Fatal Strike (McClouds & Friends #10)(101)

Some time later, he shifted his body, arching over her. She lifted herself with a moan of delight as he nudged and prodded into place, and caught her breath at the perfection of his slow entrance.

He stirred her up, inside her body, inside her mind. Bathing himself with her slick balm.

He ground to a halt. She gazed up into his eyes, clutching his shoulders. “What?”

He shook his head, eyes shut. “I’m so wound up.”

She pulled him close, clenching herself around the thick hot club of his cock. “I love how you are,” she said. “I love how you want me. How much you care. Give it to me. All of it.”

“Look at me,” he demanded. “The whole time.”

Her eyes were wet with tears. “Yes.”

That was the end of words. She just clutched him, hung on, gasping for breath, as the rhythm grew desperate, hard, frenzied.

Their eyes locked, all the way up to the mutual explosion.





The log shifting in the fire roused Miles. He stirred, reluctantly ungluing them where sweat and sex had stuck them together. His breath hissed between his teeth at her *’s tight, pleading farewell clutch around his cock.

He stirred the fire, put on another log. Disappeared into the kitchen, and came back a moment later with a cup of water.

“Drink,” he said.

She smiled at him with her eyes over the rim of the cup.

Miles drank the rest as she sank back onto the couch, staring at her reclining body, and stroking her breast, the dip of her waist. Then down, between her legs, toying with her drenched folds.

“Good thing we put down the sheet,” he said. “Yum. Wet.”

“Yes.” She was abruptly self-conscious about it. “I should wash.”

His hand got bolder, slipping inside her. “I’ll wash you,” he said. “I love groping your *. Makes me crazy.”

She laughed. “Right. I know just how you wash me. It would defeat the purpose of washing. You’d make me wetter than before.”

“So? What’s your point?” He slid two fingers deeper in her slippery hole. “So we defeat the purpose. Over and over. Let’s defeat the crap out of it. Let’s drive the little bastard right into the ground.”

She lifted herself to him, laughter rippling through her. She felt so open, yielding. He leaned over her, his clever fingers teasing her into another swelling crest of pleasure.

It broke, and washed over her in long, pulsing, rippling waves.

He climbed onto the couch and lay alongside her, clasping her in a tight, shaking hug that melted her to tears.

He looked alarmed. “Did I hurt you? Did I do something to you with my mind?”

“No. I’m great,” she assured him. “It just feels good. I feel so much better. I could almost eat.”

“Really?” He jerked upright. “Let’s do it! Come on.”

“What’s the hurry?” He clambered off her body, and she was sorry she’d said it. She missed his heat, the contact.

“Don’t want to miss this opportunity. Let me see if there’s more food.” He flipped on the light in the kitchen and washed his hands.

She watched from the couch, enjoying the spectacle of a stunning naked man reaching up to rummage through cupboards for sustenance for her. Didn’t get any better than that. It didn’t even matter if it all imploded on her. What mattered was this moment. Perfect, precious, and hers. She would live it completely, and no one would ever be able to take it from her. No matter what happened.

She wiped the tears away just in time, as Miles came out of the kitchen, two steaming cups in one hand, a wax paper package of crackers in the other. “Instant cocoa and stale graham crackers are the best I could do.” He sounded displeased with his offerings. “Nothing but sugar and starch. Tomorrow we’ve got to get you some better quality sustenance.”

“This is great,” she assured him.

He watched her wash down a bite of the graham cracker with a sip of hot, chocolate-flavored water. “This is the first time you’ve independently asked for food,” he said. “I feel like throwing a party.”

“Don’t make me self-consious about it,” she grumbled.

He rolled his eyes, but his smile was so beautiful and happy, she got down an entire second cracker, then a third, to please him.

Miles drained his cup and opened his arms. She climbed onto his lap, sighing with contentment at the contact with his hot body.

They cuddled, her head on his shoulder, her hair trailing down his back, listening to the fire crackle for a long time.

“You should get some sleep,” Miles said.

“And you?”

“Going to fire up the computer, do some poking around,” he said. “You might as well rest while I do it.”

She lifted her head. “What now, Miles?”

He let out a careful sigh. “I’ve been trying to come up with a plan,” he said. “We can’t stay here. We can’t stay anywhere for a while, at least not nearby. Tomorrow, we buy food, clothes. We stay on the back roads, we get a new vehicle. We road trip, and stay clear of him. And as soon as we can organize it, we accuse him.”

She nodded. “Sounds good.”

“Let me get my phone,” he said, sliding her off his lap. “I have to check on Davy.”