“I’m not falling for this,” Davy said.
“Am I close? Am I warm?”
“North Pole,” he said. “Outer space.”
She was undaunted. “OK, let’s try this again. Fleur was the rebellious daughter of an evil international arms dealer. She met you over the blackjack table in a sleazy nightclub in Tunisia, and—”
“Fleur was my ex-wife.”
Her mouth flapped helplessly. “You were married?” she squeaked. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why should I? It’s irrelevant. Not a happy subject, either. It lasted about three months. It happened over fourteen years ago.”
“What happened?”
He made a frustrated sound. “You never let up, do you?”
“It’s a terrible character defect,” she admitted. “Gomez said she was a dancer?”
“Yeah. In a strip joint near the Army base where I was stationed.”
She was startled. “Wow,” she said. “Was she, um, very beautiful?”
He shrugged. “Sure, she was pretty. She had a problem with pills that I found out about later. An even bigger problem with a violent ex-boyfriend. She left him because he beat on her. Glommed onto me for protection, and like a twenty-four-year-old brain-dead asshole, I fell for it. I doubt I would have married her otherwise. I wanted to save her, see.”
“Oh.” The ironic edge in his voice made her stomach tighten painfully. Tamara’s words floated into her mind. I expect he wants to rescue you. How adorable. It’ll probably get him killed…
“I figured once she felt safe and protected, the pill thing would resolve itself.” His short laugh was harsh and telling. “Uh-uh.”
“Is that why you guys broke up?” Margot asked.
“One day her ex paid me a visit, with six of his friends. I wound up in the hospital with tubes stuck up various orifices in my body.”
She dragged in a sharp breath. The thought of him being hurt so badly made her body recoil. “That’s awful. What did Fleur do?”
It took a long time for him to answer, as if he were searching for the right words. “She went back to him,” he said finally. “She filed for a divorce. She came to see me while I was in the hospital. She had bruises on her face and neck already. Begged me not to press charges against him for assault. Told me that he would hurt her if I did.”
She winced. “Oh, ouch,” she murmured. “And you let it go?”
“I was in traction, zonked on drugs. Yeah, I let it go. She’d already moved back to Florida with him by the time I got out of the hospital. I heard she died of an overdose a couple years later. I wasn’t surprised.”
She blew out a long, shaky breath. “Oh, Davy, I’m so sorry.”
Davy’s profile looked graven in stone as he stared out the windshield into the night. “So there it is, Margot. My terrible secret. I tried to save her, but I failed. You satisfied now?”
She sputtered in angry confusion. “You did not fail!” she burst out. “That weak, stupid cow! She should’ve conked the bastard over the head with a skillet for hurting you! The minute his back was turned!”
He looked perplexed. “That wasn’t her style. Fleur was—”
“I don’t give a damn what her style was!” she yelled. “It was her duty to protect you!”
He contemplated that. “Nah,” he said finally. “She was broken already. She didn’t have the strength. I don’t blame her.”
“Well, isn’t that admirable of you,” she said hotly. “I’m not as evolved as you, I guess. I say she was a big loser. She let you down.”
A painful thought struck her. Her face heated up. “Not that I’ve got much right to judge,” she added. “Gomez was right. I’ve already gotten you into way more trouble than Fleur ever—”
“Stop it.” His voice made her flinch. “You didn’t do this to me. Snakey did. Get it through your head. If you take it onto your conscience, you won’t think straight enough to solve the problem.”
“I shouldn’t have involved you.” Her voice was stubborn.
He grunted. “You tried to run.” He turned off the road, which had been a narrow, rutted, unpaved track for miles now, and plunged into a tight dark canyon of trees. “I stopped you, remember? Got my feelings hurt, laid a big guilt trip on you, carried on like a jerk.”
“True, but I—”
“I got myself into this by my own stupidity. And horniness.”
“Great. Gee, thanks, Davy. That’s real comforting,” she muttered.
The road twisted, switching back higher and higher as they climbed the hill until it opened into a clearing. The headlights revealed a forbidding, ramshackle house. Davy parked the truck, killed the lights.
The moon was very bright. Davy flung open his door. “Let’s go in,” he said. “I’ll feel better once we’re barricaded inside.”
She wobbled uncertainly in the gravel in her spike heels until Davy seized her arm and led her towards the house. He flicked on a penlight and went through a complicated series of locks, bolts and codes on the door before pushing it open. He preceded her inside.
She waited in pitch darkness until a match sputtered and flared.
Davy was lighting a kerosene lamp, the wavering flame casting a warm light over his face. They were in a big, roughly finished kitchen, paneled with raw planks. A trestle table and a large wood stove dominated the room. Davy left the lamp on the table and locked the door, keying a code into a blinking device on the wall.
“An electric alarm, but kerosene lamps?” she asked. “Strange.”
“None of us wanted electric light in the kitchen,” he said. “We’ve got electric lights and heat up in the bedrooms because we’re soft, lazy bastards, but it just didn’t feel right down here. Dad would spin in his grave if he saw us sucking on the electric tit of the evil establishment, so we left the kitchen pure in his memory. Except for the motion detector alarm. Even Dad would’ve gotten off on that little toy.”
“You McClouds are a very strange bunch,” she murmured.
A grim smile flashed across his face. “Yeah, we know. You want something from the kitchen, Margot? Water, coffee, a beer?”
“Nothing, thanks.”
“Let’s go upstairs, then,” he said. “I want out of this monkey suit.”
A loaded silence followed his words. Davy’s jaw tightened. “There’s plenty of beds, if you want to be alone,” he said. “You don’t have to—”
“I don’t want to be alone. That’s the last thing I want. I want you.”
He closed his eyes for a brief moment. “Good.”
He took her hand, and pulled her towards the staircase. She followed him without hesitation. She didn’t care how much this was going to hurt later. All that mattered was this hot ache of longing.
She wanted as much as she could get of him. She could face harsh reality another time. No need to chase after it right now.
Combat adrenaline always left him dangerously horny, and he’d been bad off to begin with, even before the fight. The combination was explosive. Davy ripped open the buttons on his shirt and wrenched the bow tie loose on his way up the stairs. Raul’s revelation blew his mind. Christ, the irony of it. A fugitive, after an entire adult lifetime of playing the tightass, keeping his nose clean, being respectful of law and order.
One thing was for sure. If he was ending up an outlaw, he was going to be pure burning hell as an outlaw. He would make the whole fucking world sorry for having shoved his back against the wall.
And he had to mellow out. Margot was already shy and quiet as she tiptoed up the stairs behind him. She was tough, but he didn’t want to scare her. Fuck her brains out all night long, yeah, but not scare her.
Margot lingered in the hall while he stopped in the bathroom to rinse the blood and dirt from his face and hands.
He grabbed her hand and led her to his bedroom, which was pretty much as he’d left it when he joined the Army at age twenty-one. He’d replaced the severe, military cot his father had mandated with a
decent double bed, but the coverlet was still an olive drab woolen army blanket, tattered around the hem. The concept of bedspreads had never occurred to him or his brothers, at least not until Connor had started bringing Erin up here. Now Connor’s bed boasted sheets with flowers embroidered around the borders, a pansy-assed colored quilt and a pile of superfluous pillows on top. Women.
He tossed the ruined jacket on the floor, kicked off his shoes and unfastened the shoulder holster, laying the gun on the bedside table. Shirt, cummerbund, bow tie, pants, all soon followed. In seconds he was naked, and standing at attention, as hard as steel, and Margot was still poised by the door as if contemplating escape.
His eyes dragged over every sexy curve. No escape for her tonight.
“That was bullshit, about letting you sleep alone,” he said. “You’d have to chain me to a tree to keep me away from you tonight.”
The seductive glow in her eyes deepened. “If I had you chained to a tree, Davy McCloud, I’d do more interesting things than sleep alone.”
“Oh, yeah? Like what?”
“Let’s see,” she murmured. “I’d start with a slow striptease. Right in front of you. Just out of reach of your chained hands.”
The heavy throb of blood in his groin deepened. “So far, so good.”
“Then…then I’d suck on your nipples,” she offered. “Run my fingertips over the surface of your skin with my magic feather. Half tickling, half petting. And when you’re struggling and pleading, I’d get down on my knees—and lick the tip of your, um—”
“My cock?” he supplied helpfully.
“Just barely,” she warned. “We’re talking torture here. Just a tender swirling lick, like I’m tasting a new flavor of ice cream.” Her voice shook slightly. “I’d tease that sensitive spot underneath the, um, head…and lick away the shiny drop that’s forming right in the slit at the—”
“Margot,” he said. “Get the dress off. Now.”
She backed away as he moved in on her. “Hey! Watch it. Don’t you dare hurt this dress, Davy McCloud. Not only is it the one nice dress I own, it’s also the only thing I have to put on my body.”
“Take it off.” He couldn’t control the rasp of menace in his voice.
She grabbed handfuls of the skirt and stared at him, wide-eyed. Every time he got too aggressive, she drew back and tightened up. He didn’t have the patience to coax her back, or the self-control to let her lead. But he didn’t dare screw this up. It would kill him to stop now.
He backed up until he felt the rough planking of the wall scrape his bare back. “Don’t worry,” he coaxed. “I’m chained to a tree, remember?” He held out his arms and splayed them against the planks. “Can’t move a muscle. Go on, have at me. Be cruel. Make me suffer.”
A nervous nod, and she shimmied the dress up. Wisps of hair clung to her face as she pulled the garment over her head. The slip hugged every swell and hollow of her body.
“Take it off,” he urged, his voice rough. “All of it.”
She licked her lips, tugged the straps down till they cleared the satin demi bra that propped up the cleavage that had taunted him all day. She unclasped it, baring those lush, soft tits that never failed to steal his breath. She worked the slip down over the swell of her hips, let it drop around her feet, kicked off the fragile high-heeled sandals.
She plucked out hairpins, undid the silver pin that was stuck through her hair, and shook out the thick, wild mass. It twirled every which way, all the crazier for having been confined all day. She moved closer, so he could smell the scent of her skin and hair, the hot, rich scent of her arousal. Her eyes dazzled him, fever bright with excitement.
“That first night, at my house, when you took off your shirt, I wanted to touch you like this so badly,” she said. “I ached for it.”
“Do it now,” he urged. “You’re killing me. Do it. Do anything.”
She pressed her warm, soft lips to the hollow at the base of his throat, cuddling closer so that his cock brushed against her belly. She shimmied closer, lodging the tip of his cock between her strong thighs, squeezing until he gasped. The skin of her thighs was so fine and soft, the puff of pubic hair between them barely tickling his cock.
Her fingers caressed him, murmuring her approval. She tilted her head lower and suckled his nipple as she pulsed her thighs around him. He flung back his head and sucked in a deep breath to keep the pleasure from spilling over into ejaculation.
Energy shot up his spine, exploding in his head like fireworks.
When he opened his eyes, she was gazing at him, puzzled.
“It felt like you just came.” She slid her hand down to investigate, tenderly caressing his cock. “Except that you didn’t. Apparently.”
“I sort of did,” he admitted. “I stopped right at the edge. I could do that all night, and never get tired. It’s just a trick of concentration.”
The wondering look in her eyes turned into a catlike, approving smile. “All night? Very cool. I like your sex tricks, Davy. Let’s see you do it again.” She knelt, sliding her hands down over his hips. “Can you control yourself like that if you’re in my mouth?”
He cupped her face in his hands. “Is that a challenge?”
She licked him from base to tip, and slid her hand between her legs as she drew the head of his cock into her hot mouth and sucked it.
She held up fingers that glistened. “See what you do to me?”
He sank down to his knees, seized her hand and brought it to his mouth, sucking the salty sweet lube off her fingers. “I need you now. I don’t want to play around.” He pulled her to her feet and groped in the dresser drawer for the condom stash.
“Hey, buddy. I thought you were chained to a tree!”
“So I cheated. Call me Houdini.” He fumbled the thing on with desperate haste, and tumbled her onto the bed.
She glowed against the dingy blanket, luminous. He wished there were something softer on the bed for her. Scratchy wool that smelled like mothballs and dust was fine for him, but not good enough for her.
Not that he could even hold a thought for very long. The shadowy beauty of her body made him distracted. Dazzled and stupid.
He stayed on his feet, stroking the tender cleft between her thighs with his fingers, spreading the wet pink folds. He thrust himself deep.
She braced her hands against his chest as she stared into his eyes. “Are you OK?” she asked, her voice tremulous.
“Never better,” he said. “That’s my line, anyhow. Are you?”
The giggles made her pussy contract deliciously around his cock. “Yes, I’m great,” she said. “You just looked kind of scared, that’s all.”
“It’s been a scary day. But this makes up for a lot.”
She nodded and began to move, inviting him with her body to indulge himself. No fighting, just sweet eagerness. She had surrendered to pleasure. The more open she was to him, the wider open he was to her. It was a feeling that grew, expanded into a blast of raw energy. His body surged into hers, out of control, but she was with him all the way, cluching him with her arms and legs and pulling him down on top of her. His lifeline. They shot together over the edge, lost in a pleasure so huge, it blotted out all coherent thought.
He opened his eyes when he felt the soft vibration. Her face was wet, eyes squeezed shut. “Hey. Margot. Are you—”
“No. I’m not OK. I’m a train wreck.” She mopped her eyes with her fingers. “Of all times in my life to feel like this about a guy. I knew it. I knew you’d be too much for me, and I just went ahead and jumped.”
He felt bewildered and helpless. “Margot, I didn’t mean to—”
“Don’t.” She covered his mouth with her hand. “My stupid feelings are not your fault. You’re doing your best, so don’t even say it. Just…let me get up, please. I need to run into the bathroom for a sec.”
This isn’t my best, he wanted to say, but he didn’t know what the words meant, or where they came from. He slid out of her body. She got
up and scurried out of the room.
His best? He didn’t know what his best was. He was changing, mutating before his own horrified eyes. It was tying him in knots.
He disposed of the condom and got between the threadbare sheets, fingering the limp weight of the coarse wool blanket. When he brought Margot here again, he’d bring some new bedclothes with him.
When she ventured back into the room, she looked shy, her eyes damp and pink. He scooted over to the cool side and lifted the covers for her. She slid into the bed beside him. Every inch of his skin rejoiced at the contact. He wanted to tell her that, but he couldn’t think of a way to express it that wouldn’t make her start crying again. God forbid.
He smoothed her hair away from her face. “I love your hair.”
She twirled a lock of her hair and smiled at him. “You should have seen it back in the good old days, when I was a redhead and could afford expensive haircuts. I looked pretty fine, if I do say so myself.”
“I saw pictures of your haircut. You looked great, but I like it better long and soft and loose around your face. It’s sexier.”
“Oh. Thanks.” She vibrated against him, that suppressed emotion he’d begun to recognize as neither laughter nor tears, just an overflow of whatever she was trying to hold inside herself. It made his chest ache with tenderness. He wanted to see that coppery color framing her beautiful face. He tightened his arms around her. “Grow it out for me.”
She gulped. “Um…OK. If you like.”
It occurred to him that hair grew out slowly. It took months. Years, even. The thought, far from alarming him, was oddly comforting.
Margot was too wired to sleep. She was unwilling to miss a single second of the delicious heat of Davy’s naked body behind hers. He held her tightly, spooned up back to front to get as much skin contact as possible. She’d assumed that he was sleeping until he started petting her, his hand stroking her belly, sliding lower until it teased the tangle of hair between her legs. A questioning stroke as light as a kiss.
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