by Dale Mayer
And that wasn’t good. She couldn’t work energy if her body was stressed. Or depleted. Hearing a sudden noise, she quickly rolled into a tight ball in case it was Connor. Peering over her shoulder, she searched to see if he had come into the room.
Instead, she spotted Remi diving through the water like a seal. She smiled. His system healed here, too. And maybe even more than that, it was a play area for him. Remi gave her an open-mouthed grin.
She laughed. “Yeah, I know. We should have just come here when we first couldn’t sleep.”
She rolled over onto her back and floated, staring up at the glass ceiling above. The full moon shone bright overhead, dropping rays to ripple across the gentle waves. Such a magical feeling.
Now, as the healing water soothed her skin and warmed her heart, she rolled over again and let the water bathe her face. She loved when she was completely submerged and floating in the middle of the water. Not everyone could float mid-distance. Too often they sank or floated to the top. She loved to be completely surrounded, completely protected by the waters.
When her air ran out, she pushed her face to break through the surface and take a deep breath. And went under again.
When she came up several long moments later, it was to find Connor standing at the edge of the pool, standing only in his boxers. He stared down at her worriedly.
She curled into a ball, hiding her body from his view.
“I didn’t mean to disturb you, but I didn’t hear any noise for so long that I started to get worried. Then, when you didn’t surface…” he let his voice trail off. “Are you coming out?”
“Not yet.” And she certainly wasn’t walking out of the protective water while he stood there. The chemistry between them had flashed over far less than this. She didn’t dare. This was not the way she wanted to get to know him again. They’d spent all of their previous relationship in bed.
They’d only wanted each other.
And they’d had each other as often as possible.
Just because she’d accepted the break-up didn’t mean she’d forgotten how combustible they were, given the right circumstances. Naked in a pool definitely qualified.
He picked up a towel from the stack and dropped it beside her.
“Thank you.”
He nodded and turned away. At the doorway, he turned back and said, “Are you okay?”
She hesitated. Then she gave him a small smile and said, “Yes. Thank you.”
“You could have come in here before, you know. You didn’t have to wait until I’d gone to bed.”
“I couldn’t sleep,” she whispered. “I expected you to sleep solid.”
His lips twitched. “I thought so, too, but dreams of angels danced through my head.”
And he walked out, the knit boxers hugging those muscled cheeks.
Remi popped up from where he’d been lying on the side bench. Slipping into the water like an otter, he swam over to her.
“Oh, what am I going to do?” she whispered. “I miss him so.”
*
Connor lay back down on his bed and stared up at the moonlight. Sleep couldn’t be further from his mind. The naked nymph next door completely dominated his thoughts.
He loved her. She couldn’t hide her response to him, even though it didn’t make her happy. She didn’t trust him. She hadn’t forgiven him. Maybe she never would. He had to live with that.
And he would, if he could have her back. Determined to clear the air once and for all, he rose from the bed and walked over to the doorway of the pool room. Keeping his back to her, he said, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Shocked surprise sat heavily in the air.
“Well, you did.” Her tone was short, soft and sad.
It damn near broke his heart. “I know that. And I’m so sorry.”
No answer.
“You hurt me, too,” he added hoarsely.
Still no answer.
He risked a quick glance over his shoulder. She’d swum to the deepest part of the pool and was up against the edge, her lithe body hidden from his view. He hadn’t meant to make her uncomfortable. She meant too much to him for that.
But this seemed like too good an opportunity to pass up.
If she’d just talk to him.
“Genesis?”
“I’m here.”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “I can’t do more than apologize…and show you that I’m different.”
Splashing sounds caught his ear, then the soft slap of wet feet on stone. He turned slowly to see her wrapped up in a towel and standing several steps away from him. The towel end was tucked up under her arm, but wet spots were also developing in the most interesting of places. Her wet hair had been twisted into a rope that still dropped down her shoulder. His gaze dropped to her bare feet. And damn, they’d always been sexy as hell. Petite and delicate looking, they belied the strength of the woman they supported.
Dripping wet, she left tiny footsteps on the stone floor. With a smile, she brushed past him and walked to her room.
“Please, Genesis, take your bed.”
Startled, she looked back at him. “Why? I’m fine here. You go to bed and sleep. Your injury isn’t fully healed. A good night’s sleep is the best thing for you.”
He reached out and grabbed her arm. She froze, her huge chocolate eyes wide with shock as she stared at him, waiting.
“The best thing for me is you.”
Chapter 8
Well. It seemed that no matter how hard she’d tried, they’d gotten here, regardless. She stared down at the hand on her arm in bemusement. He’d always been able to do that to her; one touch and she melted.
But melting was not on her agenda tonight. Or any other night. Sure, he’d obviously changed, and the good man had likely become a better one. That didn’t mean he was the man for her. He’d been the man for her, but not so much now. Why? Because he wasn’t the only one who’d changed. Abandonment did that to a woman.
As did betrayal.
She didn’t know if she could trust him again.
He slipped a finger under her chin and lifted it so he could see into her eyes. She closed them so he couldn’t see the secrets in hers.
“You don’t have to do that. I can’t read your eyes anymore.” His bitterness washed over her and she winced. “I’ve been slowly losing my abilities this last year. The doctors have no idea why.”
“I’m sorry. That must be uncomfortable.” And likely the reason for the biggest change, maybe even the catalyst for the rest. Losing one’s abilities changed a person. Genesis only knew of one other who’d lost his, and he’d slowly gone insane before committing suicide one night while all alone. As his behavior had become so erratic in the later months, it had been days before his body was found.
A distressing time for all.
She stepped away from his hand, turned her back on him, and resolutely entered the small bedroom. She could be strong. She could avoid him. She could do this.
“I love you, Genesis,” he whispered behind her. “I always have.” There was no artifice in his voice. It was naked, pained, defeated with everything laid out in front of her.
She hesitated. Maybe she couldn’t do this.
Her heart was shaky, her stomach quivering, her mind in chaos. This was not what she expected.
She turned to stare into his dark-brown eyes and studied the intense gaze. He was willing to take whatever she dished out because he felt he deserved it.
“I’m so sorry for not believing you,” he said. “For not understanding.”
Damn. She dropped her eyes. He could bring her to her knees with just a few words.
“The bottom line is, misguided or not, I loved you back then and I’ve loved you every day since.” He turned and walked a few steps away. “I just wanted to say that in case I never got another chance.” And he strode into her bedroom, partially closing the door.
Leaving her standing there, wondering what to do. And the way he’d left it,
he’d given her a choice.
The door was still open.
If she wanted to walk through it.
Genesis moved until she stood in the open doorway where he lay and studied the energy of the room surrounding the bed. Confusion. Frustration. Pain. Sorrow. Love.
She watched Connor roll over. She’d refused to study the energy of her friends before unless asked. It was too intimate. Too personal. Invasive, almost. Unless a person was sick or injured, she found it almost impossible to cross that line. Yet as she stared at the man who’d broken her heart and who could very well break it again, she realized he was hurting too.
And that wasn’t what she wanted. She wasn’t a healer of people. At least that wasn’t her specialty. She couldn’t just fix him up the way some energy workers she knew could, but she could weave light and peace into his soul and remove strands of pain.
If he’d let her.
Inside, a thin voice whispered. That is not what he wants. It’s not what you want. You want to be with him, healing your hearts and bodies at the same time. This doesn’t have to be forever. This is for right now. This moment in time. Take the moment. They’ll be memories to make you smile after he’s gone. Because he will leave – you know that.
Genesis dropped her head. What she wanted to do didn’t matter here.
That same voice said, If not now, when does what you want matter? You need this. If only to say goodbye. In a twisted way, that made the difference. She hadn’t had a chance to say goodbye. For better or for worse, he’d left her with unfinished business.
And now she had a chance to fix…something.
She walked closer.
He froze and stared at her, lightness and hope filling his gaze. “Genesis?”
By the time she reached his side of the bed, he was sitting up and staring at her. He opened his mouth. She leaned over and laid a finger against his lips. “No talking,” she murmured. And while he watched, she dropped her towel to stand in front of him, nude.
His gaze heated. He threw back the covers and shifted over to make room for her.
Feeling finally settled, right, she slipped into bed and into his arms.
He held her close to his heart, gently rubbing her back. She smiled. He’d always been a tender lover. At first. She tilted her head back and gazed into eyes that had gone dark with need. As if in slow motion, she watched his mouth lower. Her eyelids fell closed and she sighed seconds before he took her lips in a kiss that was both tender and hot. Full of forgiveness and heat. Full of regrets and promises.
The absolute tenderness of his touch brought tears to her eyes. He kissed them away and then dropped kisses on her closed eyes.
The last of her doubts slipped away with the last of her tears.
He slid his hands through her long hair, holding her firm, and deepened the kiss. Gently, at first, as the tenderness in both demanded it, then harder. She pulled back slightly to smile up at him.
His lips curved. Then he lowered his head again and ravished her. Heat raced along her spine as his hands slid over her cool skin, warming her inside and out. Their bodies knew each other. Recognized each other and instinctively remembered what the other liked. What the other needed.
When his hand slid up to cup her breast, she shuddered. When he lowered his head to kiss the place just above her heart, she moaned. Emotions swamped her. Memories overwhelmed her, even as his touch startled her. There’d been no one else for her. There couldn’t be anyone else for her. He was, and always would be, her only lover.
The other half of herself.
She gave herself to him, fully, openly, honestly.
He gave as much as he received everything. The tension in the room crackled as he sipped, tasted, and enjoyed her. And she let him, lying on the bed, her hands clutching his head as he explored the body that had always been his.
Impatient now, her fingers were active, sliding over muscles and bone, scraping gently, before moving on to the next spot. He shifted restlessly under her touch.
He lifted his head and, when their gazes met this time, dark chocolate met golden brown, both heated. Both aware.
His gaze deepened as he slid his hand down her hip and across her belly to slide through her curls. She shuddered and lifted her hips. He withdrew his hand, slid over on top of her, and when he took her mouth this time, she pressed herself against him.
Her blood pounded, matching the need driving though her. She twisted beneath him, sliding her feet up and down his calves. Then she slipped her hand between them to find him. Hard and smooth and…hers.
He groaned, hiked up her hips, withdrew from her touch…and plunged.
She cried out.
He stilled. Effort for control in his voice, he whispered, “Did I hurt you?”
“No. It’s just been so long.” She twisted under him, feeling her body stretch, easing as if recognizing the invader. Then relaxed. She sighed as the empty spaces inside filled and warmed.
She reached up and bit his lower lip then slid her tongue to stroke just inside. He kissed her back, his hands reaching up to cup both breasts, kicking her temperature up again. With teasing fingers, he stroked and teased and caressed until she squirmed beneath him.
When she shuddered, he shifted his position, grasped her hips, and plunged deeper. She gasped, but he didn’t slow down. He drove her to the edge and held her, need to need. He filled her, swamped her, and flooded her with sensation. Until she cried out, “More.”
He hooked her leg over his arm and drove deep. And ground him in place. Her eyes rolled up and she cried out and went limp, her body exploding under his.
His hips pumped once…twice…and his cries joined hers.
When he collapsed down beside her, she curled up close.
But the night had only begun. Insatiable, they teased and satisfied, explored and found, gave and received all night long. She gave him everything.
And received so much more. They only had a little time and she wanted to experience everything again. She knew this would be only one night, and she was determined to store up every touch, every moment, every sigh and cry for later. She needed to slip him as deep into her heart as she could stuff him.
If there was a hint of desperation in her greedy touch, she could be forgiven. She’d loved him for so long. And to know she had tonight – only this moment – to soak up everything she could, she let down her guard as she never had before, and she went after him and let him have her without reserve.
Desperate to make the most of every moment, knowing that time would march on regardless and steal him from her yet again, they loved each other through the night.
Until the small hours of the morning, with dawn sneaking into the room, they collapsed, curled together, heart to heart, and slept.
*
Connor watched Genesis sleep. Deep circles bruised the skin under her eyes, and although her skin glowed, there was a translucence to it that worried him. He knew little of her past, only that it had to have been hard. And more than that, she had to work her energy or suffer.
His talent had been different. He’d been developing highly skilled security instincts – reading people, intuition, a sense of awareness in a situation reading the nuances off each one. He could see where a problem was coming from, but his skill had stopped just short of giving him details.
And then, within a week of being with her the last time, his abilities had slowly faded.
He shuddered. That week, his entire world had begun to fall apart.
But today, he’d found the most important part.
Bending over, he kissed the tip of her nose. There’d been an odd note in her actions tonight. Almost a finality. A loving and letting go. Fear burned an icy spot into his heart. He couldn’t let it. He hadn’t realized himself how very important she was to him – until he’d found her once more.
He didn’t dare lose her again.
Regardless of what she felt or thought, he was here for the long haul. He just had to prove it to her.
Tugging her close, he drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 9
Genesis woke to find tears sliding down her cheeks. Her night with Connor had brought back powerful memories. And powerful hurts. She slipped out from under the covers and walked to the pool. Her body ached with delicious sensations. She slipped into the waters and lay down, sighing happily as the aches and pains eased.
The long night had woken up areas of her body she’d forgotten existed. Floating in the healing waters, she closed her eyes and picked up several strands from the surface of the water. She laid them across her forehead, letting the strands weave into her own energy, easing the sadness that threatened to overwhelm her.
She refused to regret the night in his arms. It had been as exquisite as their last night a year ago.
Except it was morning. And she had no intention of holding on to him. He needed to move on. Their break-up had held him back. She understood. Her life had been on hold for a long time, too.
That was what last night had been all about.
Saying goodbye.
And if she repeated it enough times, she might even believe it. She didn’t want to say goodbye. But there were no promises made. No reconciliation. Just a letting go.
And she’d be adult about it. Do the right thing. Let him leave. It was better this way.
She rolled over in the pool and let the tears mingle into the water, healing her pain and easing her grief of what was to come.
A warm hand landed on her shoulder. She jerked and lifted her head. It could only be Connor, but she hadn’t expected him here. With her.
Her first instinct was that this was her space. Private. And that was just stupid after the hours they’d spent becoming reacquainted with each other’s bodies in the most intimate of ways.
He knelt beside her and tugged her into his arms. And just held her.