Final Scream 7/43
Title: Final Scream
Author: Lisa Jackson
LJ Author:
theromancestory
Pairing: Adam/Tommy, Adam/Kris
Rating: NC-17 to R
Warnings: Sex, Language, Angst
Disclaimer: I don't own anything! This is based off of another book "Final Scream" by Lisa Jackson. I don't own anything, I just made this as an Adam Lambert story and is switched around completely, so it is not as a like as the original. Same plot, but different settings. Do not send this to any one of them. I am not plagarizing and giving rights to myself. All rights belong to original author, Lisa Jackson.
Summary: When he was only 17, Adam Lambert fell for the 19-year-old bad boy in town, Tommy Joe Ratliff, who'd had his share of run-ins with both the law, the local women and men. Then a terrible fire killed Adam's sister, and Tommy, the chief suspect, was forced to run away. Ten years later, an eerily similar fire seriously injures Adam's husband, Kris, who happens to be Tommy's brother. With the earlier fire still an open case, suspicion turns to Adam, the only unharmed person connected to both tragedies.
Also: This is the chapter you've probably all been waiting for. I'm such a tease, I just give you a little taste?
(if you know what I mean...)
Katy wiggled into her bra. It was no use trying to seduce Neil when he was in one of his moods. He didn't seem to notice her anymore. Oh, sure, he'd drive her all the way to Los Angeles on the pretext of taking her to a movie, then he'd pay for a room in this dump of a motel and he'd make love to her, but he wasn't really with her; not like he used to be. And he didn't even know the truth.
Dark hair mussed, he was lying on the bed, and smoking a cigarette. A reporter was going on about the heat wave, how long it was going to last, how bad it was for the crops, how people shouldn't water their lawns (like they had any). Who cared?
Rolling off the bed, she walked to the window and peered through the blinds. Across the street a restaurant claiming to serve authentic Northern Chinese cuisine was bustling with activity. Under the streetlights, men and women flocked to the front doors, laughing and talking. Holding hands. Falling in love. How long had it been since Neil held her hand? Or took her out? She swallowed the lump forming in her throat. It didn't work to cry with him; it only served to make him angry, and Neil's temper was worse than her own. Fingering the blinds, she tried to imagine what life would be without Neil Lambert. The thought was terrifying, and yet she felt a gnawing deep inside her, a fear that she was losing him.
Katy's heart tore a little. Once upon a time she and Neil had been in love. He would have walked through heaven and hell to be with her, but now . . . she glance at the bed where he lay, his eyes at half-mast, a neglected cigarette growing ash between his fingers. Tall and lean, well-muscled and tanned, he was the second son of Eber and Leila Lambert, as strapping as his father, as good-looking as his mother. He was arrogant and knew that as the son of the richest man in San Diego and Los Angeles, any number of girls would climb willingly into his bed. As she had. The daughter of a business man, no less. But she hadn't slept with him because he was rich; she'd made love to him that first time in the backseat of his Mustang because she loved him with a passion that wouldn't die. He hadn't even had to take her out.
She felt more than a little shame, because, before Neil, she hadn't let a boy touch her. Several had tried to get their sweaty paws into her bra, but she'd been selective because of Neil. She'd known she was in love with him when she was only eleven years old and had confided in Alli that someday she was going to marry him. Alli had laughed. Who would want her brother, who, at sixteen, was gawky, all arms and legs with a bad complexion? But Katy had known. Even then. And she'd save her virginity for him. She planned to marry him and th e subject had come up more than once, usually at her suggestion, but lately, Neil didn't have much time for her.
Tonight, while the air-conditioning wheezed and the television muted, they'd made love. Once. And it had been a lot of work. Almost a duty. At first Neil hadn't been all that interested -- His mind on other things - but eventually she'd teased him into putting aside his problems back hime in San Diego and he'd responded to her new black bra and garters. Now, though, as he stared at the televison and it reflected in blue shadows across his face, she could have been bare-ass naked and he wouldn't have cared. Something was bothering him, and not for the first time, he was shutting her out. She tried again. Moving sensually and catlike to the bed, she crawled up the mussed covers, between his legs, letting her breasts, which he used to love, hang down into the tight little cups of her push-up bra. She licked her lips. "Maybe we should go out," she cooed, her voice low and sexy, her breath whispering across his abdomen.
He flicked a glance at her. "Later."
"Why not now?" She kissed his navel, but beneath his shorts she saw no erection springing to life.
"I just want to watch the news. Okay?" He didn't bother hiding his irritation as he jabbed out his cigarette.
"You can watch it tomorrow. Right now, we could have some fun . . ." She trailed her tongue up his sternum and teased at a nipple.
"Are you really that horny?"
"With you? Always." She lifted an eyebrow and tossed her elegant mane of thick blonde hair. Neil's lips moved slightly.
"Then prove it."
"What?"
His eyes narrowed into wicked slits. "Prove it, Katy," he said, lifting her up so that she had to straddle his chest. "Put on your best show."
"I-I don't understand."
"Sure you do. Make me want you. So that I never think of another woman. Show me what you've got that makes you so special." He snapped a grater against her thigh and she jumped. Then his finger hooked under the front clasp of her bra and he dragged her closer to him, so that his breath fanned her nipples beneath the black lace. "Show me how I make you feel; get down and dirty."
"I-I love you," she said, her voice quivering a little. He scared her when he got like this, when he seemed so desperate for something . . . something more than she could give him. And beneath the fear, she felt anger. Just a tiny spark, but anger nonetheless.
Oblivious to her warring emotions, he leaned back against the pillows, stacking his arms behind his head, staring up at her. "Good. Then prove it," he said with a cruel glance. "C'mon, baby. Do me."
**********************************************************
With the moonlight for his guide, Adam hunched low over Red's shoulders and hug his heels into his ribs. He hadn't bothered with a saddle and rode him bareback, clamping his legs firmly around his sleek sides. The game colt took the bit in his teeth and raced across the dry grass, his hooves thundering as he kicked up dust. Wind screamed against Adam's face, bringing fresh tears to his eyes. He knew running the horse flat out through the fields was dangerous, but he didn't care. All he wanted to do was erase the image that seemed burned into his brain.
He rode through the connecting fields until he could feel the horse breathing hard, then pulled up and let him walk in the shadow of a copse of oak and maple trees. Away from the lights of the ranch, he gazed into the dark heavens to the millions of stars that winked against a sea of black. Red yanked on the bit. shaking his head and rattling his bridle, trying to communicate with him that he was still the boss, but Adam was having none of it. The colt had become more docile since Tommy had been working with him but he was still too headstrong and Adam didn't let him get too close to the overhanging branches of the trees for fear that he would try to escape and scrape him off. His shoulder was still a little tender, and he didn't want to risk another injury.
"Come on," he said, clicking his tongue and riding along an overgrown trail where the scents of honeysuckle and skunkweed mingled with dust in the dry air.Adam spit to clear his throat and guided the horse up a small rise where remnants of an abandoned sawmill camp still stood. The buildings were weathered and rotting, windows broken long ago, roofs collapsing on the old sheds where men had once cut timber into peeled logs and two by fours. That was a long time ago, before loggers had chased the stands of old growth farther into the hills and before the old man-made pond had dried up. The empty pond, flat as a fritter and stretching for half a mile, was his destination. A horse could gallop across the smooth surface without fear of stumbling in a mole hole or tripping over a log hidden in the tall grass. "Let's go," Adam said, once again digging his heels into Red's sides. The colt responded, lunging forward with enough speed to steal Adam's breath. Wind whistled past his ears as Red's long legs stretched and bunched, reaching farther, hooves thudding in sharp counterpoint to the rapid beating of his heart. "That's it," he said as the horse streaked across the old pond. At far side a grass-covered dike kept the swift water of the river from leaking into the dry poond bed. He pulled on the reins and caught his breath as Red turned. Yelling at the top of his lungs, he urged him forward. The colt bolted, hurtling over the flat surface again.
Exhilaration swept through his blood as he squinted against the moonlight-drenched fields. Tears burned his vision and he forgot about everything except the powerful animal beneath him, feeling his muscles strain as he raced against the wind, faster and faster. "Run! Run, you devil!" he cried as the ground swept beneath them. Heart pounding, he felt Red's sweat lather against his legs and heard him breathing hard. Finally, he pulled up at the edge of the pond and, gasping, let him walk over the weed-covered dune to stop near the dilapidated old sheds of the sawmill. "Good boy," he said, patting his wet side. "You're the best." He slid to the ground. The stubble of thistle and grass tickled his legs, but he barely noticed. As soon as he was off Red's back, Red snorted and half-reared. The colt tossed his headm stripping the reins from his fingers, sending fire through his injured shoulder. "Hey, wait! Woah--" he commanded, ignoring the pain screaming down his arm as he lunged to catch hold of the leather straps.
Red let out a triumphant neigh and twisted as he reached for the damn reins. "Hey--Red--" Red bolted forward, his hooves pounding out a sharp tattoo against the hard ground as he disappeared over the grassy dike. "Damn it all to hell!" Adam yelled in frustration, kicking at the ground with the toe of his worn Converse shoe. Now he was in for it. But good. He couldn't possibly track down the mule-headed horse in the middle of the night. The ranch stretched for thousands of acres, and though each portion was fenced off from the others, Red could roam through the connecting fields or the foothills, some of which were thick with scrub oak and brush. He'd have enough trouble finding him in the full light of day.
At dawn, when Matt made his rounds, he would discover Red missing and there would be hell to pay. Adam cringed at the thought. As things stood now, if he made it back to the house undetected and kept his mouth shut, Tommy would probably be blamed for the missing horse. And it would serve him right for letting Alli lead him around by his . . . well, his nose. He swore under his breath, already knowing that he wouldn't let him take the fall. Tommy would lose his job for sure, and it wouldn't be fair. Although it warmed a cold, vengeful part of his heart to think that Tommy and Alli would be thwarted and wouldn't be able to see each other as easily as they could while he worked for Eber Lamber, Adam couldn't blame for his own idiotic mistake. "Son of a--" He heard it then, the unlikely huff of air--almost a snort. The warning hairs on the back of his neck lifted one by one, and he squinted into the darkness, wondering what he could use as a weapon. Sometimes bums wandered through the hills and spent a night or two in whatever shelter they could find at the old sawmill. His throat turned to sand.
"Lose something?"
Tommy's voice was a dark whisper that sent Adam's already-pounding hear into a sharp double-time. Whipping around, he found him leaning up against a beam holding up the sagging porch of the old cook shed.
"What're you doing here?"
"I think that's what I should ask you."
Adam tried to hold on to some shred of his dignity. "I thought I'd go for a ride."
"Is that what you were doing?"
"Yes! Since no one will let me ride my horse--"
"Because you can't handle him."
"I can!"
"Didn't look like that to me," he drawled, his grin flashing white and infuritating Adam.
"You probably spooked him," he argued, though he knew in his heart that Tommy was right. He'd lost control of the mean-spirited colt.
"Yeah, right." He barked out a laugh and Adam heard the jangle of bridle. For a foolish second he thought Red had returned until he noticed the dun-colored gelding tethered to a post near the old pump house.
"How'd you know where I was?"
"Followed you."
"You what--?" he asked, his heart knocking painfully as Tommy pushed himself away from the post and strode away slowly over to Adam.
"Serves you right. You were spying, Ad," he said, his voice familiar as he said his name. He stopped just in front of Adam and Adam felt suddenly young and small.
Shaking his head, he said, "I don't spy--"
"Sure you do. And you saw me with Alli at the pool, and you jumped to all sorts of conclusions."
Good Lord, couldn't he hear Adam's heart drumming wildly? He wanted to deny it, to tell Tommy that he was mistake,but the words seemed frozen on his tongue. "I . . . don't--"
"Don't lie, Ad. It's not your style."
A breeze, blowing hot over the hills, stirred the grass and somewhere off in the thicket of trees and owl hooted softly, only to be answered by a horse's nicker. Red! He should go and try to catch him, but right now he was mesmerized by the moonlit fields, the dark shadown of the night and Tommy Ratliff. He let out a tremelous sigh. "Okay, so I saw you."
"And you got mad--"
"I did not--"
"Shh." He pressed a callused finger to Adam's lips and shook his head. "You're doing it again," he warned in a voice so low he could barely hear his words.
"But how did you--?"
Tommy stared at him long and hard. "That's the strange thing. I felt that someone was watching, which isn't something new. I've felt it before. I thought it might be Robbie - you know how he sneaks around - or maybe your old man checking out his daughter, but there was something in the air. Oh, hell, what do I know? But I heard you run off, trip and swear under your breath."
"I didn't say a word."
"Didn't you?" he asked and his finger moved slowly, tracing the edge of Adam's lips in a slow motion that caused a swirling sensation in the pit of Adam's stomach.
Involuntarily he licked his lips and touched the pad of Tommy's finger, tasting salt and tobacco. For a moment Tommy didn't move, just stared down at him, his eyes narrowing into slits in the moonlight. "What do you care if I'm with your sister?"
The words balled up in his throat. "I don't--" Tommy tilted back his head and Adam knew he was falling into the trap of lying again - to protect his identity as well as his pride. "I - I guess I, um, don't like her manipulating you."
"You don't have to worry about that."
"You don't know her."
"Maybe not yet. But I will."
Adam's heart seemed to shatter. "She'll hurt you and use you and--"
"I don't think so." He dropped his hand, and his gaze seemed to soften a little. "I'm asking again. What do you care?"
"I just don't like it when she tries to twist men around her fingers."
"She hasn't twisted me."
"Yet."
"She asked me to go to that big deal of a party thrown by the O'Connells'."
"I heard. You said you'd go."
His smile turned brittle. "Me and BM. We go way back."
Adam had heard stories, of course, rumors about Tommy's wild youth. How he'd nearly killed his brother once with a gun neither bot thought was loaded. Kris still bore the scar of a bullet hole in his shoulder. The weapon, a small pistol that one of Summer's men-friends had inadvertently left as her trailer, had been returned to the man. There had been other stories as well, but for some reason, no charges had ever been filed against Tommy. "I don't think it's a good idea for you to go with Alli," he blurted suddenly.
"No?" Tommy's fingers curled into a fist, which he used to lift his chin so that he would have to meet his eyes. "Why not? Won't I fit in?"
"That's not the reason," he said, barely able to breathe. The night seemed to close around them. "Maybe you're jealous."
"No," he whispered and Tommy smiled.
"There you go lying again, Ad. Didn't I tell you it doesn't suit you?"
Adam knew he was going to kiss him, yet when Tommy's lips brushed gently over his, Adam wasn't prepared for the quake that slid down his entire body or the feel of him so close -- the smell of him so earthy and male. With a groan, Tommy grabbed him roughly, drawing him fast against the hard angles of his body. Lips that had been so gentle turned rough. Adam's blood began to pound in his temples. The tip of Tommy's tongue slid like a supple knife against the seam of Adam's lips, and he opened his mouth to him. Groaning, he gather him closer still, dragging his willing body against his, crushing hsi chest to the unyielding wall of Tommy's.
Adam's heart was thundering, his blood pumping wildly. It seemed the most natural act in the world when his knees buckled and he pulled Adam onto the ground. His kisses turned anxious, his tongue flicking across the roof of Adam's mouth, sending ripples of pleasure through Adam's limbs. "Ad," he murmured into his open mouth. His hands moved easily over his bare chest and he touched one nipple with his thumb and Adam gasped, his abdomen pressing against his own spine. "This is what you wanted, isn't it?" he said as his fingers joined his thumb and he gently kneaded one small mound. Adam couldn't answer, didn't dare breathe. Feeling the chain holding his St. Christopher's medal, he paused. "Still wearing this?"
"Always."
He picked up the silver disk; it winked in the moonlight. He held the disk between his pecks (lol), pushing the engraved metal against his skin. Closing his eyes, he shook his head, as if to regain his composure, as if he was going to stop, and Adam, heart beating, drew his head down and kissed him again, his inexperienced tounge pushing eagerly into his mouth. Tommy groaned in protest. "Adam--" Adam's fingers splayed over the soft fabric of his shirt, instictively searching for his flat nipples. "Don't--" he whispered.
"Please--"
"You don't know what you're asking."
"I know I'm with you." He kissed him hard and Tommy responded, giving in to the demands of his body. Rough hands moved expertly over Adam's skin, sending shivers down his spine, and stoking fires feep within him, dark sweet fires he stoked so well.
"Tell me no, Ad--" he said, touching him and causing sweet sensations to spark through his blood. "For fuck's sake." His arms surrounded him and he drew Adam upward, forcing his spine to curve away from the ground a s he touched a nipple with the tip of his tongue. A tremor ripped through Adam and Tommy groaned, his breath hot against skin. Adam arched upward and Tommy kisses him again. Adam's body ground against his, his fingers curling in the thick strands of his hair. A deep, moist need began to awaken and yawn between his legs. The world seemed to blur as the hand at the base of his spine pulled him closer still and he felt another stiff bulge beneath Tommy's fly. Soft, worn denim couldn't hide his erection, and he rubbed it against his skinny jeans. One hand slid up the inseam of his jeans, touching the elastic of the leg of his briefs. Tommy shifted, so that he could slip his finger past the flimsy barrier of cloth. Adam's mouth went dry, and he cried out as Tommy's fingers parted him, exploring and touching. Adam gripped his head, and his teeth pulled on his nipple as Tommy touched a part of him Adam hadn't known existed. The world began to spin as Tommy stroked him, and Adam moved with his rhythm, breathing hard and fast, holding him tight as a pressure, sweet and dark, built inside Adam, a pressure so blinding that he thought of nothing other than moving with him. He thought he might explode and still Tommy worked, his finger dipping in and out, his tongue licking his skin.
"That's a boy," he whispered across Adam's chest as Adam began to gasp in sharp little breaths. "Let go."
"Tommy--"
"Come on. It's all right, I'm here."
Adam's body convulsed. The ground shifted beneath him, and his bones seemed to melt as the stars behind his eyes collided. "Oh, fuck," he whispered, feeling his hand withdraw, leaving that which was once hot instantly cold. "Oh, fuck! Oh, shit." And all at once it was over. Adam let out a shaky breath. Tommy rolled away from him with a curse and left Adam breathless and covered with a sheen of his own perspiration. "Tommy?" he whispered, once his heartbeat had slowed. He heard him strike a match and watches as the flame illuminated his face.
"You're a virgin." He drew hard on his cigarette; it glowed bright in the dark. Why did it sound like an insult?
"I'm only seventeen."
"Hell." Tommy wiped a hand over his brow and shot out a stream of smoke.
"You knew how old I was."
He smoked in silence, and Adam was suddenly embarrassed, as if somehow he'd disappointed him. Adam looked down at his chest, small and white nipples that were larger than usual, and he felt ashamed as he looked up again. "What is it you want from me?"
"Nothing!"
"Nothing? After what just happened?"
"Nothing happened?"
"How can you say that after . . ." His voice cracked.
"So you came. Big deal."
Adam was shocked. Was that what had happened? He'd come -- had an orgasm? "But you . . . you didn't." He knew enough about bulls and stallions, and what men did, to realize Tommy'd somehow denied himself. Or that he didn't want to go all the way with him.
"Look, Ad, if you're horny, you can do yourself. You don't need me."
"You mean--?" He drew away, disgusted.
"Happens all the time." Standing, Tommy dusted his hands on his jeans.
"I don't want to--"
"Then don't. It's none of my business." He stared at Adam, and disgust curved the corners of his mouth. "Are you ready to leave?" he said, dropping his cigarette onto a boulder and squashing it with the toe of his boot. "Maybe we should try to find your horse."
"And just forget that we nearly--?"
He reached down and hauled him to his feet. "As I said, nothing happened. It was no big deal. I got a little carried away and thought you should at least experience what it's like to get your rocks off, that's all!"
"Bull! You felt it, too!" he said, stung.
"I feel it with a lot of people."
"I don't believe you."
"Including your sister!" he said, and Adam felt as if the flick of a whip had cut right through his heart.
He shrank away from Tommy. "You couldn't!" he cried. "Not now. Not when you just--!"
"You saw us by the pool."
"But--"
"You should've stuck around for the real show." His mouth twisted into a grim, bitter line. "Maybe then you could've learned into something. Your sister, she's a real hot pants."
With a gasp, Adam hauled back and slapped him so hard that the sound richocheted off the surrounding hills. He grabbed his arms and held them over his head. "Don't hit me," he warned, his face turning savage in the darkness. "And take tonight as a lesson. Don't be giving it away for free just to any boy."
"I wouldn't."
"You nearly did."
Angling his face up to him, he said, "I thought nothing happened."
He snorted. "Only because I'm so goddamn noble."
"I love you!"
Tommy froze and silence prevailed over the night-washed land. Adam stared him straight in the eye. "Adam," he said and his voice gentled. "You don't have to try and mix up lust and love. You . . . you wanted to experiment and see what it was like to get laid and that's not really all that bad, except when it becomes an obsession like with your sister, but shit, you don't have to tell a guy you love him just because he got into your pants."
"I wound't let anyone in I didn't love."
"Oh, hell--"
"I love you, Tommy Ratliff, and I wish I didn't." He inched his chin up a notch, and Tommy shook his head. Some of the hard edges left his features, but a trace of sadness touched his eyes.
"You don't love me and I don't love you. And we're never, never going to have this conversation again." Slowly he lowered his arms and released him. "What happened between us a few minutes ago is over. I made a mistake. I thought I was doing you a favor--"
"Like hell, you wanted me!"
"Just because a guy gets a hard-on--"
Adam threw his arms around his neck and kissed him with renewed passion borne of desperation. Tommy was trying to break it off with him before it ever got started. "I love you. Tommy," he said and Tommy's body tensed, but he didn't shove him away amnd his lips held his. His arms surrounded him, pulling him close to him, muscle straining against muscle, heart pounding next to heart. His groan was one of tortured surrender, and Adam felt him dragging him down to the ground again only to stiffen with sagging knees.
"No!" he growled, throwing him away from his so that Adam stumbled backward and nearly fell. "Don't you get it, Adam? This isn't right. You're jailbait and I'm on probation with your father as it is!" He strode over to his horse, grabbed the reins and tossed a look over his shoulder. "Coming?"
Adam's cheeks were hot with embarrassment and tears threatened his throat and eyes, but he found some bit of dignity and nodded. "Good." Tommy slapped the reins in Adam's hands. "Go home and go to bed. I'll take care of Red."
"No, I'll--"
"Don't be silly, Ad. This is the only way it'll work."
His fingers curved over the soft leather straps, and humiliated beyond belief, he climbed into the saddle. Yanking on the reins, he eyed Tommy from astride the gelding. "You know, Tommy, you can say anything you want and believe whatever makes you feel better, but I love you and I probably always will." Tommy glared up at him but didn't move. The horse twisted and reared as he added, "In the future, please, don't do me any more favors!"
Author: Lisa Jackson
LJ Author:
theromancestory
Pairing: Adam/Tommy, Adam/Kris
Rating: NC-17 to R
Warnings: Sex, Language, Angst
Disclaimer: I don't own anything! This is based off of another book "Final Scream" by Lisa Jackson. I don't own anything, I just made this as an Adam Lambert story and is switched around completely, so it is not as a like as the original. Same plot, but different settings. Do not send this to any one of them. I am not plagarizing and giving rights to myself. All rights belong to original author, Lisa Jackson.
Summary: When he was only 17, Adam Lambert fell for the 19-year-old bad boy in town, Tommy Joe Ratliff, who'd had his share of run-ins with both the law, the local women and men. Then a terrible fire killed Adam's sister, and Tommy, the chief suspect, was forced to run away. Ten years later, an eerily similar fire seriously injures Adam's husband, Kris, who happens to be Tommy's brother. With the earlier fire still an open case, suspicion turns to Adam, the only unharmed person connected to both tragedies.
Also: This is the chapter you've probably all been waiting for. I'm such a tease, I just give you a little taste?
(if you know what I mean...)
Katy wiggled into her bra. It was no use trying to seduce Neil when he was in one of his moods. He didn't seem to notice her anymore. Oh, sure, he'd drive her all the way to Los Angeles on the pretext of taking her to a movie, then he'd pay for a room in this dump of a motel and he'd make love to her, but he wasn't really with her; not like he used to be. And he didn't even know the truth.
Dark hair mussed, he was lying on the bed, and smoking a cigarette. A reporter was going on about the heat wave, how long it was going to last, how bad it was for the crops, how people shouldn't water their lawns (like they had any). Who cared?
Rolling off the bed, she walked to the window and peered through the blinds. Across the street a restaurant claiming to serve authentic Northern Chinese cuisine was bustling with activity. Under the streetlights, men and women flocked to the front doors, laughing and talking. Holding hands. Falling in love. How long had it been since Neil held her hand? Or took her out? She swallowed the lump forming in her throat. It didn't work to cry with him; it only served to make him angry, and Neil's temper was worse than her own. Fingering the blinds, she tried to imagine what life would be without Neil Lambert. The thought was terrifying, and yet she felt a gnawing deep inside her, a fear that she was losing him.
Katy's heart tore a little. Once upon a time she and Neil had been in love. He would have walked through heaven and hell to be with her, but now . . . she glance at the bed where he lay, his eyes at half-mast, a neglected cigarette growing ash between his fingers. Tall and lean, well-muscled and tanned, he was the second son of Eber and Leila Lambert, as strapping as his father, as good-looking as his mother. He was arrogant and knew that as the son of the richest man in San Diego and Los Angeles, any number of girls would climb willingly into his bed. As she had. The daughter of a business man, no less. But she hadn't slept with him because he was rich; she'd made love to him that first time in the backseat of his Mustang because she loved him with a passion that wouldn't die. He hadn't even had to take her out.
She felt more than a little shame, because, before Neil, she hadn't let a boy touch her. Several had tried to get their sweaty paws into her bra, but she'd been selective because of Neil. She'd known she was in love with him when she was only eleven years old and had confided in Alli that someday she was going to marry him. Alli had laughed. Who would want her brother, who, at sixteen, was gawky, all arms and legs with a bad complexion? But Katy had known. Even then. And she'd save her virginity for him. She planned to marry him and th e subject had come up more than once, usually at her suggestion, but lately, Neil didn't have much time for her.
Tonight, while the air-conditioning wheezed and the television muted, they'd made love. Once. And it had been a lot of work. Almost a duty. At first Neil hadn't been all that interested -- His mind on other things - but eventually she'd teased him into putting aside his problems back hime in San Diego and he'd responded to her new black bra and garters. Now, though, as he stared at the televison and it reflected in blue shadows across his face, she could have been bare-ass naked and he wouldn't have cared. Something was bothering him, and not for the first time, he was shutting her out. She tried again. Moving sensually and catlike to the bed, she crawled up the mussed covers, between his legs, letting her breasts, which he used to love, hang down into the tight little cups of her push-up bra. She licked her lips. "Maybe we should go out," she cooed, her voice low and sexy, her breath whispering across his abdomen.
He flicked a glance at her. "Later."
"Why not now?" She kissed his navel, but beneath his shorts she saw no erection springing to life.
"I just want to watch the news. Okay?" He didn't bother hiding his irritation as he jabbed out his cigarette.
"You can watch it tomorrow. Right now, we could have some fun . . ." She trailed her tongue up his sternum and teased at a nipple.
"Are you really that horny?"
"With you? Always." She lifted an eyebrow and tossed her elegant mane of thick blonde hair. Neil's lips moved slightly.
"Then prove it."
"What?"
His eyes narrowed into wicked slits. "Prove it, Katy," he said, lifting her up so that she had to straddle his chest. "Put on your best show."
"I-I don't understand."
"Sure you do. Make me want you. So that I never think of another woman. Show me what you've got that makes you so special." He snapped a grater against her thigh and she jumped. Then his finger hooked under the front clasp of her bra and he dragged her closer to him, so that his breath fanned her nipples beneath the black lace. "Show me how I make you feel; get down and dirty."
"I-I love you," she said, her voice quivering a little. He scared her when he got like this, when he seemed so desperate for something . . . something more than she could give him. And beneath the fear, she felt anger. Just a tiny spark, but anger nonetheless.
Oblivious to her warring emotions, he leaned back against the pillows, stacking his arms behind his head, staring up at her. "Good. Then prove it," he said with a cruel glance. "C'mon, baby. Do me."
**********************************************************
With the moonlight for his guide, Adam hunched low over Red's shoulders and hug his heels into his ribs. He hadn't bothered with a saddle and rode him bareback, clamping his legs firmly around his sleek sides. The game colt took the bit in his teeth and raced across the dry grass, his hooves thundering as he kicked up dust. Wind screamed against Adam's face, bringing fresh tears to his eyes. He knew running the horse flat out through the fields was dangerous, but he didn't care. All he wanted to do was erase the image that seemed burned into his brain.
He rode through the connecting fields until he could feel the horse breathing hard, then pulled up and let him walk in the shadow of a copse of oak and maple trees. Away from the lights of the ranch, he gazed into the dark heavens to the millions of stars that winked against a sea of black. Red yanked on the bit. shaking his head and rattling his bridle, trying to communicate with him that he was still the boss, but Adam was having none of it. The colt had become more docile since Tommy had been working with him but he was still too headstrong and Adam didn't let him get too close to the overhanging branches of the trees for fear that he would try to escape and scrape him off. His shoulder was still a little tender, and he didn't want to risk another injury.
"Come on," he said, clicking his tongue and riding along an overgrown trail where the scents of honeysuckle and skunkweed mingled with dust in the dry air.Adam spit to clear his throat and guided the horse up a small rise where remnants of an abandoned sawmill camp still stood. The buildings were weathered and rotting, windows broken long ago, roofs collapsing on the old sheds where men had once cut timber into peeled logs and two by fours. That was a long time ago, before loggers had chased the stands of old growth farther into the hills and before the old man-made pond had dried up. The empty pond, flat as a fritter and stretching for half a mile, was his destination. A horse could gallop across the smooth surface without fear of stumbling in a mole hole or tripping over a log hidden in the tall grass. "Let's go," Adam said, once again digging his heels into Red's sides. The colt responded, lunging forward with enough speed to steal Adam's breath. Wind whistled past his ears as Red's long legs stretched and bunched, reaching farther, hooves thudding in sharp counterpoint to the rapid beating of his heart. "That's it," he said as the horse streaked across the old pond. At far side a grass-covered dike kept the swift water of the river from leaking into the dry poond bed. He pulled on the reins and caught his breath as Red turned. Yelling at the top of his lungs, he urged him forward. The colt bolted, hurtling over the flat surface again.
Exhilaration swept through his blood as he squinted against the moonlight-drenched fields. Tears burned his vision and he forgot about everything except the powerful animal beneath him, feeling his muscles strain as he raced against the wind, faster and faster. "Run! Run, you devil!" he cried as the ground swept beneath them. Heart pounding, he felt Red's sweat lather against his legs and heard him breathing hard. Finally, he pulled up at the edge of the pond and, gasping, let him walk over the weed-covered dune to stop near the dilapidated old sheds of the sawmill. "Good boy," he said, patting his wet side. "You're the best." He slid to the ground. The stubble of thistle and grass tickled his legs, but he barely noticed. As soon as he was off Red's back, Red snorted and half-reared. The colt tossed his headm stripping the reins from his fingers, sending fire through his injured shoulder. "Hey, wait! Woah--" he commanded, ignoring the pain screaming down his arm as he lunged to catch hold of the leather straps.
Red let out a triumphant neigh and twisted as he reached for the damn reins. "Hey--Red--" Red bolted forward, his hooves pounding out a sharp tattoo against the hard ground as he disappeared over the grassy dike. "Damn it all to hell!" Adam yelled in frustration, kicking at the ground with the toe of his worn Converse shoe. Now he was in for it. But good. He couldn't possibly track down the mule-headed horse in the middle of the night. The ranch stretched for thousands of acres, and though each portion was fenced off from the others, Red could roam through the connecting fields or the foothills, some of which were thick with scrub oak and brush. He'd have enough trouble finding him in the full light of day.
At dawn, when Matt made his rounds, he would discover Red missing and there would be hell to pay. Adam cringed at the thought. As things stood now, if he made it back to the house undetected and kept his mouth shut, Tommy would probably be blamed for the missing horse. And it would serve him right for letting Alli lead him around by his . . . well, his nose. He swore under his breath, already knowing that he wouldn't let him take the fall. Tommy would lose his job for sure, and it wouldn't be fair. Although it warmed a cold, vengeful part of his heart to think that Tommy and Alli would be thwarted and wouldn't be able to see each other as easily as they could while he worked for Eber Lamber, Adam couldn't blame for his own idiotic mistake. "Son of a--" He heard it then, the unlikely huff of air--almost a snort. The warning hairs on the back of his neck lifted one by one, and he squinted into the darkness, wondering what he could use as a weapon. Sometimes bums wandered through the hills and spent a night or two in whatever shelter they could find at the old sawmill. His throat turned to sand.
"Lose something?"
Tommy's voice was a dark whisper that sent Adam's already-pounding hear into a sharp double-time. Whipping around, he found him leaning up against a beam holding up the sagging porch of the old cook shed.
"What're you doing here?"
"I think that's what I should ask you."
Adam tried to hold on to some shred of his dignity. "I thought I'd go for a ride."
"Is that what you were doing?"
"Yes! Since no one will let me ride my horse--"
"Because you can't handle him."
"I can!"
"Didn't look like that to me," he drawled, his grin flashing white and infuritating Adam.
"You probably spooked him," he argued, though he knew in his heart that Tommy was right. He'd lost control of the mean-spirited colt.
"Yeah, right." He barked out a laugh and Adam heard the jangle of bridle. For a foolish second he thought Red had returned until he noticed the dun-colored gelding tethered to a post near the old pump house.
"How'd you know where I was?"
"Followed you."
"You what--?" he asked, his heart knocking painfully as Tommy pushed himself away from the post and strode away slowly over to Adam.
"Serves you right. You were spying, Ad," he said, his voice familiar as he said his name. He stopped just in front of Adam and Adam felt suddenly young and small.
Shaking his head, he said, "I don't spy--"
"Sure you do. And you saw me with Alli at the pool, and you jumped to all sorts of conclusions."
Good Lord, couldn't he hear Adam's heart drumming wildly? He wanted to deny it, to tell Tommy that he was mistake,but the words seemed frozen on his tongue. "I . . . don't--"
"Don't lie, Ad. It's not your style."
A breeze, blowing hot over the hills, stirred the grass and somewhere off in the thicket of trees and owl hooted softly, only to be answered by a horse's nicker. Red! He should go and try to catch him, but right now he was mesmerized by the moonlit fields, the dark shadown of the night and Tommy Ratliff. He let out a tremelous sigh. "Okay, so I saw you."
"And you got mad--"
"I did not--"
"Shh." He pressed a callused finger to Adam's lips and shook his head. "You're doing it again," he warned in a voice so low he could barely hear his words.
"But how did you--?"
Tommy stared at him long and hard. "That's the strange thing. I felt that someone was watching, which isn't something new. I've felt it before. I thought it might be Robbie - you know how he sneaks around - or maybe your old man checking out his daughter, but there was something in the air. Oh, hell, what do I know? But I heard you run off, trip and swear under your breath."
"I didn't say a word."
"Didn't you?" he asked and his finger moved slowly, tracing the edge of Adam's lips in a slow motion that caused a swirling sensation in the pit of Adam's stomach.
Involuntarily he licked his lips and touched the pad of Tommy's finger, tasting salt and tobacco. For a moment Tommy didn't move, just stared down at him, his eyes narrowing into slits in the moonlight. "What do you care if I'm with your sister?"
The words balled up in his throat. "I don't--" Tommy tilted back his head and Adam knew he was falling into the trap of lying again - to protect his identity as well as his pride. "I - I guess I, um, don't like her manipulating you."
"You don't have to worry about that."
"You don't know her."
"Maybe not yet. But I will."
Adam's heart seemed to shatter. "She'll hurt you and use you and--"
"I don't think so." He dropped his hand, and his gaze seemed to soften a little. "I'm asking again. What do you care?"
"I just don't like it when she tries to twist men around her fingers."
"She hasn't twisted me."
"Yet."
"She asked me to go to that big deal of a party thrown by the O'Connells'."
"I heard. You said you'd go."
His smile turned brittle. "Me and BM. We go way back."
Adam had heard stories, of course, rumors about Tommy's wild youth. How he'd nearly killed his brother once with a gun neither bot thought was loaded. Kris still bore the scar of a bullet hole in his shoulder. The weapon, a small pistol that one of Summer's men-friends had inadvertently left as her trailer, had been returned to the man. There had been other stories as well, but for some reason, no charges had ever been filed against Tommy. "I don't think it's a good idea for you to go with Alli," he blurted suddenly.
"No?" Tommy's fingers curled into a fist, which he used to lift his chin so that he would have to meet his eyes. "Why not? Won't I fit in?"
"That's not the reason," he said, barely able to breathe. The night seemed to close around them. "Maybe you're jealous."
"No," he whispered and Tommy smiled.
"There you go lying again, Ad. Didn't I tell you it doesn't suit you?"
Adam knew he was going to kiss him, yet when Tommy's lips brushed gently over his, Adam wasn't prepared for the quake that slid down his entire body or the feel of him so close -- the smell of him so earthy and male. With a groan, Tommy grabbed him roughly, drawing him fast against the hard angles of his body. Lips that had been so gentle turned rough. Adam's blood began to pound in his temples. The tip of Tommy's tongue slid like a supple knife against the seam of Adam's lips, and he opened his mouth to him. Groaning, he gather him closer still, dragging his willing body against his, crushing hsi chest to the unyielding wall of Tommy's.
Adam's heart was thundering, his blood pumping wildly. It seemed the most natural act in the world when his knees buckled and he pulled Adam onto the ground. His kisses turned anxious, his tongue flicking across the roof of Adam's mouth, sending ripples of pleasure through Adam's limbs. "Ad," he murmured into his open mouth. His hands moved easily over his bare chest and he touched one nipple with his thumb and Adam gasped, his abdomen pressing against his own spine. "This is what you wanted, isn't it?" he said as his fingers joined his thumb and he gently kneaded one small mound. Adam couldn't answer, didn't dare breathe. Feeling the chain holding his St. Christopher's medal, he paused. "Still wearing this?"
"Always."
He picked up the silver disk; it winked in the moonlight. He held the disk between his pecks (lol), pushing the engraved metal against his skin. Closing his eyes, he shook his head, as if to regain his composure, as if he was going to stop, and Adam, heart beating, drew his head down and kissed him again, his inexperienced tounge pushing eagerly into his mouth. Tommy groaned in protest. "Adam--" Adam's fingers splayed over the soft fabric of his shirt, instictively searching for his flat nipples. "Don't--" he whispered.
"Please--"
"You don't know what you're asking."
"I know I'm with you." He kissed him hard and Tommy responded, giving in to the demands of his body. Rough hands moved expertly over Adam's skin, sending shivers down his spine, and stoking fires feep within him, dark sweet fires he stoked so well.
"Tell me no, Ad--" he said, touching him and causing sweet sensations to spark through his blood. "For fuck's sake." His arms surrounded him and he drew Adam upward, forcing his spine to curve away from the ground a s he touched a nipple with the tip of his tongue. A tremor ripped through Adam and Tommy groaned, his breath hot against skin. Adam arched upward and Tommy kisses him again. Adam's body ground against his, his fingers curling in the thick strands of his hair. A deep, moist need began to awaken and yawn between his legs. The world seemed to blur as the hand at the base of his spine pulled him closer still and he felt another stiff bulge beneath Tommy's fly. Soft, worn denim couldn't hide his erection, and he rubbed it against his skinny jeans. One hand slid up the inseam of his jeans, touching the elastic of the leg of his briefs. Tommy shifted, so that he could slip his finger past the flimsy barrier of cloth. Adam's mouth went dry, and he cried out as Tommy's fingers parted him, exploring and touching. Adam gripped his head, and his teeth pulled on his nipple as Tommy touched a part of him Adam hadn't known existed. The world began to spin as Tommy stroked him, and Adam moved with his rhythm, breathing hard and fast, holding him tight as a pressure, sweet and dark, built inside Adam, a pressure so blinding that he thought of nothing other than moving with him. He thought he might explode and still Tommy worked, his finger dipping in and out, his tongue licking his skin.
"That's a boy," he whispered across Adam's chest as Adam began to gasp in sharp little breaths. "Let go."
"Tommy--"
"Come on. It's all right, I'm here."
Adam's body convulsed. The ground shifted beneath him, and his bones seemed to melt as the stars behind his eyes collided. "Oh, fuck," he whispered, feeling his hand withdraw, leaving that which was once hot instantly cold. "Oh, fuck! Oh, shit." And all at once it was over. Adam let out a shaky breath. Tommy rolled away from him with a curse and left Adam breathless and covered with a sheen of his own perspiration. "Tommy?" he whispered, once his heartbeat had slowed. He heard him strike a match and watches as the flame illuminated his face.
"You're a virgin." He drew hard on his cigarette; it glowed bright in the dark. Why did it sound like an insult?
"I'm only seventeen."
"Hell." Tommy wiped a hand over his brow and shot out a stream of smoke.
"You knew how old I was."
He smoked in silence, and Adam was suddenly embarrassed, as if somehow he'd disappointed him. Adam looked down at his chest, small and white nipples that were larger than usual, and he felt ashamed as he looked up again. "What is it you want from me?"
"Nothing!"
"Nothing? After what just happened?"
"Nothing happened?"
"How can you say that after . . ." His voice cracked.
"So you came. Big deal."
Adam was shocked. Was that what had happened? He'd come -- had an orgasm? "But you . . . you didn't." He knew enough about bulls and stallions, and what men did, to realize Tommy'd somehow denied himself. Or that he didn't want to go all the way with him.
"Look, Ad, if you're horny, you can do yourself. You don't need me."
"You mean--?" He drew away, disgusted.
"Happens all the time." Standing, Tommy dusted his hands on his jeans.
"I don't want to--"
"Then don't. It's none of my business." He stared at Adam, and disgust curved the corners of his mouth. "Are you ready to leave?" he said, dropping his cigarette onto a boulder and squashing it with the toe of his boot. "Maybe we should try to find your horse."
"And just forget that we nearly--?"
He reached down and hauled him to his feet. "As I said, nothing happened. It was no big deal. I got a little carried away and thought you should at least experience what it's like to get your rocks off, that's all!"
"Bull! You felt it, too!" he said, stung.
"I feel it with a lot of people."
"I don't believe you."
"Including your sister!" he said, and Adam felt as if the flick of a whip had cut right through his heart.
He shrank away from Tommy. "You couldn't!" he cried. "Not now. Not when you just--!"
"You saw us by the pool."
"But--"
"You should've stuck around for the real show." His mouth twisted into a grim, bitter line. "Maybe then you could've learned into something. Your sister, she's a real hot pants."
With a gasp, Adam hauled back and slapped him so hard that the sound richocheted off the surrounding hills. He grabbed his arms and held them over his head. "Don't hit me," he warned, his face turning savage in the darkness. "And take tonight as a lesson. Don't be giving it away for free just to any boy."
"I wouldn't."
"You nearly did."
Angling his face up to him, he said, "I thought nothing happened."
He snorted. "Only because I'm so goddamn noble."
"I love you!"
Tommy froze and silence prevailed over the night-washed land. Adam stared him straight in the eye. "Adam," he said and his voice gentled. "You don't have to try and mix up lust and love. You . . . you wanted to experiment and see what it was like to get laid and that's not really all that bad, except when it becomes an obsession like with your sister, but shit, you don't have to tell a guy you love him just because he got into your pants."
"I wound't let anyone in I didn't love."
"Oh, hell--"
"I love you, Tommy Ratliff, and I wish I didn't." He inched his chin up a notch, and Tommy shook his head. Some of the hard edges left his features, but a trace of sadness touched his eyes.
"You don't love me and I don't love you. And we're never, never going to have this conversation again." Slowly he lowered his arms and released him. "What happened between us a few minutes ago is over. I made a mistake. I thought I was doing you a favor--"
"Like hell, you wanted me!"
"Just because a guy gets a hard-on--"
Adam threw his arms around his neck and kissed him with renewed passion borne of desperation. Tommy was trying to break it off with him before it ever got started. "I love you. Tommy," he said and Tommy's body tensed, but he didn't shove him away amnd his lips held his. His arms surrounded him, pulling him close to him, muscle straining against muscle, heart pounding next to heart. His groan was one of tortured surrender, and Adam felt him dragging him down to the ground again only to stiffen with sagging knees.
"No!" he growled, throwing him away from his so that Adam stumbled backward and nearly fell. "Don't you get it, Adam? This isn't right. You're jailbait and I'm on probation with your father as it is!" He strode over to his horse, grabbed the reins and tossed a look over his shoulder. "Coming?"
Adam's cheeks were hot with embarrassment and tears threatened his throat and eyes, but he found some bit of dignity and nodded. "Good." Tommy slapped the reins in Adam's hands. "Go home and go to bed. I'll take care of Red."
"No, I'll--"
"Don't be silly, Ad. This is the only way it'll work."
His fingers curved over the soft leather straps, and humiliated beyond belief, he climbed into the saddle. Yanking on the reins, he eyed Tommy from astride the gelding. "You know, Tommy, you can say anything you want and believe whatever makes you feel better, but I love you and I probably always will." Tommy glared up at him but didn't move. The horse twisted and reared as he added, "In the future, please, don't do me any more favors!"