Page 61 of Raging Inferno

“Yeah, babe?”

Suddenly, he was thrown off balance. He landed on his back with Presley looming over him, a sultry smile tilting her lips. Oh, God, he didn’t think it could get better. This was so much more so.

“You were taking too long, and I have no patience.”

His laugh turned into a groan when she started moving. If he could pick a way to leave the world, this would be it. Every nerve ending sparked with pleasure as she increased the pace. He cupped her breasts and gazed into her eyes. How had he lived without this woman?

As much as he wanted it to last forever, it was over much too soon because he couldn’t hold back. Thankfully, she couldn’t either. The climax was explosive, and for a second, he thought this honestly might be the way he died.

Presley collapsed on top of him, and he wrapped her in his arms. He wasn’t sure, but he might’ve passed out.

“Wow,” she breathed against his neck.

That was too mild of a description, but he wasn’t in the word-forming stage yet. He was still trying to regain his sanity.

#

Back when Presley had been a young girl crushing on Dominic, she’d dreamed of kissing him. She’d spied Gwen making out with him once and pretended it was her. At the time, she thought it was simply two sets of lips pressing together chastely. She had no idea the details and finesse that went into a kiss or how sensual it could be.

Presley wasn’t a virgin, but she wasn’t super-experienced, either. Still, she knew enough to realize Dominic was a master. She’d almost detonated from his kiss alone. Then he’d touched her, and it felt as if he’d pressed a live wire against her body. Sparks had erupted. He’d been taking his sweet time, which, under different circumstances, she would’ve enjoyed. Not when she’d needed him with an intensity bordering on desperation. It had been up to her to take matters into her own hands.

Thankfully, he’d been on the same page. When he’d slid inside her, it was all she could do to keep from blurting out her love for him. Nothing had ever felt so perfect.

Maybe she should have been embarrassed about rushing them along, but she hadn’t been able to hold back. The only thing that had mattered was flying off the cliff with him beside her.

All she could think about was doing it again. And again. Presley had a feeling she’d never get enough of him.

A twinge of guilt assailed her. She was spending the day in bed with Dominic while Margy and Nancy were gone. But their deaths served to remind her that life was too short. Tomorrow wasn’t a guarantee for anyone. She needed to strive for happiness while she could.

Presley lazily blinked at the blue waters of the lake outside the windows and reveled in the fact that it was the middle of the day and she was lying in the arms of a man she’d loved for more than half her life. Dominic was spooned behind her, holding her close. It was the most fantastic blanket she’d ever had wrapped around her.

“I can’t get enough of you,” Dominic murmured into her ear before he nibbled her neck.

She rolled until they were face to face. “Good, because I feel the same way.”

That set him off, and the second time was hard and fast again. Maybe they’d get to the point where they could take it slow and worship each other’s bodies. Maybe not. Either way, she won.

#

Charmaine Wells tucked the sheets around her daughter, Ruth, and turned out the light. Her sons, Abraham and Lazarus, had already fallen asleep in their bunk beds while she’d read them a story from the children’s biblical series she’d purchased online.

Charmaine shuddered, remembering how irate her husband, Ezekiel, had been at her when he’d seen the charge. She’d know she’d been playing with fire using the credit card. She had a very short leash to spend money. So small, in fact, that she couldn’t buy so much as a candy bar without the third degree. Charmaine had assured Ezekiel that the books would be used for Sunday school classes. After many tense hours, when she didn’t know if he’d fly off the handle and strike or not, he’d finally relented. What he didn’t know was that she’d kept them to read to her kids. Ezekiel had little to do with rearing them. He never showed them affection or kissed their boo-boos. He barely acknowledged them. At least she didn’t have to worry about him finding the tomes in the room the three children shared.

Sometimes, she wondered if he knew their names—and he should since he insisted on all of them. She’d picked out monikers for babies she wanted to have when she was ten, with Dillon and Tiffani topping her list. Ezekiel hadn’t even entertained her choices.

Charmaine closed the door and sighed as she tried to work the kinks from her neck. What she wouldn’t give for a massage. Ezekiel would erupt into a murderous rage if another man touched her skin, even an accidental brush. It didn’t matter thathe didn’t want the job himself. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d put his hands on her that way. How old was Lazarus?

Even back then, making love had been strictly for the purpose of creating life. Her pleasure had never factored into their sex life, such as it was. She was simply the vessel to carry his seed, and didn’t that sound icky? He’d made it abundantly clear he didn’t find her sexy. That’s why she’d packed on so many pounds. What did it matter?

For maybe the thousandth time, she wondered how this had become her life. She’d made a stupid mistake when she met Ezekiel and fell under his spell. In a moment of weakness, she’d confessed her deepest, darkest secret, and from then on, he’d owned her.

Charmaine glanced at the cheap plastic watch on her wrist. He would be in his office working on his next sermon, or watching porn, or who knew what. Charmaine was banished from going inside, and like the good Christian wife she was now, she obeyed orders.

She left the house and crossed the parking lot to the church. At one time, she’d been afraid of the dark, but she’d learned to relish it. No one could see you cry. Now, however, she was leery after the visit from Presley Parrish and Dominic Bianchi. They’d told Ezekiel to be careful, as if they thought someone had killed Margy Binder and Nancy Baker. Charmaine swallowed heavily. She couldn’t believe they were gone. Maybe she didn’t speak to them, but she took comfort in knowing they were nearby. Not anymore.

Something clattered, and she spun around, looking for the source. “Who’s there? Hello?”

No answer. It must’ve been one of the neighborhood cats digging for snacks in the trash can. Maybe it was a bear. They had been known to wander the streets in town. She usuallycarried a whistle to ward them off but had forgotten it in her haste to leave the house.

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