Bedlam Page 19

  Kyle slid a few inches lower on my body. He scraped his jaw across my breast, the whiskers rasping over the tender flesh. My fists clenched in the sheets. God. This was exactly what I’d fantasized about, only… better. I’d suspected that I’d welcome the rough sensation of bristles scratching skin, but I’d had no idea that the sting would be so sweet.

  He kissed the hollow between my breasts, his lips warm as they molded against my skin, sucking here, biting there. His tongue found my navel as he shifted lower.

  His head reared back. “You pierced your belly button?” He gently touched the flower-shaped charm that dangled from the bottom of the rose gold navel ring. Studded with diamonds, it had been a twentieth birthday present from my mom.

  “You like it?” I asked.

  “Yeah. I do.” He glanced at my face, frowning. “It doesn’t hurt if I touch it, does it?”

  “Not a bit.” I laughed. “For a hot minute I considered piercing my nipple, but chickened out. Now it’s too late, I suppose. Even if I change my mind, what’s the chance of finding a body piercer anywhere?”

  “Not as slim as you might think,” Kyle said. “Nyx ran a tattoo shop and she’s an experienced piercer. Just saying.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  I closed my eyes, full of happy anticipation as Kyle stroked my breasts and belly, reanimating all the delicious sensations that had left me limp with pleasure. Once again, desire flared. He rained soft kisses across my stomach, then slipped lower down my body. Clamping his hands on my thighs, he urged my legs apart.

  My eyes flew open when stubble grazed the soft flesh of my inner thighs. Kneeling between my legs now, he dragged his cheek over my right thigh, pausing to nuzzle the dark curls at the apex, before scraping his bristles down the left.

  “I’m dying to taste you, Sunny.” Kyle groaned. “That all right?”

  “Yes,” I breathed.

  Strong fingers teased apart my lips, and a flat, wide tongue slowly licked over my clit. Once, twice, three times. I tilted my hips, pushing closer to his mouth. That must have been all the encouragement Kyle needed. The tip of his tongue fluttered across my clit, then sketched clockwise circles around it.

  Of their own accord, my hands tangled in his hair, and I pressed his mouth against my sex, encouraging him to go harder and faster. He did. I shed any lingering inhibitions and devolved into a creature driven by need, whimpering and thrashing my head from side to side.

  He slid a finger inside me, then lifted a glistening face to meet my eyes. “Jesus Christ, you’re tight and hot.”

  “Don’t stop.” Was that desperate, breathy voice mine?

  Moaning—a glorious rumble that penetrated to my core—he wrapped his lips around my clit and gently sucked it into his mouth. He slipped a second finger inside me. I gasped, my back bowing, thighs spasming, as the best orgasm of my life crashed down on me, a tsunami of pleasure. When Kyle gave a final lick to that now oversensitive bundle of nerves, I shrieked and pushed his head away.

  Panting and resting his cheek on my thigh, he grinned up at me.

  “You taste so freaking sweet, Sunshine.”

  I found the strength to lean up on my elbows. With one arm, I reached for him. “Come here, baby.”

  Kyle crawled up between my legs, until we were face-to-face. He smiled down at me with unabashed warmth and genuine affection in his eyes. My heart turned over in my chest. Kyle Chamberlain was a good man. Some of my friends thought you had to choose between a boring nice guy and a hot bad boy. Fate had handed me a hot nice guy, a considerate badass who rescued me from a genuine villain. I was one lucky girl. And we weren’t done yet.

  Holding his weight on his forearms, he dropped his head and kissed me. I tasted the metallic tang of my excitement on his tongue. His heavy cock lay against my thigh. Thirty seconds ago I felt limp and spent, drained of energy, but now something stirred to life. Desire, curiosity, and tenderness coalesced into a feverish arousal. Once again, I burned for him.

  “Now, please, Kyle.”

  “Hold on.” Kyle rolled off the bed and walked over toward the door, where his duffel sat on the floor. I watched him through slitted eyes, my fingers stroking through my slick and puffy folds. He dug through the duffel, then stood, brandishing a foil-wrapped condom. His gaze fell on my hands, and his expression morphed, from triumph to a blazing need that matched my own.

  Three quick steps brought him to the bed. I reached out with eager hands and dragged him back to me. My heart thundered in my chest, and my limbs trembled with anticipation, yet we kissed as if we had all the time in the world.

  Kyle dropped his forehead to mine. “Ready?”

  “Yes.”

  Rising up on his knees, he tore open the foil packet. I watched, fascinated, as he rolled the condom down his erect cock. I gulped. Would that thing really fit inside me? It was bigger than I imagined, but people had been doing this since the dawn of time, so it had to work, right?

  He settled once again between my legs. Reaching between us, he eased the tip of his shaft into position. I slowly undulated my hips. My wet heat slid over his length. I held my breath when he pressed his cock inside me. I squeezed my eyes shut, sorting through the sensations—tissues stretching, an unfamiliar fullness, a bite of not-unwelcome pain. I opened my eyes and glanced down at our joined bodies. Whoa. Only the tip was inside.

  Relax.

  Kyle supported his weight on his arms, his shoulder and bicep muscles corded with tension as he held himself immobile. Was he giving me time to adjust? Probably. I touched his face, tracing a finger over the lines of tension that bracketed his mouth as he fought to hold still. Sweat beaded his forehead and dampened the hair at his temples. He turned his head and kissed my palm.

  “Move,” I whispered. “I want you to move.”

  He dropped his mouth to my ear. “You want me to fuck you, baby?”

  Oh my God. I never imagined I’d hear those words coming from Kyle’s mouth.

  “God, yes,” I whimpered. His fist clenched the sheet by my head and his cock twitched inside me.

  With a groan, he pushed, driving forward until his cock was seated deep in my core. He stilled once again, his breath coming in shallow pants. I felt… breached, impaled… but beyond the undeniable throb of pain I sensed something tantalizing just out of reach, something that only Kyle could help me find.

  “Move,” I breathed, certain that this was the only path forward.

  “You sure?”

  In response, I raked my nails down his back, goading him on. That was all the encouragement—all the permission—Kyle required. With a low growl, he pulled back, then slammed home.

  I gasped, absorbing the incursion. Heat flared in my sex, zinging out across every fiber of my body. My fingers curved into claws, and I dug my nails into his ass, pulling him closer. I clenched my muscles, allowing myself to feel how completely he filled me. Holy hell, how he filled me. I rocked my hips, encouraging him to thrust. With a groan of undisguised relief, Kyle did just that, tentatively at first, then with increasing vigor.

  I danced a fine line between pleasure and pain. Only when I embraced it—permitting my senses to spiral out of control—did the balance shift decisively in favor of pleasure. My world contracted to a pinpoint. The only reality was the immediate, the tangible. Everything else retreated. Nothing existed beyond the circle of Kyle’s arms.

  He reached down and brushed his thumb over my hypersensitive clit. That’s all it took. An orgasm rocketed through my core. Everything clenched. My nails must have clawed furrows into Kyle’s ass. To my surprise, tears sprung from my eyes.

  Kyle must have held off his own orgasm until I found mine. As my muscles contracted around him, he let himself go, jerking and shuddering inside me. I collapsed, physically and emotionally spent. Kyle sprawled next to me. We were silent as our heart rates and breathing returned to normal. Sighing, he rolled on his side. He twirled a damp tendril of my hair around a finger, then ran his palm across my sw
eat-slicked breasts and stomach.

  “Got to admit, Sunshine, I never expected to see you like this. Trembling with exhaustion. Drenched with sweat. Smelling like sex.”

  I batted at him with a limp hand. “Are you complaining? Are you going to accuse me of leading you astray?”

  His shoulders shook. “Hell, no. No complaints. Probably sounds crazy to say—the way the world is—but I don’t think I’ve ever felt happier.” He frowned, reality clearly rushing back. “If we can avoid the Allsops, get to Pendleton, and find a way to rescue Finn, that is.”

  “Shhh.” I laid a finger across his lips. “A smart guy told me once to be in the moment.”

  “Yeah? Sounds like a really smart guy. A genius.”

  “Eh.” I waggled my flat hand in the classic maybe-yes, maybe-no gesture.

  “Hey.” Lunging at me, he blew a raspberry on my belly button. I shrieked, then covered my mouth, remembering Mrs. B. and Ever next door. Laughing, Kyle hopped out of bed and disappeared into the bathroom. He reappeared a minute later—sans condom—and carrying a washcloth. He poured water from the ice bucket onto the washcloth. He knelt next to me on the bed, then gently wiped the damp cloth over my face, my breasts, my stomach, and my thighs. He pressed the cool cloth over my sex.

  “You’re good?” he asked, his expression serious.

  I smiled. “I’m perfect.”

  “Eh.” He mimicked my skeptical hand gesture. I burst out laughing, unable to contain my happiness. Grabbing his hand, I pulled him back down on top of me.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Kyle

  I fell asleep late—a good hour after Sunny drifted off—but still managed to wake up early, well before our scheduled 9 a.m. departure time. I stared at the ceiling, listening to Sunny’s quiet, steady breathing. I’d worn her out last night. That knowledge filled me with a crazy sense of pride. She laid curled against me now, one leg thrown over my thigh, her fingers flat against my stomach. If I shifted positions—wriggled a few inches higher on the bed—her hand would brush against my cock. Thinking about it made me hard. Maybe I could wake her up and go again.

  “Don’t be a dick,” I muttered. Dick. Ha ha. Groaning at my own lame humor, I carefully lifted her hand off my stomach. Sunny had been a virgin and having sex again so soon after her first time might hurt. Sure, I’d promised to wreck her, but said wrecking wasn’t supposed to cause actual pain. Untangling my legs from hers, I slid out of bed. I hiked up my jeans and pulled on my tee and my shoulder holster. One hand on the doorknob, I paused and looked back at Sunny. Her brown hair fanned out against the pillow, and her pretty face was relaxed in sleep. Smiling, I stepped outside into a crisp, sunlit morning.

  Mrs. B. waved at me from the middle of the parking lot where she’d dragged one of those flimsy plastic chairs piled up next to the motel’s outdoor pool. Wrapped up in her quilt, she held a steaming cup of tea. Her shiny black purse sat next to her chair. Good. Mrs. B. was packing. I walked barefoot over to her, careful to avoid anything sharp on the asphalt on my way.

  “Pull up a chair and let me make you a cup of tea.” Her small camp stove sat on the asphalt, next to her box of tea things.

  I fetched a second chair while she put a tea bag in one of her mother’s antique cups. As soon as the water came to a boil, she poured it over the tea. Wrapping my hands around a porcelain cup covered with—what else—pink rosebuds, I sat back in the wobbly chair.

  “Sleep well?” she asked archly.

  Shit, she’d heard us, hadn’t she?

  “Yes, ma’am.” I brazened it out. “You?”

  She ignored my attempt at deflection, and her expression grew serious. “You’ll be good to Sunny, won’t you?”

  I met her eyes, hoping that the truth radiated from mine. “I will. I promise.”

  She smiled. “Well, now that that’s settled—biscuit?” She held out a box of ginger cremes.

  We sipped our tea in comfortable silence. Eventually, Sara and Rocco joined us. A few minutes later, Ever poked her head out of the motel room door.

  “I need to pee and the toilet is icky,” she called.

  No way we’d let the little girl out of our sight, not until we were well out of danger.

  “I’ll take her.” Sara hopped up. She grabbed a roll of toilet paper from the motel room, then led Ever around a corner of the building to attend to business.

  “Don’t look.” Ever’s voice carried across the parking lot.

  “I’m not looking,” Sara said. “My back is turned.”

  They emerged from the side of the building. Ever grumbled when the doctor insisted that she wash her hands, but did as she was told, rubbing a tiny bar of soap from the motel’s bathroom over her fingers while Sara poured water from a cup. Mrs. B. held out the box of ginger cremes, restoring Ever’s good spirits. The girl skipped across the parking lot and took a cookie.

  Cookies for breakfast. Unless you were the Allsops—or you lived on a ranch like Valhalla—apocalypse chow left a lot to be desired. Fingers crossed the major had found a way to bring healthy foods into the city. What I wouldn’t give for a plate of scrambled eggs or some fresh fruit.

  “Fitzwilliam slept with me all night,” Ever announced. “Right on my pillow. I rolled over once and got a mouth full of fur.”

  The door to our room cracked open, and Sunny peeked outside. She was dressed and, unlike me, she’d put on her shoes. “I thought I heard voices.” She crossed over to us, smiling a greeting. I watched her approach, alert for any sign of morning-after-the-first-time awkwardness.

  She dropped a kiss on Mrs. B.’s cheek. “Good morning, Mrs. B. Love you.”

  “I love you, too, sweet girl,” Mrs. B. said. “Tea?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “How about me?” Ever demanded, hands on her hips. “Do you love me?”

  Sunny laughed and kissed the girl on the cheek. “I love you, too, sweetie.”

  Rocco crossed his arms and huffed, widening his eyes in mock offense.

  “And I love you guys,” Sunny said to Rocco and Sara.

  “But don’t hold your breath waiting for a kiss,” I warned him. I snagged Sunny’s hand and pulled her onto my lap. She came unprotesting and wrapped her arms around my neck. The chair swayed precariously under our combined weight.

  “Aren’t you going to tell Kyle that you love him?” Ever asked.

  Sunny bit her lower lip and tilted her head, a tiny furrow between her brows. Was she hesitating because two days ago we’d confessed that we were halfway to being in love? We hadn’t crossed the finish line, so to speak. A lot had changed during those two days. Her disappearance clarified a lot of things, at least in my mind.

  “I love you, Sunny McAllister,” I said speaking my truth.

  A smile crept across her face. “And I love you, Kyle Chamberlain.”

  That was that. In a motel parking lot, perched on rickety chairs and surrounded by friends, our first declaration of love. I set my empty teacup on the ground and wrapped my arms around her waist.

  “Shouldn’t take long to get to Pendleton.” Rocco tore open the bag of dried apple slices and passed them around.

  “No more than an hour and a half, assuming the roads are clear,” I agreed.

  “I imagine the major controls access to the town with blockades and checkpoints,” Sara said.

  “Probably,” I said. “We’ll use Finn’s name to talk our way in to see him.”

  “Finn.” Sunny sighed. “I hope he’s all right.”

  “Will the bad guys hurt Finn?” Ever asked.

  “I imagine that they’ll put him in jail, dearest,” Mrs. B. said. “Like they did with Sunny.”

  Probably true, but Mrs. B. was leaving a lot out, wasn’t she? Any child living in the post-pandemic world had to face some scary realities, but I had no idea where you drew the line. What was too much for a young mind to process? I’d defer to Mrs. B. on this one.

  “Sunny escaped from the bad guys,” Ever said, ignoring the fact that Fi
nn played a big part in gaining Sunny’s freedom.

  “I did,” Sunny said. “And I’m okay. We’ll have to hope that Finn will be okay, too. And remember, Finn works for the major. I bet the major will want to rescue him.”

  “And then Finn will go to Valhalla with us?” Ever asked.

  “That’s the plan,” Sunny said.

  “Did you hear that Finn grew up at Valhalla?” I asked Ever. “And that his brother, Bear, is my good friend?”

  “Well, then he has to escape from the bad guys so he can go home.” Ever spoke with absolute conviction. A clear and simple truth, with no room for terrifying what-ifs.

  From her mouth to God’s ears, like my grandma used to say.

  Rocco topped off the gas tank while the rest of us packed up our things. Sara and Ever raided the motel’s bathrooms for more bars of soap and tiny bottles of shampoo. Mrs. B. supervised Fitzwilliam as he followed the call of nature. Sunny and I checked the office again and found a stash of kids’ juice pouches—the kind you poked open with a straw—tucked behind a pile of old phone books under the register.

  We climbed into the pickup, crowding Mrs. B., Ever, Sara, and Rocco into the back seat once again. Ever settled in happily with Fitzwilliam on her lap and a pouch of orange juice in her hand. We headed north into downtown Baker City, past a beautiful historic hotel and a grand old stone cathedral. We turned right onto Campbell Street, heading back toward I-84.

  “What’s that funny-looking swing set thing?” Ever asked as we drove past a city park.

  I slowed the truck to a crawl so I could check it out.

  “That’s not a swing set, dearest,” Mrs. B. said in a strained voice.

  No. I swallowed. Not a swing set. Someone had constructed a raised wooden platform in the park, fifteen or maybe twenty feet wide. A dozen steps led from the ground to the platform. Atop it, four evenly spaced upright posts supported a crossbeam. Heavy wooden brackets attached to the top of the posts stabilized the beam. From the beam, hung three thick ropes, each one wrapped several times around the timber. It was a fucking gallows. The only thing missing were the nooses, but it looked like somebody had sliced through the ropes, cutting down the unfortunate souls who had been hanged there.