My Next Breath

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My Next Breath Page 8

by Shannon McKenna


  “Not really. I pretty much skipped the whole process of being a teenager and geeked out on science. I love thinking about the human brain. How it works, how to fix it when it doesn’t. I could never get bored with that.”

  “And your family didn’t think it was weird that you only wanted to study neurology?”

  She looked blank. “No. It kept me busy. And it was just my stepdad, at that point. He just let me get on with it.”

  Zade made a low, growling sound in his throat before he could stop himself. They’d set her running with no off switch, not giving a shit about her health or sanity. And they’d been raking in the dough ever since. Pricks.

  His anger was clouding his thought process. “So this stepdad you’re talking about. He’s the guy who sends security people out to follow you around?”

  “Yes, he’s pissed at me these days,” she said ruefully. “I’ve been working from home lately. He just hates that. He’s CEO of the company I design for.”

  He grunted. “Must be strange, having your stepdad as your boss.”

  “I’ve never worked anywhere else, so I wouldn’t know.”

  “Never thought about trying something different?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Not until just recently. I just work. All the time. As if something is chasing me.”

  He waited while she let her thoughts form. “During that phone call I heard you say you never took a day off,” he said carefully.

  “Yeah. I have this fear that something terrible will happen if I stop. But terrible things happen when they happen. Like those guys tonight.”

  “Want to try a day off with me?” he asked.

  She looked wary. “Ah … I don’t even know what I’d do.”

  “Just get into my Jeep. We’ll drive someplace beautiful. Simple as that.”

  She gave him that mind-blowing smile. “That’s generous of you, but don’t you have to work?”

  “My work is flex,” he told her. “Nobody tells me what to do or where to go.”

  She looked impressed. “Good for you. So what do you do?”

  He shrugged. “Various things. I have a consulting business and I make enough to cherry-pick my gigs. If I’m not pushing against the extreme edge of my abilities, then I’m not interested.”

  “Got it. I like to lose myself in work, too. It’s an escape, I guess. But I don’t know what I’m trying to escape from.”

  “You’re safe here,” he assured her.

  She studied him with fascinated eyes as she took another sip of her beer. “So what kind of work pushes you to that edge?”

  “Encryption. Cyber-security systems designs. Some high-level corporate penetration testing, but only if the gig is a huge, ass-kicking challenge. I’ve designed weapons systems for defense contractors. And I fix cars for the hell of it. But only the ones I own.”

  “Okay. That fills in some blanks. But there’s one more thing I want to ask.”

  He leaned back in his chair, waiting for it. “What’s that?”

  “In the bar,” she said hesitantly. “When I freaked out. It seemed like you knew just what to do. To help.”

  “Yeah. What about it?”

  “You talked me through it,” she said. “Where did you learn to do that?”

  He thought long and hard before he answered. “I know people with mental health issues,” he said finally. “The talisman is a method to block panic or pain. And step back from it. Ride it out. That’s all.”

  “Do you have personal experience with it?”

  “Some,” he hedged.

  “The talisman worked for me,” she said. “Maybe because it was you.”

  He stopped breathing for a moment. “How so?”

  “My visual. I was looking right into your eyes when you asked me to pick something. Your eyes were all I could see. So I just went with that. And it worked.”

  His dismay must have been obvious on his face. Her eyes went wide and wary. “You didn’t say anything about what image to pick,” she said. “Believe me, Zade. It’s a compliment.”

  “I know, but it’s not … oh hell.” He wanted to tear out his hair. “Your talisman should be something neutral. Peaceful.”

  “Like what?”

  “Oh—a rose, a star, a waterfall, the moon. Not someone you just met. People are too unpredictable.”

  “Well, yes. I know that. But still, it worked. Like magic.”

  “I’m glad, but what about next time? What if you need your talisman again, but you’re pissed at me and think I’m an asshole? Where’s your safe place then?”

  She stared down at the table, obviously troubled. “I was in bad shape when I did it,” she said. “I didn’t know the rules.”

  “There aren’t any,” he muttered. “I should have explained it better.”

  Another tense silence, which quickly turned agonizing.

  She let out a sharp sigh. “Don’t worry about it, Zade. It’s enough for me that it worked tonight. I know how it’s done. I can come up with a new one on my own.”

  “But you—”

  “Shhh.” She stood up and sauntered around the table. Then she leaned down and kissed him. Slow and bold and hungry.

  “Alison,” he muttered.

  He pulled her down onto his lap. “You’re so damn sweet,” he whispered. “You scare me to death.”

  She gave him a smile that made his heart clench. He wished he deserved it.

  She slid off his lap and stood up. Then she slid her hand into his and led him toward the stairs, head high.

  Chapter 10

  Floating again. Up the stairs, down the hall. Her feet barely touched the floorboards, but she didn’t feel empty. She felt charged. Magnetized, electrified. Senses maxed out.

  And still somehow miraculously pain and noise free.

  The release felt wonderful. She could relax. Finally able to breathe, think, and feel. She felt everything keenly. The sensation of her own thighs brushing against each other as she walked was so stimulating, she’d come right then and there if she clenched them together.

  She drifted into his bedroom. He followed like an enormous, silent shadow.

  They stopped by the bed and stood face to face in the gloom for a moment. City lights sparkled through the big arched windows. The silence between them was heavy with unasked questions, guarded secrets.

  And through it all, that aching pull dragged her toward him.

  “Damn. I’m shaky.” Zade’s voice was low, uneven. “Downstairs—that was the most amazing sex I ever had. And now … ”

  She didn’t have any answer for him, but she had to say something. “It’s happening to me, too.”

  She waited, suspended in breathless silence, but he just blew out a sharp sigh and shook his head. He’d thought better of whatever he’d intended to say.

  She wished she could explain that it was okay if this was only tonight and nothing more. It was still perfect. But she’d probably scare him if she babbled on about it. Better to just proceed with the non-verbal communication.

  She spread open his unbuttoned shirt and pushed it off his massive shoulders, running her hands over his shoulders and chest. His skin was irregular, covered with scars. So hot, with that massive, steely musculature beneath. Her exploring fingers traced the sharp cuts and contours of his torso.

  His arms came up, holding her close. The tight, hard hug sent shudders of racking pleasure through her body. She hung on to him to keep from falling. Every detail, his towering height, the dark mass of his hair, the heat of his breath, seemed charged with secret meaning.

  Inked art covered him from neck to waist. His arms were long tattooed sleeves, his chest thickly decorated with complicated, swirling designs. She couldn’t make them out in this light. She longed for a closer look, but whatever. Later for that. Right now, she wanted to touch and taste.

  Maybe there would be time in the future to study his scars and tattoos and learn the reasons why. Maybe not. Didn’t matter now.

  “Um,
Alison,” he said gruffly. “I’m sorry about what I said. About the talisman.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” she assured him.

  “But I—”

  “Shhhh. Really. It doesn’t matter whether it works for me tomorrow or the next day,” she said. “It worked tonight. That’s enough. That’s already a miracle.”

  “But I want you to be able to use it whenever—”

  “I know,” she said. “But we can’t control everything. Actually, we can’t control anything. The talisman worked. Let’s just be together.”

  She peeled off the shirt she wore and tossed it away. It didn’t even occur to her to make a sexy ritual of it. She just wanted to feel more of his hot skin against hers.

  He let out a low moan when he saw her naked. “Oh, Alison.”

  Her knees hit the edge of the bed. She sat down on it and reached for his belt.

  He helped her, their hands fumbling together in the darkness, until the belt was loose, and the buttons were open, and his jeans halfway down off his hips.

  She reached around hungrily to cup his taut flanks, his steely buttocks, that rigid cock bobbing right next to her cheek.

  She reached for it, caressing him eagerly, but he covered her hands with his.

  “Wait,” he protested. “Tonight is supposed to be all about you, remember?”

  “Yes.” She tightened her hands around his thick shaft, squeezing and stroking. “And right now I’m being supremely selfish. I want this. Exactly this. You had your turn. Now I get mine.”

  “Ah … okay. You’re in charge,” he murmured.

  She leaned forward and licked him, with slow, lavish strokes, swirling her tongue all around his cockhead.

  So big, hot, and hard. He thrummed with explosive energy. She loved the quick throb of his heartbeat beneath his supple skin, her tongue as she explored him with her mouth, the drop of precome she squeezed out with her hands—every delicious detail. She inhaled his hot, salt smell. Savored his helpless response.

  His fingers wound into her hair. She sucked him deeper, then released him with a long, tight, tugging pull … tongue swirling and fluttering. In again. Licking twisting, slick and hot. His panting breaths. His gasps, getting quicker.

  “Can’t stop,” he gasped out. “Oh … fuck … ”

  She dug her fingernails into his ass, shivering in reaction at the explosive pulse of hot come into her mouth, staying still as long shudders racked his big frame.

  She pulled away when they eased down and let his long cock slide out, pressing her face to his thigh. Pressing soft kisses against his flat, silken body hair and the thick thatch at his groin. Inhaling his hot male smell.

  His clamped hands released their grip on her hair. She slid her hands down his muscular thighs, laughing inside. Buttoned-up Simone Brightman morphed into a crazed sex kitten, clawing at him. Making him stand still and take what she was giving. It was great. And she couldn’t stop fondling him. He was too gorgeous. Every inch of him. And tasty. She wiped her smiling mouth discreetly.

  “Sorry,” he said, his voice a dry, panting rasp.

  “For what?” she asked. “I insisted.”

  “I wanted to save that hard-on for you. Put it to work in the service of your next five orgasms.”

  “Overruled.” She pressed a kiss against his belly, nuzzling him. “Bet that’s an unfamiliar experience for you.” She stroked his shaft delicately with her fingertips, a long, feathery stroke. His cock came right up.

  “Look at that,” she murmured. “It seems you have plenty more to give.”

  He laughed. “Guess so. This is not normal. You’re turning me into a sex maniac.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing. Do you have more condoms?”

  He shucked his jeans, kicking them away into the dark. “Nightstand on the left.”

  She climbed onto the bed, heading for the nightstand on her hands and knees.

  Zade grabbed her and held her still. “Wait. Hold still. Let me look at you.”

  Her arms shook beneath her as he stroked her ass. Her hair tumbled around her hot face like a curtain, but it made her feel so open and vulnerable with him handling her from behind, spreading her legs wider.

  She heard him snap his fingers. The light glowed a little more brightly, but still soft and muted. Like firelight.

  “So beautiful,” he murmured. “That rosy ass in the air and that beautiful sweet thing all pink and shiny and glowing.”

  She felt herself blush hotly all over, waiting for him to—oh. He’d put his mouth to her from behind.

  She cried out in shock at the sensation. It was so intense, those lapping, plunging strokes of his tongue, thrusting hungrily inside her tender folds. Her arms gave way and she thudded down onto her elbows, face in the pillow, gasping with each sweet, melting lick. His hands, his mouth, the rumble of his voice vibrating against her clit as he lapped and fingered her all blurred into a rising erotic wave of pure, intense sensation. She heard herself cry out as that wave broke.

  It tumbled her down onto the bed. Boneless and soft.

  She was wrapped tightly in his arms when her eyes opened. He had a crooked smile of pure satisfaction on his lips. “That was great,” he said. “And I got another orgasm in.”

  “You did,” she agreed. “Without a doubt.”

  “What does that bring us to? Let’s see … five? Six, if you count the bonus one on the table downstairs. Call it five point five.”

  She giggled. “Okay. You rule. I award you all the points, Zade.”

  He rolled away from her, stretching his long body toward the nightstand and fumbling in the drawer. He pulled the condom out. “Here,” he said. “You put it on. I like it when you do it.”

  “Okay.” She stroked his broad, thick shaft as she rolled the latex up his formidable length. Squeezing slowly, root to tip. Again … and again.

  His breath slowed and choked off, hands clenching. “Oh God. So good.”

  She slid her fingertips down over his belly, feeling every detail of his tensed abs. Then stared down at his thick phallus, all suited up and ready to rock. She closed her eyes as the rush of erotic images assailed her.

  That hot, urgent glow deep in her body drove her on. She trusted it. And him.

  Simone spun around on the bed, turning her back to him, and slowly leaned forward. Hands and knees. Ass in the air. Arched and open.

  “Do you like it like this?” she whispered.

  The bed dipped and rolled as he rose up behind her, clasping her hips in his big hands. “Oh God, yes,” he groaned. “My dream come true.”

  She could hardly breathe. His hands were all over her, opening and stroking, spreading her slick juice. Then the blunt pressure of his thick cockhead, nudging slowly into her, getting himself wet. His skillful fingers, tenderly working on her clit.

  She rocked back hard, forcing him deeper inside.

  “Whoa,” he muttered. “Take it easy.”

  “No,” she gasped out. “Don’t want to be careful.”

  He laughed, and thrust deep, hot and hard. Driving her into a wild, frenzied longing for more, more, more. She glowed, she shone. Melting for him.

  The pace picked up, swift and slamming. The wet rhythmic slap of intense sex, breathless grunts, gasps, and whimpers. The bed rocked. Something wild and powerful grew inside her. Like the energy of some strong, lithe animal poised to spring.

  It did, flinging her into a throbbing darkness. She unraveled, deliciously.

  At some point in the timeless afterglow, he draped her body on top of him. She was sprawled out over his mighty chest. When she emerged from her trance, her cheek was pressed against his heart.

  She’d been listening in her dozing state to its steady throb. The tang of his drying sweat was sharp against her lips. She licked them, savoring his salty flavor.

  A faint smile curled his lips. “Tickles,” he mumbled.

  “Sorry.” Simone lifted her head to look at a tattooed list of letters, dashes, number
s. It scrolled down his chest. She trailed her fingertips over all of it, feeling multiple ridged scars. “That’s some serious ink you’ve got,” she said.

  “Yeah, I was heavy into it for a while.”

  “I like it,” she said.

  “Thank God.” He lifted a lock of her hair and rubbed it against her cheek.

  Simone studied the designs a little longer. “But where’d you get all the scars?”

  “Long story. Some other time.”

  “Now is good.”

  She could feel him shake his head. “You go first. How about these?” His hands slid over her lower back, hip, and shoulder.

  “All from my car accident,” she said. “And the surgeries after.”

  “Ah. I see.” His voice was neutral.

  She studied his face, puzzled. “Okay, then. I guess I can’t make you talk.”

  “How about this,” he said after a few moments. “I reveal juicy details one by one, not all at once. That way I can lure you back into my bed night after night.”

  She laughed at him. “You’re being evasive, but whatever. You don’t have to tell me. I’ll just look and wonder.” She cuddled closer and peered at the list over his heart, reading them aloud. “Miller D-8, Alonzo D-2, Ben D-4, Aiden D-6, Tyrone D-15, Darren D-16, Ricky D-11, Samuel D-1, Dustan D-10. What’s that? A team you were on?”

  Zade didn’t reply. In a flash of uncanny awareness, she suddenly felt the chilling sadness that radiated from him. It went right through her.

  “Oh no,” she whispered. “Zade, I’m sorry. It’s a memorial.”

  His flat silence was answer in itself.

  “That was stupid,” she said. “I should have guessed. Kept my mouth shut.”

  “It’s okay,” he said.

  She touched his cheek. Reconnecting. “No more questions.”

  His arms tightened around her. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to bum you out. That just took me by surprise.”

  “I understand.”

  She twisted in his arms until she could study his guarded face, his downcast eyes. Something else was haunting him, but he wasn’t going to spill.

  Okay. So they both had their doubts and their demons. Right now, all she wanted to do was help him forget about his. Whatever they were.

 

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