Snowball's Chance Read online

  His skin gleamed and she couldn’t resist sinking her fingers into the crisp dark hair that V’d from his chest down to a narrow ribbon to disappear into his jeans.

  She reached for his belt buckle again, but he saved her fumblings by standing to practically rip his pants off his body. The firelight behind him limned the dark silhouette of his body in bronze as he kicked off his boots before stripping. It was a spectacular show. He grabbed his pants up off the floor and dug in a pocket for his wallet. Kendall hadn’t given a single thought to birth control. He pulled out a small foil square.

  “You carry condoms around with you?” Not that she wasn’t eternally grateful, but the fact that he was such a Boy Scout gave her pause. Was he always ready for a quick lay? Worse yet—when had she become a quick lay?

  “Let me put it this way,” he told her stretching out beside her and pulling her back into his arms, the small package in his hand. “Condom. There’s no plural about it.” He trailed the foil up and over her breast making her nipple ache for a firmer, more personal, touch. “And this damn thing is so old I’m not going to guarantee its reliability. Still game?”

  Since he asked the question with his lips against her throat, and his hand sliding purposefully up her inner thigh, Kendall managed only to push out the word, “Now!” He brushed his lips around the curve of her ear, causing every nerve in her skin to come alive, and nudged her knees apart. “Is that an all systems go?”

  She wanted to say something clever and witty, but she barely had enough breath to demand, “I want you inside me. Now.” And just in case her urgency wasn’t coming through loud and clear, she slid her hand down his hip, then wrapped her fingers around his penis. He was hot, silky, and hard. She stroked her thumb over the head until he groaned. “I want to explore every glorious inch of you, Miss Metcalf, but that pleasure will have to—” He groaned as her fingers tightened around him, “—wait.”

  Like the rest of him, Joe was a big guy. He had big—hands. He slid two fingers inside her, moving them in intense circles, massaging and testing her readiness. Kendall shuddered, moving her hips against his hand in jerky, involuntary motion. She was wet, swollen, and desperate, and several stages beyond ready. “Talk about chatty—”

  With a huff of laughter, Joe withdrew his hand to settle his narrow hips between her spread knees. She had a moment’s pause to feel the sheer size of him —there— before he pushed inside.

  He hissed out a shuddering breath as he buried himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust, then lay still. And Kendall was grateful. The sensation of Joe inside her was so piercingly sweet, so monumental, that she couldn’t move either.

  “Okay?” he asked, voice rough against her ear.

  She smiled against his throat. “Better than.”

  “Wrap your legs around me.”

  “I was getting there,” she groused, her voice thick as he pushed himself impossibly deeper. She walked her heels up his back, feeling gloriously invaded, and kissed his jaw as he started to move.

  Pinned down by his not inconsiderable weight, her legs tightened as he moved his big, powerful body inside hers. She felt alive, supernaturally so as she ached and burned and shuddered in his arms.

  Their lovemaking transcended anything Kendall could ever have imagined even in her wildest dreams. Their bodies were perfectly matched. Yin and yang. The waves of pleasure crashed and churned until she went blind and deaf, her entire being focused on where they were joined. She was being helplessly urged higher and higher, impossibly higher, on a tidal wave of sensation.

  The wave broke, huge and powerful, flinging her into sweet oblivion.

  6

  Joe rose and pulled on his jeans. He didn’t have to explain why, and even though she was disappointed, Kendall didn’t have to ask. He handed her his sweater. “As much as I’d rather have you warm and naked, put this on. Hang on a sec—” He leaned over to brush a kiss to each breast before she covered them. It was sweet and silly and her heart swelled with emotion as she finished pulling his sweater down over her warm body.

  She closed her eyes briefly. The soft merino wool smelled of him. Joe sat beside her on the bed, using both hands to slowly draw her damp hair out from under the neckline.

  “Can you come back to bed?” Kendall asked hopefully. He was playing with her hair, lifting and dropping the long strands as if fascinated by the color and texture. Apparently there was a direct route from the hair follicles on her scalp to all her girl parts. She wanted him again with a need that surprised her.

  His hesitation was almost negligible before he stretched out beside her on top of the covers, tucking her against his side. Kendall rested her head on his chest and draped her arm over his waist. She snuggled her cheek against the crisp hair underlain by his hot skin. He smelled so incredibly good she wanted to bottle him.

  “Will you sleep?” she asked, letting her fingers explore the deep grove of his spine and the bands of taut muscles and satin-smooth skin of his back. Touching him was sheer pleasure.

  “Tomorrow. But you go ahead. You said you needed at least five hours to fire on all cylinders. You have time. Get some rest.” He reached over and repositioned his gun on the bedside table beside him, then pulled the covers up, tucking them around her back.

  Kendall found the perfect spot to rest her cheek in the curve of his shoulder. Joe glided his hand under the sweater to rub her back in slow, lazy circles and her muscles relaxed as she hovered close to sleep.

  It seemed as though she’d just closed her eyes, but she woke with a scream and bolted upright in bed. Disorientated and shaking, she looked around the dimly lit bedroom as if she’d never seen it before.

  Beside her Joe said softly, “Bad dream?”

  Eyes dark and haunted, she nodded, making her hair slide over her shoulders. “He’s out there.”

  “No, he’s not,” he said with conviction. “Come here, sweetheart.” He pulled her back down into his arms. “Roz called to give us an update not an hour ago, remember? He was last seen in Nimrod. That means he’s at least five hours away, on a good day. And that’s only if he manages to commandeer another vehicle. If the storm lets up. If he isn’t stopped by one of the roadblocks between here and there. Everyone is looking for the son of a bitch, honey. He won’t get anywhere near you. I promise.”

  “He doesn’t have to be anywhere near me to scare me spitless,” Kendall said tightly. She was shivering hard now. Joe tightened his arms around her and rubbed her back in long, soothing strokes. He wished like hell he were touching her bare skin, but this had to be enough. For now.

  “How did you get away that night?” he asked, tightening his arms around her. He knew, of course. It had been in the transcripts. But he wanted her to remember taking action. To remember that she hadn’t been helpless.

  “I’d lost track of time. There was tinfoil over the windows, and I had no idea if it was day or night. Or how long he’d h-had me. He kept me chained to the handle of the oven. There was—b-blood all over me—”

  Shit. Bad idea. “But you managed to outsmart the sick fu—bastard and get away, didn’t you?” His own stomach lurched at the thought of the cuts on her body and how terrified she must’ve been.

  “He said, ‘I’ve enjoyed our time together, Kendall,’ and took a key out of his pocket. I thought—Oh, God. I thought—He’s going to kill me with a key. I was so freaked, I believed he could’ve done it, too.” She was breathing fast, and Joe rocked her against his chest, listening to her erratic breathing. Fury blazed in his belly as she talked.

  “But he opened the padlock on the chain. He showed me the special knife in one hand and hoisted me up off the floor. He needed me standing. He wanted to add my blood to his wall of s-splatter.”

  Christ.

  “He considered himself an artist,” she said bitterly. “I was his medium. He told me … told me that I had to be positioned just right so that when he sliced my artery, the spray of blood would add to
the mural he’d been creating on the—the wall of the trailer.”

  The mural that had the blood of more than a dozen other women dried on it. A challenge for the forensic teams to unravel the DNA. “Jesus, sweetheart. I’m sorry. So sorry. But you beat him at his own game. You got away.”

  Bleeding from dozens of cuts, she’d still had the fortitude to pick up the open padlock from the floor where Treadwell had dropped it. While Treadwell angled her for best effect, then started to cut her throat, Kendall, despite considerable blood loss, had managed to smash him in the face with it. Then she’d run.

  When a passing motorist had almost driven over her, he’d called 911 about the dead body sprawled in the middle of the road. The Good Samaritan had, thank God, made the call, but Kendall had almost bled out because the man had stayed in his vehicle until the cops arrived.

  “Yes.” She burrowed tightly against Joe, shaking hard enough to shatter. “I got away.”

  At what cost? Joe thought, wrapping her in his arms and holding her tightly. Damn. He hated that he was in a hurry-up-and-wait position. He didn’t like not having options. He had a fantasy of getting Kendall to safety, then returning to the house to wait for Treadwell himself. One on one.

  Before the cops arrived and made a nice, polite arrest, Joe wanted just half an hour with the son of a bitch. Just long enough to give Dwight Gus Treadwell the punishment he so richly deserved.

  He listened to the storm die down beyond the sealed windows and checked the safety on the H&K.

  He could tell she was too agitated to remain in bed. She was antsy. Hungry. No, thirsty. They went down to the kitchen, Joe wearing only jeans, Kendall wearing nothing but his white sweater. Her long, pale legs and unfettered breasts did amazing things for his favorite sweater. He found everything about Kendall Metcalf sexy. From her incredible red hair all the way to her slender feet and bright red toenails. And pretty much everything in between.

  Carrying the extra oil lamp, they took the radio downstairs with them so they could keep apprised of the weather situation. Dim nightlights, powered by the generator, glowed throughout the house.

  They stood at the center island in the semi-darkness eating cookies washed down with eggnog. Then Kendall decided she needed protein, and ripped off chunks of turkey breast, feeding them to Joe as he leaned a hip against the counter, supporting her body against him.

  “Hear that?” She lifted her head. “The wind’s dying down. Let’s go now.”

  He felt the same urgency. But going out in that would be suicide. He shook his head, looping a long strand of fiery hair behind her ear. “But it’s still blowing hard enough to knock us off our feet if we ventured outside. Sorry, honey. We have a few more hours to wait.” He rubbed his hands up and down her arms. “Let’s get you back in bed. You’re shivering.”

  She gave him a flirty look under her lashes. “You could warm me.”

  Where the hell had this woman been all his life? “I could, yes.” Joe slid his hands to her hips and started bunching up the sweater. It skimmed up her bare body like some kind of fantasy, making him hard and hot.

  With a laugh, she spun out of his hands and dashed across the kitchen. “I don’t want to make love on this cold tile floor.” She hesitated in the doorway, a silhouette in the darkness. “Race you upstairs.”

  Joe bit back a smile. “I’ll give you a seven-minute head start.”

  “Show-off.” Her voice faded, and he heard the soft thuds of her running footsteps as she sprinted across the great room.

  She was easy to catch. She wasn’t running very fast.

  He caught her by the waist when she was on the fifth step. She giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck as he took her down. He fought to drag his sweater over her head, while she wrestled him for his jeans. Her long hair clung to the white wool as he tossed the sweater aside, leaving her bare and beautiful.

  Her mouth curved, and her pretty eyes glittered up at him as she lay naked on the stairs. She started to laugh. “You know this is physically impossible, don’t you?”

  His mouth silenced her. Nothing was impossible.

  He braced his hands on the riser on either side of her head as her knees came up to hug his hips. Her hips lifted to greet his first thrust.

  It was over in minutes, leaving them with ragged breath and sweat-dampened skin.

  He sucked in deep, gulping breaths, somehow managing to position himself so that while he was still inside her, he wasn’t squishing her against the hard wood of the steps.

  “Okay?” he asked, opening his eyes a crack.

  Pushing hair off his forehead, she grinned. “Better than. But I think I have bruises on my butt—” She screamed playfully as he turned her over to lavish kisses on her delectable ass.

  His jeans rang. He fumbled to reach them, then flipped them to reach his back pocket and the chiming cell, bringing the phone to his ear. “Yeah?”

  Cradling her cheek on her folded hands Kendall let herself drift. She was limp as a noodle with a mixture of pleasure and exhaustion. While he talked, she stared through the open risers beneath her at the unfinished Christmas tree below in the great room. Not that it mattered at this point, but still—

  And while she was lying here—not that she’d noticed while they were in the throes—but now that she wasn’t otherwise occupied, she felt each individual plank of wood across her upper chest, midriff, hips, thighs, and shinbones, just as she’d felt them all the way down her back earlier.

  She found just enough energy to turn over, then to clamber over his long, rangy body. Let him take the brunt of the hardwood for a while. He shifted beneath her, getting comfortable, as he talked to Roz. Kendall whiled away the time by kissing his throat, his jaw, his mouth, and wherever else she could reach without expending any more energy than necessary. He moved the open cell phone accordingly. “Yeah. ’Preciate it, thanks, Roz.”

  He snapped his cell phone closed. “They’ve managed to clear part of the road up here. The local cops are on their way.” Before she could move, Joe scooped her up and carried her upstairs.

  “Very manly,” she murmured admiringly, looping her arms about his neck and laying her head on his chest. Fortunately, all of her clothes were upstairs.

  7

  They dressed and, taking the radio with them to listen to the weather, went downstairs to wait for the police to arrive. The house was icy, and Joe considered lighting the fire in the great room. But they wouldn’t be there long enough to get the benefit.

  Kendall had left a pair of bright blue, fur-lined, knee-high boots in the hall closet, and she plopped herself down on the area rug to pull them on.

  Joe held out his hand to pull her up when she was done. “Man. I’d give a year’s pay to see you in those—and nothing else.”

  “Yeah?” Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes as she came up beside him in a smooth move he had to admire. “That can be arranged.”

  “I’ll consider that a promise and take a rain check. Here.” He took her coat from her. “Let me help you with that.” The yellow down coat made her look like a fluffy chick. He took the opportunity to gather her luxurious hair in one hand as she shrugged the garment over her shoulders.

  He put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. He knew she was scared, and he wasn’t going to diminish that emotion by pretending he wasn’t aware of her feelings. As much as he sympathized, her fear would keep her on her toes. He should be feeling a mild form of relief at this point. The storm had relented enough for them to leave. He had ample backup and the means to leave quickly, and there had been no reported sightings of Treadwell for almost five hours.

  Instead Joe felt a tightening at the back of his neck. There was the sense—the anticipation—of impending danger. Something was off.

  Treadwell was close.

  Following her into the kitchen, Joe tugged on his own heavy coat, then picked up his hat and gloves from where he’d left them the day before
. Hell. Was it only yesterday?

  “Want one of these oh-so-stale cookies? Neither do I.” She tossed the one she held back onto the animal plate as she passed. She opened the refrigerator. “No coffee,” she told him brightly. “But for that all-important caffeine jolt, how about a warm Coke instead?”

  She was babbling and pacing. “Pass,” he told her, buttoning his coat. “The cavalry should be here soon.”

  He snagged her arm as she passed, drawing her against him to cup her cheek. Her skin was cold, despite the thick coat she wore. “In an hour or less,” he promised her, “I’ll have you back in a warm bed. With a very hot me.” He brushed his mouth over hers. And then because, honest to God, he couldn’t keep his body parts off her body parts, he pulled her tightly into his arms and crushed his mouth down on hers.

  The kiss was short but filled with promise. Joe lifted his head, then went back in to rub his nose on hers in an Eskimo kiss. “This’ll be a hell of a story to tell our grandkids over the campfire, won’t it?”

  She narrowed her pretty eyes. “I hate camping.”

  “You’re young. Plenty of time to learn to love it. Kids like that sort of thing.”

  The doorbell rang.

  “Easy, sweetheart,” he told her calmly as she jumped at the sound of the chimes echoing through the house. “The cavalry, remember?” It was just after seven, and still dark outside. “Almost over. Got your gun?”

  When she patted a pocket, he smiled. “I’ll let them in. We’ll have our own personal army to accompany us to the chopper. And when he gets here, the local cops and the Feds can grab him.”

  Kendall wrapped a blue-and-yellow-striped knit scarf around her throat several times. The thing was a mile long. “From your lips to God’s ear.” She fished a pair of child-sized blue gloves from a pocket and pushed her hands into them. Strangely they fit.

  The doorbell rang again, urgently. Impatiently.