Edge of Midnight (McClouds & Friends #4)(93)

“Who’s joking?” She sank to her knees and took him in her mouth. He sucked in a shallow gasp, and stopped breathing altogether.

He didn’t last long. A few excruciating strokes, a few teasing swirls, and it was a landslide, an earthquake, a catastrophic explosion, molten lava spurting. He was startled to find himself still on his feet.

Cindy was wiping her mouth, gazing up. She looked startled.

“Uh, wow,” she whispered. “That was explosive.”

He yanked his pants up. Turned his gaze away.

“You’re a virgin, aren’t you?” she asked. “I always wondered.”

Right. Like he could admit that to her. He knew how that would play. She’d have been all worried for poor sex-starved Miles. She would have tried, out of sisterly compassion, to get him laid with one of her sluttier girlfriends. Whichever of them was game for a mercy f*ck.

His eyes stung. “I don’t need your pity. Just leave me alone, OK?”

Cindy rose to her feet. “I don’t pity you. You don’t deserve pity. Don’t think I did this for you. You don’t deserve it, you nasty prick.”

“Then why’d you do it?” he asked, though he knew he would hate the answer. Her nonchalant shrug made her tits bounce tenderly.

“Because I felt like it. You know what a selfish bitch I am. Have a nice life, Miles.” She turned. The door to the stairs slammed shut.

He sank into his chair, and burst into tears.



Cindy sprinted through the kitchen, pretending not to hear whatever Miles’s mom called after her. She couldn’t make out the words. She was blubbering too hard. Bone deep, shivery shaking.

That had been so weird, so kinky. Out of nowhere. The impulse to come on to him had been so strong. So wrong.

She grabbed her bike and swung her leg onto it. She wobbled and swerved, dashing hot tears from her eyes. The taste of him was still in her mouth. She needed a drink of water in the worst way, but it wasn’t like she could ask Miles’s mom for a glass. Gee, thanks, Mrs. Davenport. You know how it is when you swallow.

She was so wound up. Her crotch tingled against the bike seat. She’d genuinely wanted him to yank her cutoffs down and go at her like a stallion with that thick, excellent thing. Like, who knew? The best kept secret in Endicott Falls, hidden in Miles Davenport’s baggy pants.

Why did she keep doing this? Throwing herself at him, begging him to be her friend again. Lashing out like a spoiled baby when he shoved her away. She was a glutton for punishment. Well, she’d definitely made an impression with this stunt. Whatever he thought of her, he wasn’t going to forget this in a hurry.

She laughed bitterly to herself, trying to keep her eyes wide open so the wind in her face could dry the tears leaking out.

She was so sick of being treated like a bimbo. Granted, she wasn’t the superbrain that her big sister Erin was, but her scores on all those tests back in school had always put her up in the top tenth percentile.

Not in the same egghead club as Erin or Miles, maybe, but not a drooling vegetable, either.

She’d just gotten too comfortable playing the cute ’n sexy card. But what did she have to show for it? A string of badass ex-boyfriends, one of whom she’d barely escaped from with her life. An ex-best friend who hated her guts…even when he was coming in her mouth.

Yeah, being cute had enhanced the quality of her life, big-time.

She should tone her looks way down, maybe. Wear horn-rimmed cat-eye glasses, big baggy sweaters, combat boots. Ditch the makeup. Might as well go all out, and just shave her head while she was at it.

But the idea made her so anxious. If she wasn’t getting attention from the guys, what did she have going for her? What was she, anyhow?

Not much. Just a random girl. Not real special. Not real bright.

Miles would tell her she was doing her poor-me routine again. She snuffled with soggy, ironic laughter. Thank God for her sax. At least she could do one thing that was cool, and real, and all hers.

She started down the long descent into Edgewood Circle, a super wealthy enclave of Endicott Falls, and coasted past the manicured Victorian home of the college president. She’d played receptions with the Vicious Rumors there, back in the good old days when Miles was doing sound for them. Back when he still liked her.

She was so curious about these mysterious projects Miles was working on. He got off on the dark, creepy vibe, Goth freak that he was, and there were always plenty of creepy vibes to go around when those McCloud guys embarked on one of their bizarre adventures.

Weird, that they’d forbidden Miles to ask Porky questions. Too bad he couldn’t take her along. She’d be his secret weapon. If she wore her stick-on silicon boob pusher-uppers and a micro-mini, she could pry anything out of old Porky. That type went nuts for bubbleheads. Bubbleheads made them feel so godlike and smart by contrast.

The impulse came to her out of nowhere, just like the impulse to jump Miles’s hot bod had done. Almost as stupid, no doubt, but still.

The McClouds had forbidden Miles to ask Porky questions, but nobody had forbidden silly Cindy to do anything. And they might be surprised at what a simpering sex object might pry out of a man like Porky. For all their charisma and experience, she had something they didn’t have. Two somethings, bouncing on her chest, and all the bells and whistles that went with them. She knew how to use them, too. It was her most highly developed skill. Other than playing sax, of course.