Ice (Page 32)

Two things weighed in their favor. One, even if Niki was still alive he saw no way she wouldn’t be injured, probably too severely to be able to move. Two, if by some perverse miracle she was able to move, she had to be as cold as they were—unless she’d been using meth for so long she’d gone into hyperthermia, which would be doubly dangerous in this weather because she wouldn’t feel the cold, wouldn’t properly protect herself from it.

When he was recovered and dry, he’d bundle up and go back outside, check out the crash scene again. From a different angle he might be able to see if Niki was still in the mangled Blazer. Until then, all he could do was handle one problem at a time and stay alert for any strange sounds.

Then another problem presented itself.

As he’d gotten warmer he’d become aware of how good Lolly felt pressed against him, soft and shapely, with very nice curves that had been hidden beneath all those layers of clothes she’d been wearing. The spray of water hit her and ran down perfect, smooth flesh. She was wet and soft and naked …

Gabriel ran his hands up and down Lolly’s back, trying to create heat with friction as well as with the hot water. He could feel the change in her as she warmed; she relaxed, her breathing became more normal and her stance became stronger, steadier. She was going to be okay. They’d made it, survived a hellish situation, and for the first time in hours he let himself relax from a state of high alert.

He almost went to sleep there, standing in the hot shower with Lolly wrapped in his arms. Maybe he did doze, for just a second. Maybe she did, too, because other than the rise and fall of her chest she didn’t move.

Gradually he surfaced from that almost-sleep. The ice storm continued its deadly accumulation outside, but he and Lolly were safe inside, warm, protected, free to simply feel and react. As his body absorbed the heat of the water he felt as if he, too, were melting, until there was nothing left in the world but his body and hers.

It was easy to stand beneath the spray and hold on to Gabriel and let everything else go. No more fear, no more cold. Just this.

Gradually she became aware that he no longer had any problem finding his penis. It swelled between them, long and thick and rock hard. Vaguely startled—Gabriel McQueen was turned on by her?—and yet completely accepting, Lolly opened her eyes and looked up to find him staring down at her with the set, intent expression of a man who wanted sex and knew he was about to get it. Even in the dim, fading light of the flashlight, she could see the glitter in his eyes.

He smoothed her wet hair back from her face, cupped her bruised cheek with one big hand, then his mouth was on hers.

His hand was gentle. His mouth wasn’t. He kissed like a marauder, hungry and fierce, demanding and taking surrender. Without thought or hesitation she gave him what he wanted. Nothing mattered beyond this moment, beyond the sudden reckless fever that flared to life between them. They could both be dead, so easily. They weren’t; they were here, alive, warm, and they came together in a frenzy.

He lifted her, crushed her against the tiled wall under the showerhead so the water continued to beat down on them. Instinctively she wound her legs around his hips, the position opening her to him. Reaching down, he positioned his penis; the thick head brushed against her soft flesh, barely entered, and that was enough to make her whimper in need. She writhed, searching for more, and he gave it to her. With a groan he pushed deep, stealing her breath, both easing and increasing the sharp need. She groaned, too, at the taking of him, at the sensation of being stretched by the heavy fullness already pumping back and forth inside her. Lolly closed her eyes and tightened the grip of her legs around him, riding out the storm.

She came hard and fast, crying out, trembling and arching under the onslaught of sheer pleasure. He gripped her ass and moved her back and forth on him, short, fast strokes that intensified her orgasm and was almost too much to bear. Moaning, she dug her fingernails into his shoulders as the sensation peaked, subsided, then abruptly peaked again. She couldn’t bear it, couldn’t stand any more, and tears suddenly flooded her eyes. “Please,” she said, and with a shudder and a deep groan he buried himself to the hilt and came, too, pumping hard and fast and gradually changing his rhythm to slow and rolling as he drew out his own pleasure.

In the aftermath there was silence, but a silence in which they clung together, gulping in air and trying to regain some strength in legs that had none. His heavy weight crushed her into the wall; if it hadn’t been for the support of that wall, she suspected they would be on the floor of the shower. Her arms were wound around him, and absently she stroked the back of his neck, absorbing the feel of him naked against her. He was all hard muscle, every inch of him, and everything in her that was woman delighted in being pinned there with his penis still heavy inside her.

He roused up enough to reach out and turn off the shower with a snap of his wrist. The water was cooling anyway, and the efficient gas heater had already warmed the bathroom to pleasantly toasty.

Neither of them said anything. There would be a time for talking, but that time wasn’t now. For now, they just were, adrift in the moment.

Gently he cupped one breast with his big, hard hand. His rough thumb brushed back and forth over her nipple and she felt that touch everywhere, tingling along nerve endings that hadn’t yet quieted. She pressed her lips to his wet shoulder, then with a soft sigh let her head rest there.

Her thoughts drifted as relaxation spread through her bones. She loved this house, she thought drowsily, always had: the smells, the large rooms, the old furniture. Until tonight, all her memories in this place had been good ones. She didn’t want her last memory made in this house to have anything to do with Darwin and Niki. When she walked away, when she said good-bye, she wanted her final memories to be good ones. Gabriel had given her that, replaced horror with pleasure, bad with good.