Lucky Streak (21 page)

“Right now, I don't give a damn about what happens to Marshall.” But he did understand what she was trying to convey. She was attempting to distance herself from her past and the people in it.
She wanted him to believe she'd changed, that she understood the error of her past actions and the type of people she'd associated with.

“Amber, do you realize how lucky you are? The man could have killed you. Or worse,” Mike said through clenched teeth.

“What's worse than killing…me…Oh…” Her voice trailed off and she turned pale, the blood draining from her face.

She suddenly understood all the things that had gone through Mike's mind when he realized she left his father's house. Assault, rape, heaven only knew what else. He'd seen a lot in his years on the force.

She swallowed hard. “I'm sorry I didn't listen. That I took off. I didn't mean to blatantly go against you, but I was going stark raving mad doing nothing for days on end. I'm a proactive person, Mike. I've been taking care of myself for years and I've never had anyone to rely on before, nobody else to consider before I acted.”

“If he'd gotten you alone—” This time
his
blood chilled at the thought.

She reached out and placed a warm hand on his arm. “He didn't. I knew better. I didn't even know he was in Stewart until I saw him in the diner window. And then I realized I had a choice. I could keep running…or I could face him and put this mess behind me. I chose a public place where he couldn't hurt me. I was smart, I swear.”

He ground his teeth so hard his jaw hurt. Pride in her bravery warred with lingering fear for her safety. He couldn't listen to her rushed rambling for another minute without feeling for himself that she was safe.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her hard against him, covering her lips with his. She melted into him, wrapping her arms around his neck, kissing him back.

Everything next happened in a blur, thanks to the blood rushing through his head—and to other body parts. He devoured her with his mouth, relief that she was home safe firing up his blood along with her eager, hot response.

He pulled her hat off her head and tossed it onto the floor, freeing the long curls from confinement. She yanked her glasses off and then she was back, kissing him again.

Undressing him.

She pulled his shirt up and over his head. Lowered his jeans and briefs around his ankles, leaving him long enough to grab a condom from his wallet, step out of one pant leg, then the other before she plastered herself against him once more. But it wasn't enough for Mike.

He needed to feel her heat, her warmth. He pulled her T-shirt up for skin-to-skin contact and realized she wasn't wearing a bra.

He gazed appreciatively at her full breasts and
darkened nipples before he yanked her against him with one hand. Flesh against flesh, heat seared him.

His groin pulsed between them, throbbing against her stomach. “Do you feel what you do to me?” he asked gruffly.

She grazed the head of his shaft, liquid coating her fingertips. She grinned. “Yeah, I feel it.” She tipped her head back and met his gaze, wickedness burning in hers. “Now it's your turn.” Her hands shook as she unbuttoned her jeans and quickly peeled them off along with her lacy underwear.

God, she was gorgeous.

“Feel what you do to me,” she ordered.

He slid one finger into her warm, feminine heat, finding her slick and wet. Ready for him.

He reached behind him and turned the lock on the front door, assuring them nobody would walk in. “You sure you want to do this here and now? Isn't it disrespectful?” he asked, only partially teasing.

She'd felt that way before and if he took one more step, he wouldn't be able to stop.

She pushed him against the wall and practically climbed him to get closer. “That was then. Edward was around the house somewhere. This is now. And trust me, if Clara actually managed to get him out, she won't bring him back for hours.” Amber treated him to a warm, wet, lingering, seductive kiss. “Are you sure you want to keep talking?” she asked.

Everything in him screamed for release. “Talk
ing's overrated.” He picked her up and carried her to the nearest couch, only to find it too narrow.

Amber laughed, the sound cushioning his heart in warmth. “At this point the floor works,” she said, panting with desire.

He lowered himself onto his back, shielding her from the hard surface. He took care of protection, then held out his hand.

She took it.

Amber lowered herself over him, positioning her thighs over his until her feminine cleft sat poised over him. Her eyes never leaving his, she slid home.

Inch by sweet, delectable inch, she enveloped him in wet heat until he couldn't think. He thought he groaned out loud, but he couldn't be sure, so hard was the blood rushing through his head, his ears.

And then she squeezed, contracting her internal muscles, pulling him into her very essence and he couldn't control the wave of emotion filling his body, his mind, his heart.

If only everything between them was this perfect, Mike thought.

And then she began to move, and rational thought fled with the silky-smooth viselike grip her body had on his. He cupped her breasts in his hands as she rode him, up and down, fast, seeking release. He was damn close himself.

But suddenly he didn't want it fast. He wanted to savor it and her. In case this was the last time.

Shaking off that thought, he bent his knees slightly, slowing her tempo. Her eyes opened wide and as she met his eyes, she must have read his mind.

Because as he slowly lowered his legs, she eased her rhythm. Changed it slightly. Slid down, milking him hard, then up again, pulling his shaft with her. She came down again, leaning forward as she did so, joining their bodies more firmly, intimately.

A soft sigh escaped her lips. “I like this,” she murmured, rocking against him before sliding up again.

Down, rock forward, back up.

Down, rock forward, back up.

Until her inner walls began to contract on their own, building everything inside him to an intense crescendo. Higher, higher, until she exploded around him, inside him, through him.

She'd taken him on the slowest, sweetest, most heart-stopping ride of his life.

One he'd never ever forget.

 

W
ITH THE
K
ING
B
OBBY
threat neutralized, there was no longer any reason for Amber to remain in Stewart. Whether there was a reason for her to stay with Mike remained to be seen. Amber dressed slowly, prolonging the moment and imprinting every second of making love with her husband in her brain and deep in her heart, which already belonged exclusively to him.

She glanced over her shoulder to see him pulling
on his jeans in silence. The only sound was the ticking of an old clock and their own heavy breathing.

She knew what she had to do. Amber had been brave once today. She looked at Mike, the long line of his back and his stiff shoulders, and knew she'd have to gather her courage one more time.

Because she wasn't leaving him without putting it all on the line, without taking the ultimate gamble. She drew a deep breath. “Mike?”

He turned to face her.

“You already know I'm a gambler, right?”

He met her gaze, his expression confused. He was obviously unsure of her point. “Right.”

She stepped up to him and tipped her head back to meet his eyes, to put herself on some kind of even footing. “We met in Vegas and gambled on marriage and the slots, so I guess it's only fitting I'm standing here now, gambling on you.”

“Amber…”

“No. Don't interrupt and don't panic. Just pretend you're back in Vegas and willing to take a chance.” Her heart squeezed tight in her chest, but she pushed on. “You already know how great we are in bed. Or out of it.” She pointed to the floor where they'd made love and laughed.

He didn't.

She knew then she didn't have a prayer. But her father hadn't raised a quitter. “It isn't just that we
started off strong sexually, though hey, that's a bonus. And we also like the same TV shows.” She searched his face for a glimmer of emotion, but all she found was the wall she'd come back to in Boston.

“Look,” she continued anyway. “Somewhere between you rescuing me from Marshall the first time and now, we've discovered something good. Fun. Something that could be real and lasting if we gave it a chance.” She reached for him, but his stiff posture never changed. She let her hand fall uselessly to her side.

Her heart, which minutes before had been full of hope, seemed to be shriveling into a small ball of nothing. Pain shot through her, but she forced herself to go on.

“Mike, even if we can't have anything lasting—” Her voice nearly cracked on the words. “Can you at least find it in your heart to forgive me for leaving you in Vegas? Taking the money? Knowing me the way you do now, can we at least part as friends?”

The word nearly killed her. Friendship was the last thing she wanted from him, but it was better than the disgust he'd felt for the woman she'd once been.

He cleared his throat and the pain in his eyes matched the hurt inside her. “Amber, being with you has been—”

She raised her hand in the air, cutting him off, un
able to bear hearing more. “Please don't say anything else.”

“I have to. Because you need to know that I do care about you.” His expression was tight and tortured, his eyes bleak and devastated.

Yet whatever pain she glimpsed inside him didn't change the fact that he was obviously going to end things. “Don't tell me you're afraid of the curse. I won't believe it.” She tried to laugh, but couldn't.

“Of course not. That's my father's job. He's the one who ran away from life.” Mike glanced away from her.

“And what are you doing, if not running away?” she accused, trying to pull him back.

He shook his head. “It's not the same. You see how my father is. That's how he's been for as long as I can remember.” Mike paused and cleared his throat.

Amber caught the fullness in his voice and didn't push him further. She had to let him tell her in his own time.

“I couldn't live with the ups and downs he caused when I was a kid. I hated it. So my mother took me away, making sure I had stability. I need that stability.”

Amber swallowed hard. She'd understood his feelings about Edward, his fears about living with someone whose actions and moods he couldn't count on from one minute to another. It was the way she'd felt living with her father after his diagnosis.

“I can give you that,” she said softly. “Maybe I haven't so far, but once things are settled in my life, that's exactly what I want, too.” She touched his face, turning him toward her. “I lived the same way once. I had a steady job I loved working for the Crown Chandler Hotels and I was great at what I did. I want you to see that part of me!”

“I want that, too, but it can't work. We're different, you and I. You said it yourself in Vegas. You need that thrill every once in a while and frankly, I don't. The ups and downs you bring with you…they're just not how I want to live.”

Amber's heart beat hard and a sick feeling settled in her stomach. “I don't need those kind of ups and down. I was talking about how you make me feel. That's all the thrill I need.”

“You like unpredictability, you thrive on it. I saw how easily you left me in Vegas. No matter what your reasons were, you jumped first and explained later.”

She pulled in a deep breath and tried to think. He was right. Abandoning him in Vegas and taking his money had ripped the foundation out from under any relationship they might have had. “I would never do that again.”

But she already saw in his bleak expression, her words didn't matter. Her past actions did.

“You don't think so now. But you don't know what the future holds.” He grabbed her hands.
“Being with you, though it's fun and exhilarating, it's also like a roller-coaster ride.”

She remembered his words in Vegas all too well.
“I really don't like roller coasters. In fact, I hate them.”
And hearing them now applied to her was like a punch in the stomach.

She stiffened and turned away. “I get it, Mike. We both know how you feel about roller coasters.” She paused and forced the pain back down her throat before continuing. “It's too bad though, because we could have had it all.”

Gathering her pride, she turned and headed for the bedroom to pack. “Make sure you call the psychiatrist for your father,” she said before closing herself alone in the room.

She needed to get the hell out of Stewart and let Mike Corwin return to his safe, certain, stable life.

The one without her in it.