"How would you like to make your donation tonight, Ms. Callahan?" the elderly woman asks.
I look to Mikah briefly, trying desperately not to look completely freaked out.
Mikah smiles and turns to the woman. "Credit card."
"Perfect," she says and reaches for something on a table behind her.
I reach into my purse, glad that I didn’t take the credit card out of my wallet when I switched bags this afternoon. I pull it out and hand it to her. She does a couple of things and hands me a receipt and a pen. Having just done this for the first time yesterday with Celeste, I'm suddenly thankful for the shopping spree. I sign my name with a shaky hand and give her back the receipt and pen.
"Wonderful, you're all set," she says as the gentlemen hands me the case. Mikah grabs it before I can and slings it over his shoulder.
"Thanks so much for all your help this evening," he says to both of them, and off we go toward the door.
Andrew is waiting with my coat in hand. Mikah takes it from him and offers it to me. I turn, slip my arms inside and quickly button it as Andrew hits the call button on the elevator.
The doors open immediately and we step inside.
FORTY-ONE
We make it to the limo in what feels like record time, helped by the fact that the reporters and photographers who were here when we arrived are gone now. I also note that, though the windows are up, every light in the back half of the limo is on.
"Thank you for a fabulous evening," I say once we are settled and in motion.
He looks at me, tenderness in his eyes. "You're most welcome, Vivienne. I had a wonderful time."
I slide a little closer to him and he wraps his arm around me, holding me close.
Sitting here next to him, after seeing Elton in the ballroom, I realize how safe I feel. I know that, no matter what, he will protect me from anything and everything that can be thrown at me. Even though Riley is still out there and the possibility of his finding me sends a chill through me, what Zirah said about Riley's fate has me feeling more and more certain that Riley will likely never be coming after me again. I'm finally starting to see that over the last couple of weeks my mind, too, has been healing, and Mikah is responsible for that.
I'm also hyperaware of the fact that the feelings I have for Mikah in the dream are becoming reality.
"I'm sorry that I ever accused you of bad intentions when you offered to help me," I say quietly. He pulls back a little and I look up at him. He's puzzled. "In the hospital. Well, the first time we were there. Every time I've jumped to conclusions, I've been wrong, and I apologize."
He takes a deep, thinking-style breath. "You had every right to think and even express those things. I realize now that I came at you pretty strongly without knowing your circumstances." He smiles slightly. "So for that, I apologize."
"You're forgiven," I whisper as I snake my arms around him and hug him tight.
He lets out a breathy chuckle. "Thank you for your forgiveness and..." He pauses long enough for me to pull back and look up at him expectantly. His eyes are soft, filled with something I'm not sure I recognize. "I don't know how to express to you what it meant to me tonight, when she was moving around. I've never felt anything like that before. It was..." He doesn't add anything more to that statement, but I know what he's trying to say.
I lean back into him, and a sudden vision fills my mind: Mikah with a beautiful baby girl with curly red hair. Though this baby is not his biologically, he feels some deeper connection to her than I ever could have expected from anyone.
The idea of Mikah stepping into her life as someone she can look up to brings new tears to my eyes. I succeed in blinking them back so that they don't drip onto his shirt. I don't want him to know what I'm thinking about right now.
We pull into the underground garage and are met by Connor at the elevators. He opens Mikah's door, and Mikah slips out. I follow right behind him when he offers his hand again.
We ride up with Connor and Red in the elevator. Their presence makes me a little nervous because they don't usually ride with us. But after tonight’s events with Elton and this morning's events with the shifter, their caution is understandable.
Jeez, could today have been any more of a mess?
FORTY-TWO
After I've washed my face and changed into one of Mikah's t-shirts, I stand in the doorway watching him work on his laptop. I notice that my iPod is playing quietly in the background and the TV is off.
He’s rid himself of his jacket, vest and tie. I can't see if he's changed his pants, but he is still wearing his dress shirt, so I think not.
"You don't have to stand back there and watch me,” he says, surprising me. “Come here."
I smirk, totally busted. I push away from the doorway and walk around the couch. He puts down whatever it is that he's been looking at and opens up his arms.
I go stand between his legs, and he puts his hands on the backs of my thighs. When he gently rests his head against the upper curve of my bump, that surge of desire returns. Once again the urge to kiss him comes over me, this time stronger than before, nearly overpowering.
Though he hasn't actually made any moves toward advancing our relationship, he's shown me no reason to fear rejection. On the contrary, everything he's done tells me that he needs me, too.
I run my hand through his hair and he holds me tighter, closer to him. When he does this I'm instantly reminded of the dream - our dream - and how he took so much care in preparing my outfit for tonight. He, too, must feel and see the same things as I do in that dream.
"Are you ready for bed?"
I yawn. "Yes."
I step back, and it's there in his eyes - that look I saw earlier - and in this context it strikes me as desire.
I take his head in my hands and lean down. He doesn't flinch or say anything. But as I move my lips closer to his face, fear washes over me, and I end by kissing him on his forehead.
"Good night, Mikah. Thank you for a wonderful evening."
"Good night, beautiful. You're most welcome, and I'm very glad you were there with me." He smiles. "See you in the morning."
I nod and head off toward bed.
FORTY-THREE
I'm back in the white room. Mikah is down on his knees with his eyes closed, wings fully extended. It's right where we left off the last time I had this dream, and here I have no inhibitions about doing anything to him.
I reach up and place my palm against his face. He leans into my touch. "Give me your hand," I say, and he does. I bring it up past my face and place it on the top of my wing. Pleasure surges through me, hot and rapid, pooling between my thighs.
I take his head in both my hands, and he mirrors the gesture on my own cheeks.
He rises, bringing me with him, tilting my head upwards. I feel my belly bump into him, pressing gently into his stomach. His eyes open, and they are the purest blue I could ever imagine.
Steadily, he brings his face closer to mine. The motion is impossibly slow and I ache with anticipation. I stretch upward a little in an attempt to meet him faster, and he smiles.
Just like that, his lips are on mine. All my angst and anguish dissolve in an instant, and I'm lost to the soft, warm touch of his lips.
His tongue lightly traces the outline of my lips, teasing me, tempting me to open them. Desperate to feel his tongue on mine, I open my mouth. The touch is electric. It surges, hard and hot, straight to my innermost desires of love and lust.
Desire. He's awakened a need stronger than anything I've ever felt before.
His kiss grows more urgent, and his hands move slowly and lightly down my neck to my shoulders and then along my arms. I shiver at the contact from wanton need.
My nipples, which are already tight and tender, harden and ache. An ache that can only be soothed by something warm and wet.
His fingers trail back up my arms as my hands slowly slide down his neck, along his chest, then follow the line of his ribs. I bring my arms around him, d
esperate to be closer to him, to be touching him.
His ragged breathing matches mine. We’re both practically gasping for air as our kiss deepens. Nothing else matters; there is nothing in the world but him and me. Us.
A loud grunt. It comes from behind me and is followed by a moan, but it is not from me or Mikah. It's something else...
"Ahh."
This is real, different. It's not my dream. I'm awake, and someone is moaning, but not in pain.
"Mmmm."
My eyes fly open. There is light in the room, but from where? I sit up and look behind me, thinking it's the bathroom, but no, it's coming from the corner, near the closet door.
It's.... What is that?
"Ahh!" it comes again.
I jump to my feet and turn around. My eyes are adjusting to the light. It's not bright, but I can see now that it is coming from the kitchen, but at a very strange angle.
My hand flies to my mouth. "Holy shit," I mumble.
I pull my hand away and take a deep breath.
It’s Mikah. He's on his knees on the kitchen floor. But that’s not what has my attention. Spread out in full, awesome splendor are a pair of brilliantly white wings.
FORTY-FOUR
I walk quietly toward him. I can’t tell if he’s awake or sleeping. He's not looking at me, but down toward the floor. As I get closer I see his wings flare and twitch slightly.
When I’m about five steps away from him, I shed my shirt so that I'm down to my bra and lacy boy shorts. I don’t want to destroy his shirt.
I concentrate extra hard and, after a beat, I feel them pushing out, spreading outward. The sensation is strange, almost like arms emerging from my body. I smile at the fact that I was able to bring them out on my own.
Once I feel as though they are fully extended, I open my eyes and peer over my shoulder. They are as brilliant as they were this morning, but bigger, and I gasp as I watch them shimmer in the faint light of the kitchen.
I test the muscles in my back, flexing them. My wings move slightly and a thrill of excitement washes over me.
I turn back toward Mikah. He hasn't moved, but his breathing has grown strained, ragged like in the dream.
I take the five small steps I need to reach him and stop.
I reach down and gently stroke the stubble along his jaw. He leans into my touch. I lower myself to my knees; they slide along his as they come to rest on the floor.
"Keep your eyes closed," I whisper.
He nuzzles into my touch a shade more, and with my other hand, eager to see if the sensation is the same, I reach for his wing. When I make contact, his mouth goes slack, his breathing stops momentarily, and the feathers of his wings flare. He moans: a warm, sensual sound.
I pull my hand back and cup the other side of his face. He does the same with my face.
"Kiss me," I breathe, and he rises up, bringing me with him.
I'm looking up at him, and slowly, even more slowly than in the dream, he lowers his kiss to mine. I stretch, hoping to meet his mouth faster, and he smiles.
The next thing I know, his lips are on mine, soft and warm, hot and needy. The moment we make contact, satisfaction and desire sweep through me. I can feel his need in the touch of his lips, in the trembling of his fingers against my face, a need that matches my own.
His tongue lightly teases my lips. I part them. In an instant, his tongue is on mine, teasing and tasting.
My hands slide along his neck, down his sternum, and then follow his ribs. I slip my arms around him, bringing him closer and tighter against me. His chest touches mine. My belly presses into his taut stomach and his hands trail along my neck, shoulders and arms.
I shiver, causing all my nerve endings to come alive.
Sliding my hands up his back, I find the tips of the feathers on the bottom of his wings and I lightly stroke them. His erection comes to life against my belly. I moan into his mouth as my eyes roll back into my head.
I open my eyes again and he is looking at me. His bright blue eyes are warm, filed with need and with something else, that emotion that I can't quite name.
Then, confusion.
He pulls back, trying to gain his bearings, unsure of where he is. The vision in front of him hits him. I can tell the moment that he realizes that my wings are spread wide. He flexes his shoulders, and his eyes grow wider still as he understands that his wings are open and visible, too.
"How..."
"The dream. We've..." I take a deep breath, trying hard to calm my breathing. "We've been sharing the same dreams."
He sits back on his feet, but he doesn't release the grip he now has on my hands.
"Mikah, I want this. I want you,” I say breathlessly.
He doesn't need any more encouragement from me. He stands, steadying himself as he realizes the full weight of his upper body with his wings fully emerged. He pulls me up by my hands and I stand with him. He's quick to cup my face, and once again his lips are on mine.
His kiss is urgent and my body responds, desire pooling stronger deep inside of me. I put everything I have into our kiss, pulling him tighter and closer against me, and he does the same. I feel his fingers weave into my hair as he gently urges me to take a step back. I do, and he nudges again. And again. I refuse to open my eyes as he continues to urge me backwards; I'm completely lost to his kiss, his lips, his hands in my hair.
Then I feel the bed against my knees and I stop. His kisses wander from my mouth to my jaw, behind my ear, down my neck, along my shoulder, his lips soft against my skin, leaving a trail of blazing hot nerves in their wake.
His hands glide down my body along the outside swell of my breasts, down my ribs. Feather light, his fingers trail the sweet curves of my bump, and I'm lost to the purest pleasure I've ever felt in my life.
His kisses continue, and the need to have him grows hotter, stronger. My legs begin to tremble, but still he runs his hands up my back toward my wings, and I shiver in anticipation of his touch along my feathers. But he stops when he reaches the clasp of my bra.
He pauses, waiting for permission.
"Yes," I breathe.
His breathing spikes. He shakes slightly, as though nervous, but he hasn't stopped his kisses along the swell of my breasts. I raise my hand to his hair and run my fingers through its soft texture. It tickles against my palm.
With my fingers I urge him to pull back slightly. He does so and looks at me. His eyes are hooded with desire and something deeper, some stronger emotion trying desperately to spill through.
"I. Want. You." I emphasize each word. "I'm ready."
"I...I don't know if I am," he whispers.
"What do you mean?" I cock my head toward him.
He sinks to his knees in front of me, looking into my eyes with an intensity that’s almost frightening. "If we cross this line, everything changes. We-" He swallows. "I will never be able to be apart from you. Everything between us will be different."
I sit down on the bed. Then I reach my hands around my back, reaching for the clasp of my bra. As I unhook each tiny hook, one at a time, he watches me, eyes wide but excited.
Finally I reach the last one and I look at him, pleading with my eyes, trying to show him just how much I need him. We're face to face, and as I unhook the last of the clasps, I bring my arms tight against my sides so as not to allow my bra to completely fall away.
I bring my hands back around to cup his face.
"I'm tired of fighting the urge to kiss you." I lean in and kiss him. Softly, gently. "I'm no longer able to resist being closer to you. I can't stand that we sleep in separate rooms, or that I feel as though I can't touch you." I splay my right hand wide and run the tips of my fingers down his beautiful face from his forehead to his chin. As I reach his lips they part, and I feel his hot breath caress my hand.
"Bring our dream to life. Show me that you cannot resist me." I straighten my arms, pull them away from my body, and let my bra fall down, fully exposing my breasts. The cool air hardens my nip
ples further.
I hear his sharp intake of breath. "You are so beautiful. An angel. My angel."
He reaches up to cup my face and brings his lips to mine. I feel him push forward, pushing me onto my back, and by some miracle, I manage to pull my wings in as he lays me back on the bed.
He hovers over me, the skin of his tight stomach gently touching mine as our lips continue their slow, sensual assault, lighting up my senses.
He trails his fingers down my neck, along my chest, across my nipple. I moan as the ache is relieved by his touch. He continues down my ribs to my stomach, and the sweet touch along my bump once again sends delicious shivers through my body.
He begins to kiss me along the same path his hand has just taken, and goose bumps begin to radiate across my skin.
I'm lost to my desire.
Announcement
Thank You!! I cannot thank you enough for your continuing support of The Reason Series and my writing.
If you’ve made it this far in the book, PLEASE PLEASE go back to the retailer you purchased it from and take a few minutes to write me a review. I truly enjoy your reviews, good or bad, and I learn a lot from what my readers like and don’t like about my books.
You will notice that this book lacks a teaser to book 4. Some might be says “Phew” Others might be upset, well here is why this is missing…
Give Me Love - Reason Series Book #4 is on a slight delay in release due to a number of reasons. The primary reason is because I want to give you, the reader, the best conclusion to Vivienne and Mikah’s story as I can and in order to do that, I need a little bit more time.
Will Give Me Love be the last book?
This I do not know. I love Vivienne and Mikah so much that I do not want to see their story come to an end, however, if GML ends on a note that satisfies me and you as the reader, then I will leave it at Give Me Love. If I cannot satisfy myself with GML, then you the reader will not be satisfied and I will then be writing an additional book to the series.
Give Me Desire (Reason Series) Page 12