Mercedes didn't have time to think when she saw the police car at
the end of the street. Her mind screamed for her to hide, even though
there wasn't time. So she did the only thing she could think of.
While two people standing in an alley talking was suspicious, a couple
making out wasn't.
So she grabbed Webb's coat, pulling him in close to her, her back
against the wall. Their faces inches apart, she whispered urgently,
"Play along," then brought his lips to her own in a simple, chaste
kiss.
But as their lips met, something happened. Maybe it was the fine
brandy he tasted faintly of, or the barest hint of exotic sandalwood
she caught in the masculine scent surrounding her. But in the back of
her mind, she wondered if she was losing control.
Clay knew he was. Atypically caught off guard by her actions, his
senses were under assault. One touch of her silken lips, the slightest
taste of her, and he had to have more. He deepened the kiss, pressing
closer to her as one hand tightened on her waist, the other sinking
into her thick, soft hair.
Mercedes responded in kind, her own hands finding their way to
caress his chest through his sweater, her whole body pressing closer to
his. Everything seemed to fade away as the passion grew between them
out of control; the danger, their pursuers, the chill of the night
around them all but forgotten. When the tip of his tongue lightly
traced the seam of her lips, she couldn't help but gasp at the intimate
gesture.
Clay wasted no time taking advantage of the situation. His tongue
slipped past her slightly parted lips, reaching in to duel with hers in
a heated battle. Backing her up, his body pressed her against the
nearby wall, effectively trapping her. With the cold from the stones
creeping up her back, her only reaction was to try to get closer to the
heat in front of her.
Moving down his sides underneath his heavy coat, her hands traced
along the hem of his sweater for just a moment before moving under to
touch his bare skin. His stomach muscles contracted, as if jolted by
the electricity in her touch, but still their mouths never broke
contact. With a growl, Clay deepened their kiss, tilting his mouth over
and over hers as his hands mirrored hers, seeking out the skin at her
waist.
Mercedes sighed deeply as she felt the feather-light touch of his
hands on her skin, resting over her hipbones and caressing the warm
smooth skin there. Her hands moved lower on his back, seeking.
But then his own hands began to mimic hers, gliding towards her
back...her back...the scars... "No!" she gasped out, desperately
shoving his hands away, squirming away from him. Her mind raced,
panicked. He couldn't know about the scars. No one could. They were
too much...
"Mercedes?" Clay asked, completely bewildered. "What...?" He
wasn't quite sure how or when things had gotten so completely out of
hand, nor did he want to think about where things would have ended up
had they not stopped. But looking at Mercedes, instinct told him
something was very wrong. She looked as he might have expected--except
her face was dead white, her eyes wide and dilated, and her normally
steady hands were shaking badly. If he didn't know better, he'd say
she was on the verge of having a panic attack. And she sure as hell
hadn't been that way a moment ago.
For her part, Mercedes was simply struggling to get herself back
under control. She had to. Control was everything to her. She forced
herself to ignore Webb, bringing her breathing and her racing heart
back closer to normal. Finally, she dared to look at Clay again.
"Let's go. We've got to keep moving," she told him, trying to ignore
the concern on his face.
What the hell? Two minutes ago they'd been ready to go at right
there against the wall, one minute ago she looked like she'd seen a
ghost, and now it was all business? But dammit, she was right. He
nodded, adding, "We need to get out of the city. I have a car, but it'd
be too visible. We'll have to go on foot for now," he said, holding out
his hand to her.
After a moment's hesitation, she nodded, weaving her fingers
through his and grasping his hand firmly. Without another word, they
disappeared into the darkness of alley.
TBC.....
the end of the street. Her mind screamed for her to hide, even though
there wasn't time. So she did the only thing she could think of.
While two people standing in an alley talking was suspicious, a couple
making out wasn't.
So she grabbed Webb's coat, pulling him in close to her, her back
against the wall. Their faces inches apart, she whispered urgently,
"Play along," then brought his lips to her own in a simple, chaste
kiss.
But as their lips met, something happened. Maybe it was the fine
brandy he tasted faintly of, or the barest hint of exotic sandalwood
she caught in the masculine scent surrounding her. But in the back of
her mind, she wondered if she was losing control.
Clay knew he was. Atypically caught off guard by her actions, his
senses were under assault. One touch of her silken lips, the slightest
taste of her, and he had to have more. He deepened the kiss, pressing
closer to her as one hand tightened on her waist, the other sinking
into her thick, soft hair.
Mercedes responded in kind, her own hands finding their way to
caress his chest through his sweater, her whole body pressing closer to
his. Everything seemed to fade away as the passion grew between them
out of control; the danger, their pursuers, the chill of the night
around them all but forgotten. When the tip of his tongue lightly
traced the seam of her lips, she couldn't help but gasp at the intimate
gesture.
Clay wasted no time taking advantage of the situation. His tongue
slipped past her slightly parted lips, reaching in to duel with hers in
a heated battle. Backing her up, his body pressed her against the
nearby wall, effectively trapping her. With the cold from the stones
creeping up her back, her only reaction was to try to get closer to the
heat in front of her.
Moving down his sides underneath his heavy coat, her hands traced
along the hem of his sweater for just a moment before moving under to
touch his bare skin. His stomach muscles contracted, as if jolted by
the electricity in her touch, but still their mouths never broke
contact. With a growl, Clay deepened their kiss, tilting his mouth over
and over hers as his hands mirrored hers, seeking out the skin at her
waist.
Mercedes sighed deeply as she felt the feather-light touch of his
hands on her skin, resting over her hipbones and caressing the warm
smooth skin there. Her hands moved lower on his back, seeking.
But then his own hands began to mimic hers, gliding towards her
back...her back...the scars... "No!" she gasped out, desperately
shoving his hands away, squirming away from him. Her mind raced,
panicked. He couldn't know about the scars. No one could. They were
too much...
"Mercedes?" Clay asked, completely bewildered. "What...?" He
wasn't quite sure how or when things had gotten so completely out of
hand, nor did he want to think about where things would have ended up
had they not stopped. But looking at Mercedes, instinct told him
something was very wrong. She looked as he might have expected--except
her face was dead white, her eyes wide and dilated, and her normally
steady hands were shaking badly. If he didn't know better, he'd say
she was on the verge of having a panic attack. And she sure as hell
hadn't been that way a moment ago.
For her part, Mercedes was simply struggling to get herself back
under control. She had to. Control was everything to her. She forced
herself to ignore Webb, bringing her breathing and her racing heart
back closer to normal. Finally, she dared to look at Clay again.
"Let's go. We've got to keep moving," she told him, trying to ignore
the concern on his face.
What the hell? Two minutes ago they'd been ready to go at right
there against the wall, one minute ago she looked like she'd seen a
ghost, and now it was all business? But dammit, she was right. He
nodded, adding, "We need to get out of the city. I have a car, but it'd
be too visible. We'll have to go on foot for now," he said, holding out
his hand to her.
After a moment's hesitation, she nodded, weaving her fingers
through his and grasping his hand firmly. Without another word, they
disappeared into the darkness of alley.
TBC.....