

  “God, Rain. When you say my name like that . . . it’s like a threat. I fucking love it.” He lightly pinched my nipple, pairing it with a deep, long thrust, and I came completely undone beneath him.

  He held me to him, keeping our bodies in sync even when I couldn’t see straight from the sparks exploding inside me, brushing my insides with the sweetest pressure, only to release it in the most incredible, full-bodied sigh.

  Easton cracked a grin as my trembles subsided. “We’re just getting started.”

  I raised my eyebrows, wondering when he’d developed such stamina, even under these circumstances.

  He flipped me over, positioning me on top of him, his face level with mine as I straddled him. I wrapped my arms around his neck and bit his lower lip. He hissed, and I arched against him, allowing my center to cover his still-hard cock.

  “You bet your ass we are,” I said, before moving until he slipped inside me again.

  His eyes widened, and he growled as I opted for his approach, riding him at an agonizingly slow pace.

  “Rain.” The edge in his voice only fueled the hot, pulsing need within me. Once wasn’t enough. I needed to devour him.

  Easton

  SOMEWHERE BETWEEN THE first and second time of reclaiming Rain for my own, the sun set and the darkness of the bunker was only slightly illuminated from the silver moon. We could see a sliver of the midnight sky peppered with diamond-like stars that glowed so much brighter than back home. It was the definition of perfect.

  Sure, the concrete floor beneath us tried to rob all the warmth we’d built in Rain’s sleeping bag, which only offered a little cushion against its unforgiving hardness, but the walls kept the wind at bay, and there in the quiet, we made ourselves a moment. Or two.

  Rain tucked her head onto my chest, tracing the lines on my abdomen with the tips of her fingers. If I hadn’t been so exhausted from the events of the last few days, it would’ve been enough to restart what we’d just finished. Being with her now was twenty times better than it had ever been, and yet there was so much that was the same. The piece of my soul that she had always held still thrived within me, something I didn’t think possible until she’d let me back in.

  The woman owned me with a look, a sigh from her lips, and an openness in her eyes that regarded me without judgment. After the painful past I’d given her . . . she remembered me as me. Not what I’d done to her, at least not entirely, which was beyond the definition of incredible.

  I squeezed her to me—this was more than I’d ever hoped for and everything I didn’t know I’d needed. The deep, black hole in my chest didn’t feel as dark. The guilt was there, heavy as ever, but the bitterness had lessened, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’d buried some of it between her legs—working off the guilt, the anger, and the need for her forgiveness while meeting every plea her body begged from me.

  I’d made her come many times over, and I’d do it again, every day for the rest of my life if she’d let me. I wanted to wake up in the mornings and know she was truly mine . . . but even though she’d forgiven me for leaving her all those years ago, I didn’t think I’d be lucky enough for her to be so understanding once she knew the reasoning behind it.

  “Are you with me?” she asked, her voice soft against my chest.

  I ran my fingers absently through her hair.

  “No. Ireland,” I lied, but it was a memory never far from my thoughts. I felt her grin against my skin, and then saw it light up her eyes when she moved to look at me.

  “That friend of my father’s who had the goat farm on the mountaintop?”

  I nodded. “He made the best cheese.”

  She chuckled, her wonderfully bare body trembling against me. “Says you.”

  “It’s not my fault you had a terrible palate back then. Tell me it has improved over the years.”

  She shrugged. “I haven’t been back since that trip. Who’s to know?”

  “You think he’s still around? Wasn’t he nearly a hundred years old when we met him?”

  “Please. Your memory can’t be that bad.”

  No, it was painfully clear and loved to replay memories like that in the most inopportune times—like when I’d bedded a random fangirl of the show. I’d always seen Rain. “I wonder if the property is still there. I was pretty fond of the storage hut he kept right off the grazing range.” I drew small circles on her bare back, remembering how we’d snuck off in the middle of the night and built a fire outsi
de that hut. I’d read to her from the light of the flames as she’d lain in the thick, lush green grass, gazing at the stars. I used to read to her all the time, it helped calm her on nights she couldn’t sleep. It had started when we were kids, and then had continued long after I’d told her I’d loved her.

  “Ireland and Walt Whitman. Perfection,” she said, clearly living in the same past I’d been. “And Easton.”

  A sharp heat pulsed in my chest every time she said my name—sometimes like a caress, other times like she was scolding me—but each time was like a drink of much needed ice-cold water. It filled me in ways I’d never thought possible.

  “Let’s go back. Track the goat farm down.”

  “We—”

  Rain’s words died in her throat as a muffled set of raised voices rang out in the distance. She jolted within my embrace, and I moved as quickly as I could to untangle us from the confines of the too-small sleeping bag. Scrambling to get pants on, I whacked my head on the low-hanging rock ceiling, the pain zipping down the back of my neck something fierce.

  “Fuck!” I hissed, grabbing the spot on the back of my head where I’d hit it. My fingers came back smeared with blood.

  “Easton . . .”

  “I’m fine.” I yanked my shirt over my head and flung my pack over my back. Rain mirrored my movements with wide, alarmed eyes.

  As quietly as possible I peeked my head out of the bunker, hoping the darkness of the night would shield me from whoever the hell was out there. Rain nudged my stomach, drawing my attention.

  She held out a small, single-scope binocular. I took it and raised my eyebrows at her. “Seriously? You didn’t tell me you had this in your pack?”

  She shrugged. “I didn’t think you’d use it for the show, but the cameras are still off, and we really need to know who is out there.”

  After a moment of contemplation, I took it and held the scope to my right eye. I pointed it in the direction where the voices came from. It took me a few moments of shifting my head back and forth, but finally I locked on to them.

  “Fuck.”

  “I don’t like the way you said that.”

  “No, but you liked the way I preformed it.”

  She smacked me hard on my stomach.

  “Wrong time. Right.” I focused the scope, the figures’ faces clear even when tinted green from the night vision. “Corrine and her goons, about half a mile west. Held up by what looks to be two Israeli military carrying AR15s.” Their movements escalated after a few seconds, and they trained their weapons on Corrine and the guys, who each dropped to their knees with their hands up. “I think they found the gun,” I said, unable to clearly tell if the soldiers were doing an active search of their gear or not. Either way, getting caught so close to the ceasefire line, in the dead of night, was not a way to win their trust. Having weapons on you, too? That was just asking for trouble.

  “What’s happening?” Rain hissed.

  “Karma came to collect an outstanding check from Corrine.” I shifted, lowering myself back inside the bunker.

  Rain covered her mouth with her hands, her eyes waging a battle between amusement and panic. “What will happen to them?”

  I shook my head, making sure both our packs were secure. “I have no idea. Prison probably, for the weapon, at least. For how long? Your guess is as good as mine. We’re not sticking around to find out.”

  “How’d they find our trail? We were so careful.”

  “They didn’t.” We’d made sure to hike in the rockiest areas where our steps couldn’t be tracked, just in case her team got lucky and found a way out of the cave faster than predicted. “They were too far west down the other side of the mountain. Corrine took a shot, in the dark no less. Stupid.”

  “Desperate,” Rain said.

  “If I’m right . . . if Harrison was right, this will be one of the most important discoveries in history. That kind of fame and fortune can drive people to do insane things.”

  “You really believe—”

  “I always have.”

  “And you waited.”

  I sighed. We’d been through this before, and honestly it was wicked hard to explain the reasons why I’d sat on such a find my entire career. It was because it wasn’t mine, it was his. Just like it was his death that had kept me away from the cave, too. Tragedy wrapped around the treasure of Harrison’s and my dreams, and I didn’t know how to break past it. But now I did. Rain was the key. She was the only one who could return to the cave with me, the only one I wanted to help me lay claim to it, which we would do in Harrison’s name.

  “We have to move. They’re a good distance away, but I don’t want them to call in backup and do a wide perimeter sweep. I wouldn’t put it past Corrine to rat us out, despite not knowing our exact location.”

  “Okay,” her voice cracked, and I cupped her cheek.

  “I’m sorry. I never thought any of this would happen when I asked you to come.” Add another high-risk situation to the list of what I’d put Rain through.

  “Makes one hell of a show.” She flipped open the high-definition camera and pointed it at me.

  God, this woman. Perfection. Her scent lingered on me, and that, paired with her ability to handle anything thrown at her, had my mouth watering and my heart begging me to keep her close this time.

  I quickly slipped into the camera version of myself and spoke in a low tone. “The same team who pulled a gun on us only hours ago have just now been detained by soldiers. As you’ve seen, it’s not always the terrain that can put your life at risk, it’s unscrupulous treasure hunters as well. I wouldn’t normally ever suggest leaving a prime shelter like this in order to hike at night—which in itself is extremely dangerous because of the uneven terrain, sporadic drop-offs, and a wide range of unaccounted for wildlife—but with the soldiers so close, and having no idea if the team will rat out their thoughts on our location, we can’t take the risk. The idea of sitting in a foreign prison for any length of time is enough to propel us forward.” I took a deep breath and made sure to smile. “Bonus, the looters who’d taken the bulk of Solomon’s treasure definitely had to make some of their journey under the protection of darkness so as to not be located. Traveling at night would allow them to cross a wider expanse, if not at a slower pace. So, with local authorities too close for comfort, and the blanket of Israel’s night sky, we’re stepping into the footprints of the past. Let’s hope the treasure finds its way into our hands as a result.”

  Rain gave me the thumbs-up, and I smiled at her, not the camera, showing the grin I reserved for her alone. I hated that she was here, her livelihood at risk, and her life literally at stake with the hike we were about to undertake, but at the same time, I loved that she was here. No other woman would ever be able to keep pace as well as she had, let alone surpass me in as many areas as she already had to. Having my match by my side, supporting me, believing in me, was better than any fuel for my internal fire, and with her on my heels, we crept out of the bunker and into the night.

  Rain

  NAVIGATING THROUGH THE trees on the mountain in the darkness was one of the hardest things I’d ever done. Each step was like walking in the ocean. The uncertainty of what was ahead was daunting and forced my movements to be long and awkward.

  My eyes had adjusted after an hour, but there were still things I couldn’t see—gaps and cracks in the rock, or fallen branches—that continued to slow us down. The only comfort was knowing we’d traded one dangerous fate for another—the idea of being caught out here, without permits . . . it made me shudder. With each passing day I found myself battling the pleasure I got out of the challenge and the logical sense in me that screamed to abort.

  Easton kept pace in front of me, his well-muscled form acting as my beacon in the darkness. My thighs were still hot from what we’d spent the beginning of the night doing, and I couldn’t believe how much I already wanted to do it again. The addiction to him hadn’t waned, and though he was mere inches in front of me, it st
ill felt like too much space. I decided to live only in the moments afforded to us and tried my hardest not to think about what continued to push us apart.

  He halted so quickly I bumped into his back, and he reached behind him and secured his arm around me.

  “What?” I whispered, widening my eyes, as if the action would enhance my sight.

  He stood so still I barely felt him breathing, and I followed the angle of his head, trained on the tight group of trees and rocks to our left. I could feel each tense, coiled muscle as he gripped my body to him. My heart pounded so hard I feared he would hear it. After a few moments, his statue-like stance deflated, and he sighed.

  “I thought I’d heard—”

  A shrill growl from the left roared over his words, and two glowing eyes darted out of the trees.

  Easton pushed me to the side so hard I slammed against the trunk of a tree and slid to the hard ground with a thud.

  “Fuck!” he hissed. His strained voice mixed with the snarl of the animal that had pounced and knocked him to his back.

  The sound reminded me of the wild dogs I’d met on my travels. The ones so ravenous for food they attacked nearly anything that moved, including photographers who’d lost their way. I’d had a close call once in Australia but had managed to get out of its line of sight before anything bad had happened.

  I sucked in a sharp breath and leaped to my feet as I watched Easton wrestle the beast. The teeth I could clearly see, and they were way too close to Easton’s neck. He held the animal back with both hands pushing against its chest as it clawed at him with frantic paws. The loud, clicking chomp sound its teeth made with each attempt to tear into him echoed into the previous stillness of the night. Relentless, the wild animal didn’t let up for one second and instinct drove me to action.

  Faster than I thought I was capable of moving, I grabbed the knife out of my boot, flipped it open, and lashed out with all the force I possessed behind it. The blade sunk right behind where I’d aimed, but it was still the softest part of the animal’s neck. A yelp tore through its snapping teeth, and the sound ripped my heart. I pushed harder, the muscles in my arms burning from the strength it took to force the thrashing creature off Easton. Finally, I pinned it to the ground, twisting the knife until the animal went limp.