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“I’d like to kiss you,” said Hunter softly. “But I’d really like to try it without any lies between us.”
For some reason, that made her eyes burn, and she worried that tears had found their way to her eyes.
His thumb stroked along her cheek, terrible confirmation.
“I don’t remember how to do that,” she whispered.
A smile found his lips. “How to kiss?”
She squished her eyes shut and shook her head quickly. “How to be true.”
He kissed her eyelids, first the left, then the right. “Yes you do, Kate.”
She let a breath ease out and was surprised to find that it shook. She’d never spoken these words to anyone, and saying them now almost burned because the weight of her failure was behind them. “I didn’t kill the man who killed my mother.”
She was ready for him to dig, to ask why, to turn this into an interrogation. But he hesitated, his breath warm on her temple. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No. God, no.”
Then the cord of tension snapped, and his mouth found hers.
Hunter was fierce and gentle, but there was nothing aggressive about this kiss, nothing angry. This felt like a first kiss—not just with him, but . . . but ever. No pretense, no games, just a boy kissing a girl because of wildfire attraction.
And here, in the middle of nowhere, there was no need to shield their abilities. His power surged and whispered against her skin. The air chilled and warmed her simultaneously, but she felt heat in his touch. The earth rejoiced that they were here, full of energy and talent and letting it ride out in streamers.
His tongue brushed her lips, teasing. Her lips parted, allowing him in, drawing at his mouth until she pulled a gasp from his throat and his hands snaked under the sweatshirt.
They’d done this before, but now was different. Somehow new and familiar at the same time. Her insides were melting away, and it was a good thing his hands were there to hold her up because she was falling against him. A hand cupped her breast, and she moaned into his mouth, arching her back when his thumb found the most sensitive bits.
Suddenly she wasn’t chilly at all.
In fact, she could do with a lot less clothing.
Her hands explored under the hem of his T-shirt, stroking along the planes of his stomach, tracing the muscles of his chest. One of his hands stroked down her back and found its way beneath the waistband of her jeans, just an inch, maybe two, but just feeling his fingers on more sensitive skin had her panting into his mouth.
He dragged the sweatshirt over her head before she even knew what he was doing. Then his mouth was on her neck, his hands grabbing her thighs and lifting her, carrying her back to the car in such a way that she wanted him to quit with the gentle stuff and push her up against the side of the car, just to feel the sheer power of it.
He did exactly that. It felt even better than she expected. The radio was still on, some announcer’s voice filling the afternoon air with football scores or weather reports or even the price of tea in China.
She so didn’t care, because Hunter’s shirt was gone and he was kissing inside the neckline of her top. He was pressed so tightly against her that she could feel everything, and it was amazing and terrifying and sensual and breathless and she couldn’t think.
Her hands groped for the button to his jeans. Hunter made a low sound, an encouraging sound.
But then he broke the kiss and caught her wrist. “Wait,” he said, his voice rough.
And worried. He reached past her and turned up the radio. “What did he just say?”
Kate could barely comprehend English, and she struggled to wrap her brain around this sudden shift. “What is it? What—”
“Shh.” He put a finger over her lips, his attention on the radio.
Then she picked up what the announcer was saying.
“. . . Mrs. Dean recently lost her niece Calla Dean in a school carnival fire a few days ago. She states that prior to his disappearance, Noah was a good student who had never given any indication of running away. He’d indicated problems with a student at the high school, and we’ll update this story as further information is available. For now, local police are treating the area as a crime scene. Anyone with information should call . . .”
Disappearance.
Noah Dean was missing.
