Midnight Storm (The Warriors)

by Laura Taylor

  He felt her body tremble like a leaf battered by gale force winds. His own hunger reared up inside him, shocking him with its intensity and further diminishing his own control.

  Jessica displaced his worry over her emotional state when she curved her fingers over the throbbing flesh trapped behind his jeans. She struggled a moment later to release his zipper. Dev breathed a lethal–sounding word and embraced the woman who seemed intent on his possession, regardless of the consequences, regardless of their circumstances.

  He urged her off his lap, freed himself of his jeans, and then helped her shed what remained of her clothes. He eased her back down, intending to gentle her with his own restraint, but he groaned in defeat when he felt her hand close around the base of his shaft.

  Her body consumed him as she sank down around him. She flowed over him like liquid fire, forcing him to penetrate her depths. Nearly overcome by the sensations she evoked, Dev gripped her hips and held her in place for several long moments. She fought his resistance the only way she could. Her interior muscles squeezed his shaft, milking him with a hot honeyed strength that made him draw in a sharp breath even as she rocked against him.

  Her aggression brought to mind hard, fast sex, a ruthless, mindless mating of man and woman, but he knew Jessica needed more, deserved more. He intended to give her just that.

  A ragged sigh escaped him, and then another. When Jessica squirmed suddenly and broke free of his hold, he caught her breasts with his hands and taunted her nipples with his fingers. She began to rhythmically surge and buck against him as she gripped his shoulders.

  He knew she sought liberation from her fear. He ached deep in his heart in response to her obvious need and her willingness to trust him with her reckless emotions.

  The destruction going on outside almost caused him to miss her feverish plea, "Love me, Dev. Please, love me."

  He felt the desperation that drove her. He also found it impossible to deny her what she needed. Hell, he could no longer deny himself, either. But he would make love to her, not simply screw her into a meaningless release. For them, anything but love–making would dishonor what they’d once shared—and what he prayed they would share in the future.

  She moved against him like the storm that threatened their lives—a midnight storm of dense shoulder–length black hair, flashing blue eyes, clever hands, swollen breasts, and alabaster skin. She resembled streaks of lightning gone wild in a night–darkened sky, and he was helpless to resist her.

  He felt the change that started deep inside her the instant it began. She quickened, her body clasping and unclasping his sex until he feared he might break free of his own tenuous control.

  Without allowing their bodies to part, Dev shifted her sideways, rolled her beneath him, and thrust even more deeply into her. She brought her arms up and around his neck. She circled his hips with long, shapely legs. Their mouths fused, hearts raced.

  He promised himself he would make her scream with pleasure, but it occurred to him that he might not hear all the sounds she made. He knew he would feel them, though, and some instinct in his heart told him that emotions and sensations were the best possible use of any language.

  He savored the force of her release several moments later. He felt the tremors ripping through her and the stiffening of her body as he repeatedly drove into her. He knew that he couldn’t love her more than he did at this moment, but he felt compelled to provide her with even more evidence of his deepest emotions.

  She cried out his name, and he recognized the sound of her pleasure–filled agony. His body longed to answer. He held back, though, determined to distract her until her fear departed and all that remained was her realization that she couldn’t deny the feelings destined to bind them together forever.

  Aching for completion and aroused to the point of pain, Dev gave her only the briefest reprieve before re–stoking the flames he knew would soon incinerate his own control. He plunged into her, his pace furious, his mouth voracious as he ate at her mouth like a man possessed.

  Jessica came alive in his arms and beneath his pounding loins yet again. Relentless, he drove her beyond reason and directly into the path of unrestrained passion. She arched and bucked against him, meeting his thrusts, countering them with her own until Dev felt nearly insane with the need to end their torturous journey. But he didn’t.

  Instead, he withdrew from her without warning, flipped her onto her stomach, and drew up her hips as he knelt behind her. He entered her with care, the sleek, hot flesh of her body taking him in like a sword fitting smoothly into a scabbard. He bent forward over her, angling his body in such a way that he plunged in and out of her wet heat with quick, deep strokes that kissed her womb. He simultaneously massaged the nub of delicate flesh that crowned her core and pressed open mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin of her nape.

  Dev listened to her shattered cries, and he absorbed the wrenching tremors that simultaneously rocked her and clutched at his sex until he had no choice but to follow an identical path to completion. He died the small death over and over again as pleasure ricocheted throughout his body and numbed his consciousness to everything but the woman in his arms.

  Still joined, they collapsed across the pallet of blankets, both breathless and both achingly vulnerable in the aftermath of their shared passion.

  And beyond the cellar doors, the world sounded as though it was still coming apart at the seams.

  "I’m sorry," she whispered a long while later.

  Startled, Dev tightened his arms around her. "There’s nothing to be sorry about."

  "I went crazy, and I tried to use you." She clenched her hands into fists until her nails bit into her palms. "I did use you."

  "You needed me," he reminded her. "So if you used me, you only did it because I let you."

  "But I panicked, which was stupid. I should’ve known we’d be safe down here."

  "Like I should have known that I’d done everything I could for Dave Winslow before the Search and Rescue team yanked me out of the desert?"

  "It’s not the same, Dev."

  "Why not?" he asked. "I think there are some definite similarities between what happened in the Middle East and what went on a little while ago between us, especially in the control and guilt departments." He ran his hand up and down her arm. "Look at me, Jessie."

  She rolled onto her back, tugged up the blanket caught at her hips, and tucked it beneath her arms. She finally met his gaze in the dim light of the storm cellar. "I’m not usually so… out of control."

  "I wish I could erase that word from your vocabulary."

  "I was like a crazy woman, for God’s sake!"

  "You were frightened, that’s all."

  "I was more than frightened, and you know it. Do you think I like behaving like some kind of reckless lunatic?" she demanded. "It reminds me of…"

  "Monica?" he asked when she didn’t finish the remark.

  "Yes."

  "You aren’t anything like her, Jessie. Besides, what happened between us had nothing to do with a loss of control. It was about two people needing and trusting and loving. And for the record, I needed you just as much as you needed me. Your reckless behavior made me damned hot, and I loved every erotic second of what we shared. Any questions?"

  She blinked, shocked by his admission and by the fury she saw in his dark eyes. Men, she’d already discovered despite her admittedly limited experience with them, were rarely candid about their feelings. "Were you frightened…" of the way I behaved, she almost asked, but she amended it to, "… of the storm?"

  Dev chuckled. "I was too busy dealing with a sexy wildcat to be afraid."

  She stared at him, uncertain and confused. Closing her eyes against his probing gaze, she raised her fingertips to her temples and massaged the ache there.

  "It’s really quiet now that the wind has died down," he remarked.

  Sighing, she opened her eyes. "Maybe the worst is over." She ran her finger along the edge of the blanket. "We need to fi
nd the spare batteries for the radio."

  Dev reached up and curved his hand against the side of her face. "Jessica, you’re pushing me away. I can’t and won’t allow you to do that to me again. It’s taken us ten years to rectify the last mistake we made, and I won’t wait another ten years to be with you again."

  She produced a brittle smile in an effort to deflect the impact of his warning. "I’m fine, just tired and worried about the damage the tornadoes have done."

  She watched as the muscles in his jaw tightened, and she sensed he was on the verge of calling her a liar and a coward. She knew she wouldn’t be able to fault him if he did.

  "It won’t be light for a few hours. Why don’t we try to scare up a weather bulletin while we raid your picnic basket?" Dev flashed a sharp glance in her direction. "I’ve worked up quite an appetite. I suspect you have, too."

  Despite his derisive tone, she held onto her dignity. "It has been a while since our brunch yesterday."

  Jessica grimaced as he sat up, jerked aside the blanket, and got to his feet. Swallowing the lump of regret wedged in her throat, she watched through half–lowered lashes as Dev pulled on his jeans, stepped into his boots, and then went in search of his sweatshirt. She immediately missed his warm, strong body.

  Jessica dressed beneath the blanket. She flinched at the sound of Dev’s earthy curse when he noticed her efforts to shield her naked body from his view. She then cursed herself in silence, recalling as she looked for her shoes a tale about barn doors and horses already departed.

  They snacked from the contents of the picnic hamper. Jessica ate automatically and only for the sake of nourishing her body. Concentrating on her food, she managed not to react to Dev’s silence during their meal.

  She repacked the hamper while he located several batteries in the chest situated against the cellar wall. After restocking the radio, he tuned in the local station, stretched out across the air mattress they’d slept on the previous afternoon, and waited for the next weather bulletin.

  Unwilling to get too close to Dev, Jessica paced. She felt his speculative gaze on her with every step she took, but she gave up trying to settle down and really talk to him.

  She couldn’t relax. Her emotions felt too jumbled up, and she loathed the idea of unraveling yet again in front of him, which she feared doing if she risked verbalizing her conflicted emotions. Once was enough, she reminded herself as her mind persisted in replaying every intimate moment of their stormy passion.

  Jessica paused in mid–step when she heard, "And good morning, WLWS listeners. It’s six forty–five A.M., the sun is up, skies are clear, and the current temperature in downtown Willow Springs is a cool fifty–six degrees. The regional tornado alert was called off by the National Weather Service at four–twenty A.M., local time. All schools and public facilities in the area will remain closed through the end of the week as a result of extensive tornado damage throughout the county…"

  She watched in silence a few minutes later as Dev raised the latch that secured the storm cellar’s double doors and attempted to push them open. When it became clear that something large and heavy blocked the doors, he used brute strength and a tire iron he found in the shelter’s supply chest to force open one of the doors.

  Although Jessica offered to help him as he struggled with the door, the look on his face when he glanced over his shoulder at her made it clear that he preferred to work alone. She persisted, however, pride and indignation spurring her on. "There’s no need to play the hero."

  He paused, wiped the sweat from his face with the sleeve of his sweatshirt, and glared at her. "I’m just a man, Jessica. If you need a hero, check the yellow pages."

  Stung, she stepped back. Wisdom being the better part of valor, she decided to stay out of his way. She managed to do just that, although she hovered nearby in case he changed his mind.

  The radio announcer continued his commentary about damage reports. Jessica thought the man sounded like the voice of doom as he described the death and destruction inflicted upon the southern Ozark region of the country. She didn’t want to believe that her resort had been reduced to toothpicks and kindling, although it sounded as if the entire area had suffered such a fate.

  Dev finally shoved open the cellar doors. "Stay put. I’ll be right back."

  "Dev…"

  "No arguments, Jessica. I’m done with that crap."

  She grudgingly watched him exit the shelter. Standing to one side of the shaft of brilliant sunlight that lanced into the center of the dark cellar, Jessica saw him pause, look around, and then glance back at her. She felt relieved that he couldn’t see the worry in her eyes. Bracing herself for the possibility of extensive damage to the resort, she remained standing at the bottom of the stone staircase as Dev retraced his steps.

  He stopped in front of her, his hands settling like heavy weights atop her shoulders. She searched his face. His grim expression reminded her of how he’d looked after an aircraft accident he’d witnessed as an instructor pilot during their courtship.

  "It’s bad, isn’t it?"

  He nodded. "Real bad."

  "The inn? Is it still standing?"

  "This side looks all right. We’ll check it out first, and then we will deal with everything else."

  She began to step back.

  He tightened his grip on her and held her in place. "Together, Jessica. We will deal with this together. Are you clear on that?"

  She frowned. "Is there a lot of damage?"

  He shook his head in obvious frustration, but he answered her question. "Yes, there’s a lot of damage, but we’re alive. Concentrate on that if you can."

  He slipped his arm around her shoulders. They climbed the cellar steps together this time. Jessica stumbled to a stop a few feet into the debris–littered yard.

  Stunned by the sight that greeted her, she struggled to breathe. Her heart galloped in her chest. Gripping Dev’s hand, she scanned the lakefront acreage. Unable to believe her eyes, she looked around again.

  Jessica wanted to weep. Sagging against Dev, she whispered, "There’s nothing left. Nothing at all." She blinked, as if to make the devastation disappear. "My boat dock. The boats. The guest cottages," she gasped. "Everything’s gone."

  She silently counted six crushed cottages, one still standing but without a roof, and Dev’s, which now resembled an untidy stack of kindling. "Thank God this happened during the off–season. When I think of the lives that could have been lost if…"

  "Let’s check the inn," he broke in when he saw how pale she’d become. Taking her hand, he led her down the side of the sprawling three–story building. "The walls look okay, and the chimney’s intact."

  Jessica stopped abruptly when she saw the condition of the driveway from their position at the side of the inn. She recognized the remains of the hull of one of the bass boats she’d used as a rental for visiting fishermen. Two party barges, battered beyond redemption, lay nearby. The more than three dozen old oak trees that had once lined the long winding driveway now resembled fallen sentries.

  "Something’s missing."

  Dev glanced at her, but he didn’t speak. He simply waited.

  She frowned, scrambling mentally to discern what exactly was missing. Then, she realized that the white fence that had bordered the driveway and lined the frontage of the resort property was gone. Not simply blown over by the fierce winds, but completely missing. Only the deep post–holes remained for as far as she could see down the driveway.

  She staggered as her knees threatened to buckle. Dev grabbed her before she collapsed. She started to shiver, and her teeth began to chatter.

  Dev drew her against his body, wrapped his arms around her, and held her. "Hang on, Jessie. Close your eyes for a minute, breathe slowly and deeply, and just hang on to me. You’re not alone."

  She did as he urged, even though she didn’t believe that she wasn’t alone. While he ran his hands up and down her back and arms, she clutched at his narrow waist, her fingers digging in
to the muscle there. The fog that had claimed her mind finally cleared, and she regained her composure.

  "I’m alright now," she whispered.

  Dev didn’t release her when she tried to free herself. "Are you sure you’re up to this?"

  She looked up at him. "I don’t have any other choice. I know you mean well, but don’t try to stop me."

  "I’m worried about you. You don’t look right."

  Jessica stiffened. "I’ve been on my own for a long time, Dev. Whatever I need to do, I will do."

  "I know you’ve been alone." His voice throbbed with emptiness. "I know that better than anyone."

  She saw the hurt she’d inflicted before he hardened his jaw and concealed the emotions that had briefly flashed across his face. She felt like a fool for being so defensive. "I’m sorry, Dev. It’s just so difficult seeing everything broken and crushed. I’ve put my heart and soul into this place."

  He nodded grimly. "I’ll help you put it back together."

  "Thank you." She didn’t bother to remind him that he had his own life, a life far removed from Willow Springs.

  Dev slipped his arm around her shoulders as they continued across the debris–covered yard. Although they both registered the storm’s ugly results, neither commented on the scrapes and gouges inflicted on the inn’s walls, the missing shutters, or the broken panes of glass in all of the windows. Walking past the closed kitchen door and then circling around the thick trunk and leafy branches of yet another fallen tree, they paused in front of the inn.

  "The veranda looks like someone blew it up with a bomb!" Jessica exclaimed when she spotted the wreckage of shredded and twisted wood.

  Dev examined the front of the inn, searching for signs of structural damage. He saw nothing more obvious than broken window panes, water stains, and sodden drapery panels hanging out of some of the windows. Shattered flower pots and lengths of timber that had once formed the veranda now littered the front lawn.

  Jessica wrenched free of him. "I need to go inside."