Defying the Odds (12 page)

Holy shit, that’s sexy!

If Clay didn’t fuck her, he was going to come all over her stomach, because this woman pushed all his buttons and turned him on in ways he hadn’t thought were possible. Karma was an asshole. Now he was the one shaking and desperate. His balls throbbed with the need to spill inside her. He lost all semblance of who he was, his vision narrowing to the simple, primal goal of claiming Melody and fucking her until they were both sated and spent.

Clay moaned into her mouth when she kissed him, her tongue pushing past his lips boldly. It made the need burn brighter. He thrust against her, blindly seeking a cure for the tension, his rock-hard cock sliding against silky skin. He would have asked, but he didn’t have to. Melody spread her legs wide to his need, wrapping them around his hips, her ankles hooking at his lower back.

With her tongue still claiming his mouth, Clay found heaven for a second time that evening. He slid into Melody, feeling her tight heat envelop him in bliss. He wanted to go slow, to take his time and savor her, but once wasn’t near enough to slake the pounding lust that sizzled between them. He wasn’t sure if a lifetime would appease the hunger that left him shaking with the rush of ecstasy that flooded his bloodstream as he buried his cock fully inside her.

Melody was shaking too, her hips pushing against his as she squirmed for more. Her kisses became low moans that reverberated through him, making him greedy and heedless of being gentle. He pulled out and thrust back in, this time hard enough to make Melody gasp from the force of it.

Clay couldn’t stop.

All he could do was move. He slammed his hips against hers, the slap of skin against skin blending with their moans and pants of pleasure. His palms were splayed wide on the comforter, his thighs straining from the force of his thrusts as Melody clung to his shoulders, her legs still wrapped tightly around him.

He might have tried to find sanity if Melody wasn’t wild right along with him. Every thrust had her crying out, “Please
please
please
,” as her nails dug into his skin.

The coil just wound tighter, the tension building and building until he was forced to reach down and cup her ass. He clutched the soft, round globe, holding her tighter against him, angling her hips for that next hard plunge. They both shattered, their bodies tensing at the same time, their cries serendipitous and perfect because if he was going to be this lost, he wanted to be lost with Melody.

Clay’s cock pulsed as he coated her pussy with his cum. The pleasure of it left him suspended in time as Melody’s body clenched around him. Even their climaxes felt in sync, like the beat of their hearts were meant to throb together.

The bliss felt like forever, which was more than enough time to steal his breath and energy in the aftermath. Clay’s arms shook in an effort to hold
himself
up and eventually gave out. He fell on top of Melody, who grunted under his weight. Knowing it was too much, he reluctantly rolled off her.

Clay lay there trying to catch his breath, his heart beating the hell out of his ribs. Recovery took longer than he wanted to wait to touch Melody. He reached out, wrapped his fingers around her upper arm, and tugged gently until she turned and draped herself over him.

“Nice.” Melody hummed, her cheek resting against his chest.
“’M, sleepy.”

“Then go to sleep.” Clay knew how hard she worked. Rest was precious when she was always working double shifts, and he wanted her to have as much of it as possible. “There
ain’t
nothing
stopping
ya
from closing your eyes.”

Melody took the suggestion and snuggled closer to him. Her legs tangled with his. Her cheek rubbed against his chest. Her hand petted and touched for a few minutes. It didn’t take her long to fall lax over him, her breathing evening out to the gentle rhythm of deep sleep. Clay was right there with her. Surrendering himself to the heaviness of gratified exhaustion was easy. He fell asleep, happy and sated, with Melody curled up in his arms.

Melody woke up slowly, which was nice. No blaring alarm clock, no stumbling exhaustion while she tried to get ready without falling asleep standing up. She savored the gentle rise to full alertness, her body still contented from the night before if not a little sore.

She rolled
over,
grabbing the pillow Clay had slept on, searching for his scent. It actually smelled disappointingly familiar, but she could pretend he hadn’t used her shampoo and body wash in the shower. She thought she smelled him underneath her bath products, and her eyes drifted closed once more.

She wasn’t disheartened to be alone. She knew Clay got up before the chickens to train. She wasn’t real sure
why
, but she was expecting it. That bouncing out of bed business was not for her. If she didn’t have to get up before noon, she wouldn’t. She didn’t have that inborn need to be productive before the sun rose, but Clay did.

How country was that?

She really wanted to go back to sleep and drift on waves of erotic dreams that were obviously an aftereffect of the mind-blowing evening with Clay, but real life started to intrude. She remembered her uniform still on the bathroom floor that needed to be washed before work. She’d have to get up now if she wanted it to be dry in time.

Her progress of getting out of bed and getting moving was leisurely, which was a nice treat all by itself. She tossed her uniform in the wash first thing, but then she stood by the kitchen counter in her bathrobe and fuzzy pink slippers sipping a cup of
sludgelike
instant coffee.

She was definitely asking Santa for a coffeemaker this Christmas.

Melody was still sipping her terrible instant coffee—the burn of it waking her up more than anything—when a knock sounded on the door. She set her coffee down and frowned, not expecting anyone. She was hoping it was Clay, but her past made her cautious.

“Who is it?” she called out when she got to the front door, knowing she needed a peephole.

“I have some documents for Mrs. Andrews.”

Melody stared at the door, an icy cold wash of fear swamping her system. The shock of it stole her breath. The fall from peaceful to
terrified
happened between one heartbeat and the next. It took her a few seconds to get acclimated. She’d gotten too comfortable with Clay, too used to feeling safe. She wasn’t accustomed to the terror anymore.

“Ma’am?”

“Sorry,” Melody said, still trying to get her bearings. She opened the door. It probably wasn’t the safest idea, but the reality was Justin wouldn’t have paid someone to grab her and then used her married name. He was craftier than that. She found a clean-cut young man bundled up against the cold, a clipboard in one hand and a thick manila envelope in the other. She pulled a face as she eyed him. “What
sorta
paperwork is it?”

He shrugged, looking irritated and desensitized by his job. He handed her the clipboard, and Melody signed for whatever he was delivering.

He handed her a package. “Enjoy your summons.”

“Summons.”
Melody gasped, hating that roiling swell of fear still churning in her stomach. “What am I being summoned for?”

Package delivered, he obviously didn’t have to answer her question. The young man turned around and left her standing in her bathrobe and fuzzy slippers in the open front door. While he walked down her driveway, she tore into the envelope. She pulled out the paperwork, seeing it was some sort of court date for a foreclosure, which would have concerned her if she owned a house, but she didn’t. She scanned the legal jargon until she found her name and address listed right underneath Justin’s information.

Uncaring of the freezing temperatures and snow-covered driveway, Melody raced after the deliveryman. Her fuzzy slippers were soaked and ice-cold, her robe wasn’t doing a very good job of combating the morning chill, but she couldn’t feel anything except heart-wrenching terror.

“Did he get one of these?” she called out as she came up on the man crawling into his car. “Did you deliver one of these
summons
with my address to him?”

“Who’s him, lady?” the guy barked, his polite disposition gone now that he wasn’t trying to get her to open the door.

“My ex-husband.”
Melody thrust the paperwork at him and pointed to Justin’s name above hers. “Did he get one of these? It’s really important that I know if he got one.”

“I don’t know.” He tucked his legs into the car in a silent dismissal of her. “I just do what I’m told, and they told me to drive way the hell out here and give that to you.”

“Listen to me,” Melody said slowly, the fear making her voice quiver. “If he has my address, I need to know about it because I have a restraining order against him. He wasn’t supposed to know where I am. I have no idea how you guys got this address. I don’t even know what house this is, but it’s really important that you find out if he knows where I am because that means I need to quit my job and move.”

The delivery guy looked at her, his gaze running over Melody standing there shivering in the cold in her robe and slippers. “What? You think he’s dangerous or something?” he finally asked skeptically.

“Look, I know it sounds ridiculous.” Melody sighed, her heart pumping panic through her bloodstream. “I know it seems like I’m just blowing things out of proportion—everyone thinks that—but I’m not. He threatened to kill me, and I’m inclined to believe he’s serious. If y’all can find out if he got one these files, I’d really appreciate it.”

The guy sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I guess I could call the office and find out if they were able to locate him.”

Melody took a quivering breath, her eyes stinging with tears. “Thank you.”

“Just
gimme
a minute.”
He reached past her to grab the handle to the car door, his gaze running over her body once more.
“Unless you want me to come in and make the calls there?”

Melody looked down at herself, remembering her robe. She’d slipped it on when she woke up, and she was completely bare beneath it. She clutched at the opening that dipped low, her anxiety and suspicion in full gear.

“I’ll just go put something else on,” she said rather than take him up on the offer. She turned to leave, her cheeks burning. “Just knock.”

“Whatever, lady.”
He huffed, sounding irritated.

Melody raced back up to the house, being careful not to fall. The driveway was covered with only a thin sheen of snow. Someone had shoveled a few hours ago. The yard showed evidence of the night’s snowfall. Knowing it was Clay who’d taken the time to do the dreaded task for
her,
it took more strength than she knew she had not
to
warm to the idea of depending on him. A part of her was desperate to call the
Cuthouse
Cellar right now. She wanted Clay near to make her feel safe and secure once more, but this morning showed that letting down her guard left her wide open to being blindsided when the reality of her life came back to slap her in the face.

She locked the door when she was inside and then hurriedly dressed, her fingers shaking as she tried to button her jeans and hook her bra. She should be worrying about getting the hell out of Garnet. Finding a new town was going to be challenging when she had so little saved. She’d lucked into the job at Hal’s Diner and the kindness of strangers in Garnet. She couldn’t count on it a second time. She’d thought she’d have more time. She’d only set aside a third of her tips when she should have stashed much more than that. But the lack of funds wasn’t what was weighing heavily on her mind.

All she could think about was Clay.

She was going to have to leave. She was going to miss him. Worst of all, she was going to hurt him. Tears were running down her face by the time she pulled on a thick sweater and sat on the bed to put on a pair of socks.

A knock reverberated through the house, forcing Melody out of her miserable reflections. She jumped up and dashed to the door. Rather than welcome him in, Melody stepped up next to the deliveryman and closed the door behind her.

“Did you hear anything?”

“They haven’t found him,” he said simply. “They’ve been trying at the house listed, but it’s always empty. It looks abandoned.”

Melody nodded as she tugged nervously at her hair, still hanging loose around her shoulders. “And they don’t have any leads?”