by D. D. Ayres
Noah gave her hand a gentle tug. It was all the invitation she needed. She climbed across the console, letting him pull her into his lap. He turned her so that her back was to his chest. His hands on her asked nothing, just offered the warmth and strength and protection of his body enfolding her.
They sat that way for several minutes before he spoke. His lips were against her ear, so he whispered. But his tone was matter-of-fact now, the pain gone to ground.
“The day of Andy’s six-week check-up, Jillian announced that she wanted a divorce. That’s when things got ugly. Even though she made no secret of the fact that she didn’t want to be a mother, she demanded a massive settlement in order to waive custody. Everything I had was the price of keeping Andy. I emptied my bank accounts, my retirement plans. Sold my house, my car, turned everything I could get my hands on into cash. It all went to her so she’d sign away her parental rights. Best money I ever spent.”
“Oh, Noah.” Carly leaned back into him, trying to hug him from the inside of his embrace. That’s why he lived with his parents. Why he was so protective of Andy. Why he was the last person on earth to opt out of life.
“There’s something else. I think I’d have handled the rest just fine with Andy. Folks divorce all the time. But about eleven months ago Jillian died of alcohol poisoning. She’d gone back to partying the way she had when we met. She mixed a bunch of pills and booze and went to bed. Never woke up. How do you tell your son his mother died like that?”
Carly reached back and touched his face. “I don’t know what to say.”
She felt his shoulders rise and fall. “I’ve been pissed as all get-out ever since. Mostly for Andy’s sake. Haven’t known how to get past it. Yet you don’t sound bitter at all about what you’ve been through. How do you do that?”
“I was angry at first. I felt betrayed by Arnaud. Then felt inadequate. Sometimes I berated myself for leaving him, knowing he was weak. Then I wondered if he’d encouraged me to leave. If I’d been his jailor, even if I didn’t realize it. I’d become restless, too.”
She listened for a few beats to Noah’s heart, pumping a slow even rhythm. He had the powerful gift of silence. It encouraged her to share her own long-withheld secret. “We were playing house. Pretending that we were okay. But it wasn’t real. Arnaud wanted that high more than he wanted me, and it killed him.”
Noah brushed his lips against her neck. “It wasn’t your call. Addiction is a nasty relentless disease. He and Jillian were casualties.”
Carly nestled back again him, noticing for the first time that night had fallen, the world around them grown dark and silent, but for the distant sounds of traffic on the highway behind them. Above them the sky was deep purple and salted with stars. Thankfully, it was too early for mosquitoes. Little flashes of lightning, too faint to be seen earlier, flickered on the northwestern horizon. The earlier winds had calmed, as if the air was holding its breath. Storm coming in? Seems like she’d heard something about the possibility.
She sat forward, feeling the cool rush as their bodies separated. “We should probably go back to town.”
“No.” His fingers closed over her shoulders. “We can’t leave like this.”
“No.” Carly agreed. “We shouldn’t.”
She was turning in his arms, sure at last of what she wanted.
This kiss was different. It was long and leisurely, thorough and arousing, soothing and flavored with the promise of even more pleasure to come. Shivers of anticipation shimmied through her as his hands moved leisurely over and then under her hoodie. He caressed her thoroughly, as if there was nothing waiting for them on the other side of these moments. No need to impatiently drag clothing aside. For eager fingers to hurriedly explore. They had … now.
When they pulled a little apart, she could see his face was flushed with desire and both their breaths came a little fast.
“Have you ever made love under the stars? In the back of a pickup?”
Carly laughed. “Here? Now?”
“Somewhere nearby. As soon as I can find a safe quiet place.”
“You’re serious?”
“You’ve never done it in a pickup truck.” He sounded surprised.
“With my parents having careers in foreign service, we moved a lot. Not many opportunities for moonlit trysts with cowboys.”
He gave her a look that singed her eyebrows. “You’re in for a treat, darlin’.”
He drove several miles down the road, then crossed railroad tracks into an open field. He parked and cut the lights. “Wait here.”
He jumped out and opened the door for Harley. “Go. Do your business,” she heard him say. Harley scrambled out into the tall grass and took off, quickly becoming a shadow that was swallowed up in the dark.
Noah jumped up in the back of the truck and unlocked his father’s toolbox. “Aha!” He pulled out a bedroll and knocked on the back window to get Carly’s attention. “Come on back. We’ve got everything we need.”
By the time Carly climbed out of the cab and walked back to the back, he had let the tailgate down and spread the unzipped bedroll on the truck bed. He hunkered down and offered her a hand. “I got a nice cozy place for us.”
Carly allowed herself to be pulled up beside him. He was grinning like a kid as he knelt beside her on the bedroll. “You okay with this?”
She smiled back, infected by his joy. “All that’s missing are a couple of longnecks.”
“We don’t need beer to kick off this party.” He touched her face, his fingers alighting along the crests of her cheekbones as his thumbs framed the corners of her mouth. She could barely see him in the dark, but it didn’t stop her knowing exactly what was on his mind. She could feel it in the tension of his fingertips.
“Do you know how beautiful you are? Really, just so damn pretty.”
She smiled and felt his thumbs slide over her lips. Instead of answering, she parted her lips and licked the tip of one thumb.
He hissed a breath that sent a sizzling heat surging through her body. God, he was in trouble. Deep trouble. And he was going deeper.
“Do that again.” His voice had gone all husky and dark.
She darted her tongue against first one and then the other of his thumbs and then she caught one in her teeth, tonguing the tip until she heard him murmur, “Damn, Carly. You got me sprung.”
Laughing lightly, she reached down. Sure enough, the bulge in his jeans was hard enough to drive nails. “I suppose we’re going to have to do something about that.”
“You could try that tongue trick on other parts.”
“There’s an idea.” She leaned forward and kissed him, intending it to be a quick preamble to the main event. Whatever salacious half-formed idea she’d be assembling disappeared in the wet warm pleasure of his mouth. Time for naughty thoughts later. Kissing Noah was too good a time to skimp over.
Somehow when the series of dizzying kisses ended, they were lying side by side. Her hoodie was open and her cami had been pushed up to expose her breasts. He dipped his head to lick one stiff peak. “Delicious,” he murmured.
She located that belt buckle for the second time and unhooked it. He sucked in a breath to make it easier for her to lower his zipper. She plunged her hands inside the open vee of denim and into his shorts, then circled her hand around to his rear. The fine hair on his ass tickled her palms, but she was on a mission. The firm hard curves of his masculine cheeks filled her hands as she pushed jeans and shorts down his hips to expose her prize. He lifted a little to help her, but as the fabric bunched at his thighs he said against her ear, “We might want to stay mostly intact. In case we need to make a quick getaway.
“Really?” Carly hadn’t thought a second past getting her hands on his johnson.
He laughed as he rolled her onto her back and moved over her. “We push clothing up and down but not off. Okay?”
Since she was holding the hot swollen object of her search in both hands, Carly could only smile in agreement. “What
about tongue tricks?”
He immediately rolled off her, bringing her over on top this time. She didn’t waste time with niceties. The thought that they might get interrupted, though there was not a sound in the night beyond Harley’s snuffling around in the dark, made her move with urgent intent. She half sat up and leaned over him, hands directing his erection at the best angle for her mouth.
She licked him once, twice, and a third time before he whispered, “Damn.”
Feeling every bit of pride at the power she held over him in that moment, she settled in for long sweeps of her tongue that left him wet and glistening.
His hand slid through her hair, fingers clutching her curls, holding her in place. “If I die here tonight, it’s your fault.”
She laughed and took him in her mouth, stretching to encompass as much of him as she could without choking. It didn’t last long. She felt him tensing, his hand flexing tighter and tighter in her hair until finally he was pulling her off. “Wait. Wait. I want…”
She knew exactly what he wanted. She wanted it, too. It was making her weak with need, and oh so hot she could barely think.
He eased her back into his arms, breathing harshly. “That was … wild.”
She smiled, tucking her head against his shoulder. “I never liked that much before. But with you…”
“Damn, Carly. Just when I think…” His arms tightened around her until she thought she wouldn’t be able to breathe. “That makes this night pretty damned perfect. Best ever.”
She smiled against the warm skin of his neck. “You haven’t come yet.”
“Oh, I will. Just—” He was sucking in air like it was about to be a scarce commodity. He needed just a little more control, just enough to make it all the way.
After a moment, he unbuttoned her jeans and shimmied them and her panties down her legs. And then his fingers were splayed over her lower belly, moving lower until they delved into her cleft. His touch was sure, certain, finding all the places, catching every possible rhythm of pleasure until she was shivering uncontrollably.
With deft moves, he put on a condom then rolled over and entered her. Not moving yet, he just staring at her with a secret smile. “You’re so wet.” His voice was hushed. “So smooth and silky.”
He pressed his forehead into her neck as his lips sucked her collarbone. She stuck her tongue into the shell of his ear. As she did so she felt his cock twitch within her and knew he would not lie still for long.
Still, she was curious. “Is it good for you?”
He chuckled, the vibrations tickling her neck. “You’re asking the man you’re holding between your sweet thighs the wrong question.”
“What’s the right question?”
“That would be, what’s your pleasure, darlin’? Fast? Or slow?” He bucked his hips into hers for emphasis.
Carly smiled. “As Tina Turner would say, first do it easy, then do it rough.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He shifted her head so that he could kiss her, long hard kisses that showed her just how he was about to work her lower down. He moved then, setting the pace in an easy muscular easing in and out of her body. Sensations quivered through her, setting off fireworks behind her closed lids as she held onto him for dear life.
Suddenly the pace changed. He came into her with hard quick urgency that would not allow her to catch her breath. She curled fingers on his rigid biceps and responded with her own body to the demand of his. When she came she arched against him, holding him inside as the waves of pleasure rippled along his shaft. His harsh breath was in her ear and then she could feel his body convulse as he climaxed deep within her.
Carly smiled at the sky and let a feeling of complete peace overtake her. A sliver of silver-white moon hung above his left shoulder. Over his right, she watched lightning run in rivulets of pink-white light through the shoulders of clouds boiling up on the horizon. A spring night in Texas. And it contained everything she’d remembered. The reasons she’d come home. Beauty. Suspense. Vast openness where dreams could run wild. And at the center, the held breath of anticipation for the storm ahead.
After a while Noah leaned in again, this time forehead to forehead and just held her as he whispered so softly Carly wondered if he meant only for himself to hear the words.
“I wish I’d met you first.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The storm rolled into Fort Worth just after nine p.m. Like a battalion breaking through enemy defenses, straight-line winds battered the city with fifty-to sixty-mile-per-hour gusts. Lightning ran horizontal zigzags through cloud canyons, silvering the underbellies of the deep purple sky monsters. Thunder rolled continuously, punctuated now and then by a sudden crack and boom that shook the walls of homes and businesses when a flash grounded nearby.
He almost missed the taxi pulling up before the apartment building. The first rain splattered against windows and windshield like miniature water balloons. Thick drops that fell individually quickly came faster and faster until they merged into a pounding waterfall, deluging streets and the parking lot in which he sat.
But there was no mistaking the shock of blonde curls emerging from the backseat. Long legs, pert ass—this he recognized. She ran quickly for the shelter of her apartment building, a large purse held over her head as she disappeared into the stairwell.
“Fuckin’ bitch.”
She’d gotten out somehow, away from his surveillance. All that while he’d sat in his vehicle drinking a Big Gulp and eating Hostess Ho Hos, waiting for Glover to show up, he was certain Carly Reese had been inside. Every reason to think so. Her car was in the parking lot when he arrived. So he’d assumed she was home, waiting for lover boy. Now he knew she hadn’t been home to lure Glover here. Perhaps had met him somewhere else.
Anger whip-snaked through him, searing him from the inside. Was Glover on to him?
He’d tailed Glover from the Speedway, certain he hadn’t been detected. Not even sure when he’d lost him on I-35W, he thought he’d simply missed seeing Glover exit. So he’d rounded back, weaving in and out of neighborhoods for an hour until finally he thought it was safe to roll past Glover’s house.
Sure enough, the prick arrived with that flea-bit hound he called an explosives K9. So he’d hung back, waiting half an hour until Glover reentered his truck and drove two blocks away before gunning his own vehicle and headed out. No need to follow the bastard. He knew he was headed for Carly’s place. How did he know? Glover had changed clothes.
“Damn straight, I’d make a great detective.”
Once he made the FWFD, he planned to work his way up to arson investigator in no time. He still had time. By then Glover would be an embarrassing footnote with the FWFD.
But the prick never showed.
The rain suddenly stopped, as if shut off at the tap. Thunder rumbled louder, guttural and predatory. And then hail began to fall. Tiny pellets of ice at first, tap-dancing their way down the street, the sound ominous for those with experience of Texas spring storms. And then the pattern changed. Stones the size of marbles began to hammer down, bouncing like popping corn off every surface.
“Fuck it.”
He turned on his engine, swearing up a blue steak. Darlene would clobber him if her car turned up pitted by hail when he was supposed to be in Austin on business. Of course, Austin had hailstorms too. But it would be just his luck they weren’t having one tonight.
In the distance sirens sluggishly came to life, sounding like disturbed sleepers prodded to crank up to full volume. He knew what that meant. Tornados.
He rolled down a window, uncaring that he was instantly drenched, and swung his head in one direction and then the other, trying to spot the telltale swirl of a twister in the darkness. But a low wall of cloud had swooped in, obscuring the brilliant lightning and the tops of nearby downtown buildings just as residents would be desperate to spot disaster spinning down from overhead.
He drew in his head and rolled up the window, cursing God and every living thing as
he wiped his face on a sleeve.
His heart beat to the heavy rhythm of unfairness, pumping up grievance after grievance until he could barely breathe.
He’d wasted three hours, certain he’d corner Glover.
He slammed his hand against the steering wheel, uncaring for the pain it caused. He needed release. Revenge.
Glover had slipped past him again. He didn’t know what to do next.
As long as Glover was free, he needed to know what the bastard was doing, who he suspected, who he watched.
“Why the fuck couldn’t the police department do their job?” He’d all but drawn them a map with a big X over Glover’s face as the arsonist no one had caught.
Looked like he was going to have to be more graphic. He still had a couple of tricks up his sleeve, like the WeMo in the backseat. That asshole Glover used fingerprint ID on his phone. Once Glover had passed out, he used the bastard’s right thumb to open the phone, set up the WeMo account, and send the suicide note.
He grinned as he remembered his own cleverness. He was still in charge. Hell yeah.
He shoved the car into gear and put his foot on the gas.
As he turned out of the parking lot on Vickery, the hail intensified, filling the rain-drenched streets with a fine layer of ice. Even the grass on the curb was disappearing under the onslaught. Not that he gave a crap about the weather. If Glover wasn’t with Carly, he might be back home by now. Storms put every first responder in the area on high alert. Glover would want to be near his gear.
He switched on his scanner, eager to hear about a fire, any fire.
But first he was going to pay Glover a little visit.
* * *
Across town four policemen and Inspector Merle Durvan were serving a warrant at the home of Shiloh Glover, also listed as the official residence of Noah Eastland Glover. A crap time for a search, but the law didn’t stand on ceremony when homicide was involved. And they were well within the 6 a.m. to 10 p.m. search time.
After finding no one at home, Merle had waited for an hour, enough time for the weather to turn ugly and his men to be drenched. But he didn’t want a mistake to invalidate a good search and retrieval.