No One But You (Silver Springs #2)(85)

That fire had definitely turned into a lot more than he’d expected. It had spread so fast. But even then, it wasn’t such a big deal that it should destroy his whole life. Before he left her place that night, he’d made sure no one was going to get hurt. And Maude’s homeowner’s insurance would cover the damage. If it went down as unsolved, everyone could be okay. That was how it should go.

But Sadie and Dawson refused to let it. And if the truth came out, no one would believe he hadn’t intended to harm anyone. He’d be charged with attempted murder—and Sadie would be the first to testify against him.

The unfairness of that rankled so badly he couldn’t help grinding his teeth. Damn them. He wasn’t going to let them get away with it, wasn’t going to let them ruin his life.

He slowed as he came to a particularly narrow spot in the road and edged over to one side so he wouldn’t hit an irrigation pump. He was getting close, he could see the outline of the farmhouse in the moonlight only 200 feet or so away.

His tires crunched on the rocks that filled a low spot in the dirt road as he slowed even more. From there, he inched along until he reached the same vantage point he’d used before and cut the engine. He could see the yellow glow of a light through a second-story window. Was that Sadie’s room? Or Dawson’s? And it was late. Why was the light still on?

After what Sadie had said in the restaurant, he thought he could guess, but imagining her having sex with Dawson—moaning in pleasure as he pumped into her—created such a thirst for violence. He kept imagining sliding his hands around her neck and squeezing until her face turned blue, which made it impossible for him to focus on anything else. She’d had him so worked up the past few days he couldn’t eat or sleep!

You’re sleeping with him, aren’t you...

Yes, and I’ve never enjoyed anything more...

That was essentially what she’d said to him. The mere memory of her defiant expression made him long to smash her face. How dare she taunt him, when she knew his biggest complaint had always been how complacent she was in the bedroom. That was why he’d gone elsewhere occasionally: for some excitement! A man needed a good thrill every once in a while. It wasn’t as if he’d cared about those other women. He would never have touched them if she hadn’t been so resistant to trying some of the things he’d shown her in various porn flicks.

She was boring. Too straitlaced for him. He was glad to be rid of her, he told himself. Now he could do whatever he wanted, and he had no one to answer to. She couldn’t even give him a decent son. While other men’s boys were out playing baseball, his child was in the bedroom playing Barbies. Jayden was an embarrassment. Yet she stood up for him all the time, refused to let his own father teach him how to be a man.

He didn’t want her back. Not anymore. He just couldn’t take her running around town, acting as if she was so much happier with someone else, especially Dawson Reed. And he couldn’t let her bring that damn investigator to town.

His door creaked as he opened it, but there wasn’t anyone in the fields to hear. He waited and listened, to be sure. But it was every bit as quiet as it had been when he’d come here before.

After he climbed out, he closed the door softly and walked toward the house. Although he didn’t have any specific plans, he couldn’t make himself stay as far back as he always had before. That light, imagining Sadie inside, drew him closer—and closer.

Once he reached the yard, he crept across it and tried to peer through the windows. But everything was dark downstairs. Whatever was happening was happening above him, and he wanted to know what, if anything, that was. Otherwise, he could achieve no satisfaction.

He needed to get inside, he decided. Just to listen. Knowing they were so close, so vulnerable, would make him feel as if he was still in control of the situation—for a few minutes, anyway. He wouldn’t stay long.

After checking, once again, to make sure he was going unobserved, he approached the back door—and tried the knob. Son of a bitch! It was locked.

But that wouldn’t stop him. He’d just have to find another way in.

*

Dawson could hardly catch his breath for the intensity of Sadie’s kiss. Even though he’d been dying to touch her again, he’d promised himself he wouldn’t press her. She needed time.

But his body had acted almost of its own volition. When he’d heard her footsteps on the stairs, he’d intercepted her, intent on saying something, anything, to stall her for a few moments. He told himself he just wanted to talk, but, truth was, he couldn’t stand the thought of spending another night in his bed alone.

Fortunately, it hadn’t come to that. She acted as if she’d only been waiting for the right opportunity, because she certainly wasn’t holding back.

“Trying to leave you alone has been torture,” he said as his hands found their way up the back of her shirt where he could splay his fingers against her soft, smooth skin. “I’ve been miserable. Constantly imagining you naked against me. Imagining myself inside you. Hoping but not wanting to ask.”

“With everything that’s going on, it’s crazy I can even think of sex,” she said with a husky laugh. “But I haven’t been able to get you off my mind, either.”

“Then I’m glad you broke down.”

She kissed him again and again—hungrily, as though she might never get enough. “Tell me we’re not making a mistake,” she said as they gasped for breath. “Because I’ve never wanted a man like I want you. I can’t quash the desire, can’t even curb it.”