Edge of Midnight (McClouds & Friends #4)(57)

Bye bye, road. “Hang on, babe.” He slewed the Wrangler Rubicon around and headed it into the waving, waist-deep meadow grass.



Liv grabbed the door handle and braced herself on the dash as they jounced and tipped. Sean’s face was tight with concentration. She hung on as they skirted trees, bushes, sometimes foundering in the grass, scraping over boulders that dotted the rough terrain.

Her arms felt like they were being ripped from their sockets.

Finally, they intersected a road, barely more than two long depressions in the grass. Burnt Ridge Crest. Thank God. The top of the Jeep was up, but the windows were open, blowing cool air over them.

She shivered, her chest and shoulders goosepimpling. Sean’s eyes swept over her body. She crossed her arms over her bouncing bosom, and almost laughed. Embarrassed about that, after what they’d just been through. Please.

She tried to organize her thoughts. A million frantic questions jostled for space. “So you guys never found any clues? About Kev?”

The dirt road had turned to smoother gravel, and now gave way to asphalt. They were passing farms and houses and mailboxes now.

“Just the clues Kev gave you,” Sean said. “Just the note.”

“What did that note say?” she asked. “I’ve always wondered.”

His face was distant. “One thing at a time. Scoot down. You’re conspicuous even when you’re wearing a shirt, let alone topless.”

She hunched, feeling slapped, and draped her hair over herself.

They headed into an older, seedier part of town, crossed the tracks with a tooth-rattling bump and turned in the parking lot of a motel. The highway roared on the overpass above. “Look,” he said. “I’m not kidnapping you. If you want to go home and paint a bull’s-eye on your chest, you’re free to go. I’ll hate it, but I won’t stop you.”

Liv nodded, almost wishing he hadn’t said it. After T-Rex, she wasn’t in any condition to make life and death decisions. It was easier to get swept along by wild floodwaters. If the floodwaters were Sean.

“Besides, you’ve got your fiancé to protect you,” he said.

It took her a few seconds to make the connection. “Oh, God, no! Blair is not my fiancé. That was just a lie my mother told, to get rid of you. You dashed off last night before I had a chance to make that clear!”

A door of one of the rooms swung open. A large-bellied, bearded man sauntered out, hiking up his jeans and scratching his balls.

The move was too swift to counter. Sean jerked her across the seat and onto his lap before she knew what he was doing. She grabbed his shirt to steady herself. “Don’t freak,” he murmured. “You need an excuse to be topless, and this is the best one I can think of.” He wound his fingers in her tangled hair, and kissed her.

It’s just theater, silly. Don’t melt for a public act.

It was impossible to heed that stern voice. Her protective layers were torn away, leaving a naked core of shivering need. His lips were so hot, soft and urgent. She clung to him, kissed him back desperately.

Someone whacked the body of the Jeep, making her jerk. “Whoo hoo! Go for it, buddy boy! Helluva way to start yer day!”

Sean stuck his hand out the window, gave the guy a thumbs up.

He slid lower in the seat, pulling her down on top of him. Their lips parted, with a moist pop that reverberated through her body. He was burning hot, radiating emotion. He vibrated in her arms. The armored chill that had encased him ever since her revelation about Kev was gone. The kiss had melted it. The look in his eyes bordered on fear.

He hadn’t shown fear when sprinting towards a bomb, or facing down a gun, or in mortal combat with a killer. But he was afraid of her.

She wanted to reassure him, but she couldn’t think of words that made sense. Only kisses could convey what she wanted to tell him.

He tugged, gently, on the back of her head. A flash of insight warned her that this wordless invitation was more dangerous than the wild sex and high drama of the night before. This was the real honey-baited trap. This soft, torn-open feeling in her chest.

But it didn’t matter. She leaned forward. He made a breathless sound, almost a whimper when their lips touched.

The kiss was almost reverent. They kept their eyes open, afraid the other would vanish into smoke. Sweet, perfect. A shining miracle, unfolding and blooming. They didn’t want to break the spell by being too eager, so they circled around it, marvelling. Afraid to breathe.

Liv had never considered herself an expert kisser, but she finally got what kissing was all about, in a flash of bone-deep understanding. It wasn’t about technique, or experience. It had nothing to do with how innately sensuous she was, or wasn’t. It was about yearning, welling up from inside. She ached to touch him, to be scorched by his heat, to feel that metallic bronze sheen of beard stubble rasp over her skin.

She wanted to lavish him with all the tenderness she had.

The guy in the parking lot had been joined by a buddy. The two of them cackled and guffawed together, shouting out coarse suggestions.

She couldn’t care less. They were dogs barking in the distance.

She clutched sodden handfuls of his shirt. He clutched her back. Lips and tongues fused. Asking questions, demanding answers. Begging for salvation, for redemption. It would take years of frantic kissing to sort it all out. Years of desperate loving to make up for the pain.