Edge of Midnight (McClouds & Friends #4)(35)

She couldn’t stand it. She spun around, put her back to him.

“I’m getting more confused every second,” he said softly. “It’s dangerous to confuse me, baby. Ask anyone.”

She shook her head. “Just shut up. You sadistic bastard.”

“That’s a good start, but it’s not what I told you to say. Say it. Toss me out, if you’re going to, because the suspense is killing me.”

“Fuck you, Sean McCloud.” The words burst out with breathless violence.

“Sure, baby.” He sounded as if he were smiling. “In a heartbeat.”

“Don’t.” She forced the words out through the knot in her throat. “Don’t jerk me around. Stop torturing me.”

“I didn’t mean to.” He sounded puzzled. “I just wanted to talk. See T-Rex’s emails. Make you smile, since you had such a shitty day. I didn’t mean to make you cry.” She shivered, as his hand came to rest on her shoulder. “If you don’t want me to leave, what do you want?”

“Why even bother asking?” The words burst out with a bitterness she hadn’t known she felt. “I can’t get what I want. You taught me that.”

“I did?” He parted her damp hair, and pressed his hot lips against the back of her neck. “I’m sorry I did that. But you know what, Liv?”

“What?” she whispered.

He kissed it again. “Sometimes you can get what you want.”

She shivered, almost whimpering at the soft, hot caress of his mouth, the light pressure of his teeth against her sensitive nape.

“No. I can’t,” she replied, voice quivering. “The price is too high.”

“Sometimes the price is worth it.” The edge of his teeth dragged over her skin, then his lips, in a devastatingly gentle kiss.

“I’m crazy to let you touch me,” she whispered.

“Yes,” he agreed. “Crazy wild. I love the way your hair grows down to a swirly cowlick, right here at your nape. With that sexy beauty mark right beneath it, at four o’clock. So f*cking beautiful, it just kills me.”

She shook with a shaky mix of laughter and tears. “Get real.”

“I am real. I remember every last one of them.” He circled his fingertips tenderly over the silk covering her shoulders. “Go on. Test me. I’ll draw you a map of the beauty marks on your shoulders and back. I memorized them, like the constellations. Then we can compare.”

“Yeah, right,” she muttered. “I know your slimy dog tricks.”

His lips moved over her shoulders, his breath a delicious caress. “I went nuts for the one on your left foot. About an inch above your big toe. I always wanted to just fall to your feet and smooch away at it until you were giggling like crazy. Then I’d work my way up. Slowly.”

Liv opened her eyes. The door to the bathroom hung wide open. Drops of condensation rolled down the full length mirror on it, making a surreal, striped field in which their dark forms were half reflected.

Sean’s eyes burned into hers. Her face looked almost frightened, eyes dilated. Her cheeks flushed hot, moist red. The sash of her robe had slipped loose, as if mischievous fairy fingers were teasing it open.

She didn’t move to stop them.





Chapter 8



T he sash fell open and slithered over her hips, landing on her feet with a whisper of silk. Her robe was open, less than an inch, revealing a shadowy strip of her body between long panels of pale, gleaming fabric. Close it, goddamnit, the little scolding voice in her head said. Yank that sucker closed, tie the sash tight, and say what has to be said to make this guy disappear. He’s more trouble than he’s worth. Way more.

The yammering voice faded into a meaningless blur of white noise in the back of her head. In the forefront, the image of the two of them in the mirror grew ever clearer as drips coursed their way inexorably downward, each one washing its own stripe through the steamy surface.

The robe gaped a little more now, though neither of them had moved. He could see her body. Her taut nipples pressed against the delicate silk. The valley between them, the heavy undercurve of each one, the swell of her belly, the dip of her navel was all clearly visible. The tuft of dark hair that covered her mound.

And she was letting him look. As if he had a right. As if she wanted him to. As if she’d been waiting for years, offering for years. Aching for him to look at her, to touch her. To take her.

The silence, the darkness, wove a spell around them both, thickening until it was palpable. It was a deep, throbbing hum, blotting out thoughts, fears, doubts and leaving only feelings. Wild, unruly feelings that were gathering a huge momentum, swelling into a power she could not hope to control. Her eyes were locked with his in the mirror, and the slow-growing realization became a certainty.

The impossible, the unthinkable, was about to happen. She was actually going to do this. He was going to seduce her, and she was going to let him. His hand drifted around, touched her face. Cupped her cheek. She blushed even hotter beneath his hand. Turned her face to him, leaning into his touch, like a cat being petted.

She terrified herself. She hadn’t thought herself capable of such depths of self-destructive stupidity, but she wanted this, desperately.

Why not? Why the hell not?

The decision abruptly made itself, without her help. Yes. She would live this fantasy, in full. No stupid romantic expectations.