The Yearning

by Tina Donahue

  “Maybe she should go to the hospital and get checked out.”

  “I’ve already suggested it. She refused.” He turned his head at the sound of the ambulance’s motor. “The paramedics do know to keep Desiree sedated so she can’t speak, right? The moment the sedative wears off and she starts uttering her curses, their lives aren’t going to be worth shit.”

  “They’re with the feds. They don’t intend to take any chances. When you confronted Desiree, you didn’t tell her who you are, did you?”

  “There wasn’t time. Not that I would have anyway. Why?”

  The persistent wind blew Erica’s dark hair into her face. She fingered it away. A pretty woman, her black eyes burned with intelligence. “Before she went under, she kept babbling about your power and how you tried to strangle her with your mind.”

  “The ravings of a lunatic, wouldn’t you say?”

  “If anyone asks, that’s my story.” She crossed her arms beneath her breasts. Fond of weightlifting, she had biceps nearly as impressive as his. “Desiree also said her people were going to come after you and Jasmine.”

  “How long do you think the feds can keep her locked up?”

  “My guess is exactly what you’re thinking—it depends.”

  His belly cramped. “On whether the press finds out about her or the Wanderers put up a stink?”

  She frowned. “Are you serious?”

  “Do you hear me laughing? Of course, I’m serious.”

  “Then why are you asking such a foolish question?”

  He frowned. “Because I’d like a fucking answer. Or are you saying it’s some kind of sacred secret?”

  “No. It’s something you should already be aware of. The feds always have a cover story for enquiring minds, remember? And you can’t possibly believe the Wanderers are going to bring any unwanted attention to themselves. What’s the matter with you?”

  “Besides you criticizing me?”

  “I can’t help it. You haven’t been gone from the service that long to be asking questions like a rookie.”

  He hardened his voice as she had hers, knowing where this was heading—a place he didn’t intend to go. “Let’s keep my stupidity out of this, all right? Now about the feds keeping her locked up—the length of time depends on what exactly?”

  “Jesus, Mike, use your head.”

  “I am. I want to hear it from you, Erica.”

  “Fine.” She sighed. “They’ll hold on to her as long as they find her useful. If she doesn’t cooperate, and that’s always a big possibility—as you well know—they may decide to cut her loose in the hope that she leads them to the group’s inner circle.”

  Exactly what he was afraid of. “And if she disappears?”

  “You won’t have to worry. She doesn’t know who you are. Look,” she added quickly to his muttered profanity, “I don’t think Jasmine has anything to worry about, either. It’s going to be some time before the feds are through with Desiree. I’ll be monitoring the situation and sending you regular updates. No way will you or Jasmine be blindsided. I give you my word as a colleague and a friend.”

  Satisfied, Mike squeezed her elbow. “I can’t thank you enough for the help you provided tonight.”

  “Gratitude isn’t necessary. You know what I want.”

  “I am not returning to the service, Erica.”

  “Why the fuck not?” She uncrossed her arms and punched his tattoo. For good measure, she also slugged his scar. “You haven’t fully fossilized into a nerdy government consultant. There’s still some life yet, I can see it in your eyes. And tonight you proved you could use your power for good. If you don’t believe me, ask Jasmine.”

  He glanced back at her. She’d lifted her face to watch the ambulance. Her eyes held a purity he’d glimpsed a few times these last days, guilelessness, some might have called it. This was the real woman he’d always longed to see and to know. A sweet soul who had saved her inner fire for him.

  Or so he continued to wish. You are such an idiot, he told himself. She wasn’t the kind of woman who liked his type of man. He was as much of an outcast as Desiree. As tortured.

  Jasmine deserved better. He looked at Erica. “I’ll think about it, but I’m not promising anything. Now go and give Connor the good news.”

  “I thought you already did.”

  “He didn’t seem to believe me when I called. You can swing by and talk to him, assure him Desiree’s no longer a threat. Go on, you know you love to play the hero.” He gave Erica his hardest hug, which she tried to outdo. Smiling, he kissed her cheek.

  She muttered, “You’re not fooling me, Stearn. You just want to get rid of me so you can go back to Jasmine.”

  “Do you blame me?”

  “Not at all. I think she’s going to be good for you.”

  She was going to say goodbye as soon as he joined her. She was too honest to do anything less.

  The ambulance pulled away quietly, no siren, its whirling red light illuminating nearby businesses and vegetation. Two police cars followed. A few onlookers watched, then moved down the street, the drama over.

  Jasmine thought of Desiree, captive now, all hope for her future lost. Compassion for the woman brought a new sigh. Desiree’s crime had been so tragic. Loving a man she could never have.

  So now you hurt? she’d asked. You have no idea the pain I go through…

  It sliced through Jasmine, bringing despair as she saw Mike returning for the last minutes they’d spend together.

  She lowered her face, not wanting him to see her as she really was, drab and uninteresting.

  He went to one knee in front of her as she remained sitting on the sand. “You okay?”

  A nod was all she could manage.

  “Jasmine.” His voice caught. He cleared his throat. “Look at me, please.”

  She dug her nails into her palms, wanting to refuse while also needing to see him this final time. Her face slanted to his.

  Grief pinched his strong features. She saw farewell in his beautiful eyes, an apology that they could never be. A sob caught in her throat.

  “There’s no need to feel badly about what happened,” he began. “It wasn’t your fault.” His voice continued to catch. “The curse made you do things you wouldn’t ordinarily have considered. I didn’t help.” He hung his head. The wind swept his hair forward, hiding his face. “I acted like an animal. I know you’re not used to men like me, and I have no illusions about deserving a woman like you.”

  A woman like you? Didn’t he mean plain and boring? Why was he being so nice? She needed him to be cruel so it would be easier for her to return to the colorless existence she’d always known. “And what kind of a woman am I?”

  “You’re so damned beautiful and brave and—”

  “Stop it.” Her voice cut through the night, harsh, mean, truthful. “I’m not beautiful or brave. I’m ordinary and dull. Without the curse, you wouldn’t have given me a second glance at the club. You should know that by now. I’m nothing like what you’ve seen these last days.”

  His face had already lifted. He frowned. “Screw the curse. You’re fucking gorgeous now just as you were before, and there’s not a dull cell in your body. Never criticize yourself like that again. I mean it. You’re everything a man could hope to get.”

  “You’re lying.” She wrapped her arms even tighter, trying to hide what the dress exposed. “I’m not the woman you’ve been intimate with and you know it. You’re just trying to be nice and I wish you wouldn’t. It’s going to make your leaving me and my missing you that much harder.”

  He stared. “What?”

  She averted her gaze.

  “You’d actually miss me?” he asked.

  He wanted her to confirm what she’d blurted so foolishly? Why hadn’t he left with Erica? He belonged with her, not here. Too defeated to deny what she’d said or to argue further, her words came out in a whisper. “Yes, I’m going to miss you.” Couldn’t he see how it was killing her?

&nbs
p; He said something beneath his breath. Hesitation tinged his voice. “You still want me although everything’s over?”

  “Want you? Dammit, Mike, I love you even more now!”

  “Oh my God.” He pulled her into his embrace, crushing her against his chest. “Honey, I adore you.”

  “No you don’t.” She tried to push him away. He wouldn’t stand for it. Weeping, she hid her face in his shoulder, her tears wetting his tee. “You like the woman the curse turned me into, not the real me.”

  His hand smoothed her hair. “You’re both women.”

  “No. I never dress like this. I don’t go to clubs or bars. I enjoy art galleries and museums, reading, and seeing the latest movies. Boring, drab stuff.”

  “Then I’m as uninteresting as you, because I like all of that too. The only reason I’m ever at a club is to listen to the music, not to hook up with women.”

  She ran her hands up his back, gripping his tee. “You’re used to excitement. I spend my days going over accounts and my evenings watching cable.”

  “Yeah—so? I spend my days in front of a computer, remember? When I was with the service, it was five percent excitement and ninety-five percent paperwork or other crap that would put a meth addict to sleep. And don’t you dare trash cable. I happen to like HBO and ESPN.”

  She mumbled, “I hate sports.”

  “Only because you haven’t watched them with me.” His caress shifted from tender to wanting. Lips on her biceps, he said, “I’ll show you what to look for and which teams I’ll expect you to support.”

  Her giggle cut off her tears, though they returned too quickly, along with her doubt. “You don’t know what you’re getting into, Mike. You’ll be disappointed.” In a day or a week or maybe a month he’d realize his mistake and leave, hurting her even more. It had to end tonight. Now. She twisted her body, trying to get away.

  His mouth paused on her neck. “You don’t like this?”

  Her eyes fluttered closed. She whimpered. “Of course I do.”

  “Then you didn’t like the way we made love?”

  She’d willingly give up a year of her life to experience it again. Against all reason, her head fell back, exposing her throat to him. Each kiss drew a new moan from her. “I’ve never known anything as wonderful.”

  “So, prove it to me. Better yet, prove it to yourself.” His hand moved to her breast.

  Her lids slid open. She turned her face to his. Beer scented his breath, lust tensed his body. “How?”

  “I’ll show you.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  He led her to a stand of sheltering palms and positioned her in front of a trunk. Moonlight drizzled through the fronds.

  Jasmine’s heart thumped heavily, hurting her throat. If anyone came by and chanced a look, would they see his hands on her face, tipping it to his? Would they catch what would surely come next?

  As if reading her thoughts, he murmured, “We’re alone.”

  “Someone could still come by.”

  His eyes glimmered. “Does that excite you?”

  To her surprise, it did. She knew Mike wouldn’t shame or hurt her. She trusted him completely. There’d be no intrusions, just the threat of it—an exciting illusion, their carnal fantasy. She answered finally, “Yes.”

  He angled his mouth over hers, his kiss light, still questioning her response.

  She flattened her palms against the bumpy trunk, her mind and body powerless to stop this. Accepting his tongue, she drew it deeply inside—wantonly, like she’d been while cursed. Eagerly, as she was now.

  Heartened, he pushed the thin straps over her shoulders, lowering the top of her dress to expose her breasts. Damp wind swirled around her nipples, a further reminder of her partial nudity.

  She imagined others gathering to witness Mike’s hand on her right breast, his mouth now moving away from hers to seek her left nipple. In her mind, she saw the young male servers from the bar and the twenty-something guys they’d served, their youthful eyes riveted and uncivilized, watching as Mike drew her breast between his lips, sucking the areola. Jasmine pictured the rosy circle puckering with his wet embrace.

  His resultant growl told her he approved, though he expected more.

  Back arched to allow him greater contact, she spread her legs in submission so he could take what he truly wanted, the same as she.

  Mike held off. He indulged himself at her breasts, deliberately lingering on each nipple, knowing how naked it made her feel to be enjoyed in a public place, how deliciously used. Her mind wandered between the reality of his greedy mouth and her clenching cunt to the dreamlike world of her thoughts. In them, the male servers urged him to tear the dress from her then trap her hands above her head while he fucked her hard. The college boys grinned at Mike mounting her and Jasmine’s breasts quivering with each powerful thrust.

  The forbidden images culled a moan from Jasmine, followed by a choppy sigh.

  He straightened. The air rippled over her nipples, molded by his tongue into hard, moist peaks. Looking down at her bared breasts, he lifted her skirt above her navel jewelry. “Keep your dress up so I can touch you. And don’t close your eyes.”

  She studied his arousal, which was no greater than hers, her gaze on him as he demanded.

  His hand sauntered past the dangling diamonds to between her legs. A muscle in her belly jumped. Blood scalded her throat. Thumb on her clit, he drove three fingers inside, eliminating her ability to think, to breathe.

  Her head fell back, lightly bumping the trunk. Above, long leaves shifted with the breeze, partially obscuring the moon. Here, Mike’s fingers moved inside of her, stretching, preparing, owning.

  “I told you to keep your eyes on me,” he said.

  She heard the challenge in his voice. The authority. It thrilled and warned her to yield.

  Her gaze dropped to his. “I won’t look away again.”

  “If you do, you won’t get this.” With his free hand on her ass keeping her still, his thumb rubbed her clit.

  Her hips jerked. A flood of torment gathered between her legs. His thumb made small, lazy circles. He regarded her to see their effect. She hid nothing—not her delight, arousal, or love. It enriched the act as no fantasy or spell could, his embrace and passion purging every constraint. She came effortlessly and harder than all the times before. Her mouth hung open, liberating a coarse grunt. Though her eyes were still on him, they were unfocused. At last, her mind was at ease. She didn’t care who saw. All that mattered was Mike.

  He thanked her with a deep, prolonged kiss. During it, his hand moved to his fly. She heard the scrape of metal as he lowered his zipper. Next, his rigid shaft brushed the inside of her thigh, his skin silky and hot.

  Impatient, his mouth abandoned hers. He snapped out his orders. “Put your arms around my neck. When I lift your ass, wrap your legs around me. Lock one ankle over the other. Don’t worry, I’ll have you.”

  Her arms wreathed him, just as he’d instructed. “I’m not worried. With you beside me, how could I be?”

  At her trust in him, a wave of pleasure and pride passed over his face. “Tell me again that you love me.”

  Tenderness and adoration hushed her words. “I love you, Mike.”

  He swooped down and kissed her neck, simultaneously cupping her buttocks and pulling her up. Without hesitation, Jasmine clasped his lean hips with her thighs, folding her calves over him, holding her right ankle with her left.

  His strength impressed her. More easily than she believed possible, he lodged her between the trunk and himself, which allowed him to guide his cock inside, the angle enhancing his stiffness and length.

  Marvelously impaled, Jasmine closed her eyes at his assured thrusts. His short puffs of air competed with the noise of the stubborn wind and lapping surf. She whispered what was in her heart, her desire for him and her love, uncertain whether he heard, untroubled because there would be other opportunities to tell him.

  She wasn’t alone any longer.
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br />   The truth of it freed her even more than Desiree had, allowing her to be wanton and playful. She gave him a lover’s bite on his neck, squeezed her inner walls around his cock and groaned loudly at their climax that came within seconds of each other.

  Her vagina beat fiercely around him.

  Head dropping to her shoulder, he wheezed out his words. “How do you feel?”

  Beneath her elation, a calm she’d never known ran through her. Prior to the curse, she’d been self-conscious and unsure after sex, wondering if she’d responded appropriately to her few boyfriends. Not with Mike. He’d given her the confidence to be herself. For him, and for her, the real Jasmine Dante was good enough. “Content. Satisfied. At peace.”

  His shoulders moved with his jarring breaths. “Because it was as good as before or was it better?”

  Surprised at his question and obvious uncertainty, she moved her lips to his ear. “Better. Nothing came between you and me this time.”

  “I hope nothing ever will. Not even when we go back.” He heaved one last breath and tottered. “I have to put you down. My legs are kind of shot.”

  She lowered her feet. Pulling the top of her dress over her breasts, she moved away from the palm so he could lean against it.

  “Wow and whew.” With an unsteady grin, he slumped into the trunk, clawing his hair away from his face. The wind blew it right back.

  Jasmine gentled a thick strand behind his ear. He chuckled as she eased his limp penis into his underwear and zipped his fly carefully. “Good job. I may let you dress me from now on.”

  “I’d rather undress you.”

  “That’s a given.” He yawned.

  “Mike.” Eyes lowered to his tattoo and scar, she stroked both. “What did you mean when you said you hoped nothing would come between us, not even when we go back?” Her gaze darted to him while her mind recalled the last few days, events that seemed far removed from the present and too troubling to keep as memories from the past. “If you mean Ben, you don’t have to worry.”

  “I’m not concerned about Ben. Are you?”