Chapter Fourteen #2
She stared at the blinking cursor on her computer screen, knowing the words wouldn’t come until Rawley arrived, so she retreated to the living room and turned on the TV, the flickering images casting eerie shadows across the walls, but her attention remained fixed on every creak and groan of the house as it weathered the wind and snow.
She perched on the edge of the sofa, every muscle tense, ears straining for the sound of Rawley’s truck in the driveway as the minutes crawled by like hours.
****
Rawley’s knuckles whitened on the steering wheel as his truck crept over the snow-blanketed roads. The tires crunched through the fresh powder, leaving twin tracks behind him. Skylar’s panicked voice still echoed in his ears, the tremor in it unlike anything he’d heard from her before.
When he finally reached her house, he pulled into the driveway where untouched snow sparkled like diamond dust under the winter sun.
The engine died as he shut it off and stepped out, his boots sinking ankle-deep.
Fat, wet flakes now tumbled from a pewter sky, clinging to his coat and melting against his face.
The storm had ambushed the county just minutes after he’d left the office, thickening with each passing mile.
The porch door open, and there stood Skylar, her blonde hair wild around her shoulders, her face pale. He quickly made his way to her and kissed her trembling lips, then enfolded her in his arms, feeling her heart hammering against his chest.
“I’ll look around. Go back inside, it’s too cold out,” he said, his breath forming clouds between them.
“Okay. Please be careful.” Her eyes were wide, pupils dilated with fear.
“I will. They don’t scare me and they know it, so they probably thought they would try to scare you instead.” His hand instinctively brushed the holster at his hip.
“Well, they’re not just trying. I’m terrified.” She hugged herself, shoulders hunched.
“I know, baby. Please, go back inside while I look around.” He squeezed her shoulder, solid and reassuring.
“Alright.” Skylar retreated, the door closing with a hollow thud.
“Lock it,” he called, and nodded with satisfaction at the metallic click that followed.
The pristine snow around the front of the house remained unmarked except for his prints.
He skirted the building, one hand hovering near his weapon, scanning the ground for disturbances.
Nothing along the right side. But as he rounded to the back, his stomach clenched.
There they were, deep impressions in the snow, a trail of boot prints and more than one.
“Son of a bitch,” he growled, the words hanging in the frozen air as he trudged back to his truck, snow crunching beneath his boots.
The evidence case felt like a block of ice in his grip as he returned to the tracks.
They carved a deliberate path toward the dense pine woods; their needles dusted with white powder near the spot where he’d collected those cigarette butts just days before.
He removed his phone from his pocket, fingers stiff with cold, and took photos from every angle, capturing the indentations before they could be erased by the relentless Montana winter.
Then he knelt down, opened the case, removed the Snow Print Wax, and sprayed each boot print with care, then filled them with the casting material that steamed slightly against the frozen ground.
Damn, that wind cut right through him like a blade.
After securing the evidence, he placed waxed papers over them to protect them from the howling wind that could disturb the prints.
He headed back to the house, his face numb, to wait for the casts to harden.
He stepped onto the porch, wiped the snow from his hat brim and the shoulders of his sheepskin-lined coat, then knocked on the door, the sound echoing in the stillness.
It opened and he stared at her, at those blue eyes framed by blonde hair that caught the golden light from inside, and knew he’d do anything to protect her.
“Come inside,” she said, her voice soft against the howling wind.
“Thanks.” He removed his hat, stepped inside to the blessed warmth and took off his coat. “Could I get a cup of coffee? I have to wait for the casts to harden. Being this cold, it could take up to twenty-four hours though, but I’ll check them in about twenty minutes.”
“Casts? So, there were prints out there?”
“Yes.”
“Let me get your coffee.” Skylar led him to the kitchen.
“Damn, it’s cold out with that wind slicing through the valley.”
“Yes, it is,” she said, rubbing her arms as if the mere mention brought a chill.
When his coffee finished, steam rising in delicate curls, she removed it from the coffee maker and handed it to him, their fingers brushing momentarily. He watched her fidget with the silver pendant at her neck.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing—” she started, her gaze dropping to the floorboards.
“Please don’t lie to me. I know something is on your mind and it’s not those men.”
“Partially it is,” she admitted.
“Partially?” He frowned.
She heaved a sigh that seemed to come from the depths of her soul. “Rawley, I think I’m going to go to my place in Sierra Nevada.”
His heart hit his stomach like a stone dropped in water. “For good?”
“No. Only until this is over. I can’t concentrate on my writing. I was doing fine this morning until I thought someone was out there,” she gestured toward the window where snowflakes danced against the glass.
“Someone was out there. Okay. I hate it that you want to leave, but I will get those men, Skylar. Maybe it is best for you to go for a while.” He sighed, the coffee suddenly bitter on his tongue.
“I don’t want to leave, but I can’t get anything done. I’m on a deadline.”
“I understand.”
Skylar smiled at him. “So, what should we do for twenty minutes?”
Rawley nearly choked on his coffee as he laughed. “Twenty minutes? You think I have that much stamina?”
Skylar’s eyes crinkled at the corners, her dimples appearing as she laughed. “Okay, for eighteen minutes then.”
“Hey, give me some credit here.” He shook his head.
“I’m teasing you.” Her voice softened, fingers brushing against the worn denim of his jeans. “It wouldn’t matter if it was a minute, I like being with you. I think we have amazing chemistry.”
He set his half-empty cup down on the kitchen counter, stepped closer until the scent of her enveloped him.
He reached out and took a few strands of her hair between his fingers, then leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.
The familiar spark ignited, electricity racing from his lips down his spine, warming him from the inside out like it always did any time he touched her.
****
Skylar stepped back, took his hand and led him to her bedroom, her pulse quickening with each step across the hardwood floor.
Once inside, she faced him, moonlight streaming through sheer curtains as she kissed his lips, tasting mint and coffee while her trembling fingers fumbled with the stiff fabric of his protective vest. He gently moved her hands away, removed the heavy vest and tossed it to the floor with a muffled thud.
She lifted his cotton T-shirt over his head, revealing tanned skin stretched over defined muscles, then unbuckled his worn leather belt, unsnapped his jeans, and yanked the zipper down with deliberate slowness.
She started to push them down his narrow hips, but he moved to the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight as he sat on the edge to remove his scuffed boots.
She stepped between his thighs, feeling the heat radiating from his skin.
“I want you so much, Rawley,” she whispered.
“I want you too. All the time,” he said, his eyes darkening as he stood and removed his jeans in one fluid motion.
Skylar’s breath caught in her throat looking at him, at the perfect V of his torso, the trail of dark hair disappearing into his boxer briefs.
He was in fantastic shape, all lean muscle and quiet strength, and she knew she’d miss him so much, the scent of him, the feeling of his body against hers, but it was best she got out of town for a while.
There was no way she wouldn’t return to him.
She gasped when he stood up and lifted her into his arms, her skin tingling where his strong hands gripped her thighs and back.
He placed her gently on the cool silk sheets, then walked to the end of the bed where he slowly peeled away her clothes, his eyes darkening with desire.
Then he crawled up her body like a predator, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses that burned against her flushed skin.
When he moved back down, his warm breath teased her inner thighs before his tongue slid through her slit.
She grabbed fistfuls of his thick, dark hair, the strands like silk between her fingers as she urged him on.
Her pleasure built like a gathering storm, every nerve ending alive with electricity until her orgasm crashed over her in pulsing waves, her cry echoing in the dimly lit room.
As she tried to catch her breath, her chest heaving, he kissed his way back up her trembling body, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that tasted of her essence.
She reached down between their heated bodies and wrapped her fingers around his hard cock, the skin like velvet over steel, making him groan deep in his throat.
He moved away, muscles rippling beneath his tanned skin as he reached for his discarded jeans, removed his wallet, took out a foil packet and handed it to her.
Skylar tore open the packet and rolled the latex down over his length.
He pressed his lips to hers again, swallowing her moan as he inched into her, stretching her deliciously.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, feeling the flex of his muscles beneath her calves as he started to move against her in a perfect rhythm.
God, how she wanted this man, needed him with every fiber of her being.