by Anna Durand
Grace's smile was genuine, if muted. "Good luck, Biel. I hope you find your peace."
"You are far too generous a soul, Grace." Amador's lips curved up, but faltered. "If I can achieve a fraction of your goodness… "
David almost smiled. Almost. "Don't set a goal you can't achieve. Nobody will ever be anywhere near as good as this woman." He gave her a quick squeeze. "She's a living, breathing miracle."
She poked him with her elbow and rolled her eyes. "Oh brother. If you lay it on any thicker I might join Sean in barfing."
The boy snickered. David shot him a glance that shut him up.
Amador managed a sad smile. "No, Grace, David is right. You are a miracle, and I am blessed to have met you. I hope someday to become your friend." He cast a sideways look at David. "A friend to both of you."
"We'll see," David said.
Amador's expression changed subtly, into something akin to gratitude. He gestured toward the sofas and chairs in the cabin behind him. "Make yourselves at home. There is a galley stocked with food and beverages at the rear of the cabin. I will sit with the pilot. He is a good friend and ally."
"'Thank you," Grace said.
As he watched Amador meander toward the cockpit, David wondered if the man was hiding out with the cabin to give him, Grace, and Sean privacy — and a break from the man they barely trusted. Maybe Amador had some tact after all.
"Hey," David called, just as Amador reached for the cockpit door handle. The man glanced back. "Good luck with your recovery."
It was the best sentiment he could offer honestly, and Amador knew it. He nodded, and entered the cockpit. The door clicked shut.
Sean skipped down the aisle — yes, actually skipped, like the kid he denied being — and flopped down onto a cushy sofa a few rows down. Grace clasped David's hand, leading past the teenager sprawled on a cream-colored sofa, and straight back to the last row. A sofa awaited them there, behind a quartet of chairs arranged around a rectangular table. A long, low table fronted the sofa. The chairs provided a sort of privacy screen, which, combined with the distance between them and Sean, made for a cozy nest.
"I figured," Grace said, "we'd want to be alone for a while."
Yes, yes, and hell yes. They'd won a vicious battle, against human enemies, but also against their own demons. She knew everything about him, and even when the evidence suggested he betrayed her, she never gave up on him. This woman fought for him, for their love, without hesitation. He worshiped her. He needed her. He craved her.
"Hungry?" she asked, and waved toward the galley. "Or thirsty? I can get us a drink or a quick bite."
"No thanks." He was starving, but not for food.
The pattering of footsteps drew their attention to the aisle, and Sean padding toward them. He rolled his eyes as he moseyed by, on his way to the galley.
"Don't worry," he said. "I'm grabbing a drink. Then you guys can get back to the drooling over each other."
He did indeed grab a can of Coke and hustle back to his makeshift bed. A pop and a fizz ensued, then the hushed whine of the engines was the only sound.
Grace moved around the table and eased her lithe body down onto the sofa, wriggling her lovely little butt to scoot backward. She cuddled into the cushioning with a soft, contented moan.
He settled in beside her, with those luscious curves tucked against him and her head on his shoulder. Her silky hair teased his chin. Ducking his head, he inhaled a long breath, entranced by the scent of her. Though tainted with a hint of blood and dirt, her hair still gave off the intoxicating aroma of coconuts. Surrounded by her, he let his thoughts travel back his fantasy from days ago. Grace in a bikini, on a beach, sunning herself beside him. He'd rub lotion all over her body, starting with her shoulders and working his way down, inch by inch, tracing the elegant contour of her back, the curve of her hips, the perfect mounds of her bottom, and —
"Stop that."
He whipped his head up, startled. "Stop what?"
She tilted her head up, targeting her glorious eyes on him. "You're fantasizing about sex again, I know you are. I can feel you're getting… aroused." Her eyes flicked down, toward his crotch, and then back up. Amusement curled one corner of her luscious lips. "And I feel it with more than my psychic senses."
Right. His pants had grown tighter all of a sudden.
One of her delicate fingers poked into his side. "We can't do anything here, so don't go torturing yourself with erotic daydreams."
"Thinking about you is never torture." He nuzzled her ear and whispered, "You know, we're connected on a much deeper level these days. Maybe we could share a fantasy. I'd love to show you mine."
Her breath hitched. Excitement pumped into him from her, a thrill triggered by his suggestion. She wants to share this with me.
A thrill of his own fired through their link, straight into her.
Her sharp intake of air made his ache in a way that would get him arrested if he acted on it in public. But after a second, she virtually purred her response. "David, I would love to share your fantasy. But can we do that?" A note of anxiety crept into her voice. "I mean, reading minds is bad news, trust me, I've got firsthand knowledge of it."
He'd expected that reaction. After everything she'd been through, extrasensory powers were a boogeyman under her bed. He knew this, but he also knew she possessed more than enough strength to overcome those fears. Her journey toward fearlessness began the moment she defeated Nkosi.
Stroking her cheek with one hand, he kissed her earlobe, tugged it between his lips, and suckled gently. Her faint moan enticed and elated him. The salty-yet-sweet flavor of her skin whipped up his need to a near frenzy. Take it slow, don't rush her.
Releasing her lobe, he let his lips tantalize her ear as he spoke. "This won't be reading minds. It'll be more like thought projection mixed with telepathy, and a dash of empathic energy for good measure." He skimmed his hand down her neck and paused with his fingertips at the hollow above her collarbone. "If we get really ambitious, we could astral project somewhere nice and manifest."
Her chest heaved with each breath. She dropped one hand to his thigh and raked it up his jeans until her fingers grazed his swelling arousal. He whisked his tongue across her lower lip. She clutched his shirt and said, with an excited little huff, "That would take a lot of energy. We'd be… exhausted afterward."
"But it would be worth it."
"We'll be home soon. Maybe we should wait."
The light pressure of her fingernails through his shirt pushed him beyond longing, right into raw, hot lust. "Can't wait. I've got to have you now."
"David, I… oh." She thrust a hand into his hair as he blew a gentle puff of air onto the tender skin below her ear. Arching her neck, she exposed her slender throat to him. He trailed kisses down her neck. "David, we shouldn't… please… mmm." Her hand in his hair gripped harder. "Let's do it."
He ran the tip of his tongue back up her throat. "Are you sure?"
"Yes." She groaned the word, and rocked her hips into him.
David tipped his head up, their mouths aligned. "A real kiss first."
"Please, yes."
He took her mouth, in an all-consuming kiss, too famished for her to care how much noise they made. They groped and fondled, devoured and drank each other in, lost in the fervor of skin on skin.
It wasn't enough. He needed all of her skin, bare and creamy, ripe for the taking.
They couldn't do that here.
But her lips, her tongue, her fingers…
The jet engines whined dully, but the the noise receded, along with the rest of the world, out of the bubble their desire fashioned around them. She clung to him with ravenous need, and he grasped her hips, dragging them into him over and over in a frantic, erotic rhythm. She abandoned herself to the kiss, her passion stripping away his control. Their minds touched, melded, whir
led out of their bodies into the crossroads.
And still he felt her slick lips on his, her hot hands on his back. Their minds twirled through a darkness made of living energy, thrusting out into pure sunshine. The connection to his body waned to a background hum, but their passion joined them as powerfully as ever.
They stood on a beach. Palm trees swayed in a gentle breeze, casting flickering shadows on the golden sand. Crystalline blue water lapped against the shore, and the aroma of exotic flowers whispered over them. No humans in sight. No animals either. Nothing except the two of them, separated by mere inches. Alone. Aroused.
Grace wore a bikini. When the information finally penetrated into his brain, he couldn't stop a salacious smile from overtaking his lips.
She looked down at her attire, blushed, and bit her lip. A shy smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
He was in pants and a khaki shirt, unbuttoned. Naked would've seemed more appropriate, but he'd let her choose his wardrobe — not with words, but with silent permission. She gave him the same leave, to dress her. Or undress her. That delectable body curved in all the right places, the skimpy bikini more of an adornment than an outfit. Her creamy skin took on a slight flush in the sunlight.
She gazed up at him, her lips parted. "Shall we manifest?"
"Yes." It came out as a fervent plea.
Psychic energy poured into him, coursed through his entire being, and swept back into her, then repeated in a cycle of exquisite highs and soothing lows. His mind came alive, buzzed with power.
The sun heated his face.
Grace wiggled her toes in the sand. "It worked."
"Of course it did." He hauled her into his arms for a deep, languid kiss. "We're the two most powerful psychics around." He skated his hand up her side, molding his palm to her breast. "Let's see how good we really are at manifesting."
Sure, he'd made love to her while manifesting once before, but this time was different. The bond between them would alter their responses, he sensed that, but how intense it would get remained a mystery. One he intended to solve.
This instant.
Grace dragged her nails down his chest with feather-light pressure. When she reached the waistband of his pants, she flipped her hands around to pull her nails back up his skin. By the time her fingers hit his pecs, he was throbbing for her. The bikini he'd imagined for her, and manifested on her body, featured strings for easy removal. He flicked them undone, and her attire fluttered to the ground. His shirt and pants went next.
They lay on the sand, Grace stretched out beneath him, her skin glistening with tiny beads of sweat. The sight of her — nude, nipples hardened into peaks, her skin damp, her mouth open — stole his voice, his breath, his thoughts. How could he have ever chosen hunting for a mad man over staying with this woman?
A ghost of a frown tensed her features. "You've never been this adventurous before. And you've barely me kissed in the past two months, until the other day." With a sharp and questioning look, she nailed him to an invisible wall. "Why go all late-night cable on me all of sudden?"
"You know why." He lowered a knee between her thighs to ease them apart. "Enough talking."
"Maybe we shouldn't."
His body screamed for action, friction, the ecstasy of burying himself inside her. She crossed her arms over her chest in a gesture that normally indicated annoyance, but her fear trickled into him, tempering his desire. Unable to read her mind, he could only guess at what disturbed her. "Is this about the power merge? Do you think I only want you because I can feel your passion?"
One of her shoulders hunched, a tiny shrug. "You felt my passion before we joined our powers. Our connection was getting more intense even then, but now… " She fiddled with her hair. "Would you have ever wanted me this much if things had stayed the way they were before I got amnesia?"
"Yes." He almost growled the word, infusing it with all his certainty. "I love you. The longer we're together, the closer we get. It's natural, and normal — although our relationship has extra oomph."
Amusement sparkled in her eyes and curved one corner of her mouth. "Oomph?"
"Exactly. Our powers are a bonus lift, not the source of our bond." He ducked his head to touch his lips to hers. "I love you because you're you, end of story."
"But you weren't like this before."
True. He'd been reserved in their love-making, afraid to embrace the hunger gnawing at him, desperate to come out and play. Fear of hurting her, scaring her, had restrained him. And, if he was totally honest, fear she wouldn't approve of his fantasies.
Yet she had. He offered her the key to his inner sanctum, and she accepted it. Despite the countless mistakes he'd made — running after Tesler, keeping secrets from her. Despite everything. She never wavered in her commitment to this relationship.
Her love and trust liberated him.
Elation rushed into him, sweet and warm and tasting like her. He felt the grin that split his lips. A wide, stupid grin borne of the unbridled delight consuming him.
The look on her face — adoration, euphoria, and desire merged — took his breath away. She knew what he felt, though not what he thought. Crazy, silly thoughts that were unmanly in their gushy nature. He had to tell her. The words clamored to get out, and at last, he realized he didn't give a damn if he sounded like a moron.
"You freed me, Grace, you showed me unconditional, boundless love and I couldn't fight it anymore. I love you, I need you, I'm so sorry for the way I've treated you these past months. You're sweet and strong and beautiful and fragile. You make me laugh when I don't want to, you push me to do the hard things because it's right." He took a single, gasping breath. "You changed me. You — "
She sealed his lips with her fingers. "Shh. No need to gush, honey. I know how you feel, because you've shown me."
"But all those months — "
"Yeah, I'll admit your standoffish behavior irritated me." Her fingers toyed with his lip, and he ached to suck those little digits. "But I love you, David, and love is never easy or neat. It's messy and difficult and sometimes painful. I'm in for the whole package, whatever happens."
"Me too." Her fingers muffled his words, but she must've understood, because she smiled. "Can we stop talking yet?"
She tugged his lip down with her fingertip. "Yes, enough telling. I'm in the mood for some showing."
He sucked her finger into his mouth. Her smile broadened, a beatific expression on the face of his sarcastic angel. When he let her fingers slide out, she slicked the wet tips over his chin, down his throat, onto his chest. He slid down her body inch by inch, relishing the salty tang of sweat, colored with the sweet, rich flavor of her, exploring her breasts, her belly, her hips. When he dipped his head between her thighs, she let out a surprised little cry.
"Relax," he said, and peppered her inner thigh with kisses. "You wanted me to show you how much I adore you. So here I go."
And then he did. With all the single-minded focus he'd once reserved for his Tesler hunt, he demonstrated exactly how much he cherished her body, her heart, her soul, by tormenting her with pleasure and driving her wild with need for release. She thrust a hand into his hair and writhed beneath him, beautiful, ardent, full of life and heat. Her heavy breathing escalated into pants and groans, as her hips bucked and her fingers clutched his hair, the nails scraping his scalp. His passion merged with hers, engulfed him, hardened him, consumed his every thought and fueled his every movement, revved up by the flavor or her desire and the feel of her slick heat against his mouth. Her shuddering climax hit hard, her back arched, her hips locked down by his hands.
He exhaled a ragged breath against her sensitive flesh, and she shuddered again. Her body melted onto the sand, her face aglow.
"Oh David." His name emerged as a breathless moan.
Lifting his head, he gazed up at her, his own breaths hard and fast. The afterglo
w flushed her cheeks, and her lips, swollen with desire, parted in a plea for a kiss. She was the most magnificent thing he'd ever laid eyes on — and she was his. Every molecule of her delectable body belonged to him and him alone, but more than that, she'd given him the gift of her trust and love.
Her mouth curved into a dazed, lopsided smile. "You've never done that before."
"I know." His grin must've looked wicked, since that's how he felt. "I plan on doing a lot of things I've never done before — if my fiancée doesn't mind." He skated his mouth up her inner thigh, nipped her knee, and worked his way back down to her hip, to kiss the hollow there. "Does my fiancée approve?"
She nodded and licked her lower lip. "Oh yes. I do, absolutely, no doubt, yes yes yes." She hooked one leg around him, rubbing her heel under the curve of his buttock. "I'm ready for whatever you have in mind."
With a salacious smile, she tugged her hand free of his hair to caress his cheek. The sunlight sparkled on the diamond in her engagement ring. Soon she would be his wife. His heart thudded. His wife. The phrase set off a torrent of emotions — happiness, adoration, satisfaction, and oh yes, lust.
He drew her left leg up onto his shoulder, rose onto hands and knees, and fixed his gaze on hers. The psychic bond snapped tight between them, coursing her hunger into him, swirling it through his body and mind in an intoxicating mixture that lured a sigh out of him. "Do you feel that?"
"Mmm… " She dived her hands into the sand, fingers curled, and bowed her back. Her breasts heaved upward, the taut nipples grazing his skin. "All I want to feel is you."
For a moment, he gazed down at her in wonder. They lay on a beach, amid the shadow-dappled sand and the glittering sunshine. The tropical vista was stunning, but the breathtaking view beneath him captured all his focus.
He grasped her hips and sank inside her gradually, until he'd filled her to the hilt. The exquisite torture of her velvety soft flesh enveloping him nearly pushed himself over the edge. Her fingers clutched his wrists. Her mouth fell open, and a single syllable escaped her lips. "Please."