Stroke of Midnight (Nightcreature #1.5)(69)

But as he stared at her, many thoughts came to his mind. Reality was trying to blow the groove. He could hear them talking about rains hitting Texas soon. He was traveling by bike. Before her, that wouldn't have been a problem, yet there was no way he could put her on his bike in a driving rain. And if they had to hole up for a few days in a motel, that would eat into his shrinking budget.

The original plan had been to hit the races in Arizona, the money in his pocket was for incidentals, Snake was gonna cover his room and board… which meant that he needed a way to make some cash along the way to travel with her right. He couldn't take her to the roadside joints he and the fellas would crash at. He couldn't take her to some biker hangout trailer in the back woods where for a pound of weed they could stay for free and drink.

The preacher had had a point: they had to keep to the main highways, especially if they were on the move at night. And it wasn't about getting some side mechanic work around these parts—everybody knew how to go under the hood. Being a good mechanic was a matter of supply and demand. In L.A. there were a lot of cars and a lot of people who didn't know squat about how to fix them. But in no-man's-land, everybody could fix their car, do plumbing, carpentry work, hunt and shoot, and pretty much do whatever needed to be done—or they had a brother or cousin who could.

Rider rubbed his face with both palms. A cigarette was calling his name, so was Jack Daniel's. Since he'd put out the last butt before he'd gotten to the preacher's house, he hadn't even broken the seal on the carton he'd bought in town. He looked at Tara as she ate the last of her steak. Riding with a woman in tow was much more expensive, was much slower, but worth every damned minute. The question was, how to make it work?

"You look tired," she said, dabbing the corners of her mouth with a napkin.

"Just need a smoke," he said, stretching and trying to let his brain rest.

"I wish you wouldn't do that," she said quietly. "It's bad for your health, and I want you to live for a long time."

He wanted to lean across the table and kiss her, but thought better of it, given where they were. He smiled instead. "I'm going to live forever, don't you know that, darlin'?"

Her eyes held his, suddenly deadly serious. "Do you want to?"

Desire slammed him full force. "With you? Yes…" He could feel desire come back with a vengeance. "Let's get out of here. We can hit the road tomorrow morning."

"We might have to travel at night," she said with hesitation. "I'm better then, have more energy. Sometimes the sunlight saps my strength."

He smiled and allowed his gaze to rake her. Then he leaned forward and dropped his voice to a low, private murmur. "You don't need strength. You just hold on, baby, and leave the driving to me."

She just shook her head and smiled.





CHAPTER 5


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She'd set a slow flame to every inch of him; had left no section of him unbranded. There had been moments during the night when he knew he was losing consciousness. She'd made obscure parts of him literally come alive in her mouth… the veins at his wrist, the insides of his elbows. When she'd nuzzled his femoral artery going down on him, he'd nearly blacked out. If this was what they taught healers, he'd convert to whatever religion her people espoused and would smoke peyote and live the quiet life. If she wanted him to go on a spirit walk in the wilderness, so be it, just as long as she kept loving him like this.

Even as he briefly slept, she was inside his head, calling him, loving him, arching under his hold. He'd ejaculated in his sleep, and had awakened to her kiss at his throat, which only started the whole crazy thing all over again. He couldn't stop if he'd wanted to; could no more reach for that damned box in the bag across the room if his life depended on it. Right now she was air. Right now she was the very blood in his veins. She was his pulse. Was his heartbeat, and the reason to draw another breath. Crazy about her didn't begin to define or do justice to what had happened. He'd lost his mind completely, and didn't care one whit that he had.

He pulled his mouth away from her neck, his hands threaded through her dark tendrils as he peered up at her, exhausted.

"Are you all right?" she whispered, giving him a sexy, sated smile before gently kissing him. "I'm not scaring you yet, am I?"

"No," he murmured. "Just don't stop."

"I have to get some rest. It's going to be dawn in a couple of hours. You have to rest, too, if we're going to push on from here."

He flipped her to lie beneath him, looking down at her, his arms trembling at either side of her shoulders. "You are so beautiful," he whispered. "You have this effect on me that I can't explain… I'm sorry I lied to you when I said I'd pull out. Baby, I meant to every time, but couldn't. You're like an addiction."

She smiled and touched the side of his face, totally understanding what he was trying to say, and wishing with all her heart that she'd met him before. From the first time she laid eyes on him, she knew he was the one, just like his hazel irises now glittered with open desire. His pupils were dilated and every stroke of her hand made him shiver. Her gaze traveled down the broad chest, and her hands caressed his thick shoulders and trailed down his strong, trembling arms. And his hands… pure strength and yet gentleness resided within them. She'd lost her voice too many times to count at the mercy of those hands.