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Laney awoke sometime later in the night, and answered the call of Mother Nature. A wash of moonlight spilled through the window, highlighting Riser’s relaxed and boyish features. She couldn’t resist trailing her fingers through his hair, before easing out of the bed. She half expected him to wake instantly, but all he did was grumble, swinging an arm out over her now-vacated spot on the bed beside him.
Careful not to wake him, she tugged on his T-shirt, tiptoed to the bathroom to take care of her most urgent need, and then made her way to the kitchen to search out a cup of water. Tonight’s lovemaking sessions had been more of a workout than she’d pulled off in years. She yanked the refrigerator door open, took out a bottle of water, and downed half the contents in one long, satisfying gulp.
Maybe she should take one for Riser too? Surely, she wasn’t the only one in need of a little rehydration. The thought made her feel a little saucy, a little like a vixen…. She’d taken him with just as much ferocity as he had taken her. Riser hadn’t held back in vocalizing his pleasure. And he hadn’t turned from her either, once he’d achieved completion. As a matter of fact, he’d held her even closer, as if he enjoyed the cuddling as much as the sex.
That experience was so completely foreign to her, and to have it happen in the midst of this whole ordeal… Mark had never held her, and toward the end, he hadn’t tried to pleasure her either.
Even before the first beating, Laney had started trying to avoid sex with her husband if she could. His rough, quick tumbles had often ended up being more painful than pleasurable.
So completely unlike her experience with Riser.
Her entire core squeezed at the memory of how deeply he’d sealed her. And she hadn’t failed to notice that he’d made sure she was taken care of before seeking his own release. As a matter of fact, he laid her out on the kitchen table like dinner and devoured her.
Laney unconsciously crossed to that table now and trailed her fingers over the smooth surface, growing wet just from being near that sturdy prop.
She didn’t have much time with him, and after this mess with Mark was finally cleaned up, he’d be gone again, off on another mission, and Laney would resume her normal daily activities of serving beer and taking care of her daughter. That was what was going to happen, but it hadn’t happened yet. They still had tonight, and she wanted to live out this adventure to the fullest.
She could either let fear rule her, or could she find the courage to go in there and wake the sex god who was snuggling her pillow and demand another round.
The thought left her trembling, not out of fear but from a flood of desire. He hadn’t minded at all when she’d taken control and ridden him hard and fast. He’d encouraged her, spurring her on, like he was turned on by her actions.
Yes, she was tender from the rough sex, but it was a sweet ache that she would savor in the following days.
She wanted him. Right now. She was powerless to do anything besides wait out here in the cabin until they contacted the sheriff and the judge—a powerlessness that would drive her mad if she let it—so she might as well spend as much time as she could in the pleasure of his arms.
Laney made to move from the table but then her purse vibrated, signaling a phone call. Still half dazed, thinking about the man twenty feet away from her, she fumbled through her purse in the darkness and held the phone to her ear. “Hello.”
“This is the nurse at Red River Hospital. I was hoping to contact Lily’s mother.”
Laney gripped the phone and pressed it harder against her ear, the drunken haze of pleasure receding in a rush. “Yes, is she okay?”
There was a short pause, and then the nurse said in an unsympathetic voice, “I know you kidnapped that little girl, and honestly I don’t want you anywhere near her, but—”
Laney’s hands went numb with fear, the cold from the hardwood floor seeping up through her bones and saturating her heart until it was painful to breathe. “But what?”
“There was a problem with the surgery, a complication. She had blood type AB-. We don’t carry that here because it’s so rare. You are the only one who we can be sure is a viable candidate to donate,” the nurse paused, “That is if you really are her mother.”
“What happened?” She didn’t bother trying to keep the desperation out of her voice; it was impossible. Her mind churned up a mad jumble of terrifying scenarios, all involving Lily near death, alone and reaching for her mommy who wasn’t there.
“She started bleeding in surgery and we are having trouble getting it under control. If she doesn’t get blood soon, she may die.”
“Die” was the only word Laney managed to catch, but it was enough to drain all the strength from her body. She sunk into the chair behind her. “No one else is there?”
Had Mark not showed up yet? Had enough time passed that he really didn’t care about Laney’s betrayal? About the daughter he’d almost injured that night?
The nurse made a sound of annoyance before answering, “No one who can donate. You need to get here right away.”
This could all be a trap. Mark could be using her daughter to lure her to him. If it was a ploy, it was a good one. Laney wouldn’t be able to say no, even if it meant her own death. She couldn’t take chances with her daughter’s life.
“Ma’am, are you coming?”
Laney squared her shoulders and stared through the window next to the table at Riser’s truck. Her gaze fell on the shiny set of keys hanging right next to the door. “I’m on my way.” She disconnected the call and carefully set the phone down.
Heart pounding and stomach tighter than a bowstring, she snuck into the bathroom, not turning on any lights, and got dressed in her dirty clothes. Then she padded barefoot back out into the night. She couldn’t wake Riser; he wouldn’t let her go. He would just repeat what logic was trying to hammer into her brain at this very moment: this was almost certainly a trap set up by her husband.
Still, there was a twenty to thirty percent chance that something really was wrong with her baby. Riser probably wouldn’t understand, but that was enough to spur her into action. Even if it meant possibly losing everything. Even if it felt like a betrayal to take his truck.
She knew that Riser would wake and come after her the moment she fired up his truck.
She put the key into the ignition, hesitating only a second before she cranked it up and threw it in reverse. Then she turned the truck in his front yard, cringing a little—now, she’d gone and messed up his lawn, too—before throwing the car into drive and gunning it down the driveway.
She’d been in a state of confused shock on the ride here, but she was hardwired with an excellent sense of direction. The right turns had all registered in her mind, and in a truck with this kind of muscle, she could cut the drive time in half and make it back to the hospital before sunrise.
She shifted, the power of the engine vibrating her muscles and fueling her adrenaline. As she let her hand fall to her lap, her pinky brushed something hard. Riser’s pistol was tucked in a small holster between the seat and the low console.
Laney wrapped her fingers around the steering wheel with a grim satisfaction. She kept a gun in the house that she’d managed to pay cash for in a pawnshop, but she hadn’t been shooting in years. Still, she knew how to handle a Beretta. Mark had taught her that much; and it was a lesson she might actually get to use.