Edge of the Heat 5

by Lisa Ladew

  He nodded, seeing it. Understanding it. “You can’t save them all baby. You know that right? You could work 20 hours each day for the rest of your life, and still not save them all. That’s for God to do. Or destiny. Or I don’t know. I don’t know why anyone suffers in our world, most of all why children suffer, but I do know it’s not for one person to fix. Maybe there isn’t a fix right now. Maybe there never will be.”

  Sara sagged against him, her shame drained from her body. He knew it all now. There were no more secrets. And he was still touching her. Still talking sweetly to her. Could he still love her? She searched his face frantically, wanting to know. He smiled at her and brushed her hair back from her forehead. His touch spoke volumes.

  Sara looked around his body at the desert stretching for miles around them. Her sharp eyes picked out animals here and there. A snake, a rabbit, something smaller rustling in the scrub brush. But nothing else. No men. No dogs. No helicopters. They were safe for at least a little while.

  She pulled him to their bed of jackets and shade. “Jerry, will you make love to me like a boyfriend? Show me what I’ve been missing?” Jerry’s hand squeezed hers and she knew he would.

  Chapter 27

  “Jerry, will you make love to me like a boyfriend? Show me what I’ve been missing?” Jerry’s heart leapt at the words. His body throbbed and called out to her; he stiffened instantly, his jeans an uncomfortable prison. No matter. This was all about Sara, not him.

  He squeezed her hand, then stopped her. “Are we safe right now?” She nodded. “As safe as we can be.”

  He kissed her, putting all the force of his longing behind it. “Then I will love you the very best I can.” He pulled her hair back gently, baring her neck for kissing. She moaned slightly and trembled in his arms.

  He lowered her smoothly to the small nest of shade she had made and covered her body with his. A thought struck him.

  “Sara,” he said, moving up to look her in the face. “Have you ever…?” He stopped for a beat, his voice trailing off. He laughed at himself slightly. Was he 12? “Have you ever orgasmed?”

  She nodded, then her eyes flew wide at the admission. She squeezed her eyes shut, blocking him out, and her face colored a bright crimson. “By myself,” she whispered.

  Heat forced a wide hot spot from his chest to his groin at an inner image of Sara pleasuring herself, head thrown back, eyes closed, cheeks red with satisfaction. He hoped he could put her solo orgasms to shame. He wanted to make her explode.

  Jerry had an immense amount of confidence in Sara’s ability to get them out of this mess alive, but just in case this would be his last time, and his only time with Sara, he was going to make every bit of it count. He kissed her again softly, but as she responded, meeting his tongue with her own and running her hands over his back, his hips, his ass, clumsily trying to pull his bulk on top of her, his kiss deepened, almost roughly. Their lips mashed together in passion. Sara ground her hips into him, driving him to the very edge of insanity. His body shook with the need to have her naked, to feel her soft skin rub against his.

  Jerry moved to Sara’s neck and trailed kisses to her chest. He pulled at her shirt and immediately her hands came up and whipped it over her head. Jerry stopped long enough to take his own shirt off before taking her in. He sighed at her loveliness. She was wearing a white, lace bra, just lacy enough to tease him with the hazy sight of her small, firm breasts. Her brown skin contrasted with the white lace deliciously. He dropped his mouth to her breasts and sucked her nipples through the lace, enjoying her mewling responses of pleasure under his mouth and hands. His left hand skimmed her perfectly feminine belly, and tucked lightly into her jeans. More lace greeted him at her underwear and his brain burned with the question of whether they were white also. Her hands were tugging at his head, pulling them down, urging his mouth harder onto her breasts. He took one of her hands and placed it on the button of her jeans. She understood and unbuttoned them, swiftly kicking them down around her ankles, and then off altogether. Her underwear was white also. White, lacy, and barely there. Jerry thought he’d never seen anything as beautiful as the white lace against her olive skin.

  His hands brushed a knot of scar tissue on her hip. “What’s this?” he asked, his voice husky with his own want. “Stab wound,” she said, pulling his face back to her breasts. Jerry ran his thumb over the scar lightly, wondering how long it would take him to uncover all of her deadly secrets. He put the thought away and reached for her bra clasp, undoing it and pulling the bra away. He’d been wrong before. This new vision: Sara in her little scrap of white lace underwear and nothing else was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. “You’re an angel,” he breathed. “So beautiful.” She smiled with her eyes closed, and tried to catch his shoulders.

  He bent his head to her breasts again. Her perfectly shaped, perfectly colored breasts with their perfect nipples. He caught one between his teeth just to see how she would respond. She arched her back and sighed her approval, pushing her hips into him.

  ***

  Sara writhed under Jerry, feeling her breasts and between her legs throb in unison. His every touch burned her and sent tingles through her body till she thought she couldn’t stand it for one more second. His mouth and tongue on her nipples, sucking, licking, tasting made her body vibrate like a piano wire. She’d never known desire like this. Never known heat like this. It was more than the dry, desert air pressing at her almost-naked body. It was a heat from inside, building like she’d never felt before. Building and joining with him.

  She ran her fingers over his stubbled cheeks, enjoying the rough sensations against her skin. Her hands moved of their own accord, finally getting to touch every inch of his body. His back muscles worked under her hands and she squeezed them, pulling him down harder onto her. She couldn’t get enough of this feeling, wanting to live in the desert with him forever, if it meant she could just touch him like this.

  The heat inside her began to coalesce, building, ebbing, receding, and flowing from her lower belly to between her legs. Jerry pulled back. She opened her eyes and looked at him. The fever she saw in his eyes as he looked at her body drove her to an edge she didn’t know she had. A small noise of desire bubbled from her throat and she pulled at him, wanting him on top of her again.

  He kissed her bare breasts once more, working his fingers over her underwear. She could feel her own wetness against her skin. His fingers worked expertly, finding that exquisite collection of nerves at the top of her sex, but not concentrating solely on it. At each light, brushing touch she gasped. She didn’t know if she could take it, the hot mouth and the skillful fingers. She wanted him inside her like mad, but she didn’t want him to stop for a second.

  She felt the heat building inside her like a crescendo and she moaned in pure wanting. She was coming and she knew it was going to knock her flat. The force of her orgasm plowed into her like an explosion. It flared, brighter than the sun. She screamed into her hands, trying to stay quiet, but not fully able to help herself. The waves of extreme pleasure rocked her and each time she screamed a little softer, until the noise coming from her throat was just a puff of air. Her body slackened with her release and she dropped her hands, feeling the ground underneath her for the first time.

  Sara opened her eyes to Jerry. He was smiling at her, a look she couldn’t quite decipher. “Whoops!” she said, smiling back.

  He laughed. “Whoops! Didn’t mean to do that.” He kissed her mouth, then whispered in her ear, “I did mean it, and I’m going to do it again.”

  Sara’s heartbeat quickened and she felt desire return quickly. Could she take it again? Could her body do it again? That had been the most intense orgasm of her life.

  “Jerry, I want to know what an orgasm feels like with you inside me,” she blurted out without thinking. Her body was in control now, and it didn’t care if her brain got embarrassed or not.

  Jerry tipped an imaginary hat at her. “Yes ma’am.” He unbuttoned his jeans
and pushed them down. Entranced, Sara pushed up on her elbow, wanting to see everything. His cock strained at his blue boxers. Her hand reached out on it’s own and grasped him through the fabric. He felt heavy, thick, and hot under her fingers. She squeezed, wondering how it could possibly be so hard.

  Jerry sucked in a breath and leaned his head back, thrusting in to her touch. Sara reached under the fabric and exposed him to the desert air. Her eyes devoured him. He was so thick, so perfectly masculine, so very hard and ready. She ran her fingers over the silky smooth head, enjoying his shudders and noises. This was what he had done to her.

  Her desire for him suddenly spiked, a huge formless need that consumed her totally. She’d never looked at a man this way, with this aching greediness for everything he had to give. Sara pushed Jerry on his back, and climbed on top of him, the boulders framing them on each side. Jerry’s eyes opened, watching her with their own craving. She grasped his cock in her hand and guided it into her center, gasping as it penetrated her. She felt stretched, split nearly in two, and yet the satisfaction was colossal. This was right. This was how it was supposed to be. This was what these parts were designed for. He fit inside her like a glove. She moved over the top of him and marveled at how right it all felt. His chest rumbled with approval as she moved herself down his length, slowly, almost teasingly.

  Her inner muscles clenched around him, claiming him. He locked eyes with her and grasped her hips, pulling her forward, then back. The intimacy of his gaze nearly leveled her, but she held it anyway. She wanted this. She asked him for it and she was going to drink in every last drop.

  They found a rhythm together, a sweet rhythm of strokes and thrusts. He moved his thumb to her clitoris and pressed and held, doubling the pleasure she felt inside. It built and receded, advanced then waned. The earth, the world, the desert shrunk for Sara. All that existed was here on this hard-packed ground. She wanted the moment to go on for eternity. She wanted it to shatter into infinity. “Yes Jerry,” she called softly. He picked up his pace as if she had spurred him on.

  Jerry urged her on with his eyes. She felt the minute grow and expand. She felt her womb contract with an impeccable slowness. The influx of sensation caused her to throw back her head and bite her lip against the moan building in her throat. Jerry’s hand tightened on her hip and his buttocks contracted underneath her. She lost herself in her own intense peak of building pleasure until it could build no more. The wave crested and broke and she rode it with something like sadness, already pining for more but knowing this was probably the only time she would ever have with Jerry. Sweet Jerry, her prince. She collapsed down on him, her muscles like jelly. He murmured something in her ear but she didn’t understand it. She didn’t ask him to repeat it. She was scared it was something that would stir up her sadness and drown her in it.

  Chapter 28

  Sara fought hard not to drop off to sleep with Jerry. The two of them didn’t quite fit side by side under the boulders and the tarp, but they made it work. Jerry had wanted her to stay with him so she did, but falling asleep with him could be a deadly mistake. He’d drifted off quickly, exhaustion setting in as soon as their passion burned down to a low flame. Now Sara just needed to wriggle out of their nest.

  She got to her feet without waking him and walked the ridge line. Everything was still calm and clear. No signs of life or movement except the occasional wildlife. Sara checked on their solar water stills. The water was not collecting as fast as she had hoped. She washed up again and drank the rest of the water in one of their bottles, then set to work digging another hole.

  As she dug, she replayed what had just happened. Had it been a colossal mistake? Sleeping with Jerry? She knew he liked her - loved her actually. She wondered if he saw them living happily ever after together. She hadn’t finished telling him her tale, but when she did, he’d see that it just couldn’t work. They would never be able to be together.

  Unless… Sara stopped working and thought wildly, studying Jerry’s sleeping frame. She saw his bare feet were in the sun and she absentmindedly adjusted the tarp until the shade covered them. What if they took off? Just left the country? Lived in Brazil or even Bulgaria or somewhere just as obscure? Would he go?

  Did he even have a choice? Miss-All-Business reminded her that he wasn’t going to be able to just return to his normal life now. Thorpe knew who he was. Thorpe knew he had escaped with her. If he tried to go home Thorpe would grab him for sure. Sara sat on the ground and put her head in her hands. He had no idea that his life as he knew it was over. Friends - gone. Job - gone. House - he could never go back. And it was all because of her. All her fault.

  The pain rose inside her and threatened to consume her. Sara mounted her defenses quickly and did what worked the best for her. She stopped thinking and just acted. She finished her third hole, then dug another. She ran out of water bottles to use so she went back to the first hole and made it bigger, stretching it to the very edges of the plastic. She ventured farther and farther out gathering plants to put inside the hole. By the time she was done she was swaying on her feet, she was so tired. She checked the sun. Time to wake Jerry.

  Jerry murmured sleepily as she shook him gently. His eyes opened and when he saw her a bright smile lit up his face, like they were in a fancy hotel room and not out sleeping on the dusty ground under a dirty tarp. Sara couldn’t help but smile back. He looked so incredibly happy to see her. He sat up and took her in his arms. Sara stiffened immediately and Jerry pulled back. “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “I’m just tired,” she lied.

  Jerry stood up quickly. “Lie down. Go to sleep.” He fussed over her for a minute, then looked around. “How do I know when to wake you?”

  She sat up and pointed out a large cactus 2 miles away that she had pinpointed earlier. “When you are standing there and the sun is directly over that cactus, wake me.”

  She laid back down and closed her eyes. She fell asleep within seconds, her body forcing her mind to shut down.

  ***

  Jerry watched Sara settle into sleep with a lover’s eye. Her tall, athletic body rhythmically relaxing completely with small finger jerks and muscle twitches. Her thick waterfall of hair cascading down her back and over her shoulders. He wanted to touch it. But he wouldn’t wake her for the world. So he walked away. He walked along the ridge line, and surveyed the desert. Nothing moving for hundreds of miles in any direction. The air sat still and hot all around him. He remembered what Sara said: stay out of the sun. He found a rock large enough to throw some shade and sat next to it, relishing the 20 degree difference.

  He saw Sara had dug more holes. He wondered if he should dig some too. No, she would have said something. He could see the water droplets shimmering on the underside of the plastic stretched across the holes from here.

  He shook his head, marveling at the amazing things Sara knew how to do. A spy. A secret government agent. He wasn’t surprised at that for a second. He was surprised at the life she’d been forced into so far though. Her mom had it right when she threw that Thorpe guy out of the house. If only her mom had lived. She never would have done that first mission at such a young age, and maybe things would be different for her right now.

  Briefly, Jerry wondered if Thorpe had been a part of the death of Sara’s mother. He was sure Sara had considered it. Nothing got past her.

  A stinging well of hate for Thorpe began to grow inside Jerry. Thorpe was just another Norman Foster, but on a much bigger scale. Dirty, evil, devoid of all human conscience. Jerry wondered what Sara’s plan was to expose him so she could be free.

  In his mind, he saw exactly what Sara was afraid he would. He saw endless lazy Sunday afternoons where they didn’t leave bed until the sun was almost setting, where they snuggled on the couch and giggled at secret, lover’s jokes. He saw walks on the beach and shared meals. He saw smiles and laughter and holding hands and a good life. In his most guarded heart he wondered if Sara would want to have children. He saw babies
with thick brown hair and deep brown or blue eyes who grew up knowing many languages but never having to kill anyone.

  Jerry’s three hours passed in what seemed like an instant while his mind was far away. The sun rose above the cactus. Jerry watched Sara sleep and didn’t have the heart to wake her. She hadn’t moved an inch from her original position. Finally, after the sun was well past his marking point, and he felt his own body betraying him, pulling him down to sleep against his will, he touched her shoulder.

  Her eyes opened immediately, with no sleepiness caught in them. Sara knew from the light and shadows that he had let her sleep longer than three hours. Probably more like 5. Probably enough for her for today. She smiled thinly at his tired face and sat up. “Get some sleep. We move on when you wake up.”

  Jerry was too tired to argue. His sleep passed even more quickly than his time spent on lookout, and in what seemed like an instant Sara was shaking him. “Get up Jerry, it’s time to eat and move on. I want to go a minimum of 20 miles tonight.”

  Jerry sat up and looked around. The sun was setting, an orange fireball to the West. The fiery light made Sara’s expression look fierce and untamed. He tried to catch her eye, but could tell something had changed since their stolen moments of passion.

  He had loved her as best he could, but she had shut him out again.

  Chapter 29

  Sara had packed all of their gear while he slept. She had retrieved the water bottles and filled in the holes, scattering rocks over them so, at a glance, it didn’t look like they had been there. She had set out some canned food and some water for Jerry. When he saw it his stomach lurched hungrily. He was ravenous.

  He ate, trying desperately to think of what to say or do to bring back the soft, vulnerable Sara. The one that had raked her fingernails up and down his back and called out his name in a way that set him on fire. In the end he kept quiet. Fear that she would overtly reject him burned him inside. He didn’t know if he could take it. So he filled his mouth with food and kept his thoughts to himself. He would wait and see.