Sacrifice of Passion (Deadly Legends) by Melissa Bourbon Ramirez

what with Sheila Ramsey.
    She’d be a fool to trust him again. Even if it was just for one night.
    An utter, utter fool.
    She stared up at the ceiling, running her hand from her knee up the length of her thigh.
    Vic’s face danced behind her eyes again, his seductive smile taunting her. She swallowed. She’d never had an orgasm with a man. Had never been able to let herself relax enough to let go. Would it be different with Vic?
    Unable to resist the lure of him, she slipped her fingers under the elastic band of her panties, the pads of her fingertips working their way into the swollen folds between her legs. The mere touch of skin to skin blocked every other sound and thought from her head.
    She shuddered with pleasure at the thought of him touching her. Tasting her. Entering her…
    She’d never know him in this way, but she closed her eyes and imagined.
    What would it be like?
    Her hips rocked against her fingers and she moaned. She heard his voice whispering in her ear. Felt his strong hands caressing her. Tingled as she imagined his tongue flicking against the very place she was touching.
    The climax started slowly and built as she circled her fingers, catching a knot of nerves that made her breath catch. She could almost hear him: Just like that, Laney. That’s it. Her breathing grew fast and ragged as she brought herself higher.
    In her mind, Vic was kissing her, whispering that he was sorry for how things had turned out. And it wasn’t her hand but his that finally made her body convulse and her nerves explode in delicious release.
    So real she could almost taste him.
    …
    Morning light filtered through her closed eyelids, but Delaney didn’t want to open her eyes. Her body ached and her head pounded. Too much whiskey the night before. Way too much.
    The encounter with Vic flooded back to her, followed by a rush of heat as her body reacted to the memory of his challenge. The “deal,” as he’d called it. But that implied they’d both gain something from it. She couldn’t fathom what she’d get by accepting. Other than the obvious…
    She tried to block the whole thing from her mind. She couldn’t feel this way about Vic. Not again. Never again.
    She shifted, cold seeping into her bones. She felt the hard surface under her and shivered.
    Wait. This wasn’t her bed. She jolted up as a horse whinnied. Where the heck was she?
    Shaking the sleep from her eyes, she looked around and registered the saddles on saw horses against the wall, bridles and bits, and bales of hay. Oh, God. She’d sleepwalked to her parents’ stable.
    She pushed herself to standing, her heart pounding against her ribs, a frustrated scream catching in her throat. Not again! She’d give anything not to sleepwalk. To go to bed and know that she’d wake up in that same place in the morning.
    She racked her brain, wishing she could remember something about the night. Anything. But, as usual, her mind was blank. She had no memory of falling asleep or of walking as she slept. She inspected herself, relieved to find she still had on the sweat pants and T-shirt she’d gone to bed in. Thank God.
    A prickling sensation, like she was being watched, crawled up her back. She hurried to her feet and braced herself against the cold, dark morning, then quickly made her way back to the house, slipping in unnoticed and hurrying down the hallway to her room. Once in her room, she leaned against her bedroom door and buried her face in her hands. She needed something to help her stop this vicious cycle she was caught in.
    Her parents had their church and Pastor Locke to believe in, but Delaney had long ago given up on faith. And anyone else. No one, not even God, had protected her from her attacker, from the ensuing nightmares, or from her nocturnal wandering. Who could she turn to? Who could she trust when she couldn’t even trust herself?
    She went to the window and looked out at the morning sky, still dark with heavy clouds. The mass of gray let