Song for the Dead (Ada Palomino 2)

“Sweetheart,” he says to me, his voice causing a cascade of shivers down my spine, “you’re all I fucking think about, all the damn time. I’m thinking about you even when you’re right here in front of me.” He pauses. “To say I want you is a fucking understatement.”

I open my eyes.

“Then find your balls and do something about it.”

He nearly flinches at that. His eyes glint, his nostrils flare, his hands in my hair become a tight fist.

He moves fast.

Leans in.

Covers my mouth with his, lips moving with a violence that makes my toes curl in my boots, causes my knees to buckle.

I’m dying.

I’m so alive.

The wet slide of his tongue loosens whatever inhibition I had left, spurns on this insatiable hunger for him and from the way he’s devouring me, the way his hands move along my waist now, sliding up my shirt, I know he feels the same way.

Yes, please, fucking touch me.

His hand goes over my breast, thumb sliding over my nipple and I’m jolting from the contact, the kiss deepening until I’m pressed back against the trunk. Then he’s lifting me up again, placing me on the car, and I’m wrapping my legs around his waist, wanting so much more than the last time.

I reach down, press my palm against his crotch, nearly gasping at the size of him, how hard he is, heat between my own legs flaring. Now I really know how he feels.

“Sweet Jesus,” he says breathlessly, pulling away. I grip him through his jeans, his eyes pinching shut, a throaty moan falling from his mouth.

I don’t care if the neighbors are watching, I want him, all of him.

Now.

“Ada,” he murmurs, voice caught in his throat as he brings his mouth to my neck, sucking my skin, making my eyes roll back in my head. “You don’t know what you’re asking of me.”

I grip him harder, trying to meet his eyes. “I think I’m making myself very clear.”

I bring out another rich groan from him, the gleam in his eyes turning savage. His hands come to my head, holding me as his nose brushes against the tip of mine.

“Then I’ll make myself clear,” he says gruffly. “I know I could take you inside, fuck your brains out. Make you come, make you scream, make you beg for more. Lord knows I’ve been dreaming about it from day one. And I’ll do it. I’ll blow your fucking mind. So as long as you know what this is to you. What I am to you. I’m your rebound, Ada.”

I stare him dumbly, my entire body flushed with heat, squirming from his beautiful dirty mouth, too stupid to make sense of things. “Rebound?”

He nods, studying my lips.

“But what if you’re more than that?” I ask.

“I’m afraid that’s all I ever can be to you.”

I reach up, running my hand over his hair, not understanding. I know that this might seem to a rebound, but…it’s not. There’s more to it.

He straightens up slightly, putting space back between us.

“I’m going to see Rose. And before that, you’re going to see Jay.”

“Jay?” The mention of his name is like being doused with ice water. “What are you talking about?”

“You know our route. The I-10 takes us right through Tucson. You said he was there. You know you’re going to try and find him.”

I blink, looking away, my chest aching with dread, because he’s right. That’s what I was planning on doing. I was hoping that when we drove through Tucson, I could put my feelers out. Maybe I could find Jay on energy and instinct alone. Maybe I go to him through the Veil. Maybe we could just luck upon his house. I remember what it looks like.

And then what? What’s the plan?

What do I want from him anymore?

Max puts his hands on my waist and gently places me on the ground before picking up the suitcases. “We’ll hit Tucson tomorrow. It’s a long drive. Better get some rest.”

And, just like that, he starts taking the suitcases to our little bungalow for the night, leaving me a confused wreck of overturned emotions and a severe case of lady blue-balls. To say I’m hard up is selling it short.

I watch him go for a moment, then close my eyes, open my chest and take in a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart, tame my wild brain.

This can’t keep happening.

So fucking close, and yet so far.

I exhale slowly, still shaking.

Then I go after him into the house.

It’s nice, albeit small, and there’s only one bedroom with one bed. A queen-sized too. I swear to god I didn’t plan it that way, it was just the only B&B available on such a short notice.

So, about that whole fucking my brains out part, I want to say, but he speaks first.