by Dale Mayer
“You’d feel better though,” he said.
She leaned against the doorjamb, pondering her options. “If I’d done it before we went for a walk, my hair would even be dry.”
“Well, it would be mostly dry,” he said with a smile. “You do look really tired though.”
She nodded. “I think it’ll have to be in the morning.” She slowly made her way to the bedroom. As she sat down on the bed, she realized she hadn’t even shut the door. He stepped up behind her and asked, “Do you need any help? You’re worrying me.”
She gave him a wan smile. “All of a sudden it’s just too much again. It feels like I’ve done nothing but sleep all day, but here I am, right back to being exhausted again.”
“That’s a combination of the stress, shock and depression over what’s happened,” he reassured her gently. He pulled the blankets back on her bed and said, “I feel like I should tuck you into bed. You’re like a little child who’s so lost right now.” If there was anything to motivate her to move, it would be that. The last thing she wanted was for him to see her as a child. She straightened up, attempting a bright smile. “I’m fine. You can go.”
He walked back toward the doorway, still frowning at her. She shooed him away and said, “Don’t worry about it. Once I get some rest, I’ll be fine.”
She took off her shoes and socks, while he waited, watching. As soon as he stepped around the corner, she shucked off her clothes. She slipped under the covers and pulled the pillow toward her. She had to admit to being way more tired than she had expected. It didn’t make any sense. She briefly wondered if he’d put something in her tea. But it tasted just like tea, and she’d been the one to make it. Maybe it was the walk in the fresh air—or even the kiss.
She didn’t know, but something had suddenly sapped her strength. She closed her eyes and started to nod off. She heard him talking to someone, either on the phone or at the door. She didn’t want to hear any more; she just wanted it all to go away. But then she heard him say something about her staying another night, so she listened more carefully.
“She’s staying until this is buttoned up,” he continued. “No way she can be alone right now.”
She frowned at that. It bothered her to think she was so needy and in such difficulty that she had to be looked after. She was normally very independent, and to be in this position was unusual. Anything unusual, new or different was uncomfortable. Still, there wasn’t a whole lot she could do. She punched the pillow and rolled over, but now her mind wouldn’t stop.
It made her even more upset to realize he might view her as needy. Finally she sat up and made a strangled sound of frustration. He was there at the doorway in an instant. He frowned at her, and she frowned right back at him. “I don’t need looking after, you know?”
His eyebrows shot up toward his hairline. “What brought that on?”
She shrugged and waved her hand. “Whatever phone conversation you just had.”
Understanding lit his gaze. “Ah, so you figure, because I was talking to somebody about you staying here, that means I think you’re helpless, and I have to look after you.”
“Yes,” she said defiantly. “That’s exactly what I think.”
“So, let’s say that’s true,” he said. “What difference does it make? What possible difference does it make if I do think you should be looked after right now? You know the work I do. You know the man I am. I will hardly send you out into the cold to a girlfriend’s apartment, only to have the both of you end up dead by morning.”
“There you go again,” she said. “I could stay other places. If I’m not welcome here, I don’t have to stay.”
“Of course you don’t have to stay, but you are welcome here,” he clarified. “And you’re not my prisoner.” He walked in and sat down on the bed. “Where’s all this coming from?”
“I don’t know,” she cried out in frustration. “I was almost asleep, and then I heard you talking, and it just made me angry.”
He reached out, pulled her into his arms and held her. “Look. You’ve been through something terrible, and it’s not over yet. You need someone to help you, to give you some care and to help keep you safe. I’m right here, and I want to do it. It’s not a chore, and I’m not feeling used or abused. I’m happy. Now, would you please just get some sleep?”
“No,” she said. “I can’t. You woke me up.”
“Nothing could have woken you up if you were out,” he said. “Chances are, you just hadn’t quite made it to sleep yet, and then your brain wouldn’t stop again. Now you’re worrying about everything.”
“Of course I’m worrying,” she said. “Just think about how much has gone wrong.”
“Yes,” he whispered. “But it’s not wrong right now.” He wrapped his arms a little tighter around her until she was curled up against his chest.
“I could probably go to sleep like this,” she said, humor in her voice. “But that’s hardly fair to you.”
“Well, you would fall asleep,” he said, “and I could put you back in your bed, like a child.”
She snorted at that. “I’m hardly a child,” she said as his hand slid to her hip and slowly stroked her waist and up to her ribs.
“Definitely more than a child,” he said. “You’re all woman.”
Hearing the thickening of his voice, she smiled and squeezed him gently. She knew it was taking a risk. A big risk actually. Because she didn’t do relationships on the cuff like this. And having known him for a couple days at this level was not the same as actually going out and dating. But it hadn’t been the first time she’d made a decision to go to bed early with somebody. Though rarely on a first date. Back in her younger years, she had been a little wilder and had enjoyed the party scene now and then.
But she’d always found it to be an effective way to find somebody. For those moments when you were lonely and cold, it was great. But she wanted to wake up to this guy in the morning and not feel that same emptiness she had always felt before when she’d done the same thing. Regretfully she started to pull back.
He hesitated for a moment, and then he let her.
She looked up at him and smiled. “I’d still rather you respected me in the morning.”
“What the hell does that mean?” he asked, frowning.
She shrugged. “I’ve found, anytime I go to bed with somebody without really being in a relationship, it doesn’t work out. It’s great in the moment, but it’s not for the long-term.”
“And you’re not into ‘in the moment’ kind of relationships?” he asked, his head tilted to the side as he studied her in the half light.
She shook her head, her curls flying riotously around her head. “No,” she said. “I haven’t been for a long time. I guess, if I’m looking for anything, it would be a relationship. The kind of relationship where somebody would be there long-term.”
“And do I not look like long-term material?”
Since honest curiosity was in his voice, she wasn’t sure how to answer him but wanted to be honest in return. “I don’t know,” she said as she looked up at him. “You should probably leave.”
“And why the change just now?” he asked, not understanding.
“Because what I want is what I shouldn’t have.”
“And what do you want?”
This time she gave him a hard glance. “Don’t be obtuse.”
He gently stroked his finger down her cheek. “It’s not that I’m averse to it …” he whispered.
“Oh, no. Don’t you dare say ‘but,’” she said, “because that means you’re not interested. I’ve heard it all.”
He gave up on his strangled explanation, then swept her into his arms, grabbed her hair gently and tugged her head back.
When he lowered his mouth this time, she could feel the passion from deep inside.
She murmured something, uncontrollably wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him back with all the ferocious passion she’d been withholding. She was drowning in
heat, raging fires and relentless hormones. It seemed wrong in so many ways because of all the senseless death around her. But, at the same time, it was a celebration of life. A celebration of something special they had discovered. A precious spark she wanted desperately to protect and to foster into something more.
When she found herself flat on her back, the sheet no longer up to her chest, and hot skin was against hot skin, she realized he had swiftly moved them past several stages all at once, and she hadn’t even noticed. When she finally tore her mouth free, gasping for air, she stared up at him in the darkness. Her eyes were wide, and his were gleaming.
“You are deadly,” she whispered. But she was drowning every word with kisses on his face, her hands stroking through his hair and kneading the muscles at the back of his neck, as she reached up and closed his mouth with hers. He swept his hands down her body, pulling the sheet completely away from between them.
And, when she lay back down again, it was to have him come down on top of her. Her hands toured his back, finding he no longer had pants on either. Or boxers. She moaned, her legs spreading and wrapping around his hips, stroking against the hard ridge between them. She couldn’t get enough, and she couldn’t stop writhing against him. Her need drove her so hard.
“Easy, sweetie. Take it easy.”
She shook her head. “I can’t,” she said. “I can’t.”
He eased off to the side, lying beside her, his fingers gentle as they tried to soothe her instead of increasing the passion. She shuddered with every stroke, every touch. He slid his hand across her breasts, cupping them and feeling the weight. Reaching over, he gently latched his mouth on top. When he suckled, she cried out, her back arching against him.
He slid a hand down, stroking it gently under the elastic band of her underwear. She moaned. When he stroked his fingers over the soft cotton right at the V of her legs, her hips thrust up hard against him. He gently rubbed back and forth, the material causing a fiction all its own, and she couldn’t handle it.
All of a sudden her body exploded as an orgasm ripped through her. She lay shuddering and gasping, her body still rolling with pleasure as he disposed of the scrap of material, then fully stroked her plump lips, smoothing the moisture up and over the tiny nub. She jerked and moaned as her body surged once more against his fingers.
He shuddered and whispered, “You are dynamite.”
She shook her head.
“Yes, you are,” he said. “Liquid fire.” He suckled her breasts, first one, then the other, his fingers stroking up her ribs in a slow caress, his tongue stroking across each bone, finding the ridge and the valley between.
When he hit her navel, he stopped and kissed all around it. But she was already shuddering and shaking in his arms. When he hit the soft curls at the V of her legs, she cried out, her hands clutching his hair. Desperately wanting what he was offering, yet knowing it would send her cascading again, but this time she wanted him with her. When he finally touched her with his tongue, she exploded once more.
She cried out, “Please,” and this time he latched on and suckled her hard. And once again she exploded, quivering on the bed, desperate to have him inside her. She whispered, “Please, come to me.”
And he was there, easing himself into her as if afraid her swollen tissues wouldn’t accept him. But instead, she was so eager, so wanting that joining with him. And her body, already so hot, exhausted, but ready for him, made that journey inside easier than both of them had expected. Finally he was seated at the core of her. He leaned over and kissed her, their lips and tongues dueling gently in the night.
When he started to move, she thought she had died and gone to heaven yet again. She couldn’t believe how much this man stirred her senses and stoked the fire within. She moaned gently as he moved inside her, picking up the same tempo and surging up against him. Once again she could feel that same passion, that same ocean rising within. Only she knew the joy that was coming, and she drove toward it, letting him take the lead, until once again she was cascading over the cliff.
Only this time, in the recesses of her mind, she heard him cry out as he journeyed over the cliff as well. To find his own climax. When he collapsed beside her, she couldn’t stop trembling. With an oath, he pulled her tight against him.
“Are you cold?”
She shook her head but could barely speak. He pulled the covers up over both of them and just held her tight.
“I’m fine,” she whispered.
“You don’t seem fine.”
“It was just so good,” she whispered.
“Good,” he said, pure satisfaction in his voice as he kissed her gently. “Now, will you please go to sleep?”
She gave a tiny chuckle and closed her eyes. Her body replete, she curled into his body, and finally she slept.
*
So, that’s what it was like to be immersed in liquid fire, Taylor thought as he lay here, his heart still slamming against his chest, even long moments later after she’d fallen asleep. He’d never seen anybody so responsive, open and honest with her passion as Midge. Unbelievable. He cuddled her gently, her body now completely relaxed and wrapped around him. She was tiny, like a china doll. But apparently every inch of her was full of nerve, and she was like nothing he’d ever seen before. It had been the most incredible lovemaking he had ever participated in, and he wanted to do it all over again.
Even though his body was tired, humming and throbbing, his mind was unable to leave his thoughts alone. But she was so exhausted herself that she was already out cold. And he knew she needed that first and foremost.
He should have been honest earlier. He had noticed her many times. Yet it always seemed like the wrong timing. He was either leaving for a mission or knew he was heading out soon. He knew lots of guys who took the opportunity to go out and have one-night stands, just picking up somebody at a bar, but that wasn’t what Taylor wanted. Like her, he wanted an actual relationship, and it never seemed to happen because he always kept putting it off, thinking the timing would be better later. But there was really never any better timing.
But tonight she had taken it into her own hands, by asking if he’d noticed her, and he was damn happy she had. She was special. What was going on in her life was such a nightmare. She was tiny and defenseless against any assault, lacking any training or martial arts skills. She would be an easy mark.
Just then she murmured restlessly in her sleep.
He kissed her gently and whispered, “Sleep. You’re safe. Just sleep.”
She relaxed, draped against him again. He smiled at the knowledge her body knew him. Her subconscious knew him. There might be resistance in that temper of hers, which he happened to really like. But, so far, she had been dealing with some of the worst scenarios possible. It was his job now to help her get through this so they could find whoever it was going after everybody in her circle.
Taylor wondered for a long moment if they had taken the wrong tack. Maybe she just happened to have shitty timing. Maybe it was all an accident or a crazy coincidence. He knew many people didn’t believe in those, and he wasn’t sure he did either. But he was happy to look at any and all options if it meant keeping her away from a killer. He shifted in the bed, and, hearing her murmur of protest, he smiled, and his body relaxed.
If he could grab a little sleep himself, it would help. He doubted she would sleep through the night without waking up. If he had his choice, he’d love to go at it again whenever she woke up. He wanted to feel that same response. He didn’t think anybody had ever been quite so honest with him. Anybody who was not worrying about how he would see her or how he would feel about her emotions. It was such a unique experience that he couldn’t wait to delve back into that fire again.
He closed his eyes, letting his body drift deeper and deeper into the darkness. Only as he started to go under did he hear her murmur something.
“Chances, chances.”
He frowned, thinking about that, but she was obviously asleep. He p
eered at her and gently nudged her to see if she was awake, but obviously she was out.
She murmured again. “Chances.”
“What the devil?” he said, and it stopped, but he took her words with him as he nodded off to sleep.
When he woke up several hours later, it was the first thing on his mind. As he rolled over, he found her beside him, her eyes wide open. He smiled down at her gently, and, as she reached up to kiss him, he met her halfway. She snuggled into his arms and yawned. “Can you sleep some more?” he asked.
“I’ve woken up several times,” she said. “Each time I managed to go back to sleep, but I’m not sure I could this time. I think I’m slept out.”
“Good,” he said. “Now maybe you can tell me what the hell chances means to you?”
She twisted in his arms and said, “What?”
“As you were nodding off to sleep last night,” he said, “you kept saying, ‘chances.’ It seemed important.”
She lay here, frowning, as if figuring out what he was talking about. Then she shrugged. “I’m not sure.”
“You said it several times though.” He hated to be so insistent, but often the subconscious brought up the answers they needed. The conscious mind had a habit of burying everything, so it didn’t have to deal with issues.
“Do you know anything about chances?” he asked. “It would be a good name for a casino.”
“Oh,” she said, gasping. She sat up and stared at him. “It was a chances lottery.”
“What are you talking about?”
“We had an office pool. Started several months ago when the lottery had grown to a really big payout,” she said, frowning down at him. “And we were buying lottery tickets. Chances tickets. But not for every lottery drawing. Only for the great big ones.”
“And?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. We all put money into a pool. There was some drama about bringing other people into it. Apparently somebody wanted to bring in a family member or something, but, since it was an office pool, and they didn’t work in our office, how could they?”