Born to Darkness by Suzanne Brockmann Page B

she hadn’t already started to come herself, it would’ve pushed her over the edge. As it was, her own orgasm blasted through her, and she closed her eyes because that same white-hot, blinding light was back, like they were making some kind of return entry from outer space, burning up through the atmosphere. And she clung to him, her body straining to meet his, to receive him, as the heat, the rush, the thrill kept surging, rocketing, spinning …
    This shit was fully out of control, and she was, too, and she knew it—and she loved every freaking second of it.
    God, when was the last time she’d felt like this?
    Never
.
    She’d never felt anything even remotely this crazy. But like all good things, it came to an end. And there they were, out of breath and gasping for air, atop the blankets and sheets on the bed that she’d bought all those months ago, where Justin had screwed his new girlfriend before leaving town for good, thus putting into place the chain of events that had put Mac into Father’s bar at the same time as this Boy Scout who’d just sent her to heaven.
    She could hear him panting, catching his breath, and feel the pounding of his heart—he was still pressed that close.
    “Holy fuck,” Shane gasped, and she laughed because, really, that said it all, didn’t it?
    He laughed, too—a warm rumble that she felt more than heard.It was then that he kissed her, his lips so soft against hers. It was such a contrast to the hard-core sex they’d just shared. It was sweet. Tender. The kiss of a lover, not that of a hookup she’d met mere minutes ago in a bar.
    But then he laughed again, and said, “Did we do that?”
    And Mac realized then that her eyes were open, but the room—the entire apartment—was dark. All of the lights had gone out.
    “Just kidding,” he said, as he kissed her again—a shadow back-lit by the dim light from the streetlamp on the corner, filtered in through the cheap window shades she’d bought and installed when she’d realized the ancient mini-blinds were transparent. “Must’ve been a power surge. Where’s the circuit box?”
    “In the kitchen,” she managed to say, even as his question echoed.
Did we do that?
    Before she knew it, he’d pulled away from her and out of her—all that heat and full body contact just suddenly gone. And she must’ve made some kind of sound of distress, because he was instantly back, kissing her again—his mouth possessive but no less sweet.
    “Don’t go anywhere, baby,” he breathed. “I’ll be right back. I promise.”
    And Mac couldn’t stop herself from grabbing his arm. She couldn’t keep herself from asking, “Who
are
you?”
    Shane laughed again—more heat in the darkness, his breath warm against her cheek. “Funny, I was going to ask
you
that. Right after I asked the more important question: Can we do that again?”
    “I’m ready whenever you are,” she managed.
    He leaned in to kiss her, longer this time, slower, and she felt herself melting against him. “Hmm,” he said. And then he got off the bed, but not to vanish into the kitchen. Instead he went to the window and pulled up the shade, just a little. Just enough to let some silvery light shine into the room so that Mac could see him. So that he could see her.
    “That’s better,” he said, as he rejoined her on the bed, smiling into her eyes. He then proceeded to look her over very thoroughly.
    Mac laughed as he turned her over slightly, then lifted first one of her arms and then the other. “What are you—”
    “So far no tattoos,” he confirmed. “Although maybe under that sock …”
    Her ankle barely hurt at all anymore, and she reached down and pulled off her sock. She wiggled her toes, rotated her foot to the left and then to the right. She’d always healed faster when she had sex, but she’d been right. Because this time? It had been off-the-charts.
    “Wow, it really doesn’t look that bad,” Shane said.
    “It cramps sometimes,” she