Blood and Fire (McClouds & Friends #8)(49)

A flush rose, like a hot cloud, until her whole body felt red. She wanted to say something offhand. Sure. No biggie, having a gorgeous sex god who held all the keys to her destiny, squishing her onto a bed.

He propped himself onto his elbows so that she could drag in some air. She didn’t do it consciously, but suddenly, she’d moved so he was resting the stiff bulge of his crotch against the vee of her opened thighs. The wind moaned, singing of a vast empty solitude outside that made it so much more intimate within. The last two lovers in the world.

There was no reason in the world for him not to just open his jeans, twitch the gusset of her thong aside and have her. She ached for it. A hot pull of mindless yearning that actually hurt, it was so strong.

He answered her silent call, settling into an incredibly slow, sensual pulse. Her face got hotter, her breath shallow. They couldn’t break their eye contact. It blazed out of her like light, how badly she needed him to press against that sweet ache, just like that, again . . .

She lifted herself against him. He seconded her every move with such grace, such perfect swirling pressure and the slow . . . firm pulse and push, and oh, God, yes . . . yes . . .

She exploded, energy pumping down to her fingers and toes. Beyond. Extending out into infinity, fused with him, with everything.

When she got enough presence of mind back to be mortally embarrassed, he was kissing her. Tender, coaxing kisses, wordlessly asking for something from her that she didn’t even dare put a name to. Let alone grant him. She just didn’t have it to give. She turned her face away, but Bruno was having none of that. He cupped her face, forced her gaze back until their eyes locked. “You warmed up?” he asked.

She nodded.

“I just meant to get you warm. I swear to God. I didn’t mean to dry hump you. That just sort of happened.”

He lifted himself up. Before she knew what she was doing, she’d yanked him back down. He landed on his elbows, wary. “Huh?”

“Don’t you want . . . ?” She couldn’t say it. She wound her legs around his thighs and let her body ask the question.

He gave her an are-you-kidding look. “Of course I want it. But you’ve been skating on the edge of a breakdown ever since those guys attacked us. You almost had one right outside. It’s not a good time.”

“I’d be OK,” she assured him.

He shook his head. “You can’t be sure how you’d feel. And if I started, I wouldn’t be able to stop.”

So? Who wanted him to stop? She wanted to scream, slap him, force him to stop trying so hard to be a good guy. But that would make her seem crazier. Push him further away.

“Get warmed up,” he said. “Get on your new clothes, get some food into you, then we can talk about everything you know, suspect, or guess, or fear about what’s happening to you. Then we hike up to the bluff.”

She jerked up onto her elbow. “Are you kidding? Is this a time for a flipping nature walk, Ranieri?”

“It’s the only place with cell reception,” he said. “I can use the phone Aaro gave me, with encryption software.”

“To call who?”

“My brother’s brothers. My adopted brother Kev recently hooked up with his biological family a few months ago. Real eventful, you might say. But you know all about that, right?”

She dropped her gaze. “Um. Some of it.”

His eyebrow tilted. “I figured that. Anyhow. Once I’ve talked to them, I can make some decisions.”

She blinked. “Um. Excuse me? You will make the decisions?” “Yes.” He stared her straight in the eyes. “Me. It’s your own fault, Lily, for dragging me into this. Now you have to deal with me.”

“Don’t get masterful on me, Ranieri. I don’t respond well to that.”

“You need someone to make some decisions for you, babe,” he said. “Just a few. For a little while. Just restAnd trust me.”

She shook her head. “Don’t ask me to trust you, because I can’t. It’s nothing personal, I swear to God. I just don’t have the equipment.”

“You don’t have a choice,” he said.

It was true, she realized. She’d put herself smack-dab in someone’s else’s power. Alone in a cabin in the armpit of the universe, with a guy who could pick her up and twirl her on his pinkie if he felt like it. But there was no reasoning with her urge to micromanage.

“They’ll be listening to the McClouds,” she said stubbornly.

“The phone calls will be encrypted,” he repeated. “These people run a security company, Lily. They’re ex-military, ex-special forces, ex-everything. Plus, they were raised by a paranoid survivalist freak with global conspiracy theories.” He blinked. “You know, your kind of guy.”

She bristled. “Smart-ass.”

He got back to work. Lily stared at dust motes dancing in the beam of light that sliced through the window, determined to stay alert.

Next thing she knew, the smell of coffee and frying onions was dragging her out of sleep. She forced herself up onto her elbow, trying not to wince. The shoulder hurt, a lot. The room was warm. The angle of the light had changed, moved up the wall.

Bruno stood over a gas range, stirring onions that sizzled in a cast-iron skillet. They smelled amazing. He looked different. A fresh black sweatshirt. Wet, clean hair, no bloodstains. He looked yummy.