The Lost by Caridad Pineiro

Author:Caridad Pineiro [Pineiro, Caridad]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Paranormal, General, FIC027120
ISBN: 9781455500604
Google: npp4kC67jW4C
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2011-07-31T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER

20

The sights and sounds of that Baghdad morning came alive in her dreams again, but instead of the explosions, it was sunburst blasts of energy strafing a dusty dawn. Smashing into pieces anything that dared to stand in their way.

Something landed beside her with a thud.

Bobbie looked down at the bloodied and burned remains of a sandy-haired body. She battled back a gag as the smell of roasting flesh filled her nostrils. Dropping to her knees, she murmured a prayer that it wasn’t him.

That it not be Adam.

The skin beneath her hand was familiar. Still warm. A shimmer of the blue lingered. Death hadn’t had a chance to steal those remnants of life.

Forcing herself to act, she flipped the man onto his back. A charred and empty hole, ragged flesh, and pink and white shards of bone were all that remained of his face.

She screamed.

Bobbie twitched beside Adam and her long, low wail drove him awake. He cradled her in his arms and she flailed at him, caught in the throes of a nightmare. Her fitful actions and pitiful cries tore at his heart, a place he had thought oblivious to such emotion after its long disuse.

“Bobbie, it’s all right,” Adam said, holding her close and rocking her like a baby, willing her to wake from her terror. As he did, waves of calming energy drifted from his body to hers. Slowly she came round, her gaze losing the unfocused look of shock and swinging to meet his. He sensed her apology coming, but stopped it.

“It’s okay. We’re together,” he said, tracing the line of her brow to smooth the deep furrow there.

She nodded and tunneled her hands through the short strands of his hair, hauled him close for a deep kiss. One of tortured need, not of passion. This kiss was meant to drive away the demons, and sadly, Adam understood the need all too well. He had felt such want himself more than he cared to admit.

There was no finesse this time. No slow and careful taking.

She was on him before he was completely hard, burying him within her, riding him urgently before a sharp gasp stilled her motion.

Her leg was bringing her pain, he realized. She had taxed it with the wild and frantic motions pushing them to climax. Wanting to soothe, he ran his hand up her thigh, along the ridges of scars and knotted muscle.

She jerked with shock and then paused to track with her gaze the path of his hand and the slight glow beneath his palm. She winced as he traced a finger along one particularly defined scar.

“It’s ugly,” she said, and grasped his hand, arresting his journey.

“No, it’s not,” he said, and with gentle strength, he reversed their positions, urging her to her back.

He moved downward, pressed a kiss above her knee, just below the first evidence of her injury. Her body jumped beneath him, but not with desire.

He moved an inch farther, to the first jagged line, silvery pink against the creamy beige of her skin.

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