Rain began splattering on the windshield just as she turned onto her street. Darkness had fallen, deepened by the cloud cover. Lightning flashed briefly in the west, lighting up the belly of the storm system, and thunder rumbled.
Her house was dark. She usually got home well before dark, so she didn't leave any lights on. Normally she wouldn't worry about stepping into a dark house, but tonight she felt a chill creep up her spine. She was edgy, more aware of her vulnerability. She sat for a moment in the car, reluctant to turn off the motor and go inside. No vehicle was parked in Sam's driveway, but there was a light on in his kitchen; maybe he was at home. She wished he would leave his truck in the driveway instead of parking it in the garage, so she could tell when he was there and when he wasn't.
Just as she turned off the headlights and ignition, she saw movement to her left. Her heart jumped into her throat, then she realized it was Sam, coming down his front steps.
Relief flooded through her. She gathered her purse and plastic shopping bags and got out of the car. "Where the hell have you been?" he shouted, looming behind her as she locked the car door.
She hadn't expected him to start yelling; startled, she dropped one of the bags. "Damn it!" she said as she leaned down to pick it up. "Do you have to make a career out of scaring me?"
"Someone needs to scare you." He grabbed her upper arms and hauled her up to face him. He was shirtless, and she found herself nose-to-pectoral-muscle with him. "It's eight o'clock, you may have a killer stalking you, and you don't bother to call and let anyone know where you are? You deserve more than just being scared!"
She was tired, nervous, the rain was getting heavier by the minute, and she was in no mood to be yelled at. She lifted her head to glare at him, and water trickled down her face. "You told me to get Caller ID and a cell phone, so if I'm late, it was your idea!"
"It took you three goddamn hours to accomplish what a normal person can do in half an hour?"
Was he saying she wasn't normal? Incensed, she put both hands on his bare chest and shoved him as hard as she could. "Since when did I start answering to you?" He staggered back maybe an inch.
"Since about a week ago!" he said furiously, and kissed her.
His mouth was hard and angry, and his heart pounded like a sledgehammer beneath her hands. As always when he kissed her, it was as if time spun away, leaving only the here and now. The taste of him filled her; his bare skin was hot to the touch, despite the rain beating down on them. He locked her against him, his arms so tight she couldn't draw a deep breath, and against her belly she felt the thrust of his erection.
He was shaking, and suddenly she realized just how scared he had been on her behalf. He was big and rough- looking, and strong enough to hold his own with an ox; every day he probably saw, without flinching, things that would make the average person cringe in horror. But tonight he had been afraid – afraid for her. Her chest ached suddenly, as if her heart squeezed. Her knees wobbled and she sank against him, melting into him, rising on tiptoe to meet his lass with equal force, equal passion. He groaned, deep in his throat; the kiss changed, the anger fading, to be replaced by violent hunger. She had surrendered totally, but that didn't seem to be enough for him because he sank his hand in her hair and pulled her head back, arching her neck and exposing her throat to his mouth. Rain spattered in her face, and she closed her eyes, helpless in his iron grip and not wanting to be anywhere else.
After the emotional upheaval of the past three days she needed to lose herself in the physical, to push all the grief and fear away and feel only Sam, think only of Sam. He lifted her off her feet and began walking with her, and she didn't protest except when he stopped kissing her, didn't struggle except to get closer.
"Damn it, would you stop wiggling?" he growled in a strained tone, shifting her to one side as he climbed his front steps.
"Why?" Her voice sounded smoky, sexy. She hadn't known her throat would do that.
"Because I'm going to come in my jeans if you don't," he half-shouted in raw frustration.
Jaine thought about his problem for maybe half a heartbeat. Since the only way she could be certain not to overexcite him was to tear herself out of his grip and not touch him at all, that meant she would be depriving herself.
"Suffer," she told him.
"Suffer?" He sounded outraged. He wrenched open his front door and carried her inside. It was dark in the living room, the only light filtering through from the kitchen. He smelled of heat and rain and wet hair. She tried to run her hands over those broad shoulders and found herself still encumbered by purse and shopping bags. Impatiently she dropped them to the floor, then attached herself to him like a limpet.
Cursing, he staggered a few steps and pinned her to the wall. He tugged at her slacks with rough hands, attacking the button and zipper until the button flew off and the zipper yielded. Her slacks slid down her legs and pooled around her feet. She kicked off her shoes, and he lifted her out of the circle of fabric. Immediately she wound her legs around his hips, feverishly trying to get closer, to meld their bodies and ease this wildfire of need that was burning her up on the inside.
"Not yet!" Panting, he leaned his weight against her to keep her in place against the wall and unwrapped her legs from his waist. Her ribcage depressed by his weight, Jaine could manage only the first protesting moan before he hooked his fingers in the waistband of her panties and tugged them down her thighs.
Oh.
She tried to think why she had been going to make him wait another couple of weeks, at least, maybe even a whole menstrual cycle. Nothing reasonable came to mind, not when making him wait also meant making herself wait – not when she was so scared that the same person who had killed Marci might also be targeting the rest of them and she would kick herself if she died without knowing what it was like to make love with him. Right here, right now, there was nothing more important than trying this man on for size.