by Floyd, Jacie
Again, he stopped her with his hands on her shoulders.
“What now?” Anxious to continue, she was afraid sanity would intrude and prevail with any interruption.
“Would you prefer to go inside?”
“No.” She waved the suggestion away before returning to the removal of his belt. “Please. Out here. This is where the magic is.”
With a nod, he led her to a nearby chaise, pillowed with thick cushions and almost wide enough for two people. Slowly, he removed Kara’s clothing piece by piece, caressing and exploring each newly exposed area. Thankful that the falling darkness shielded her far from perfect body from the perceptive eyes of this absurdly perfect male, Kara was determined to rush onward before she died of pleasure or her normal prudence returned.
He lowered her onto the chaise and seated himself beside her, facing her, his hip touching hers.
“What would you like next? This?” He leaned over to lap his tongue over a susceptible nipple.
“Oh that, yes. And touch me, please.”
“Where?”
“Here... there... everywhere.”
Surrounded by darkness, he followed her instructions and explored her with his hands, fingers, and mouth, concentrating on the textures of her body like a blind man learning Braille. Kara groaned as her need escalated. She ached for more intimate touches, but he continued at his own pace. Unable to remain idle any longer, her hands began an exploration of the parts of his body within reach.
First, she encountered knees. Hard, but not responsive.
Next, she grazed his upper thigh. Sensitive and firm, but not hard enough.
Brushing upward, her fingers found the heated erection that had every attribute she sought... Hard, sensitive, and very responsive.
As her hand encircled him, he found the throbbing pulse between her legs. Kara drowned in the erotic sensations inspired by the rhythmic contact. Frantic, mindless excitement pulled her tighter and tighter until the tension exploded and her slick flesh convulsed around his fingertips.
She floated in another dimension filled with fireworks, starlight and moonbeams, refusing to acknowledge any reality beyond the exquisite release of the moment. He continued to stroke and entice her in an attentive reminder of his needs—as yet unmet.
“Now,” she urged, pulling him over her.
“I need to go inside the—”
“No.” A groan escaped her as she held him in place.
“I’ll be right back...” With great precision, he moved her hand to cover the juncture at the top of her thighs. “Save my place.”
Waiting for Wyatt’s return, Kara’s heightened perceptions turned the wait into an interminable torture. A slice of moon appeared above her. As she stared at the sky, diamond-like stars winked into sight, so close and distinct that she wanted to gather them up and fashion them into a sparkly tiara.
Her soon-to-be lover emerged from the house. With his naked form silhouetted in a wedge of light streaming through a window, he looked like a god of nature put on earth for the sole purpose of tempting mortal women from their chaste and righteous paths. Both of which, Kara acknowledged thankfully, she had strayed from long ago.
Depositing various items on a table beside the chaise, he stretched out beside her. “Are you sure about this?”
She was sure of nothing except the desire to feel his heat next to her, around her, and inside her. To feel alive again.
“We’ve reached the point of no return. Speak now or forever hold your peace.”
Kara shook her head, disinclined to examine her feelings. She already doubted her own ability to continue breathing. Coherent thought was well beyond her.
“Onward, then.” He gathered her in his arms. “Where was I?”
He took the hand he had positioned so intimately and moved it to his mouth, kissing and licking each finger with exquisite attention. Each time his tongue touched her skin, she felt a corresponding flutter deep inside. She pulled his body over hers and pressed her hips against him. She could have wept from the bliss of being touched by a man’s firm hands, covered by a hard body, and held in strong arms.
When he lifted himself away from her, she feared he intended to leave her again and she clasped him to her. He reassured her with soothing murmurs as he reached for a foil packet. Ripping it open, he shifted onto his side and placed the disc in her hand.
Grateful for the precaution, she made a production of touching and fondling him while she stretched the protection over his hardened length.
He pushed his way into the center of her private core, then paused, waiting a moment for Kara to accustom herself to his touch. Before she was ready, he began to move. Memories of other nights, of another man, came to tease at the edges of her subconscious. At the edges of her heart.
This man was too big. Too tall. Too close. Too… different.
The heels of her palms pressed against his shoulders in a panicked effort to get him off of her. He stopped and peered down, smoothing her hair back, allowing her more time to adjust to his size and shape. Physically, he filled her. But mentally, emotionally, she remained empty and yearned for the loving words and familiar caresses she had known in the past.
The sculpted angles and features of his face, strong and beautiful, kissed by moonbeams and tense with desire, loomed above her. The part of him which throbbed inside her created an involuntary demand from her body to end its celibacy. While she fought to banish her longing for the partner who lived on only in dreams and shadows, her hungry flesh spurred her toward a necessary response.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got you.” The real man of form and substance proceeded to withdraw from her tight passage with excruciatingly slow movements and reenter with the same taunting lack of speed. The exaggerated stroke radiated heat into all of the cold and frozen nooks and crannies inside her and demanded her participation.
“Come now. Come with me,” he urged. Instinctively, her body matched his rhythm. Reaching, striving, they ascended to an explosive climax together, sharing a timeless moment that provided them with a tantalizing peek at forever.
Kara closed her eyes and drifted. He had been splendid. Impersonal. Unknown. Almost like a dream lover, but better. Real, very real. Perfect for reawakening desire and passion. She reveled in the aftermath of long-denied emotions. Her eyes burned with the sting of unexpected tears.
As she lay beneath him, she turned her head away to hide her tears of joy. And sorrow.
Chapter Six
Awaking to unfamiliar surroundings, Kara bolted upright. The nubby blanket that covered her dropped away from her nakedness. She yanked it up to her shoulders before looking around.
And then she remembered where she was.
And what she’d done.
She’d left the museum with a man named Wyatt. And they’d made love. Had sex! Perfect, amazing, fantastic sex! Oh, no!
Now, he sat at a patio table set for two. Dressed in a polo shirt and worn blue jeans, he ignored the laptop in front of him. Her nudity put her at a decided disadvantage as he sipped a glass of wine and watched her. She offered a tentative smile, uncertain of the protocol for her current situation.
From the shadows, he spoke first. “I was about to wake you.”
“I guess I dozed off.” Self-consciously, she finger-combed her hair away from her face, wondering how quickly she could arrange her departure. She had no transportation, very little cash, and no real idea of where she was.
“I thought you might be getting hungry. Or cold.”
Her nipples puckered under the blanket as his gaze settled on that area. Hoping for nonchalance, she raised her knees and rested her elbows on them. “Yes, I am.”
“Which?”
She swallowed nervously. It was one thing to seduce a stranger in the midst of a cosmically surreal moment. But now reality replaced passion, and she was at least thirty-six months out of practice at the art of post-coital repartee.
“Hungry.” She bit her lip. “But I don’t want to
impose.” She looked down at the floor of the deck, searching for her clothes. “I’m hardly dressed for dinner.”
“No imposition. I’d be pleased to have you join me. And dress is optional.” He rose to standing position with a fluid grace. “Unless you insist.”
“I do.”
In the courtliest manner she’d seen this side of a regency novel, he helped her rise from the chaise. Picking up a quilted silk robe from another chair, he held it out for her to slip into. Kara tied the belt and rolled up the sleeves, which dangled past her fingertips. Still nervous, she accepted the seat he held for her at the table set for two.
He poured her a glass of wine and handed it to her. “I’ll be back.”
Kara clutched the front of the soft robe together and sipped the wine, hoping to calm her racing nerves. She needed to pull herself together before he returned, but that might take months. Too soon, he reappeared, placing a mouth-watering meal on the table. Salmon, asparagus, wild rice, and salad.
“You fixed all of this while I slept?” she asked.
Lighting a set of lanterns, he shook his head. “Reheated it. My cooking skills don’t extend much beyond breakfast cereal.”
Kara pushed away her questions about the actual preparer of the food and accepted each of the dishes he passed to her. She hadn’t felt so ravenous in years. After having her soul reawakened to beauty and her body to passion, she supposed perking up her appetite to food was a natural progression. With her plate full, she dived into the meal.
Accustomed to eating alone and in silence, she kept her thoughts to herself, but was constantly aware of her mystery lover’s gaze upon her. The glow of the flickering lights fought the darkness and created deep shadows on his sharply defined features, turning his watchful eyes into dark, mysterious pools. Whenever their gazes met over the flame, Kara looked away first. But it was impossible to ignore the movements of his lips, his jaw, his hands, and his eyes. His beauty continued to mesmerize her.
With her plate empty, she looked up and caught him with his attention fixed on her mouth. Her lips turned up in a slight smile, acknowledging that he might be similarly affected by her.
He pushed the remaining serving of salmon forward. “More?”
“No, thank you.” She fanned her face. “I think I’ve had more than enough.”
Ducking her head, she moved to stack their plates, more to ease the awkwardness of the moment than from any compulsion for neatness.
He waved his hand to stop her. “What happened between us was an encounter of mutual consent, but that doesn’t mean I expect it to happen again.”
“But that’s just it.” She twisted a cloth napkin in her lap. “I want it to happen again. Before I intruded on your afternoon, I thought sex had disappeared from my life forever. Now, I keep thinking about it. About you.”
His aristocratic eyebrows lifted. “Is that a problem?”
“It’s not like me to be so… eager.”
“Don’t stop on my account.”
“But I don’t even know you.” The words burst from her mouth like an accusation.
“Don’t you? It feels like you do.” In the dim light, he searched her eyes. “I have the home-court advantage here, but you’re allowed to make up the rules as we go.”
“When we were eating, I was thinking how this entire experience seems like a time out of time, like we're just a man and a woman. No names. No past. No future.”
“Like that French movie from the sixties? Are you familiar with it?” As if trying to remember the details, Wyatt looked up at the moon. He hummed a snatch of the theme song.
“I took a Foreign Film course in college and that was my favorite.” Kara nodded. “There are plenty of people who know a thousand unimportant details about me, but you already know things that no one else knows. Maybe that’s why this feels so good, so right, because we’re both free to be who we really are or whoever we want to be, with no expectations on either side. Can we have this a little while longer?”
“Just our names, with no expectations?” he repeated. “Is that what you really want?”
“Yes.”
Wyatt seemed to consider, not quite ready to capitulate. “For how long?”
“For as long as we both wish. Or until real life intrudes.”
“Whichever comes first? Let’s do it.” He put out his hand to shake on it. “Until then we’re just a man and a woman. Alone together, like Anouk Aimee and Jean-Claude Trintagnent without the haunting soundtrack. Doing as we please. Nothing more. Nothing less.”
“Thank you.” She stopped fooling with the napkin, took his hand in hers and squeezed.
“Don’t thank me.” Standing abruptly, he pulled her to her feet. “You don’t know what my motives are for agreeing.”
“That’s the beauty of it.” She shrugged impishly. “I don’t want to know.”
“Have it your way, Anouk.” His use of the French woman’s name sent the corners of her mouth upward.
Jean-Claude took the dishes inside and turned on some music. Reclining in the chaise lounge, she was a moon goddess staring into the night sky.
“When I have a terrible need for religion, I go out at night and paint the stars,” he quoted, watching her from the door.
“Who said that?”
“Just now, I did.” He scooted her over and squeezed into place on the chaise. “But Van Gogh said it originally, around the time he painted Starry Night.” He slipped an arm around her shoulders and settled her comfortably against his chest. “I know you’re interested in art, but are you interested in astronomy, Anouk?”
“I can't even see the sky from where I live.” She glanced at him sideways. “Are you one of those people who knows the name of everything up there?”
“I know some of their names.” He pulled her close. “The big yellow thing we saw earlier was the sun. The silver crescent you’re looking at now is the moon. Those bright twinkly things are—” He paused dramatically. “—stars.”
“Very impressive.” She gave in to the impulse to smile, realizing how seldom she did so. “Thank you, Professor Trintignant, but you can jump ahead to the constellations if you want. I’ll try to keep up.”
“Okay, we’ll start with something simple. The Big Dipper is the seven bright stars approximately seventy-five light years away and slightly to the left of the roof.” He pointed his finger in the correct general direction. “It’s part of a larger constellation, Ursa Major, also known as the Big Bear. See it?”
“Maybe,” she answered doubtfully.
He moved her chin with his hand. “Adjusting your sights a little bit in the opposite direction, the next bright star is Regulus, part of the surrounding constellation Leo the Lion.”
“Do you know the origins of the names, too?”
“I know some of the Indian legends. There’s an Anishinaabe Indian one about the bear.”
“Tell me.” She settled her head against his shoulder like a child waiting for a bedtime story.
“Once, a long time ago, winter was the only season on earth.” Kara’s mystery man pulled her body more closely against his. As she rested within the circle of his arm, his Southern drawl poured over her like warm honey.
Under the canopy of stars, she listened as he told the tale of Fisher and his friends, Otter and Wolverine, who climbed to the top of a high mountain together. With the help of the High Spirit, the trio broke a hole through the barrier of the sky so that the beautiful weather above it could seep through, warming the cold and barren earth below.
But just when the hole was large enough to let fair weather warm the earth for half the year, the inhabitants of Skyland came along and tried to run them off.
Fisher taunted the Sky People, drawing their attention away from the hole. When the people struck him with an arrow, Fisher rolled over on his back and began to fall. Because he had been very brave, the High Spirit caught Fisher and placed him high in the sky among the stars.
“Now,” Mystery Man explained,
“every year, Fisher moves across the heavens until the arrow strikes him, and then he rolls over onto his back and falls. When winter has held the Great Forest too long in its powerful grip, he turns to his feet and brings spring and warm weather back to earth.”
Kara cuddled against the man’s warm body, awed by the vastness of the universe above, at ease in the comfort she had found in this unexpected place, with this unlikely person. She should ask him to take her back to town, but she felt too comfortable, too lethargic to rouse herself. “Do you think everything up there is part of some grand design, or is it all just one big cosmic accident?”
He slipped his hand inside the robe and weighed her breast in his palm, as he seemed to weigh his answer. “I tend to believe a Big Bang created the universe, and we’re all the masters of our own fate.”
She heard the cautious tone lacing his words. “I’m not suggesting that our being here together has been decreed by the gods.” Nipping his neck, she wiggled her chest against his. “It’s just that you were so exactly what I needed at this precise moment in my life that it would be nice to think our paths crossed for a reason.”
“Some ships do bump into each other rather than pass unnoticed in the night.” He kissed his way down her throat, easing the robe apart. “But that’s all the coincidence that I’ll allow.”
“You call what we did earlier bumping into each other?” Kara tilted her head, granting his mouth better access. “I shudder to think what you’d consider a head-on collision.”
“Then hold onto your hat, darlin’.” His hand moved from her breast to the hollow of her stomach. “You’re about to find out.”
He tasted, touched and caressed all of the most sensitive spots he’d discovered earlier, and she returned touch for touch, taste for taste. His hands and lips sought her breasts. From there, his mouth moved lower to accomplish a shattering explosion that should have slaked her need, but only pushed her further from satisfaction.
Kara writhed under him and over him, physically demanding that their bodies be united. His golden eyes gleamed hotly when he at last thrust inside her.