by Abby Niles
She sprinted past the two men, diving into the ditch a few feet away from the SUV, which was dangerous in and of itself. Lying flat, she covered her head. She felt movement around her, then a large body covered her, pressing her farther down. Strong arms wrapped around her head. Mac. His breath warmed her cheek as he shielded his own face against her.
The rumble grew louder as the wind became fiercer. From the drop in pressure, her ears popped. Debris swished by. One second the sound grew deafening and then it became fainter and fainter. And suddenly they were being deluged with rain and hail again.
Everything had happened in less than a minute.
Mac eased off her and collapsed back on the ground on his butt. Rain water sluiced off his nose and chin as he stared straight ahead, breathing heavily. He didn’t seem to feel the hail pelting his body.
She pushed up on her knees and reached out a hesitant hand, wanting to touch him but unsure if she should. “Are you okay?”
His gaze flicking to hers briefly before returning straight ahead, he gave a short nod. She glanced around and saw Rick, pushing up, soaked and muddy, but fine. Thank God.
Uncertain what to say to the man sitting unmoving in the driving rain, she rose and went to see if the SUV had been damaged. The vehicle was still stuck in the mud, of course. Thankfully, the antennas and Doppler were still intact. Which meant the tornado hadn’t been very strong and had most likely just sideswiped them. Man, talk about a close call with major luck thrown in.
She reached inside and tugged the microphone for the CB. Thank God it still worked. She put out a call for help, then rubbed her mouth and glanced over at Mac again. He hadn’t moved out of the muddy ditch, though he was on his feet now. The rain had lessened considerably and the hail had stopped, but he still looked like he was being shelled by the storm. A haunted gleam had hollowed his eyes. Deep lines of pensiveness grooved his face. He was standing only a few feet away, but he was not here.
A chasing crew pulled up and she refocused on getting the car freed. Within minutes, their Jeep had winched the SUV out of the mud. As they drove into town, soaked, muddy, and shaken, no one spoke.
In the six years of chasing, that was the closest encounter she’d had with a tornado. With the unpredictability of weather, she’d had close calls before, but nothing like this. She glanced into the backseat. Mac was staring out the window, just as distant as before. He hadn’t spoken a word since he’d asked why she was bleeding.
She had a sinking feeling that coming on this chase was not going to help him. She feared it was just going to make everything worse.
A low moan made Gayle’s eyes snap open and she sat up in bed. Mac was thrashing on the other bed, his sheets tangled around his legs. She shoved aside her covers and rushed to his side.
“Mac,” she whispered.
His body immediately calmed, and she breathed a sigh of relief. A quick glance at the clock showed it was a quarter after three. It had taken time for his unconscious mind to gather up the energy to torment him. They’d been in bed for hours.
After grabbing a pizza and getting the motel rooms, she’d just looked at Mac and said, “You’re staying in my room tonight.” There’d been no argument. He’d picked at his slice for a while, then excused himself and took a shower. Afterward, he’d gotten into bed. At a loss as to what to say or how to help, she’d taken a shower herself and done the same. Lights had been out by nine.
As she turned to crawl back into her bed, another soft moan sounded, followed quickly by another sorrow-filled No. His head turned on the pillow. Soon he would be calling out his wife’s name, and Gayle wasn’t sure she could listen to the agony in his voice again.
Climbing up on the mattress, she perched on her knees beside him. Tenderly brushing back his hair, she shushed soothingly. His brows furrowed as a groan filled the room. “No,” he murmured.
She leaned in closer. Keeping her voice calm, comforting. “Mac. Shhh. It’s okay.”
“Gayle!” that tortured voice whispered. “Please. No.”
Lungs locked, she sat up ramrod straight, staring down at him. She hadn’t heard him right. She couldn’t have heard him right.
“Gayle. Please.” And just as before, the plea was filled with such agonized beseeching it filled her own chest with pain.
But this time he was dreaming of her. No. It must only be because he’d heard her talking to him in his sleep.
“No!” Then he jackknifed up, chest heaving. Sweat coated his forehead as he stared straight ahead. She froze.
He slowly turned his head toward her. They came nose-to-nose, and she had the hardest time breathing.
“Thank God,” whispered past his lips. Then his hand snatched her around the neck, and his mouth crushed onto hers. Shocked, she gasped, bracing herself on his exposed biceps.
One second he was holding her head captive as he delved deep into her mouth, the next, her back was bouncing on the mattress where he’d tossed her down, his body covering hers. One masculine leg shoved between her knees as he kissed her aggressively. There was desperation in the way he moved, gripped her, thrust his tongue between her lips—as though making a determined effort to banish the demons from his mind.
It didn’t matter that his actions were spurred on by whatever horror he’d witnessed in his dreams, her body reacted the same. Her nipples tightened. and her clit throbbed to life. He worked his hand between their bodies and hooked his fingers in her panties, dragging them down her legs, his mouth moving furiously on hers.
She wanted him with a severity she couldn’t understand—but not like this. After the emotions wore off, he’d regret this, possibly be furious it happened. Ripping her mouth from his, she turned her head away and shoved at his chest. “Mac. We can’t. You’re not thinking clearly.”
“Shut up, Gayle. I’m clear.” As if to prove his point, he grabbed his wallet off the nightstand, opened it, pulled something out, then flipped it in front of her face to see.
A condom.
“Do you see how clear I am now?”
Okay, then. She nodded.
“Good.”
He yanked her panties off the rest of the way and moved fully between her legs. Lifting up, he stared down at her, and she saw how clear he actually was. The distant, haunted gleam from before was gone. Pensiveness gone. Those had been replaced with a feverish lust completely directed at her.
“I just had the most God-awful nightmare. And I need to be inside you. Hear your gasps. Hear your moans. Hear you coming.” He touched a finger to her. “And you’re already wet and ready. I need to feel your life, Gayle.”
He quickly ripped open the wrapper, sheathed himself, then thrust forward. At the sudden fullness, she arched, crying out. Embedded to the hilt, he closed his eyes and groaned. “That’s it. Make those noises for me. Let me hear you.”
He buried his head against her neck as he slowly withdrew and pushed back. He continued the steady pace, his harsh breath heating her skin. She let out small stuttered gasps and cradled the man in her arms and her body.
“Gayle, you feel so good.” His lips pressed into her shoulder, then a light nip of his teeth. He thrust a little harder, a little faster.
She wanted him deeper. Spreading her legs, she grabbed his ass in her palms and drove him forward. He pushed up on his hands, towering above her as he increased his pace.
Knowing he was watching her was an aphrodisiac. Closing her eyes, she relinquished all control and allowed the feelings he created inside her to tumble out into the open. Moans, gasps, muttered words of pleasure. She held nothing back. Didn’t quiet herself, didn’t care if she woke the entire motel, she gave him what he needed—by simply expressing what he truly did to her body. There was no falseness, no exaggeration. Just an uninhibited response. To him.
“So goddamn beautiful,” he said, his voice strained. “So fucking full of life.” Sliding his hand over her mound, he circled her clit. The sensations inside tripled. “I want to watch you come.”
With that explosive combination, she came fast—long and loud. He took a harsh breath and his steady pumping faltered. He braced his hands on the mattress as he thrust hard three more times, his body quaking, then he collapsed to his elbows with a sated groan.
Still breathing hard, she placed a kiss on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”
Gratitude—and something else she couldn’t quite name—warmed his eyes as he brushed her hair back. “I am now. I needed this. I needed you.”
He kissed her and shifted his body so she turned onto her side, then he spooned behind her. He wrapped an arm around her waist, and she stroked his forearm. Wow. She’d had sex before. Thought she’d understood what it was just to kick back and enjoy the act. The first time she’d been with Mac, she realized she’d held a part of herself back.
Tonight she’d set herself free.
And most likely free to have her heart crushed in the process.
Chapter Nine
From the moment he’d woken this morning to find Gayle already dressed in khaki shorts and a pale green tank top, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, sitting cross-legged on her bed tapping away on her laptop, Mac had noticed a new tension in her. No doubt it had to do with the unexpected turn of events last night. But after he’d woken from the nightmare to find her beside him, safe and alive, he couldn’t keep from reaching for her, much less stop what happened afterward. And he didn’t regret it. Not for a second.
The terror of yesterday’s events had catapulted him into the moment and with its stranglehold had kept him from sinking into the past. As she’d run past him screaming a tornado was coming, he had not been paralyzed with fear—instead he’d been pushed into action. Compelled to protect the woman he’d grown to care for.
Last night, for the first time, his nightmares hadn’t revolved around finding Ally, they’d been about losing Gayle. Definitely things he was going to have to think about…but one thing was clear, a corner had been turned.
As the day wore on and they drove the five hours north toward the intersecting borders of Oklahoma, Texas, and Arkansas, her shoulders had grown even more rigid. Once they made it over into Arkansas, they’d camped out in the parking lot of a truck stop for the last three hours. Gayle became obsessive over the laptop and her assortment of different radars and numbers. A few minutes ago, she and Rick had released a weather balloon into the air.
And that was when the mood in both of them had changed. As usual their technical speak went over Mac’s head. Something about separate things converging, cap levels eroding, and a bad feeling. But it was then he finally realized Gayle’s withdrawn attitude didn’t have anything to do with last night.
Something was brewing. Now.
Something horrible.
“Okay. Why the hell are we sticking around here?” he finally asked.
Everything about today was off. After the long, hurried drive to get here, they just sat on the hood of the SUV and watched the sky. No one talked. Every minute that crept by in the edgy quiet increased Mac’s damn stress. Two storm chasers not excited about the chase and having “bad feelings” was seriously fucked up.
Gayle studied him, almost as though trying to decide if she was going to let him in on the secret or not. Her shoulders slumped. Fuck. She’d decided to tell him. Now he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “We’re waiting, Mac.”
“On what?”
“The explosion.”
That sounded…bad. “Can you be a little more specific?”
She shifted on the hood until she was turned toward him. “About an hour ago, the Storm Prediction Center issued a PDS. Particularly Dangerous Situation. The SPC only issues a PDS when the elements are ripe for very severe weather or major tornado outbreaks.”
“How could it possibly be worse than yesterday? And yet, you guys have never been this tense before. Why?”
“These types of storms—” She inhaled. “Emerald Springs was a PDS.”
Mac reared back and his stomach twisted sickeningly.
“It might not happen,” she quickly added. “It all depends on how things play out. But, yeah, it could get a lot worse than yesterday. And if it does, we’re in the epicenter of where it’ll go down.”
“Shit,” he muttered, the hair actually standing up on the back of his neck.
As if she could read his thoughts, she said, “I’m sorry Mac.” Regret burned bright in her eyes. “But I can’t leave you behind. Not this time. And I can’t send you off. You’re safer with us.”
Not an hour later, cells started to light up the radar with reds, greens, and oranges. She took particular interest in one about eight miles south. “Let’s go,” she told Rick.
As they reached the darkened edge of the storm, the high tower looming above them made Mac swallow rising panic. For two days, he’d seen these clouds, watched them spawn tornadoes, but even he could see this one was different.
Lightning billowed within the darkened clouds, lighting them up from the inside.
“Storm is moving northeast. Two more cells forming toward the north. Stay with it, Rick.”
For thirty minutes they trailed the storm deeper into Arkansas. Mac stayed mute, refusing to disrupt Gayle’s concentration, especially with her continually muttering, “I don’t like this.”
The ominous feeling grew with each passing minute. A few seconds later, Gayle mumbled a vehement curse. “The cells are converging. We have a rotating core.”
“Fuck,” Rick muttered.
“What does that mean?”
She glanced back at him, her lips pressed tight. “Fucking huge, violent storm that’s trying to become even bigger by inviting more storms to the party.”
After she gave the NWS an update, she said, “We need to move in.”
Tornado warnings for the city of Makersville, Arkansas, started streaming out of the NOAA radio.
As she stared at the storm, she twisted her fingers together. Watching her distress tugged at his gut. He wanted to take her in his arms and tell her everything would be okay. But that wasn’t a promise he could make. Her worry did show him how much she cared about the safety of others.
Her eyes widened and she fumbled for the mic on the ham and started talking. Mac looked outside.
Not one, not two, but three tornadoes were on the ground.
“Holy fucking shit,” he muttered.
She released the mic’s button. Without looking away from the tornadoes, she said, “You know what to do.”
Mac wasn’t sure who she was talking to until Rick accelerated from the creeping pace they’d been keeping to breakneck speed. Away from the tornadoes.
Gayle brought the mic back to her mouth. “The vortices are converging into a single vortex.”
Say what? Mac twisted to stare out the back window. The three tornadoes were now one and it was growing. In little over a minute, it’d widened to what had to be the length of a football field. The one they’d seen the first day was a fucking baby in comparison.
“Why are we leaving?” Honestly, he’d rather keep the damn thing in sight.
“We have a very large wedge tornado on the ground headed northeast,” she said into the mic, but she was looking at him. “Less than ten miles outside of the town of Makersville, directly in the tornado’s path.” She glanced at Rick. “Fifteen minutes before it hits.”
Rick pushed the SUV faster.
“What’s going on?” Mac asked, confused. Weren’t they speeding away from it?
Neither one answered. Less than six minutes later, they raced into the town of five thousand people. Even though the warning sirens were blaring everywhere, and a large dark cloud towered behind the town, people were still milling about. It didn’t really surprise him. The sirens went off a lot this time of year—so often, they became easy to ignore. Gayle grabbed a megaphone he hadn’t seen before, rolled down her window, and eased her body out through it to perch on the sill.
“Take cover now. Monster tornado coming,” she repeated as Rick reduced h
is speed to a crawl and inched down the road, weaving around any traffic in the way. As they passed a police cruiser, she waved it down. The cop lowered his window and she quickly told him what was happening. He got on his megaphone and did the same, taking off in a different direction.
Mac wasn’t sure if it was the presence of a storm chaser vehicle or the crazy woman yelling at them, but folks started moving. People already driving on the roads started taking side streets to get out. As the SUV reached a less commercialized area, Gayle slipped back inside. “Get us out of here, Rick.”
He floored the gas and flew through town just as the tornado made impact on the other side. Rain pelted the windshield, quickly followed by golf ball sized hail and wind so strong it made visibility zero. Thunder boomed as crazy-intense lightning struck the ground.
“We’re in the core. Get us out!” Gayle whipped around to look out the back.
It was the fear in her eyes and her voice that terrified Mac the most.
“Put your seatbelt on,” he ordered. When she didn’t move, he yelled, “Now, goddamn it!”
As she fumbled with the belt, the glass in front of her went crack and shattered into a spider web of cubes as debris slammed into it. Screaming, she flinched away, flinging her arms up to protect her head. In one swift motion, he released his belt and lunged forward, covering her. Something else bounced off the broken windshield, and a deluge of water and hail assaulted his shoulders and back. He curled himself tighter around her.
Seconds later, the torrent ended abruptly.
Mac eased back, shaking off the sluicing water. Gayle lifted up.
Rick exhaled, his fingers white around the steering wheel. “We’re out.”
Mac sat in his seat, the quaking in his hand making it difficult to snap his seatbelt back on. The image of Gayle screaming and protecting her head was seared in his mind.
“Are you okay?” Gayle asked. “That hail was the size of canned hams.”
“Nothing worse than I’ve taken in the cage.” He tried for a smile at her joke, but by the doubtful once-over she gave him he knew he’d failed. In truth, his shoulders and back stung like hell. And if he hadn’t put himself in between Gayle and Mother Nature, it would’ve been her sweet curves taking the beating instead of his hard fighter’s body.