"I'm not going anywhere with you," Camille stated as she reached for the door handle.
She already had the door open before Niko stopped her, pulling her back inside with the door slamming shut. Before she could start fighting again, he grabbed both her wrists, pulled them behind her to hold fast in one of his big hands as he straddled her legs, pressing her against the back of the seat with his body. Their faces were inches apart, fiery currents of electricity bridging the gap between their eyes.
"Do you have a death wish?" he demanded. "The people looking for me aren't your neighborhood garden variety street thugs, dummy. They're hired mercenaries, trained killers who will do whatever they need to do to get what they want. They'll torture you and they'll kill you."
"You think that scares me?" she screamed into his face. "You have no idea the hell I went through after you disappeared. Damn you, Niko. Damn you for what you did to me." Taking a deep breath, her head falling back on the top of the seat she whispered, "Don't you get it? I already died. You killed me when you left."
The quivering of her body shook him to his core. Her eyes shone brightly with unshed tears in the light of the half moon that illuminated the back window of the car. She looked utterly defeated, offering no more resistance, staring at the top of the car. Breathing in quick gasps, her lips trembled, bringing back memories of times past when he had held her this close. She had been soft and willing in those days, giving him more pleasure and joy than he'd ever thought possible.
Without realizing what he was doing, Niko lowered his head, brushing her mouth tenderly with his own. He kissed her a second time bringing his right hand up from where he'd been clutching her shoulder, caressing her cheek with the tips of his fingers. She sighed, melting against him, returning his kiss until he released her wrists. His left hand came up to tangle in the mass of tousled blond hair that crowned her head.
He raised his head, looked at the contours of her face in the silvery moonlight. This was the face of the woman he remembered, soft and alluring, her long lashes nestled against her cheeks, her lips yielding and ready for his kiss. When her lashes fluttered open to return his gaze, her eyes were darkened with passion, a color close to midnight with the radiance of moonbeams reflected in their depths.
"I've missed holding you, Camille," he breathed as he lowered his head again.
"You're a shit, Niko."
The rage returned, her eyes flashing blue fire as she pulled her arms free from behind her, digging her claws into his chest. The tenderness was gone from this kiss, filling them both with heated desire. He snatched the hem of her blouse up, roughly burrowing his fingers under her bra until he was squeezing and pulling at the flesh underneath.
Camille pulled her mouth free, baring her teeth in a vicious grimace. "You should be horse whipped for what you did to me."
Her nails carved furrows in his scalp as she seized his hair, dragging his head down for another kiss. She ground her mouth against his, sinking her teeth into his injured lower lip. Niko howled in response, throwing her down against the seat and covering her with his body.
The taste of her skin was driving him wild. Her scent, her warmth, even her anger were driving him onward as he trailed his tongue over her throat. His senses were filled with the woman who writhed beneath him.
Her hands found their way under his shirt to clutch at the lean muscles of his back. She hesitated only a moment when her fingers brushed against the cold steel of his handgun. Her curiosity was soon lost under his touch. Dragging her blouse up, he slid his palms over the satiny skin along her ribs to her lace-covered breasts. Her nipples were hard, poking through the lace to graze his fingertips.
The sound that came from her throat was more a growl of anger than of pleasure, but it spurred him on all the same. Clasping her hips, he ground against her, the hardness behind his zipper connecting with her pelvic bone. She pulled open the top of his shirt so that her teeth could nip and her tongue could taste the flesh of his chest.
He worked furiously at her waistband to open her slacks, get his hand inside between her legs. She pushed against his hand when he found her wet and ready, murmuring her hatred of him. Groaning hoarsely as he explored the drenched silkiness of her sex, his free hand went to his belt. It was too difficult to open his fly with their bodies pressed together. He rose up, pulling his hand free of her, fumbling at the zipper, cursing loudly.
Camille took the opportunity to thrash out with her feet, to throw him backward against the far door. A cruel smile curled her lips at the sound of his pained grunt and the look of surprise on his face. She pulled herself up, kicking off her slacks to bare the lower half of her body.
His heart raced at the sight of her naked sex with its golden curls and pale flesh. It had been too long since he had felt her luscious body against his. He reached for his trousers again, tearing at the zipper, freeing the hard shaft behind it.
Camille crawled along the seat, her eyes boring into his as she settled over him, straddling his thighs. The musk of her arousal filled the car and his senses. No other woman had ever had this effect on him; no other woman was as beautiful to his eyes.
He grasped her hips, lifted her body over the hardness that throbbed for her. She growled again as the head of his shaft breached her opening, seeming to find entrance into her sheath all but impossible. Her fingers stole under his shirt, hiking it up as her nails tore at his flesh. She screamed, pushing her weight down, forcing him into her body in one desperate motion.
He was buried deep within her at last, the soft flesh around his unyielding phallus throbbed tightly with a life of its own. She rode him, taking out her anger on his body, growling at him. His staff rammed unmercifully into her flesh until her head banged against the roof of the car, causing her to grunt loudly.
Before she could protest, Niko had her turned, on her hands and knees, so that he could bend over her back, taking her from behind. He heard her cry out when he entered her roughly, felt her buck back against him. There was no way that he would be able to hold out long. His fingers reached under her, between her legs, finding that hard little knot of pleasure and massaging it.
Camille began to shudder, her muscles tightening around him as he lunged deeper. She threw back her head, crying out in heated sobs as she was swept away on the waves of release. A moment later he drove into her, holding there as he spilled his seed deep within her. Her body gave way, collapsing under his and dragging him down with her.
Her breaths came in short gasps under his weight as she turned her head to the side. "I hate you, Niko. I hate you for abandoning me and I hate you for coming back."
Pulling the hair back from her eyes, Niko kissed the side of her head, his heart growing heavy. "I know,
agapi
. I know."
He pushed himself off her with reluctance. The smile on his face was one of remorseful self-condemnation. As he opened the door and stepped onto the rutted dirt of the cornfield to adjust his clothing, he wondered how things in his life had gotten so out of hand. There was no going back to the time when she had smiled at him with love burning in her eyes. All that was left was to try to keep her safe until the current danger could be resolved.
Camille still had not moved on the back seat when he climbed behind the wheel. One glance over his shoulder told him that she still lay, half-naked and shivering, where he'd left her.
"You'd better get dressed," he told her, but still, she didn't move.
It wasn't until he pulled out of the cornfield and back onto the highway that she sat up, reaching a shaky hand for her clothing. He watched in the mirror as she reared back in the seat, pulling her underwear and then her slacks over her long legs before adjusting her bra and re-buttoning her blouse. She found her tennis shoes on the floor where Olan had tossed them earlier, slipped her feet in and tied them with jerking movements.
Her head turned to stare out the window into the dim moonlight, refusing to meet his gaze reflected in the mirror. There was nothing in the car but cruel silence and the tension of antipathy, the emotion emanating from her as assuredly as the pain it hid. With a sigh he focused his attention on the road ahead and the situation at hand.
He would need to find someplace safe to hide during the bright hours of daylight and a different vehicle for the next leg of their journey. It was going to be a long and tiring trip with the angry woman who was once his loving wife, but he was determined to make her feel that love for him again, to see that light burning in her eyes. First, however, he had to keep her alive and well away from the forces that would use her to get to him.
It seemed as though they had been on the road for hours before he pulled off State Highway 164 onto a narrow gravel road. It was pocked with chuckholes and ruts, the car lurching and pitching as it moved along at a slow pace. One look in the mirror told Niko that Camille was curious, surveying her surroundings with interest. She refused to ask him any questions, though. She had not said a word since the incident in the cornfield. The silent treatment was getting old fast. He had spoken to her several times along the way, trying to elicit some reaction. His overtures were met with the same stony silence and no acknowledgement. If she wanted silence then that's what she would have, he decided. He wouldn't volunteer anything to her.
The car pulled to a stop along an overgrown strip of dried mud and gravel. Niko shut off the headlamps, plunging them into the dark void of night. The moon had set, marking the approach of day that would leave them vulnerable to those that hunted them as game. Time was running short and they still needed someplace to hide themselves. He worked fast, ordering her to stay in the car as he pulled a flashlight from the glove box and stepped into the darkness.
Stumbling and nearly falling over the deadfall of branches underfoot, he searched with the beam of the small light until he found what he was looking for, a large pile of brush. The brush concealed the form of a green Ford Taurus, placed there for just such an emergency. He and Olan had several such vehicles stashed throughout the country, as well as caches of money and other necessities. A man on the run has to be prepared for whatever this way of life would hold.
It didn't take long to clear away the brush and find the key hidden in the undercarriage of the car. He climbed inside and tried the engine, breathing a sigh of relief when it fired on the second try. Leaving the motor running he returned to the Impala to check on Camille. She was still sitting in the back seat, her arms folded across her chest, her eyes staring blindly ahead.
He opened the trunk lid, removed his gear and stowed it in the other car. In the back of the Taurus he found a small gun, a few hundred dollars in cash and a small box of supplies in the hidden compartment just above the spare tire. He had everything required to see them on their way. Now all he needed was the cooperation of his wife to get her into the new car so that he could dispose of the old.
