Epiphany: Part Two Page 6

  As their words sank in, I narrowed my eyes. If they were talking about Elmo…that meant they were talking about Brad.

  Had he been arguing with Six?

  I turned around and bumped into Aidan. God, he had a way of sneaking up on people. He trained his attention on the three drunken women. “You heard that?”

  “Yeah.” He leaned down and spoke into my ear. “I’ll see what I can find out.”

  I focused on the next customer, but I couldn’t help trying to decipher Aidan’s conversation with Christie and Company. He poured them another round of shots, a wide smile on his face as he made eye contact with the brunette who’d seen Elmo.

  I took a stack of dishes into the back, and when I returned, Aidan was still situated in front of them, chatting and flirting. Lightning brightened the night outside the windows. I blamed my nerves on the storm and not on the fact that he was deep in conversation with three gorgeous women who wouldn’t hesitate to eat him alive.

  Keeping busy, I did my best to avoid watching him, and sometime later he blocked my path.

  “What in the world is a Habu Sake shot?” he asked.

  I laughed. “You haven’t been initiated yet, have you?”

  “This doesn’t sound good.”

  “Be right back.” I disappeared into the back long enough to grab the Japanese-labeled bottle. A long Pit Viper snake coiled at the bottom. I remembered the first time I’d seen the ugly thing. Six had gotten a lot of amusement out of my reaction.

  Now it was my turn.

  I pushed through the doors and found Aidan waiting. “This,” I said, presenting the bottle so the snake’s gaping mouth faced him, as if poised for attack, “is Habu Sake, also known as ‘snake juice.’”

  “Are you shitting me?” He took a step back. “People actually drink that stuff?”

  I grinned. “A few of the regulars do.” I held out the bottle. “Go ahead, pour your first shot.”

  “Not a chance.”

  “You aren’t scared of a little dead snake, are you?”

  “I don’t like snakes, and they don’t like me. Wait, I take that back. They like to bite me. Rattlers have gotten me twice now.” He nodded toward the bottle. “You’re on your own.”

  “You must be pretty tough to withstand two snake bites. Sure you don’t wanna pour? You’ll never live it down.”

  “No, thanks.”

  Still grinning, I poured the shot. “The person who serves the snake juice gets out of dish duty, just so you know.”

  “Not a problem. In fact, I hear the dishes calling my name right now.” He disappeared into the back as I served the snake juice, and then I moved down the bar and froze. Brad stood on the other side, just a couple feet away.

  “Let me say this before you kick me out.”

  I sent him a hard stare—the only reaction I felt he deserved.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “That’s it?” I raised my brows. “That’s all you came up with? ‘I’m sorry’?”

  “No, it’s just…I was drunk, and I know it’s no excuse, but I’m sorry. I’ve thought about it and I probably would’ve punched me too, had I been in his shoes. I’ve dropped the charges.”

  “Yeah, I know. The DA already told him.” I wiped down the counter and kept my face neutral, hoping he’d notice how unimpressed I was with his little speech. The lights flickered again and then went out. Voices drifted through the air, hushed excited chatter, as if the darkness demanded whispering. I jumped at the rumble of thunder that followed.

  “It’s pitch dark in here, Mac.”

  Chills traveled the length of my body. Brad’s voice sounded much closer, and just as I was about to panic, another bolt of lightning zigzagged outside the windows. The bar lit up long enough for me to spot the flashlight underneath the register. I grabbed it and aimed the beam at his face, my heart pounding as loudly as the thunder.

  “Crazy weather, huh?” he said.

  The doors to the back flung open, and my hands shook as I looked over my shoulder. Aidan joined me and rested his hand on the small of my back.

  “You have a lot of nerve coming in here,” he told Brad.

  “Since when do you work here?”

  “Since when is it any of your business?”

  Brad threw up his hands. “Chill out. I just came to apologize.”

  Aidan curled his fingers around my side. “Did he apologize?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Mission accomplished,” he told Brad. “Now get the fuck out.”

  “Yeah, forget it. I’m outta here.” Brad turned to go, but Aidan’s voice stopped him.

  “One more thing, Brad.” Once he had Brad’s attention, he continued, “I hope you told the sheriff about your argument with Six. You can bet I’ll mention it.”

  “I told the cops everything I know.”

  “What were you arguing about?” I asked.

  “Maybe your boyfriend can figure it out.” He stomped from the bar without another word.

  I let out a breath and sank against Aidan. He embraced me from behind, hands rubbing the gooseflesh from my arms.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You’re shaking.”

  “I don’t like the dark.”

  His fingers slid over mine and loosened my death grip on the flashlight. He held it up and aimed the light at the area underneath the register. “There’s gotta be some candles around here. Didn’t you guys have those flameless ones on Halloween?”

  With a hard swallow, I nodded and directed him to the cabinet he was searching for. Once the eerie fake flickers lit up the place, we tended to the customers while we waited for Mike, who showed up ten minutes later.

  “I called the power company. The good news is they’re working on it.”

  “And the bad news?” Aidan asked.

  “The bad news is they don’t know how long it’ll take. Might as well close down.” He commanded the attention of the customers and told them we were closing as soon as they finished their drinks.

  We got through our closing duties the best we could without power and exited through the back where Aidan’s car was parked. The downpour soaked us before we could get inside.

  “Do you think he did it?”

  “Brad?” Aidan glanced at me as he steered the car onto the highway. “I doubt it, but he knows something. Whatever it is, I’m guessing the sheriff knows about it too.”

  The drive to his house seemed longer than usual with the wind battling the windows. He pulled in front of his house and shifted into park, then dashed into the rain to manually open the garage door. Without power, an ominous chill permeated the night. By the time he returned, his hair was plastered to his forehead. He rolled inside, and we plunged into blackness the instant he shut off the engine.

  “I can’t see a thing,” I said, my jittery voice giving away my fear.

  He leaned toward me, and I heard the glove compartment pop open before a light switched on.

  I breathed a sigh of relief. “You must have been a boy scout. Flashlights, guns. Though I doubt they’d approve of the gun.”

  “Me neither.”

  “So what did you find out from Christie and her friends?”

  “Pretty much what I told Brad. The brunette saw him and Six shouting in her driveway. She didn’t stick around to hear what they were arguing about, but she did notice a white van.” Aidan squeezed my hand. “Your dreams are right on the money, Mackenzie. I don’t know what to do about this weekend, but we’ve gotta find a way to stop him.” He handed me the flashlight, and we both exited the car. Even with the beam lighting the way, the hall was suffocatingly dark.

  “I guess there isn’t much we can do tonight,” I said, “except go to bed.” I didn’t like the thought of going into that room alone. I wasn’t in the habit of sleeping with a nightlight, but the knowledge that I couldn’t turn one on thickened the air with anxiety.

  “Yeah.” We paused in front of the guest room. “You keep the fla
shlight.” He leaned toward me the slightest bit, and I wasn’t sure if he was going to kiss me or say something else, but whatever his intentions, he changed his mind. “Goodnight, Mackenzie.”

  “Goodnight.” I almost pleaded for him to stay, if only to hold me through the night, but I couldn’t bring myself to say the words. He headed down the hall, and I didn’t open the door until he vanished into his room.

  Every part of my body felt cold. I would have given anything to take a long hot shower, but I wasn’t about to venture down that dark hallway. I changed quickly and snuggled under the covers. The storm grew distant after a while, and I fell into a dreamless sleep until the thunder came back, until the noise morphed into the worst kind of nightmare.

  I sprang up in bed, and my sobs mingled with an explosion of thunder. Without a second thought, I went to Aidan’s bedroom.

  I inched toward his bed and stopped when the edge of the mattress connected with my thighs. A streak of lightning lit up his room, and for a second I watched him sleep, focusing my watery gaze on the movement of his chest. Only then did I allow myself to breathe. Relief flooded me, but then my dream hit me all over again and I choked back more sobs. I wrapped my arms around myself and let the tears fall.

  It had seemed so real. Then again, most of my dreams did.

  After a while my eyes adjusted to the darkness. The outline of his body moved, and he sat up, as if he sensed me standing there. “What’s wrong?”

  My lower lip trembled. “I need you to hold me.”

  He reached for me without hesitation, and I fell into his arms. “Another dream?”

  I nodded but didn’t trust myself to speak. Fear was a formidable foe—it choked me as surely as the Hangman would if given the chance. I clung to him, my fingers biting into his skin, afraid he might slip through them if I let go. I still saw him falling, replayed the horrible moment over and over again.

  “What did you see?” His unfailing acceptance of my dreams amazed me.

  I shook my head, as if denying anything was wrong would make it so. Denial wouldn’t save me from the vision of his dark eyes, lifeless in the doppelgänger of a face I loved more than anything. “Aidan,” I said, my voice cracking. I could say no more. Do no more. Except kiss him.

  There was no panic this time as our mouths came together. He held me against him, wrapping me in his protective power, and I’d never felt so safe or wanted. I gripped his face and slid my tongue deeper. Despite my protest, he pulled away.

  “Mackenzie, talk to me.”

  “No.”

  Our legs tangled as he pressed his body against mine. He thumbed away my tears, and I was suddenly conscious of the scant clothing between us. His boxers. My tank top and shorts. I sucked in a breath, hyper aware of his erection taunting me from beneath the thin layers.

  “I can’t stand it when you cry. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “You were dead.” I wished I could erase the words, paranoid that speaking them would make them true.

  A bolt of lightning brightened the room again, and his expressive eyes met mine an instant before he dropped his head. “I’m right here,” he said, his breath teasing my ear. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Though we didn’t voice it, the fear was there stifling the air. He couldn’t guarantee his safety any more than I could mine, and the fact that I’d dreamed of his death was something I suspected neither of us wanted to face.

  “There was a boom, like a gunshot, and you were falling. And your eyes”—I jerked at the crack of thunder that sounded overhead—“they were yours, but your face seemed different, like someone else’s.”

  “It was just a dream, probably from the storm.” His words ghosted across my skin, making me shiver all the way to my toes. He nibbled the curve of my neck, and his teeth scraped over my shoulder as he pulled down a spaghetti strap.

  “Tell me if you’re scared,” he said.

  I clung to his broad shoulders. Despite the chilly temperature in the room, his skin was hot to the touch. “I’m only scared you’ll stop.”

  “In an instant if you want me to.”

  “I don’t want you to stop. I just want you.”

  “You’ve got me.” He edged one side of my top down, over my breast, and dipped his head, lips hovering achingly close. “I want to kiss every part of you, if you’ll let me.”

  My breathing quickened, and my arms flopped to the mattress because the thought of his mouth all over me stole my strength. “Don’t stop,” I pleaded.

  He darted his tongue out, tasting, teasing, then finally sucked my nipple into his mouth. I almost came undone, arching into him with a swift intake of breath, body straining, about to turn to cinder.

  And he’d barely touched me.

  He got to his knees, settling at the juncture of my thighs, and slipped my top over my head. Planting his hands on either side of my face, he lowered his mouth and explored my breasts again, and the heat of his knees seared through my damp panties.

  I twisted the sheets in my hands, squeezed my eyes shut, and just felt.

  Felt his tongue dipping between my breasts, lower…lower still until he reached my belly button. His hands clamped down on my hips, holding me in place while he thoroughly explored my navel with his tongue. He cherished me with his kiss, held me steady in his capable hands, and I’d never experienced such vulnerability, such complete openness, as I did then.

  And he didn’t even have me fully naked yet.

  As if we were on the same wavelength, he pulled on my shorts and panties, and slowly inched them down my thighs, knuckles grazing my skin as his mouth followed suit. He kissed my hipbone, traveled the expanse of thigh, always a breath away from the raging heat between my legs.

  Legs that quivered in his hands. His strong hands that lifted my limbs and pulled my clothing free.

  Then he spread me wide open, his fingers curling around my thighs, thumbs pressing near the spot that was already dripping for him.

  Oh, God.

  Lightening lit the room again, and in that mere second, our eyes met. What a sight he was in that moment, sitting on his haunches between my thighs, his chest moving as rapidly as mine.

  Beautiful. I could find no other word to describe him.

  He shifted on the bed again, gripped my hips, and lowered his head between my thighs. My body jackknifed off the mattress, his name bleeding from my lips. I’d never known what it meant to be tortured with pleasure until then. He took me to the edge only to pull me back, again and again, until the edge shot higher with every whirl of his tongue, with every dip of his fingers, and he pushed me into the longest free fall of my life.

  Arching. I couldn’t stop arching, couldn’t stop digging my heels into the mattress, toes curling as I clawed at the sheets with desperate fingers.

  “Aidan!” I sobbed his name as a full body shudder tore through me. I wanted more of him, every inch of him. I didn’t know how long I lay there, trembling and gasping for air, my hands balling around the bedding, but when I opened my eyes, the outline of his face hovered over mine. He cradled my cheeks, his breath drifting against my skin as he kissed away my tears. I hadn’t realized I was crying until then.

  “You okay?” His voice, a hoarse timbre from his own need, ignited me all over again.

  “Better than okay.” I wrapped my legs around him and rubbed against his raging hard-on, unobscured by boxers.

  He exhaled on a groan. “I’d give anything to see you right now.” He lowered his forehead to mine. “Are you sure?”

  “Aidan, I’m gonna combust in about five seconds if you’re not inside me.”

  He let out a curse and pushed into me. I cried out, overwhelmed by the sensation of being joined. It felt so right, being with him this way.

  “Am I hurting you?”

  “No…you feel incredible.”

  “So do you,” he whispered.

  Our bodies moved like the tide, slowly at first, then with increasing tempo as raw need took over. Oh God…nothing ha
d ever felt so good. I would never tire of this, would never get enough of him. His hair brushed the sweat on my brow, and his breath was like a drug to my senses. I claimed his mouth and smothered a moan.

  His thrusts intensified, the chase for release taking over, and he jerked deep before going still. “Shit. I can’t hold back,” he ground out.

  “It’s okay. Let it go.”

  A long groan rumbled from his chest, and he pushed even deeper as he buried his face in my hair. My name was a sigh on his lips, a breathy vow that whispered through my heart and awakened it. I laced our fingers and held on, and as we plunged into surrender, our echoing cries outmatched the thunder.

  Aidan’s spot was empty. I sensed his absence before I opened my eyes. Footsteps moved around in the kitchen upstairs, and the aroma of coffee teased my nose. He must have been up a while.

  Smiling, I stretched, enjoying the way my body ached in places I’d forgotten about. I hadn’t slept so well since the first night he’d held me in his arms. There’d been no more dreams, just the sexiest man alive wrapped around me. The scent of him still lingered on my skin. I’d bottle it if I could.

  I searched for my clothes and pulled on my tank top and shorts once I found them on opposite sides of the bed. Nerves set in as I trekked upstairs. Would we become victim to the awkward “morning after” syndrome? I hoped not. After everything we’d been through together, the idea seemed silly.

  My body flushed the instant I saw him. He wore nothing but a pair of sweatpants. Standing in front of the stove with his back to me, he flipped an omelet with ease. My mouth watered, though it had nothing to do with the wafting smell of breakfast. He turned off the burner and transferred the omelet onto a plate and, almost as if he’d sensed my presence, turned around. A reassuring smile stretched across his face.

  Something about the way he stood there, shirtless and barefoot with a spatula in his hand, drove me across the room. I reached for him, reliving the amazing moment when he first thrust inside me, and pulled his mouth down on mine. The spatula clattered to the floor, and his arms came around me, pulling until I couldn’t discern where he ended and I began.

  He lifted me onto the center island and settled between my legs. “Food’s gonna get cold,” he breathed between kisses.