Scorched
Page 16
Kelsey stared glumly into the darkness. It was the same dilemma she’d had before, only now the stakes were higher. Gage was involved, which automatically put his career at stake. Her career was at stake, too, if she didn’t figure out a way to keep this whole debacle from destroying her reputation in law-enforcement circles.
And then there was the victim in the barn. Who killed him? Why did he die? Was he some innocent homeowner caught in the wrong place at the wrong time? Had he seen something he shouldn’t, as Kelsey had? Or was he involved in something illegal that had caused him to be decapitated with a shotgun?
“I’m proud of you,” Gage said again, but this time his voice was warm against her ear. “Joe would have been proud of you, too.”
Tears sprang into her eyes at the words. She turned her face upward and gazed up at the thin sliver of moon.
“I miss him.”
His arms tightened. “I do, too.”
She stroked her hands over his muscular forearms and cupped them over his big fingers. His entire body was big, and she’d always loved that about him. She wasn’t self-conscious around him because he’d always made her feel feminine.
She looked out and listened to the desert. “You know, when I first got the call—when I was in the Philippines—I thought it was about you.”
He didn’t say anything as she traced her finger over his knuckles. Did he have any idea how hard it was always expecting a call like that? Joe’s death had been so awful, and throughout the funeral she’d kept thinking that at least he hadn’t been married. At least he hadn’t left behind a wife and kids. She’d looked at all those strong young men in the pews and thought about their families—their wives and girlfriends and parents and siblings, all dreading phone calls like the one she’d received. The potential for heartbreak was immeasurable.
Gage shifted her closer. She looked up at the sky. She tried to focus on the faint, barely perceptible sounds of the night rather than the low buzz of warning in her head.
His hands slid down her thighs, and she tensed.
“Relax,” he whispered, and his breath tickled the back of her neck.
She didn’t relax. Her pulse sped up as his hands moved slowly over her thighs, gently kneading them through the denim of her jeans.
“You know what we’ve never done together?”
She turned to look at him. “What?”
“Gone camping.”
She settled back against his chest. “Well, if tonight is your effort to convince me, I’m not sold.”
“It’d be fun. There’re a lot of things we haven’t done together.”
She didn’t respond, wanting to hear what he’d say next.
“Skydiving, for instance.”
“Actually, that I might like.”
“Really? You’d try it?”
“Maybe,” she said. “If we were strapped together or something.”
“That can be arranged.”
She gazed up at the stars and pretended they were somewhere else. Beneath the redwoods, maybe. Or camping on the beach.
Anywhere but lost in the desert, running for their lives. Only they weren’t running anymore. She was acutely aware of the fact that he thought they were safe enough to take a break.
And she was acutely aware of his hands stroking over her legs, warming her skin. Warming her everything.
“Kelsey.” He kissed her neck. “Let me make you feel good.”
Her pulse skittered. She should be resisting this, telling him no. But she didn’t make a sound. The only sound she could hear now was the wind whistling around the rocks and the thump of her own heartbeat.
He took her silence for a yes and moved his hands slowly down until they rested on her hips. Then they slid up her rib cage to cup her breasts, and he made a groan deep in his chest.
“Damn, I missed you.”
She’d missed him, too, but it wasn’t just sexual—it was a cold, bone-deep ache that she’d fought hard not to think about for eight long months. And now here she was, surrounded by his body, letting him stoke the fire back into her with his knowing hands.
“Relax,” he said again, and his thumbs made slow circles over the tips of her breasts. She couldn’t relax. Heat pooled low in her belly and her nerves fluttered with anticipation.
She was going to regret this tomorrow. Assuming they lived to see another sunrise. Which she did assume, because he wouldn’t be sitting here touching her this way if he thought they were in imminent danger.
At least she didn’t think he would. He was on a mission to protect her, but she knew part of that mission included getting her to sleep with him. For days now, he’d been watching her with that glint in his eyes, making no secret of what he wanted. It was no secret now, either, as one of his hands slid down to settle between her legs.
She squirmed, and he responded with a hot kiss just under her ear. Heat jolted through her.
Tomorrow she’d be sorry. But even that realization brought a rush of excitement, because it meant she was going to do it. She was going to break eight long months of forced aloofness and open herself up to him again.
She took a deep breath. “This doesn’t change anything.”
He went still. It was her moment of surrender, and they both knew it. He wrapped his arms around her waist and squeezed tightly.
“I mean it.” She twisted around to face him. “Nothing changes.”
He made a grunt of what could have been agreement as he shifted her into his lap, facing him, and went after her mouth. The kiss was hot, impatient. Her sudden change of heart seemed to trigger some insatiable need he’d been keeping locked down. He pulled the jacket from her arms and shoved her shirt up, then fastened his mouth over her nipple. She tugged the shirt over her head and tossed it away as he splayed his hands behind her back and pulled her against him. The breeze tickled her skin, but his hands were warm as they stroked over her. He pulled the straps of her bra down her arms and pushed the lace aside.
“God, you’re pretty.”
She smiled. “You can’t even see me.”
“I can feel you.”
He kissed her and licked her, and she arched her back and let his heat spread into her. She missed this. She’d missed this so much she couldn’t quite believe it was happening, but she combed her fingers into his hair and dug her nails into his scalp to confirm it was real. He kissed his way up her throat and went for her mouth.
She pulled back. “My chin.”
“I’ll be careful.”
He threaded his fingers into her hair and angled her head so he could kiss her. His lips felt gentle against the side of her mouth, and the tenderness of it made her chest tighten. Their tongues tangled together and he tasted so good—so hot and male and familiar—and she wanted to freeze the moment so she could look back on it later when he was halfway around the world and the horrible loneliness set in again.
But she didn’t want to think about that now. She wanted to think about this moment only, and the fact that they were completely alone together, completely focused on making each other feel pleasure. She reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. She slid her palms over his broad chest, loving the texture of his hair, the definition of his abs. He’d once told her that abs were the bedrock of a fighting man’s strength—they were good for climbing and rowing and lifting and swimming. She stroked her hands over his muscles now, loving his body and the way that he took pride in keeping it in such peak condition. She trailed her fingertips down and went to work on his belt.
“Your gun,” she whispered.
He shifted her off his lap so he could get rid of the holster as she sat back and waited. The breeze kicked up and she glanced around at the surrounding darkness. The moon was hidden behind a cloud, making the darkness even more complete.
His hands slid around her. He unhooked her bra and tossed it away. One hand cupped her breast as the other glided down to unbutton her jeans. She eased away from him to kick off her shoes. As she wrig
gled out of her jeans, she heard the thump of his sneakers hitting the ground beside the ever-growing pile of clothes and gear.
He trailed his fingers down her arm and found her hand. He started to pull her onto him, but she resisted.
“I want to lie down,” she said.
“This ground’s pretty hard.”
Instead of arguing with him, she felt around for her jacket. She spread it out beside his shirt and stretched out on top of it.
His hand traced over her body and came to rest on her hipbone.
“Honey . . . you’re not going to like that.”
“Shows what you know.”
Silence.
She closed her eyes and waited, tingling. Soon she felt the warm slide of his hands over her thighs.
“I know what you like.” His voice was low and dangerous, and a shiver of excitement moved through her. He did know. He was so physical, so intuitive—he’d always seemed to know her body even better than she did.
His fingers became feather-light as he reached her breasts, then skimmed over her navel. Up and down, lazy circles that made her dizzy with lust. He nudged her legs apart with his knee and bent over her.
“Cold?” he asked, gliding kisses over her.
She shivered again. He dipped his head down and nuzzled her rib cage, and her hands went into his hair. His stubble rasped her skin as he kissed his way down her body. She arched back.
“Gage.”
But he wasn’t listening—at least not to her words. He was completely focused on showing her with his mouth and his hands that he knew exactly what she craved—what she’d been craving for months and months. She moved under him, feeling the heat build, feeling the excruciating pressure until she felt like she’d shatter.
“Gage.”
He sat back and pushed her legs apart, and she braced herself for that bittersweet joining she’d been yearning for ever since that kiss in the forest—the one that let her know she’d been fooling herself all this time by telling herself she didn’t want him. She did want him, with every cell in her body. And in this moment, she had him. She wrapped her arms and legs around him and pulled him as close as she possibly could, so close she couldn’t breathe.
He supported his weight on his palms and moved against her, setting a powerful rhythm that she strove to match. All that energy poured into her. His muscles grew slick under her hands and she felt him struggling to keep his weight from crushing her as he gave her exactly what she wanted, exactly what he knew she needed. She tipped her head back as everything started to swim. The pain and the pleasure converged into a single bright pinpoint. Her world exploded in a blinding burst of light, and then his did, too.
She lay there, shuddering, until the last bright flash faded into a dim afterimage. She opened her eyes and blinked up into the inky darkness.
Gage rolled onto his side, leaving her naked and exposed in the desert chill.
“Damn, Kelsey.”
She turned to look at him, oddly pleased to hear his labored breathing. “Damn what?”
“Just . . . damn.”
She rested her hand on his sternum and felt his heart pounding. Knowing she’d done that to a man who could run marathons gave her a surge of pride. She scooted over and nestled her head against his side.
For a long moment they just lay there, listening to the sounds of the desert. Wind howled through the rocks. She shivered. He nudged her onto her side and pulled her back against him, so that her backside was snug against his groin.
“Was that so bad?”
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “What are you talking about?”
“You and me.”
She jabbed an elbow into him.
“Ouch! Hey.” He trapped her arm against her chest.
“Of course it wasn’t bad. It was never bad. It was just—”
Terrifying, she wanted to say. That was exactly the word for it. Because every time they got close like this, all she could think about was how beautiful he was, how perfect. And no matter how beautiful or perfect, or strong or well-trained, he still wasn’t bulletproof. Looking at his scar earlier had underlined that fact. He could be ripped away from her in the blink of an eye.
“Amazing?” He nibbled her neck. “Hot?”
“Amazingly hot.”
He made a low growl. “I knew it.”
“But this doesn’t change anything.”
“You said that already.”
“I meant it.”
He filled his hand with her breast and pulled her in closer.
“Gage?”
He gave a contented sigh and his body went lax around her. “Take a nap, Kelsey. We can argue about it later.”
CHAPTER 12
Kelsey awoke to the sound of voices. She sat up.
Correction—Gage’s voice. He kneeled beside a boulder, talking on his cell phone as he scanned their surroundings with an eagle eye.
She rubbed her eyes and looked around. In the predawn light the desert looked otherworldly, like some sort of moonscape. Kelsey shifted and the jacket she’d been using as a blanket slid off of her hips. She pulled it around her shoulders and searched for the rest of her clothing as her sluggish brain tuned into the conversation.
“About four, maybe five clicks.”
She found jeans and panties and wiggled into them. She glanced at Gage. He was watching her intently, but his thoughts looked to be a million miles away.
“Say again? You’re cutting out.” He stood up and glanced around, as if looking for a cell tower. Kelsey looked, too. She saw nothing in any direction except miles of desert.
Gage mumbled a curse and stuffed the phone in his pocket.
“That was Derek,” he said, crunching over the rocks to stand beside her. He had on cargo shorts and worn running shoes, but he was bare-chested, and her gaze went to the mark on his shoulder.
“Derek Vaughn?”
“He’s meeting us in Copperville.”
She blinked up at him. “He’s coming here?”
“He already is here.” He looked out over the horizon. “Actually, he’s in Briggs. He drove up last night, said he has something urgent he wants to talk about.”
Kelsey glanced around, trying to process everything at once. Her head throbbed. Her mouth was parched. She felt as though she had the mother of all hangovers, only she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a drop of alcohol.
She pushed to her feet and pulled the Windbreaker closed over her bare breasts.
“What is it?” she asked.
He gave her a questioning look.
“The something urgent?”
“Don’t know,” he said. “The signal dropped. He’s meeting us in town, so we’ll find out soon enough.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“It’s a great idea. He can drive us back to the rental car with a jug of gas.”
“Trusting him, I mean. How do you know he won’t turn you in?”
“This is Derek we’re talking about. He’d jump on a grenade for me.”
Kelsey shook her head.
“What, you don’t believe me?”
“I don’t get this whole brotherhood thing you guys have together. And anyway, it doesn’t apply to me. What if he turns me in?”
“No one’s turning anyone in. At least no one I know.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Gage gave her a hard look. He picked up the holster and belt he’d shed last night, and Kelsey remembered straddling his lap, unfastening it.
“You’ve been spending a lot of time on the phone with Ben,” he said.
“Ben’s helping me. If it weren’t for him, we’d never have tracked down Charles Weber.”
“And look how that turned out.”
“What’s that mean?”
He shrugged. “Nothing.”
“Bullshit. You have something to say about my friends, say it.”
“Fine. I don’t trust a lot of people right now besi
des you and Derek. Ben, Mia, all your lab rat friends aren’t high on my list. How do we know they won’t hand us over to the feds?”
“You know Mia! I can’t believe you’d even say that.”
He picked up the SIG that was sitting on the rock near where they’d slept. Kelsey noticed the condom wrapper beside it. Gage picked it up, too, and slipped it in his pocket.
“She’s engaged to that cop, right?” he asked.
“So?”
“The one whose brother’s an FBI agent.”
She gazed up at him. Her stomach knotted as she realized what he was suggesting.
“We can trust Mia. And Ben.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“And I hope you’re right about Derek.”
“I’d bet my life on it,” he said.
“I think you already have.”
They looked at each other for a long moment. He stepped closer, and all the memories of last night flooded back. He slid his hand into her hair. When she didn’t say anything, a spark of heat came into his eyes.
“What?” she asked.
“Want to go for round two?”
“No more rounds. I told you last night, that was a one-off.”
He gave her a get real look.
“It doesn’t change anything.”
He dropped his hand and looked down at her. “Why are you so dead set against giving us another chance?”
“Because.”
He lifted his eyebrows.
“I have no interest in going there again.”
“Would it help if I told you I’m sorry about September? I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings and I apologize.”
“Apology accepted.”
“But you don’t believe me.”
“I totally believe you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I do,” she said. “But it’s not just about September. It’s about us being different people. I’ve realized a lot of things about myself this year, and there’s nothing you could say or do to convince me it makes sense to go down this path again.” She folded her arms over her chest. “Why are you smiling?”
“That sounds like a challenge.”
“It’s not. It’s a statement of fact.”