Midnight Sun

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Midnight Sun Page 10

by Rachel Grant


  “Where are you going?” she called though the open door.

  He returned a moment later with her purse. “Condoms.” He set the bag on the bed. “I know better than to go through a woman’s purse.”

  She grinned and pulled out the box. God, how he loved her sexy smile. He climbed on the bed next to her and touched her skin, starting at her shoulder, over her breast, pausing to tweak the nipple, then lower, across her belly, over her hip, at last reaching her thigh, where he stroked in ever-widening circles, dropping between her legs and inching closer and closer to her center. He licked her nipple, then drew it into his mouth to suck on it. The pert tip felt so damn good on his tongue.

  She pushed at his chest, rolling him to his back, and she straddled him, her hot center directly on his erection. She took his hands and pinned them above his head on the mattress. “I can do whatever I want?” she asked.

  “Hell, yeah.”

  She dropped kisses on his face, nibbled along his jaw, then released his hands so she could move lower, sucking on his neck, his chest, finally shifting to his side to nip at his ribs and belly. “You have an amazing body. Are you sure you’re a lawyer?”

  He grinned. “Pretty sure. It would seriously mess with my job as an AUSA if I weren’t.”

  She traced his abs, trailing her fingers ever lower until she followed the thicker line of hair that extended south. She continued on that path all the way to the tip of his penis. Her thumb caressed him, then she grinned and dipped down and licked him like he was a lollipop, twirling her tongue around the head.

  He tightened his abs, forcing himself to hold back and not thrust himself into her sweet, hot mouth. She licked him again, taking him a little deeper inside. With a sideways glance, she met his gaze and took his cock deep into her throat.

  He curled his fingers into the bedding, forcing himself to remain still as she sucked on him while looking into his eyes. He clenched his teeth and said, “Holy fuck, that feels good.”

  She sucked all the way to the tip, then wrapped her hand around the base and stroked as she ran her tongue along the underside of the shaft. “You look so hot right now,” she said. “Your eyes are so intense with arousal, and your muscles tight with coiled energy. Ready to strike.” Without breaking eye contact, she sucked on him again, a slow, wet slide that took him to the brink. “I loved sucking on your cock in the dark. But this. Seeing you. Is even better.”

  He cupped her head, lifting her mouth from his cock, then sat up, pulling her with him until their mouths met in a hot, deep kiss. He pressed a hand between her thighs and stroked her clit, then slipped between her folds and felt her slick heat. She groaned without breaking the kiss and rocked her hips against his fingers.

  She was wet and ready, and he needed to taste her. He nudged her to her back and spread her thighs. He licked her clit. Sucked on it, loving the way her body tightened with each delicious swipe of his tongue. He shifted, stroking her with his thumb as he thrust his tongue inside her, then returning to her clit so he could suck and lick and make her body tighten with building orgasm. She pulled back. “Inside me, Rhys. I want you inside me.”

  He wanted that too, but she tasted so sweet, and he loved the way she panted as he brought her ever closer to orgasm. He licked her again, sucking while abrading her with his tongue.

  “Please, Rhys.” She took a shuddering breath. “That feels…so…ohh…” She pulled back again, this time scooting farther away. “Get a condom on and get inside me.” Her tone was firm.

  He chuckled. “Yes, ma’am.”

  He grabbed a condom from the box and sheathed himself, then settled between her thighs. “You want this slow and sweet, or a hard fuck?”

  “Earlier I would have said slow and sweet, but I’m so hot now I just need you to fuck me. I might die if you don’t fuck me.” She was less timid using the word fuck now, which turned him on even more.

  He slid his cock into her slick, tight body, her heat enclosing him as she let out a low moan of pleasure that captured exactly how he felt. He kissed her, a hot deep kiss that kept rhythm with his thrusts as he moved within her. She locked her ankles behind his back, clenching him to her. Her body tightened, and the pace of her breathy moans increased. His orgasm raced toward him, and he slowed so he could reach between them and massage her clit. She let out a guttural moan at the first touch, and he was gone, caught in the throes of his own orgasm as she came undone in his arms.

  Her orgasm continued past his, and he smiled and slowly thrust inside her, keeping her aloft for as long as he could, then he dropped down and rolled to his side, gathering her against him, still inside her tight body.

  She smiled at him and brushed a lock of hair from his forehead. “You know, I quite liked that.”

  He laughed and kissed her nose. “Yeah, well, I fucking loved it.”

  “You are quite a man, Rhys Vaughan. I’m really glad the mask picked you, and I’m already dreading the moment when you’re no longer under its spell.”

  He stiffened. “What makes you think that will change anything?”

  “When the mask is no longer messing with our minds, this crazy attraction might disappear.”

  His heart, having finally slowed after orgasm, started to pound again, this time with pain that held a bitter edge. He released her, sliding from her body. Moving away from her heat. “Are you saying you don’t think you’d be attracted to me if it weren’t for the mask?”

  “What? No!” She reached to pull him back, but he moved farther away. “I mean that you won’t be interested in me.”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Why? Look at you. You’re perfect. You’re handsome, successful. Smart. Charming. Ripped. Guys like you don’t give women like me the time of day.”

  “What the hell do you mean, women like you?”

  She pursed her lips. “I need to lose fifteen pounds, I own a small business that could go under at any time, I’m inhibited and insecure, not to mention currently haunted by an old shaman. Face it, I’m not the type of woman who usually draws interest from men like you.”

  “I don’t know which bothers me more, that you think I’m some sort of asshole snob or the way you’re denigrating yourself.” He rolled out of bed and left the room to use the bathroom. After disposing of the condom, he cleaned up and splashed water on his face, trying to rein in his temper and the hurt. What if, for her, this wasn’t real?

  What if he was the only one falling in love?

  He returned to the bedroom and leaned against the doorframe. She’d covered herself with the top blanket, already withdrawing from him while he stood naked before her.

  She pulled her knees to her chest and rested her chin on them. “Rhys, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make it sound like I think you’re a jerk. I don’t. Not at all. You’re amazing, and I don’t… I can’t…” She sighed. “I’m not going to get attached to the idea this is real, because I don’t want to be hurt when it’s over.”

  So he was ass-over-teakettle, while she was…what…holding back? Just having fun? “I can’t believe I’ve had the best sex of my life—twice—and you’re already planning our breakup.”

  Her eyes widened. “Best sex ever?” The blanket slipped, revealing the tops of her breasts to his eager gaze.

  He stepped toward her. “Yes. Maybe you get your rocks off like that all the time, but for me, it was damn special.”

  “No.” She cleared her throat. “It’s never been like that for me before. Ever. I just figured a guy like you—”

  “Can you cut out the ‘guy like you’ stuff?”

  “Sorry.” She shifted, causing the blanket to slip even lower, revealing her nipples.

  He dropped onto the bed, sitting beside her, and tugged the blanket down another two inches. “I’m stupid crazy about you, Sienna. I know the mask brought us together, but that’s all it was—a matchmaker. The rest is up to us.”

  “I’m afraid to believe that, because if I go all in, I don’t think I’ll ev
er get over losing you.”

  “I’m not asking you to go all in, but I’d really appreciate it if you’d stop folding before all the cards are dealt.” He kissed her. “I can’t see the future, but nothing about the present makes me think we won’t be together when we’re even older than Archie. All I ask is that you give us a chance now. Can you do that?”

  She slipped her tongue between his lips, a silent but enthusiastic acquiescence.

  He smiled and pushed her back on the bed, then tugged the blanket down slowly, revealing her perfect curves one inch at a time. “And I’m looking forward to working together to banish all those inhibitions I’ve seen no sign of, but which you seem to think you have.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Sienna woke slowly, first feeling Rhys’s mouth on her shoulder, his hand on her breast. Her body came awake in stages, directly correlated to the region on which Rhys devoted his attention. She didn’t open her eyes until his thick cock was deep inside her, and then she came to a powerful climax as she stared deep into his incredible blue eyes.

  She suspected she was falling in love with him but was afraid to embrace the exhilarating feeling. No, afraid wasn’t the right word. She was terrified.

  Afterward, he held her, kissing her cheeks, her lips, her hairline. “You’re thinking again, aren’t you?” His deep voice sent a warm vibration across her nervous system, similar to her reaction when a favorite song came on the radio. She wanted to turn up the volume and sway.

  “Who, me? I don’t think. I just enjoy.” She cupped his face between her hands. “And I enjoy you immensely.”

  He laughed, his wide smile the melody of her favorite song. The phone on the nightstand rang, a discordant note that messed with the harmony. He leaned over her to check caller ID. “It’s the FBI,” he said and answered the call.

  She scooted up in bed and listened while he talked to the agent, and was relieved when it was apparent the man would fly out to Itqaklut today. But then, the museum curator had been murdered last night; even Officer Tourney was inclined to take them seriously now.

  She smiled as Rhys told the agent he suspected Adam had stolen the mask. They knew so much more than they could reveal.

  When the call was complete, Sienna got out of bed and grabbed Rhys’s shirt from the floor. She slipped it on, then flipped her tangled hair from under the collar. Rhys’s eyes heated, fixed on the open shirt as it gaped around her breasts, so she flashed a smile and slowly started buttoning from the bottom.

  Rhys climbed out of bed and paused before her, beautiful, naked, and erect. He stroked her breast, stopping her from buttoning the shirt, and said, “Don’t you dare get dressed. I need to fuck you again. Now.”

  His eyes widened, his face expressing the same shock she felt as she realized they’d caught a glimpse of this moment the first night they met.

  “Every detail was right,” she said.

  “Is the mask always right when it sends you visions? I don’t mean the alternate-reality visions, I mean the glimpses of the future. Like that one.”

  “That was the first—and only—time it showed me the future.”

  “Helluva moment for the mask to choose to share. I thought I was losing my mind. And I had a massive erection as I searched this room for clothes for you.”

  She pressed her body against him. “And I fantasized about making love with you in the shower.”

  “Well, maybe that should be your first fantasy we make come true.” He took her hand and pulled her toward the bathroom.

  The phone rang, stopping them both. Sienna huffed out a breath. “I guess we’ve got responsibilities, and sex fantasies will have to wait.”

  Rhys nodded and answered the phone.

  It was nine in the morning when they ventured out, early for a town whose all-night festival had been cut short with a murder, and the streets were empty as they drove south to the heart of the town to visit Chuck, who’d arrived in Itqaklut and promptly checked himself into the only medical clinic in the area, then called Rhys to let him know he’d left Anchorage without warning.

  Rhys was worried about the risk Chuck had taken in leaving the bigger, state-of-the-art hospital, but relieved his cousin had been deemed well enough to travel. When they arrived at the clinic, Chuck was sitting up in his bed, looking robust and full of life—a big difference from his appearance a few days ago.

  “Sienna Aubrey?” Chuck asked in his usual booming voice, which held a slight, suspicious edge.

  Sienna approached him nervously, but she didn’t know Chuck was more teddy bear than grizzly. Rhys hoped.

  His cousin’s broad face split into a warm monster grin. Everything about Chuck was huge—right down to his wide smile and giant front teeth. “Well, now I understand my idiot cousin’s quick decision to invite you to stay at my house. But don’t let his rash act fool you. He’s more prude than player.”

  Rhys rolled his eyes. “I’m neither.”

  “Yeah. Right.”

  Rhys’s eyes burned. He was grateful for the good-natured teasing. Chuck had almost died a week ago, but here he was, his oversized, robust self. Chuck’s mother used to say Chuck was so full of life, he could power two people, but Rhys had always figured that number was too low.

  Sienna’s shoulders relaxed. She was smart, resourceful, strong, and his, and he couldn’t help but feel a rush of possessive pride at the thought. “Chuck, be nice and only tell Sienna good things about me, because I really like her and will beat you with a spoon if you scare her off.”

  Sienna rolled her beautiful, warm eyes. “He’s totally a player.”

  Chuck snorted. “Anyone who can knock the stick out of Rhys’s ass and make him smile instead of being Morose Moose all the time is my friend for life.”

  She laughed. “Morose Moose?”

  “He started calling me that when I was nine.”

  “More like nineteen, when you quit playing college baseball to focus on school and the nightmare you were dating dumped you for a jock.”

  Sienna’s grin widened, and she grabbed a visitor’s chair, pulling it close to the hospital bed to park herself at Chuck’s side. “I want to hear more about Morose Moose.”

  “No, you don’t.” Rhys dropped a kiss on her forehead, then met his cousin’s gaze. “So how did you convince the doctor to let you travel back here?”

  Chuck fidgeted, and his gaze darted around.

  “Crap, Chuck. Should you be in Anchorage?”

  “No. I made it here fine, and I am better. There’s a chance I won’t need another dialysis treatment, but if I do, it can be handled here. But, yeah, the doc wasn’t thrilled with my leaving Anchorage.”

  “Then why did you come?” Rhys asked, more than a little worried.

  “I had a dream last night, only…it wasn’t a dream.” Chuck glanced at the open door just as someone in scrubs walked by.

  Rhys, suspecting what was coming, crossed the room and closed the door. He leaned against it to prevent anyone from surprising them mid-conversation. “A dream?” he prompted.

  “You both need to tell me everything—and I mean everything—about the mask. Starting with how long it’s been haunting you, Sienna.”

  In the end, they told Chuck everything. Well, not the details of the sex dream, or the vision of the future they’d both shared, just that both events had occurred. Sienna was uncomfortable at first, but the more it became clear Chuck believed without reservation, the easier the words came.

  Chuck Vaughan was a giant of a man, or he would be, if he weren’t confined to a bed. It was hard to guess his height lying down, but she guessed he was taller than Rhys and built like a linebacker. He was so robust—in size and energy—it was hard to believe he was sick, and that he belonged in a hospital bed.

  After they finished their story, Chuck was silent for a long time. Finally, he said, “What I don’t get is why the mask saved you both—but it didn’t save my Jana.” At that, his wide, warm face crumpled, the man whose smile could power a room
extinguished with grief.

  “What do you mean?” Rhys asked. “The crash that killed Jana wasn’t an accident?”

  With a swipe of a beefy fist, Chuck shoved aside the wheeled tray that loomed at his bedside. It crashed into the far wall. He flopped back against his pillows and swiped his thick fingers across his face. “I saw it all in my dream that wasn’t a dream. I was Jana. I entered the storage facility and caught those asshole Pelligrew brothers with the mask. They grabbed me, covered my mouth and nose until I passed out. I came to as they put me on the snow machine, turned it on, and shoved me over the embankment. Jana died because of that damn mask, and it didn’t do a damn thing to save her.”

  Sienna felt a hum in her bones that could only be the mask. It was frantic to tell Chuck something, but it wasn’t able to share thoughts with him. “Chuck,” Sienna said, her throat dry. “How did you know about the mask—that it was haunting me? What you described was Jana’s memory. The mask was there, but how did you know the mask has a spirit?”

  Chuck frowned. “After I—Jana—died in my dream, the mask became the focal point—my point of view into the world. I got glimpses of the box I was shipped to Washington in. Then I saw you, in the museum, when you opened the box, and later arguing with the curator. And then I saw Rhys, in my office, pretending to be me.”

  Sienna nodded. That was the only time the mask had been outside the box in Rhys’s presence. “You might think I’m crazy—well, hell, everything about this is crazy—but I think the mask is telling me… Jana is telling me… the mask couldn’t save her, because Jana is the mask. When she died, her spirit went into the mask.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  A vacuum of silence descended as Sienna’s last sentence echoed in Rhys’s mind. Slowly, Chuck’s face turned from his natural olive hue to a pale, sickly white that reminded Rhys of how ill he’d been just days ago.

 

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