by Rachel Lee
“What?” he asked, looking up before attending to his own problem.
“Is there any graceful way to do this?” she asked.
“Yeah. Robes. Negligees. Nudity.” But a smile creased his face as he sat beside her on the bed and fought his way out of his work boots and all the rest. He even remembered to grab a condom and roll it on. “Kind of a punctuation mark.”
But then she stole his breath by reaching out to close her hand around his erection. “Dory...” Her name escaped him on a choked breath.
“You’re a beautiful hunk,” she murmured, her own breath beginning to come rapidly. “Can we...”
“Anything,” he promised, caught in a consuming fire.
“Hurry,” she gasped. “Rerun later.”
He couldn’t pass that up. All the finesse he’d been planning ceased to matter as the firestorm took over. As soon as she lay back, he slid over her, her delicious curves melding with his angles in all the best ways possible.
For an instant he couldn’t even move because it felt so good. Catching her face between his hands, he looked down into her blue eyes. Botticelli angel. His for now.
Then he slid himself into her, feeling her rise up to meet him. Her legs twined around his hips, holding him as close as she could, and her body arched in response to his every thrust.
Almost too soon, she stiffened and cried out, a shudder running through her from head to foot. He couldn’t contain himself another minute and joined her, erupting into her as if he were turning inside out.
When he collapsed on her, her hands settled lightly on his shoulders. A welcome. The most beautiful welcome of all.
* * *
GEORGE FINALLY HITCHED a long ride on a big rig headed in the right direction. This one had pulled up alongside him as he’d been walking down the shoulder in the dark, unwilling to risk sticking his thumb out for fear the law would take an interest.
But this guy seemed bored with his long haul and wanted someone to chat with. The radio was unusually quiet. Well, George was a good talker, able to readily make up entertaining tales, and it was a small price to pay for getting to the truck stop just outside Conard City.
He cast himself in the role of a down-on-his-luck bartender who was heading home to see his sick mother. That one always brought sympathy his way. But he didn’t linger over those details, instead coming up with amusing stories about things he’d supposedly experienced while tending bar. Soon enough, the driver was chuckling, and with the laughter the guy decided he liked George. George knew how to read people, and this one was in his pocket. Now he was assured the guy wouldn’t drop him off at a crossroads in the middle of nowhere.
Eventually the driver asked him about being out of work. “I thought a bartender could always get a job.”
“I will eventually, after I look in on my mother. But I was stupid, man. This woman looked thirty years old at least, and I served her without asking for ID. Bitch got me canned because she was working for the state. Trying to catch ordinary joes like me.”
“That stinks,” the truck driver said.
“Ah, my fault,” George said. “It’s getting harder and harder to tell how old a person is by looking. Always check the ID.”
The driver snorted. “She must have been pretty.”
George laughed. “Believe it. But I was still stupid.”
“I make it a rule never to pick up riders,” the driver remarked. “But I picked you up. I figured, what’s the harm? I dumped my load in Omaha, couldn’t find a return load anywhere, so I’m driving an empty trailer and burning gas. I ain’t got nothin’ to steal.”
“What about your truck?” George asked.
“Not likely. This baby is old. She keeps going because I hold her together. Besides, she’s got LoJack. I don’t get home on time, my wife will be calling the cops.”
“Tight rein, huh?” George asked. “No time for a little fun on the road?”
The driver laughed again. “Not for me.”
Satisfied he had the driver exactly where he wanted him, George began to consider his plans for the days ahead. This guy would leave him at the truck stop, but he had no idea where Dory was in relation to that. She might have settled into a log cabin in the middle of nowhere.
Naw, probably not, he decided. He gathered from what little he knew of her work that she must need a great internet connection. Those generally didn’t reach isolated cabins.
So she’d be somewhere in or near one of the towns. There were a bunch of really small ones, then the big one where he’d be dropped off.
He rubbed his chin, feeling the beard he’d begun growing almost as soon as he’d been freed. Right now he didn’t look a whole lot like himself, which was exactly what he wanted. The gray streaks in it helped, too, making him look a lot older.
But this town he was going to wasn’t that big. It might be best to lie low as much as possible. Maybe people minded their own business, and maybe they didn’t. He couldn’t risk the latter, couldn’t risk people commenting on a stranger who didn’t have a job and didn’t seem to be passing through. The last thing he wanted was anyone’s attention.
The truck stop would probably be a reasonably safe place to hang on and off, with a constant turnover of clientele. But apart from that?
He needed to keep low.
Which multiplied the problem of locating Dory.
Around five in the morning, he gave up his comfortable ride with the trucker, asking to be let out in a larger town, away from his destination. A town that would give him the freedom to plan and the tools he might need.
And that sign about Rodeo Days meant there’d be a lot of strangers around. Good. Not a soul would notice him unless he wanted it.
He waved goodbye to the trucker as he stood beside the road. He’d long ago learned not to do anything that might make someone remember him, so he was always polite and friendly but not too much so.
Smiling, he started to whistle. He was on his way, getting it together.
* * *
LIMP WITH PLEASURE and fatigue, Dory could hardly move. She lay on the bed waiting for Cadell to return and felt Flash lick her hand. The air was filled with the musky aroma of their lovemaking, delicious to her.
“Down,” she said, barely able to muster the energy for that one word. She had forgotten that she could feel so good, so sated, so complete...if she ever had before. She felt the corners of her mouth curve, as if she couldn’t stop smiling. Heck, her whole body was smiling.
She just hoped her impatience hadn’t turned off Cadell. Well, she didn’t know how to be a lady. She was a woman, and nothing in her life had made her feel she needed to take a backseat, although she’d learned online that there were plenty of men out there who wanted just that. Hence her secrecy about her identity.
Well, that and George. She knew he was coming. She could feel it. Somehow she would have to face him down, get him to move on and leave her alone. Money. With him it had always been about money. She’d gladly give him her last dime if he’d move to another continent.
The bed dipped as Cadell returned. She was surprised she’d delved so deeply into her thoughts that she hadn’t heard him coming. The light was still dim, coming from the bathroom, but she could see he was smiling. She reached up a hand and cupped his cheek.
“I’m limp,” she told him.
His smile widened. “You’re not the only one. And we’re not done.”
Her heart leaped. “We’re not?”
“Oh, no. I hardly got to explore you. That needs a bit of correction.” He stretched out and propped his head on his hand, still smiling. “Close your eyes. Just feel.”
Excitement was already galloping through her veins, though just a minute ago she would have thought it impossible. She obliged, closing her eyes, nearly holding her breath in anticipa
tion.
First came the featherlight touch of his fingertips, tracing the shell of her ear, the line of her jaw. Passing sweetly over her lips until they parted and she drew a long, quivering breath. With each moment, every nerve in her body felt as if it were growing more sensitive.
Then his touch trailed lower, remaining light, offering no pressure. Across her shoulders, her collarbones, down to her fingertips and then back up the inside of her arm. Now a helpless shiver raced through her.
“Easy,” he murmured. “Just enjoy.”
Oh, man, was she enjoying. When he found her breasts at last, she bit her lip, hoping...and his fingertips moved on. She could have cried out.
He trailed his hand down, tracing the most fragile of ribbons across her midriff, then lower, making circles around her navel, moving side to side but taking ever so long to dip lower.
Just as she thought he would, his hand slipped down her thigh, stroking the outside first, then the inside, but coming no nearer to her most sensitive places.
He was driving her out of her mind with an impatient excitement like none she had ever known. Then her other leg, down the outside then up until he returned to her belly.
Now! Please, now! Her thoughts had turned into a stew of boiling need and even some fear that he might leave her like this, hungry but unsated. She felt as if she were vibrating from head to toe, like a stringed instrument that he was playing skillfully.
Oh, so skillfully.
Then, causing her to suck air between her teeth, his fingers slid downward and found her moist cleft. She could no longer hold still but arched upward against his touch, needing so much more.
For a little while, he indulged her, stroking her with gentle fingers, but then it stopped.
She couldn’t even open her eyes, she couldn’t stand it. “Cadell...”
“Easy.”
She felt him part her legs, felt him settle between them, then the most exquisite sensation in the world, almost painful in its intense pleasure. With his tongue, he drove her upward until she mindlessly dug her fingers into the sheets and hung on for dear life.
When at last she reached the pinnacle and shattered into a million flaming pieces, all that was left of her was woman, flying free among stars.
* * *
CADELL’S ARMS WRAPPED her in warmth and strength. He’d pulled the blanket up over them and held her close, close enough that she could feel his hard contours, the slightest movement as he breathed. The whisper of his breath on her hair. Her own arm lay over his waist, feeling more of his warmth, more of his skin.
The intimacy of the moment pierced her. She’d taken a couple of lovers before, never for more than a single night or two, but those experiences had been nothing like this. She’d walked away from both of them thinking she was really not missing much by avoiding men.
All that had changed in an earthquake named Cadell. The intimacy. The closeness. Again, the understanding floated through her. She had never felt this close to anyone, at least not since her childhood.
She should have run from it. Where had love and trust gotten her the last time? But she could not quell it. It filled her, altering her, changing her, and she didn’t want to fight it.
Come what may, she thought sleepily, she was going to be a different person. Maybe a better person. Now if only they could get rid of the threat.
Then, safe in the arms of a man who had taken it on himself to protect her, she drifted off into the happiest dreams she had enjoyed for years.
* * *
CADELL AWOKE FIRST in the morning. Slipping carefully out of bed, he pulled on his jeans and boots, then took Flash for a run in the backyard. When they came back in, he started a pot of coffee for himself and began looking for something to use to make a breakfast for the two of them.
After last night, he had the appetite of a lumberjack.
Then he paused, realization setting in almost hard enough to knock the wind from him. The woman who had warned him that she didn’t trust anyone had trusted him.
And not just last night. Little by little she’d been opening herself, sharing herself, talking about herself, her feelings, her thoughts. No longer was it all about George. No, it was sometimes about the changes in her, her personal growth.
She’d shared herself in so many ways over the last couple of weeks. Even announced she was thinking about meeting other people.
Dory had come a long way.
And so had he. He sat abruptly, waiting for the coffee, waiting for the changes inside him to settle. He’d tried to help a woman who had good reason to be afraid. He’d thought at the outset he’d give her the dog, maybe check up on her from time to time. Instead his days had steadily become more and more entwined with hers. Especially since the moment when she had shared her graphic of the murder with him. He’d looked into a small child’s heart and seen how it had affected the woman she’d become.
With that, all distance on his part had vanished. All thoughts of forever avoiding another debacle like Brenda went away. He’d crossed his own personal barriers with Dory, and he wasn’t at all sure he wanted to put them back in place.
What he did know was he wanted more than a one-night stand with her. Whether it grew into anything more than casual, only time could tell, but for the first time since Brenda, he was willing to give it a chance.
Besides, he was growing very fond of Dory. As she emerged from her shell, he saw more than a Botticelli angel who took his breath away. He saw a rose blossoming into fullness, no longer a cramped bud hiding in work and her computers. She was showing strength. Fortitude. Determination. She was no longer talking of running.
For his part, he felt truly alive in every way this morning. He kind of hoped the feeling would last.
He’d rediscovered the man he used to be. What could be wrong with that? It felt good.
Smiling, he went back to trying to devise a breakfast from the slim pickings in her fridge. He guessed he was going to have to be the cook as long as they stayed together.
“I thought I smelled coffee,” Dory said from the kitchen doorway. She wore a blue robe and slippers.
He looked over his shoulder and smiled at her. “It’s there if you want some. I hope you don’t mind, but I was looking through your fridge and cupboards trying to find something to make for breakfast.”
She arched a brow at him. “You don’t eat cereal?”
“Not often. Most of what you have in there is too sweet.”
A slow smile spread across her face. “Try it at 3:00 a.m. after working for ten hours. It’s the absolute greatest energizer.” She started to move past him, but he snagged her around her waist and drew her down onto his lap. At once she wrapped her arms around his neck.
He smiled into those blue, blue eyes of hers. “Good morning, darlin’.” Then he kissed her soundly, feeling his body stir in response. This, he thought dimly, was not likely to lead to breakfast.
He pulled his head back reluctantly, enjoying the way her eyes had closed, the way her mouth looked slightly swollen. Beautiful. “But this won’t feed us,” he said gruffly.
“Depends,” she answered pertly, her eyes opening. Then with a little laugh, she slid off his lap. “You’re too distracting. So no cereal, huh?”
Then she pulled a can of soup out of the cupboard. “Will you eat lunch for breakfast? Because I can make a mean grilled cheese sandwich, and with a little tomato soup, I think we can top the tanks.”
Why hadn’t he thought of that? Dang, was he getting too mired in his routine?
What made the breakfast wonderful, however, was the woman sitting across from him, smiling and chatting as if she hadn’t a care in the world.
He knew that wouldn’t last. It couldn’t.
“I need to go in to work for a couple of hours today,” he told her as he ate
his second sandwich. “But then, if you can spare the time, we can go out to my place. Doc Windwalker is bringing me a young dog he thinks might be perfect to train as a companion for a little autistic boy.”
“I thought you didn’t do that kind of thing.”
“I don’t do it often. I can call on help if I need it, but this has landed in my lap. The family can’t afford to go elsewhere, so...” He shrugged. “We’ll see what we can do.”
The smile she gave him then made him feel about ten feet tall.
* * *
BY THE TIME Dory showered, dressed and went to her computers, she found a raft of messages awaiting her. The team was discussing a potential new project and whether they could accomplish what the client wanted in the time allotted. Dory read the specs, such as they were, and the comments from the rest of the team. It was clear everyone wanted to do it, but it was going to be a huge challenge, something they’d never done before. Almost like going back to the very beginning of graphics design. It intrigued her, too, as she thought about it.
Then a private message popped up from Reggie.
Where you been?
Busy. Sorry. Life.
Yeah, I know about the whole life thing. Was getting worried because of your brother.
I’m fine. Pretty protected, too, by a trained guard dog. She didn’t want to mention Cadell. Not their business.
Well, good. But I needed to let you know something. We had a hack attempt from a library in Nebraska a few days ago. Our webmaster didn’t think a whole lot about it, just put it in his report. Anyway, I’m telling you because the hacker was trying to get into our personnel files. He failed, but...
Thanks, Dory typed back quickly, even as her heart slammed into high gear. How many days ago?
There was a pause and she could imagine Reggie switching to another file. Then came the answer.
Five days.
Five days was long enough to get here from Nebraska. Plenty long enough. All of a sudden the day didn’t seem as beautiful as it had just a few minutes ago.
Then another ping. Reggie typing more.