Final Surrender (22 page)

“You taste good,” she whispered and he swallowed roughly as she let her fingertips trace the contours of his lips. “Your lips are like nothing I’ve ever known, Clay. Velvet is what they feel like and they taste…they taste like heaven.”

She licked him again as he pulled her off her feet and took her mouth in a heated kiss. Tongues dueled as he set her next to the bed and pulled the towel away from her body and caressed her warm skin. Just as she thought she was about to get her dessert first, Clay pulled a T-shirt over her head.

“Food first, you little temptress,” he prompted as she scowled.

There was something very sexy about letting him dress her, and it really wasn’t fair that he peppered her with featherlight kisses up her legs as he pulled a pair of blue-plaid panties up her thighs.

“How much do I have to eat to get you to reverse the process?”

He settled her panties in place and ran his hands across her backside to make sure they were straight.

“Enough to make you sleep well tonight.”

“As long as you’re sleeping next to me, trust me, I’ll sleep well.”

“If I could keep my hands off you for longer than five-minute increments, you might be right.”

“Well, since we have to keep our relationship a secret, I’m going to make sure we make the most of it behind closed doors.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

After a simple meal and mindless TV watching that turned out to be background noise while they talked, Angela lay sprawled across her bed, tucked in under her warm covers and an arm thrown over her eyes, shielding them from the light coming out of the bathroom. Headaches were definitely still there and sleep was calling her name.

But Clay was taking a shower and he had just turned the water off several heartbeats ago.

After peeking from under her arm as he toweled off, she was amazed at the lust running through her body. Warming beneath her skin like a live wire connected her to the energy of the man across the room.

The way his muscles tightened on their own when he ran the towel over his abdomen was something straight from her darkest fantasies. He was just so much to take in.

Water clung to his dark hair and made him look rakish and dangerous.

The need clawing at her insides made her shift in bed as she removed her T-shirt and panties and let them fall next to her on the floor beside the bed opposite from the bathroom.

Clay turned off the light in the bathroom and strode to bed, completely naked and, to her extreme delight, aroused.

He got under the covers, instantly greeted with her soft, warm, naked body sliding next to him.

He gathered her closer until she was draped across his side and said, “You were supposed to be asleep. You need rest,” he added as he rubbed up and down her arm now out of the covers.

“Right. A gorgeous man, completely nude, is in my shower and I’m supposed to sleep. Why didn’t I think of that?” she added sarcastically, weighing her options.

It was dark in the room. A small amount of light filtered in from the glassed-in wall, but it wasn’t enough to fully illuminate her mouth as she chewed on her bottom lip.

A wide smile spread across her lips as she took matters into her own hands.

“What are you doing?” Clay asked, slightly stunned as Angela shifted next to him.

He groaned in delight as she settled on top of him. The wispy ends of her hair tickled his chest as her fingernails scraped his taut abdomen.

His hands went to her hips to hold her to him as he rubbed against her.

“Sleep. You need sleep,” he protested as the engorged head of his dick penetrated her oh so slowly.

“No, Clay. I need this. I need this more than I need air or food. I want to feel you against me. I want you to take me nice and slow and then I want you to take me hard and fast. I just want you. All of you. Tonight.”
Every night.

“You’ve been through so much in the past few days. I don’t want you to feel pressured into this.”

She slid down onto his rigid erection, causing him to dig his fingers into her sides, and his body went as rigid as his cock was.

“If I tied you to the bed, would that make you feel better? Don’t worry, if anybody asks, you can just tell them I made you do it.”

Clay slid along her inner walls, as far as he could get, over and over, until he touched the very entrance to her womb. He pulsed inside her, a rush of moisture eased from her body, coating him in liquid heat, easing his way inside her.

“No one in their right mind would ever believe that line. You’re beautiful in every way. Stubborn as all hell, but beautiful.”

He gritted his teeth together as Angela leaned back on her knees and increased the angle in which he penetrated her.

“Stubborn, huh? I’ll have to remember that.”

“Truth hurts sometimes,” he chuckled, shooting a tiny electric current straight to her clit.

A moan came up from her chest as Clay squeezed her breasts, kneading them, rubbing his thumbs across her nipples. Seducing her with his touch. She wrapped her hands around his as he encased her nipples between his fingers. Rubbing his thumbs over them, watching them flush in the moonlight.

His hips did wicked things to her. The impalement she received felt like a dream. He withdrew almost all the way, easing back into her sheath, raising his hips off the bed so to bury himself inside her. The moans leaving her mouth sounded sexy even to her. It was as if someone else inhabited her body when he got within a football field. Her body attuned to him on a frequency her hormones heard loud and clear.

Without so much as a warning, Clay flipped her over onto on her hands and knees, ass in the air and he covered her from behind. Taking her. Possessing more than just her body.

His chest lay close to her back and his teeth raked across her bare shoulder. She screamed his name as he filled her again.

“I love how your pussy feels wrapped around my cock. The little spasms running along your muscles grip my dick so tight. It’s like a fist holding me inside you. There’s nothing else like it. Do you like feeling me inside you? Filling you with my cock?”

“Yes, yes,” she gasped as he shuttled fast and deep inside her, yanking another moan from within. “It’s too much and not enough all in the same breath. I can feel all of you inside me, but it’s not close enough, Clay. I need more.”

“I’ve got everything you want, baby. Everything you need.”

She arched, shoving back against him as he leaned away, grabbed her hips and pumped heavy inside her. Filling her as his balls slapped against her clit, sending a need so strong to the center of her body.

Clay continued to move against her as he ran his fingers in their mingled juices.

“I want you here,” he admitted as he ran his wet thumb against the entrance to her rear. “I remember when I had you that first night. You fantasized about me fucking you in the ass. One of these days I’m going to do just that. I’m going to get you ready tonight. I want you to know how hot it could be. How hot it will be.”

His thumb smoothed over her tight hole as a wave of nervous delight rushed through her quivering body.

“More,” she begged.

“All I’ve got,” he admitted as he pushed past her tight ring of muscles.

Her pussy was so full, but she wanted more. Needed more as she grabbed handfuls of the sheets and drove back against him as she tried to remember how to breathe past the sensations filling her mind. Hot, deep, wicked sensations licked over her flesh like a phantom lover.

Clay fucked her with abandon. Unable to hold back just like she was with him. He was hers and she wanted him to claim her in every possible way.

He elicited a delightful shiver down her spine as he impaled her ass with his thumb.

“I want to feel you come while you are filled with me. Your pussy is so wet. What do you want, Angela? Just tell me what you want.”

All she could muster was, “Harder. Please, harder.” It was nothing more than a breath of air past her vocal cords as she moved back against him. Wanting more of the exquisite fullness he offered.

“Your wish, Angie, your wish,” he muttered and fucked her as she wanted.

He removed his thumb from her ass and she opened her mouth to complain, but a satisfied groan escaped instead as he filled her with two fingers instead, stretching her farther, and a second later he said, “Play with your clit.”

As if he had strings attached to her hand, it rose on its own volition to her mouth and she licked two of her fingers.

She placed her newly moistened digits against her swollen nub that peeked out, straining for relief that was so close she could taste it.

“That’s it, baby, God yes.” She clenched her muscles around his cock, and on the next pump of his fingers into her ass, she barely touched her clit and she exploded in his arms and all around him.

She gasped and screamed his name as he grew stiffer inside her. Her pussy milked his cock. Her ass pulled on his fingers, wanting more of him.

Her arms finally gave out, as did his legs, and they slid down to the bed together. Clay finally removed his fingers from her ass and she moaned in delight at the sensations still electrifying every nerve ending she possessed.

Clay lay on top of her with his dick still buried inside her pussy, which was convulsing in aftershocks.

Angela let out a giggle that made both of them inhale deeply. They were still joined. The illusion of belonging to him was slowly fading, but her body was too well satiated to worry about it tonight.

“I could go to sleep like this every night,” she admitted in her haze of fulfillment.

“Sleep well. Tomorrow will be a new day. Full of possibilities.”

“Just keep the monsters away tonight, okay?” she asked as if it had come from someone else. Her heart was exposed to him. She knew it was going to get her hurt just like last time, but damned if she could do anything to keep him out of any part of her.

Clay slowly pulled away when she fell asleep and made sure he didn’t jostle her awake. He walked to the bathroom and brought back a warm washrag and wiped down her slick thighs. He caught sight of her pouty lips still moist from his feast on them earlier. She shifted in her sleep and brushed her hair away from her face. He couldn’t help but press a kiss to her mouth and she smiled against his lips.

He was back in bed within minutes and asleep a few breaths later after he had pulled her close under the covers. He could smell the perfume clinging to her hair and her heartbeat seemed so fragile through her creamy skin.

He was so exhausted he only vaguely heard the phone ring an hour later.

Still groggy from sleep the next morning he checked Angela’s phone messages. Only one. Heavy breathing punctuated by three words electronically modified.

“’Til.

“Next.

“Time.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Six weeks later, Angela decided she must have been trapped in some kind of soap opera. Day after day she received letters taunting her, her family, and friends.

Each message demanded she drop out of the show at Fashion Week and they were all signed TNT. ’
Til Next Time.

At the beginning, with Clay there to dig through the mail with her, she’d always ask, “Why?”

Why did things stop?

Why did the stalker start up again, escalating so quickly?

He’d told her she was thinking with a rational brain so she wouldn’t be able to understand it, and going over every detail of why would do nothing but upset her. A profiler was being brought in but that would take time to get them up to speed, and he didn’t know how far they would get.

Bat shit didn’t come close when she actually relaxed enough to think about it.

She’d even thought about bailing on the show. She was exhausted.

But none of her family or friends would even hear of her relenting. They were her support and she cherished their strength and encouragement.

Her days were spent working feverishly toward the show, and her nights were spent wrapped around a man she couldn’t get enough of. The insatiable need to have him inside her was bordering on obsession, but he seemed more than pleased to feed her addiction. Which was good since trying to contradict all of the rumors that had cropped up with the numerous pictures that were being sent everywhere was time consuming and annoying on the best of days.

One was a picture of her at a restaurant with her publicity agent. She had a root beer in a bottle and the headline said,
Under the influence before noon!

Or the one where she had dropped her phone so Clay bent to pick it up for her and the photo that surfaced was him on bended knee handing her something.
Is ANG finally settling down with the hired help?

Oh, that really chapped her ass. She lost her temper numerous mornings when magazines she never ordered started showing up on her doorstep or in the mail.

But the worst of it was she couldn’t stop looking at them. Like a train wreck she couldn’t look away.

Then there was Clay. He never let it rile him. Any of it. He was always calm and collected.

And he was her shadow all day long. He had this way about him of blending into the background when he needed to, but he was always there and she had grown to depend on him.

One lunch during the week, she and Clay had taken a cab to go get sushi downtown. She had finally convinced him to try it after weeks of berating him for being a coward and convincing him it really wasn’t bait.

He ate it without a fuss but you could tell he would always be a meat and potatoes kind of man.

At her request they never touched in public. He didn’t try to hold her hand or kiss her with the passion she could see in his eyes.

He did however find a way to share some of her personal space. A hand in the small of her back as she entered a building. Brushing a hair from her face. All things a brother would do, unless you knew what wonderfully depraved acts her bed was being a part of at night behind closed doors.

That night they lay in bed after a very satisfying game of UNO at the kitchen table when Clay asked, “Do you know how long it’s been since I played card games?”

Angela tilted her head, staring up at his shadowed face, “Probably at my house with all of us, right before you and Mark graduated. I distinctly remember kicking your butt that night, too.”

“Sure, sure, of course you’ll remember it in your favor. You’re a woman.” Clay smiled confidently and glanced at Angela, whose smile faltered and she moved to get up from the bed.

“Hey, don’t get mad. I was only joking,” he countered as she tried to pull free again.

“I feel sick,” she got past her lips before she jumped from the bed and ran to the bathroom, holding her mouth.

Clay followed her in and stood behind her, holding her hair as she made a real go at inverting her stomach.

She flushed for the second time, touching her forehead to the toilet. “I’m sorry you had to see that, guess my sushi didn’t set very well with me.”

“Guess not. Can you sit there for a minute on your own?”

“Yup,” she said airily. “I’ve got my trusty porcelain god to hold me up.” She patted the side of the bowl lovingly.

He stood, grabbed a washrag and ran water on it, returning to put it on the back of her neck.

After several minutes and her stomach acting like it was going to stay put, Clay helped her to stand.

She cleaned up and then changed into another warmer set of jammies before heading back to bed.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Can I get you anything to eat, crackers or anything?”

“No. Nothing. I think I’m just really tired now. Sorry to ruin the evening,” she said sleepily.

“You didn’t ruin anything. I’m glad I’m not sick right along with you. I ate the same crap you did.”

“It’s not crap, you traitor. I thought you liked it.”

“It was all right, but once in a lifetime is good enough for me.”

“Not me, I love the stuff. I’d go back in a heartbeat. Well, maybe not tomorrow,” she added as her stomach turned over again and a sharp pain struck her intestines.

“I have a feeling we might be in for a long night. Get some sleep.” He kissed her forehead and she burrowed in closer.

“Night, and thanks.”

“For what?”

“For coming here, protecting me against the boogieman.”

“I won’t leave until we find him, I promise you that.”

Angela didn’t say anything else, just lay there. Too many questions of what would come after that swamped her mind.

Will he stay after that or go back to Texas?

If he stays, what will happen?

How will Mark take it if he does?

She fell asleep worrying about tomorrow and wondering when tomorrow would arrive.

Both Angela and Clay were exhausted the next day. Since Angela had a serious case of food poisoning. She couldn’t keep even water down. By four that morning she had finally agreed with him. Uncooked fish was only supposed to be used to catch bigger fish, fit for frying.

Thankfully it was Saturday and they didn’t have to be anywhere or do anything all day.

Clay ran out that morning to get a cup of coffee for himself and a paper. Once back inside and upstairs he tossed the paper on the kitchen table. It flopped open revealing an envelope tucked inside. The hairs on the back of his neck raised in warning. He grabbed a knife, using the corner of it to flip over the white envelope.

Anger seethed inside him. “Mother fucker.”

“Angela,” but didn’t get an answer. “Angela?”

Nothing.

He charged into her bedroom, flinging wide the door to find her asleep in the middle of the bed curled up on her side hugging a pillow. She never even moved. A soft snore reached him across the open distance.

His heart raced, the sense of doom slowly lifting like dense fog in the morning.

Slowly, after looking at her for several more minutes, assuring himself that she was untouched, he closed the door and went back into the kitchen. After taking a huge swig of his coffee he placed a call to Wyatt, closing his eyes to send up a prayer to keep her safe.

And to catch her stalker before she got hurt again.

Or worse.

Angela emerged into the living room around noon, exhausted but at least she had finally gotten to brush her teeth again.

She found Clay at the kitchen table, staring at her pile of stalker stuff.

“What are you doing?” she asked as she rubbed her eyes.

Clay straightened and gathered her in a hug that warmed them both.

“Just trying to find some common thread to all of this. There has to be something here that we’re missing.”

She stared at it for a second. One of the papers on top was different. New.

It was a copy of a piece of white paper that had pieces of pictures cut up and pasted in a very ornate arrangement. All the pictures, hundreds of them, came together to make a face. Angela’s face. It would have been beautiful if circumstances were different.

Three small letters were taped at the bottom.
TNT.

“Where’d it come from?”

Clay put his cheek on the top of her head. “Somebody slid it into my paper this morning. Police is questioning everybody. All the businesses. But nothing.”

“Cameras?”

He squeezed her tight. “I’ve already been through it and gotten a copy of it for Wyatt and the FBI. I sure didn’t find anything. They sent me a copy of what was inside after they determined it didn’t have a bomb in it. Or anthrax or anything else to kill half the population of NYC.”

Angela turned her back on it all, leaning on Clay for a few extra seconds.

“Hope you find one. I’ve got nothing to go on and I don’t think the police do, either,” she admitted while getting a can of soup down. “And the FBI nor the profiler seem any closer to an answer than we’ve been.”

Clay turned back around and stared again.

“Something about the collages feels so familiar, but I can’t figure out why. It’s like a ticking clock pegging me in the frontal lobe. We have to find this person before they do serious damage, especially if they’re bold enough to slip something in my paper when anyone else could have gotten it. I must have been standing right there with them. Right. Fucking. There.” Frustration bled off of him.

“Hey, Clay?”

He put down the newest copy and faced her. “Yeah, baby?”

“I’m glad you’re here. I don’t know if I’ve told you that lately or, you know, ever. But I’m glad you’re with me. You make this easier to handle.”

That half grin of his made an appearance. “Want me to add your name to my reference list?” Bobbing his eyebrows shouldn’t have made him look sexy but it sure as heck did.

Rolling her eyes, she rummaged around for the can opener. “I’ll let you know if your services are up to my standards later this evening, Mr. Waters.”

He brushed her hair to the side, and she leaned away as he nuzzled her neck. “I’ll take that into consideration when I get started then.”

“Aren’t you getting started now?” The words came out breathy, as if she’d lost her breath from a simple kiss on her throat. She had. But she wasn’t ready to own it.

“Why yes, Ms. Meyers. I do believe I am.”

“Good.”