David Dun - At The Edge

He looked at her as if he were waiting.

When she said nothing, he said, "Trust me."

Something inside her exploded. Crawling on top of him, she began kissing him. He pulled her tight and kissed her back, his tongue exploring hers. She felt bound and pent up. While she pulled at the peignoir, he slipped it over her shoulders. Reaching beneath her, he stopped kissing her only long enough to slip the gown over her head. They collided so hard she heard their teeth click. With her gently tugging his arm, he rolled on top of her as she began popping buttons on the pajamas.

"Slow down, lover," he said when she had stripped off the pajamas. "Remember I haven't done this in a while."

''You look fine to me,'' she said, holding him and stroking him.

He kissed her nipples while she held the back of his head. Her breasts were large and firm, the nipples dark rose. Then he pulled her on top and began using his hands on her back, caressing in long deep strokes. He could feel her relax and move to his touch. All the time he planted kisses on her face and neck.

''Oh God," she said as he went to work on her shoulders. "This is so good."

Gradually he moved his hands once again to her lower back; then as he felt her telling him, he moved to her bottom and the tops of her thighs, making his touch feather light. Gradually he could feel her hips start to move, grinding on him, trying to find the place. She reached for him to put him inside her.

"My tongue is an instrument of peace," he said with a grin.

"Noooo," she said as he rolled her over. "I haven't-"

''Trust me,'' he said, licking her as she laughed nervously. For a while she was quiet and slightly tense. He went everywhere but the core of her sensitivity. Then gradually he began to flick his tongue.

"Oh my God,'' she cried out as he began the little circles. On her thighs his hands listened for the subtle tremors that guided his tongue.

She grabbed his hair and he knew to keep on and on. Then she pulled him down tight. From deep inside, the groans began as he moved his tongue in rhythm with her hips.

"Trust me, trust me." The words echoed in her body without his ever speaking them again. It was a fierce dance and he could feel her falling into abandon, giving herself away. Tossing her head, she moaned as if in delirium, and chills went up his spine as he felt her going with him. Her glistening belly moved like rippling grass with the tremors through her body. She breathed as if she had sprinted a mile, her whole body finally falling rag-doll limp.

"Now you've done it," she said between breaths, and held his head gently.

''Only once,'' he whispered, moving on top of her, feeling her open like a flower.

Slipping inside her, he could feel her exquisite sensitivity and knew to keep his movements slow and gentle.

"I love you," he whispered in her ear. Her hands gripped his shoulder blades, her nails digging into him. He made his tongue gentle on hers. Then she let her head sink into the pillow, held his face, and looked in his eyes; he knew she saw his hope, his desperation. Gradually he felt her body start to quicken; then he saw her eyelids flutter. Kissing her deep and hard, he knew her wanting even as he lifted his weight so she could move beneath him. Gradually he found her rhythm, then understood it and rolled her on top of him, putting his tongue to her nipple in an echo of her thighs. Perspiration dripped from her as she rode him, her whispers turning to moans in the candlelight until at last his mind lost itself in desire and he gave himself to climax.

Later, she lay draped over him facedown on his chest, enjoying a piece of sushi.

"Don't move," she said when he reached for the tray. She popped a California roll into his mouth. "You're trapped," she said. "You can't go anywhere. You're mine and I've got you."

"I like being got."

"Good."

"This is the deal," he said.

"Oh. Tarzan." She laughed in mock, breathless wonder.

"I will have nothing to do with the Highlands. After that, you do any kind of environmental law you desire but never against timber owned by Otran. Never. Not even a smidgen.''

"Yes?"

"And I will do no timber law except Otran."

"Will Otran go for this?"

"He already has."

"I'll need to talk to Patty."

"We already have."

"We? Who we?"

"Your father."

"Ah, I don't-"

He kissed her heavily on the mouth. "Don't start." He kissed her again. "Trust me."

"You absolutely will have utterly nothing to do with the Highlands."

"Utterly nothing."

"I do love you," she said.

"I suppose you won."

"You won me," she whispered.

Certain that Maria would be recuperating somewhere- probably at her parents'-Corey placed a call to Jessica Lyon. Jessica, a successful fund-raiser, was one of the few members of the McCafferty inner circle who would give her information.

"Haven't heard from you in a while," Jessica said in her usual fund-raising voice.

"So what's going on these days?"

"Well, I'm sure you heard Maria Fischer was kidnapped and escaped."

"No," Corey said. "What happened?"

"Well, nobody really knows. Some crazies snatched her and took her to a barn in the woods."

"Was she hurt?"

"I don't think so. She's in Palmer. Somebody said she called the office this morning."

For the next ten minutes, Corey forced herself to listen while Jessica chattered on about the kidnapping and upcoming environmental issues. Finally Corey closed by dangling a possible donation of $2,500, explaining that she was in Alaska and could do it only after she returned.

The German remained downstairs. Corey was surprised that he had broken so easily. She kept probing for more, but there wasn't any more. With no resistance Hans Groiter told her everything. When she gave him sodium pentathol, he became harder to understand but told her nothing new. She'd had enough experience to know when men were telling the truth. What troubled her was the fact that Groiter knew nothing of the little Jap shit who seemed to haunt her.

Seemingly nothing remained but to get rid of Dan, Maria, and then Groiter. Somehow she needed to convince the authorities that Groiter was the culprit and that he had fled. For that, she had sworn off a grave in the dirt. Bodies had a way of coming to light. She had a different plan for Hans. Even though it was a pain in the ass, she would keep him around for the few days it would take to create all the right fingerprints and other physical evidence.

Janet was turning into a fine soldier. Surprisingly, Corey was attracted to her in more ways than one. They slept in the same bed and both enjoyed the consolation of another warm body-a female body. That was the one thing that Janet had taught Corey instead of the other way around. Perhaps men were completely expendable, after all. And once she got some self-confidence, Janet had guts. So Corey took the risk of including her in her plans.

They needed a couple of extra-large travel cases on wheels and were going to town to buy them.

"Are you ready to go?" Corey asked Janet, who had just come up from the basement after feeding Groiter. True to her word, she gave Groiter real food because he talked.

"I'm ready. I fed the beast, emptied his bucket. He wants clothes, though."

"He's got his blanket. That's enough."

They walked into the garage, jumped in the Land Rover, and headed out the driveway.

"I want to get Kenji Yamada before this is over. That asshole is the one behind all this. Polluting, raping the land. He's gotta die if there's any justice."

"I suppose you're right," Janet said.

They were turning right onto the county road when Corey had an impulse. Reaching under the seat, she pulled out her Colt. From the glove compartment she took out a clean Smith amp; Wesson 9 mm and handed it to Janet. Backing up into the driveway, she turned away from town to check the small side road where she had found Groiter and the Spaniard the day they came calling. Poking the Land Rover's nose down the grown-over track, she saw the broken foliage. She slammed on the brakes.