Last Light(53)

I cruised around Denver for half an hour. Mel played Lorde and Banks and other artists I didn’t recognize.

By seven thirty I was on the outskirts of the city. The road ahead drove straight into the prairie and the abrupt darkness. I slowed the car.

I felt a small, hot touch through the denim of my jeans, and I glanced down to see Mel’s hand on my thigh. How long had it been there? It was time to turn back. I pulled over, the car crunching to a standstill on the gravelly roadside.

“What are you doing?” I murmured.

“What are you doing?” Mel said. Her fingers drifted up and brushed my cock. I seized her wrist. My body betrayed me; my shaft stirred beneath Mel’s hand.

“Don’t,” I said. “You’ll only regret it.”

“How do you know you won’t regret stopping me, Matt? Look at me…”

I humored Mel, inclining my head and rolling my eyes toward her. I still had a steely grip on her wrist. By now that grip must have been painful, but Mel moved her fingers anyway, exploring the shape of my arousal.

“Mm. Stop.” I hissed through clenched teeth. She’s drunk, I thought, and that’s to blame.

So what was to blame for my growing hard-on? I met Mel’s gaze, and I cursed inwardly for putting myself in this position.

“You’re saying stop,” she whispered, “but your body…”

My stomach pitched. Sickening. So what if my dick was getting hard? Mel was assaulting me—I didn’t f*cking want this—and I wasn’t about to take advantage of her.

I removed her hand carefully, though I wanted to fling it. I twisted away and adjusted my dick. Fuck … even my own touch burned, brushing over that stiff skin. Calm the f*ck down …

“I know damn well what my body is doing,” I snapped, too angry to feel embarrassed. “It’s doing what it f*cking should do when a pretty girl grabs my dick. And you’re making a fool of yourself.”

“Give me a chance,” Mel pleaded.

“A chance for what? I’m with Hannah.”

“I’m making a fool of myself for you.” Melanie’s voice became very small. I knew that if I looked at her, I would find her eyes imploring. I would pity her, and pity is dangerous. “I want you, Matt, and … I’d always regret it if I didn’t try, okay? I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” I laughed. “Perfect. You tried, and you failed. Are you happy now?”

“No. You don’t see my point.”

“What’s your f*cking point?” My dick was finally settling down. I exhaled roughly and glared at the night. A driving melody came from the speakers, and Banks sang something about love being a waiting game. Her sultry voice and the song’s pounding rhythm weren’t helping.

“My point is that I might be good for you. I might be the one for you, but you won’t even consider me. I mean … why are you hiding in a cabin without Hannah? Why do you have to sneak into Denver to see her?” Mel’s words tumbled out too fast; her speech sounded rehearsed. “It’s because she won’t run away with you, isn’t it? But I would. I would do that for you happily, Matt. I really like … being around you. I don’t need anything else.”

A smirk twisted my lips. Mel barely knew me, and she thought she wanted me.

How immature …

How ridiculous.

And yet, as I glowered at the night, I considered the truth of her words. Hannah wouldn’t run away with me. But Mel would, and this total darkness could swallow us now … tonight.

I suspended my irritation long enough to feel the night beckoning.

I heard a silvery click—Mel’s seat belt unlocking—and then she was on top of me, straddling my lap.

“Melanie,” I snarled, “get the f*ck—”

Her mouth covered mine. Between layers of fabric, her small breasts pillowed against my chest. Her hand darted between my legs and my cock sprang back to life, straining into her palm. Fucking Melanie! And f*cking me! Why was I reacting this way? I tore my mouth off hers, but a soft, unbidden moan slipped from me.

Mel took my moan for encouragement. She began to stroke me through my jeans, coaxing my arousal into a raging erection.

“Stop!” I shoved her, hard, and she spilled over the console and crumpled on her seat. I lurched out of the car and slammed the door. I stalked into the grass.

“Ah, f*ck,” I whispered. “Fuck.”

A few yards from the car, I stopped. I kneaded my neck and struggled to relax. In the cold night, I felt a hundred degrees.

I took deep breaths, one after another, and stared up at the stars, zillions of glittering flecks visible in the prairie darkness. My God, I wanted to disappear. Disappear completely. I felt that I stood right at the edge of reality, or maybe I had walked off that edge. Maybe I had succeeding in dying after all.

The thought didn’t frighten me.

My arousal cooled along with my anger, and I strode back to the car. I thought of Hannah, who was a woman and not a child. I remembered our violent passion over the last few days and how it fed this dark appetite of mine.

She satisfied me—completely.

With that thought in my heart, I opened Mel’s door and dropped the keys on her lap. I climbed into the back of the car, buckled my seat belt, and closed my eyes.