Hidden Flames (18 page)

“Let’s see if we can get you to that second round you mentioned,” Owen said, leaning a knee on the bed as he towered over her. Prue hadn’t realized how cold it had gotten until his heat covered her. She widened her legs and accepted him, relishing in the slight burn his cock was creating as he slid into her. “Heaven.”

Prue agreed and had to bite her lip to keep from crying out. She didn’t want anyone still in the neighborhood to think someone was being attacked when she was just experiencing the best sex she’d ever had. Owen raised his upper half and drove himself into her the rest of the way, stilling long enough so that she could actually catch her breath. Was it possible for another human being to be made to fit so perfectly inside of another, like a cashmere-lined butter-soft glove?

“Don’t move yet,” Prue finally managed, holding onto his shoulders and looking up to find that Owen was watching her intently. His smoldering brown eyes ratcheted up the heat and her pussy contracted around his shaft. She would have smiled if she could have at the way his jaw tightened, alerting her that he’d felt every squeeze. He leaned far enough down that he could kiss her without moving any other part of their bodies. The mint from his toothpaste made her realize that’s why her pussy had been tingling the entire time he’d gone down on her. It was a hot, yet cold sensation that she’d enjoyed immensely. Her clit was now throbbing in time with her heartbeat, craving another release. “Move.”

“So indecisive,” Owen murmured against her lips while obliging her current request. He gradually pulled out of her and then just as slowly reentered her. It was agonizing pleasure that she wanted more of, especially when she felt his thumb graze her nipple. “Wrap your legs around my waist.”

Prue did as he asked, crossing her ankles on his lower back. It opened her up more and soon he had a rhythm going that carried her higher and higher. The second round she’d requested came just as quick as the first, although this one lasted a hell of a lot longer because this time he didn’t stop. In and out, over and over, he thrust into her reaching new depths. It was the longest release she’d ever experienced, or was it several? She was surprised when she actually felt his shaft swell, indicating his release in multiple spasms. She’d never felt that so distinctly before, which just showed her how perfectly made they were for each other.

Owen rested his forehead on her, both of them catching their breath and letting their heart rates return to normal. She’d once read that having sex was equal exercise to running five miles, but she was positive that with Owen it was at least twice that. He gently kissed her forehead and then lifted off of her, snatching up her bedroll that she’d placed on the floor and covering her over so that she remained warm. She’d never had someone take care of her the way he was, and she tucked the thick material underneath her chin as he went into the bathroom to clean up while thinking about how different her life had been two days ago.

It took Prue a moment to realize that she was still lying horizontal across the bed when Owen returned with a raised eyebrow. She shifted and waited for him to join her, wondering how he would want to sleep. Did he prefer to hold a woman by his side or spoon her from behind? What if he was the type who needed his space? These were the issues she had with relationships getting too serious, but her worries ceased the moment he pulled her to him. She noticed that he’d set his weapon directly on the nightstand, which also reminded her that those worries were meaningless in the broad scheme of things.

“Sleep for an hour?” Prue whispered, closing her eyes when the exhaustion became too much. She turned into him and rested her cheek on his chest, finding that she really, really liked being held. “The roads are going to be covered in ash.”

“Let’s grab a couple of hours, eat a hot meal, and then we’ll see how far we can travel without having to stop,” Owen replied, stroking her arm and placing an affectionate kiss on her forehead. Prue didn’t consider herself the sentimental type, but this was damn nice. “Deacon won’t be the only danger we’ll have to face and I want to make sure we’re rested well enough to handle the other threats that are out there waiting for us.”

“Remind me to replace the two knives that I lost.” Prue was so tired and yet her brain wouldn’t shut down, but she kept her eyes closed anyway. “I have one in my backpack.”

Prue listened to Owen’s steady heartbeat, taking comfort in the fact that they were alive and doing her best not to feel guilt over the lives that had been lost. Maybe that’s why she couldn’t sleep. She’d never taken a life before and though she didn’t regret saving her own…it was still hard to rationalize.

“There was no other way to handle that situation,” Owen said as if he’d read her mind. Prue was coming to think he actually could, but that puzzle was for another sleepless night. “Although in all my time in the service, I’ve never seen a knife thrown like that and actually hit its target. Did you learn that in college?”

Prue couldn’t help but smile at Owen’s question and once again wondered how he knew the things he did. She’d never put her college education on her resume, nor had she ever had reason to tell him that she had a fondness for knives. She rested her palm directly in the middle of his chest so that she could feel his even breathing. There was something so reassuring in the action.

“No.” Fond memories of time past slowly proceeded through Prue’s mind, reminding her that she’d had some good times as well. “High school was the only thing I had to get me through losing my mom and sister. I had a 4.0 average by the time I graduated and received a scholarship that I decided to accept. I didn’t have anything else to do and it kept me busy. A couple of friends went to a bar after freshman finals one night and I joined them because I hadn’t wanted to go home to an empty apartment.”

“Apartment?”

“I worked through college too. I wasn’t the most social and I was definitely not cut out for the dorm life hanging out with the sorority sisters, if you know what I mean.” Prue was starting to fade, but Owen deserved to know where she’d learned her skill, especially since she’d almost killed him with it. “It turned out it was a biker bar and that’s where I ended up spending most of my nights. I learned about bikes, how to defend myself, and managed to have a bit of a life. The man who taught me how to defend myself had a thing for knives, so that’s the skill I learned from him.”

“Interesting story,” Owen said softly, his chest vibrating and lulling Prue closer to that abyss of darkness. “I was wondering why you had a tattoo of a knife surrounded by daisies on your ankle. It’s not the average image you see on a woman’s leg.”

“Daisies were my mom’s favorite flower,” Prue murmured, unable to hear what Owen had said next.

Darkness enveloped her, although it wasn’t the warm blanket of obscurity she was used to. Prue’s sister was on the outer edge looking in through the ash that had taken its place in her dreams. Rosa wasn’t the beautiful woman she’d grown into, but instead the young girl that had been taken away at the age of three. Her little arms were outstretched, grasping for her older sister and no matter how hard she tried…Prue couldn’t reach her in time.

O
wen looked over
his right shoulder, making sure that Prue was sticking by him like glue. They were both still wearing their masks and she was wearing his helmet, losing their daily argument over who should be sporting it. The ash was coming down a little lighter now that they’d finally reached California, although he wasn’t sure how long that would last. It had taken them days to reach New Mexico due to abandoned vehicles, impassable roads, and desperate scared people. He’d finally been able to get word to Mav. Owen had given their location and was informed by Ernie the fact that the fishing lodge was now set up as a basecamp for the remaining town’s inhabitants.

“This is our exit,” Owen called out, putting on his blinker out of habit. There was no one on the roads to signal but Prue, with the exception of one or two lone vehicles every so many miles. There were hundreds of pedestrians on the sides of the roads though, with bandanas or rags over their faces and overstuffed backpacks on their hunched backs. It was heart wrenching to see their desperation, but even so, he’d made the decision to drive in the center in case anyone of them decided to try and reach out, catching their arm or bike handle thus causing an accident. “Rosa’s residence is around a mile off the interstate, on the edge of town.”

Owen led the way down the ramp and through the inoperative stoplight, wondering how Prue was feeling about seeing her sister after so many years. He’d discovered a lot about Prue over the last few days, proving his theory that she was nothing but a walking contradiction and he wouldn’t have it any other way. She was beyond intelligent, funny, sarcastic, brave, and resourceful.

Rosa had been adopted by a loving family, but unfortunately they’d chosen not to have their adopted daughter have contact with any remaining family for fear of her emotional health deteriorating after having lost her mother. They’d wanted no reminders and the small print in the adoption papers had seen to that.

Prue assumed that Rosa remembered nothing of her first three years, but her big sister wasn’t one to be kept down. She’d kept tabs on Rosa throughout the years through social media and other means that she’d alluded to not being legal, discovering that Rosa’s parents had suffered financially in the latest economic downturn. Prue had managed to set up a college fund anonymously, even going to the lengths of making it seem it had been in place since the adoption. No wonder Prue had lived in a shithole; but it showed her true character. She was more giving than anyone he’d ever met.

Owen drove through the small town, nothing remaining but abandoned buildings, vehicles, and houses. It didn’t appear the ash fall was heavy enough to collapse the roofs on the homes located on the outskirts of town, but it had certainly decimated what he imagined had been a serene neighborhood. He finally pulled up outside of a small home, the screen door hanging off of its hinges. That didn’t bode well and he switched off his bike, scanning the area for any immediate threats.

“I’ve seen pictures of what this place looks like in the summer,” Prue said, after having followed his lead and cut her engine. Ash drifted down like light snowfall, although it was darker and more sinister than the white fluffy stuff he’d experienced in Norway during one of his many deployments. They couldn’t stay here long, but Owen gave Prue another minute to brace herself for what they might find. “It’s a shame it now looks like this.”

They both got off of their bikes, but it was Owen who would go up to the house. They’d agreed not to leave the Harleys, supplies, or weapons unguarded. He adjusted his shoulder holster, making sure it was secure after having ridden for so long this morning. He noticed that Prue’s hand rested on the handle of her knife as she looked around the area. It was a ghost town that now served as a reminder of what once was.

“You don’t think she was one of the people on the highway, do you?” Prue asked hesitantly, but Owen knew she didn’t really want him to answer that.

He walked cautiously up the ash-covered walkway, stepping onto the porch, and listening intently for any sounds that might be coming from inside the house. There was nothing but silence and the slight crunching noises his boots made on the wood. He really didn’t want to enter this residence to find that Prue’s sister wasn’t here. He still made a fist and knocked his glove-covered knuckles on the door, ignoring the open screen entry, not wanting to walk in for fear that someone would pull a trigger without knowing who they were shooting at. No one replied to his loud rap, so he closed his hand over the doorknob and slowly turned it so that he finally had access to the house.

“Don’t shoot,” Owen called out, his voice seemingly echoing off of the walls. He waited for a reply. Nothing. “Rosa? My name is Owen Quade and I’m here with your sister to take you someplace safe.”

Owen waited in the doorway for another minute before guardedly walking into what appeared to be a formal living room. He’d switched on the flashlight to get a better look, noticing that the inside was a beautifully kept home. There was nothing eerie about it, regardless that the outside looked like a setting in those horror flicks Prue was always talking about.

The furniture was a nice solid oak with floral patterns on the fabric. Family pictures hung on the wall and he was grateful that Prue had stayed outside with the bikes. She didn’t need it rubbed in her face that Rosa had most likely forgotten about her.

Owen continued straight, past a staircase to a small kitchen with a square table in the middle of the tiled floor. There was a pantry off to the side of the white refrigerator that appeared empty, giving him an idea that Rosa and her adoptive parents went to search for better sanctuary. He shined the beam around the room to make sure he didn’t miss anything before checking out the remainder of the house. He easily found Rosa’s room and came to the conclusion that she still lived with her parents. Drawers had been left open with most of the clothes gone, presumably packed. He backtracked and looked into her parents’ bedroom, finding the closet mostly empty as well.