Free A Shiver At Twilight by Erin Quinn

Carefully, he complied with her need until he was bearing down on her and there was only one place they were not connected. He looked into her eyes as he slid inside her. The edge of sanity, of reason came at her with dizzying speed. Before she’d considered what it meant, she was beyond it, engulfed in the passion and sensation of the moment.
     
    JD drove himself into her, fast, then slow, long strokes than short until he’d built that tension again. She gripped him hard with her thighs, matching his rhythm as the feeling of spiraling and twisting grew tighter and tighter. His answer to her silent plea came hard and powerful and suddenly her body clenched in response and then she was gone. She arched her back as release flooded her senses and tightened her muscles around him. She knew the moment he joined her, his body tense and pushing and then rigid with climax. The feel of him letting go brought her to orgasm again and she held onto his shoulders as the unbelievable feeling washed over her once more.
     
    They lay in each other’s arms afterwards, neither of them moving. She wasn’t even sure she could move if she tried. Slowly he rose up on his arms and stared down at her, laughing as he brushed her hair from her face and kissed her.
     
    “Don’t take this wrong,” he said, and for a moment she braced herself. “But I think I could fall in love with you.”
     
    Carly smiled and then she laughed. “I know exactly how you feel,” she said and kissed him again.
     
     
     
    Chapter Thirteen
     
     
     
    Carly didn't know what time it was when she woke up. She looked around, disoriented, stunned that JD had made her feel safe enough to doze. The fire burned low in the grate and the room was warm. She was dressed again, but for her shoes, lying on the floor by the hearth.
     
    And she was alone.
     
    “JD?” she said softly, sitting up. Panic came on so suddenly, she didn't know how to quell it. “JD?” she shouted.
     
    He didn't answer but behind her, someone took a deep and ragged breath. Carly spun with a gasp, every hair on her body standing on end. A scream had lodged somewhere in her chest and she couldn’t get it out.
     
    The young girl from the photographs—Sissy—stood in the shadows. She wore a smock top with fancy embroidery, the kind they sold in Mexican border towns to American tourists. It dropped from a square neck over swollen breasts to a point just at her hips where her pregnancy pushed against the fabric. The jeans were not so tight now as they’d been in the picture and she wore no makeup at all. Carly felt like she was seeing a hazy reflection of Jillian when she looked at her.
     
    “He doesn’t even know,” Sissy whispered, worrying a wadded up tissue with her hands.
     
    Carly couldn’t make her voice work to ask, who? and what doesn’t he know?
     
    “You can figure it out,” Sissy said, her voice still low and breathless. “Think about the time.” She paused and looked over her shoulder. There was fear in her eyes. Fear, though she couldn’t possibly be real. What did the dead have to fear?
     
    The question made her tremble.
     
    “I thought he loved me,” she whispered, as if the mysterious he might hear. “He used to come to see me in the night. He’d climb the tree, out in back, by my window. We’d sneak up to the attic.” She looked into Carly’s eyes, a faraway glow shining even in the shadows. “And we’d make love. I thought it was real. I thought he was . . . .”
     
    “There’s an attic?” Carly breathed.
     
    “Then he changed. He said he’d kill me if I told anyone about the baby.” Her eyes pleaded, for what Carly didn't know. “He told me to trust him. He’s damned me to hell now.”
     
    Sissy reached out a hand, as if to touch her. Carly braced herself for the feeling of cold nothingness, but it was Sissy’s words that filled her with ice.
     
    “Think about the time,” she repeated. “He’s got her, and he’ll hurt