Asia turned back to the old woman. “Go on, Ida. There’s more, isn’t there?”
“Well, I suspect you know the rest, child. They brought us there to work the fields, to weed and harvest the fruits off the plants that grew in that heavy, yellow mud. The plants grew high, over my head, and their leaves were as sharp as knives. They cut you when you reached in to pull out the big, round fruits. And they were sticky, too. You were covered in sap as thick as pine tar as soon as you started, and the bugs just loved the stuff. Drove you plumb crazy. Saw many a young’un run off to get shot on account of them bugs.”
“They needed your smaller hands.”
Ida nodded. “The adults couldn’t reach in. They carried the loaded baskets to the hoppers. How did you know?”
“It was the same in the mines. Some jobs were reserved for the children, or the ones with smaller bodies, like my friend Dozen.”
Ida laughed. “Mines! Lord ‘a’ mercy, if they was looking for miners, they could have found aplenty around here!”
“Shoot, Ida, these guys gotta be the worst temp agency in the universe! From what I could see, not a one of the folks I was working with knew a damn thing about mining!”
The two of them cracked up, and Ethan had to join them, if only in admiration of the black humor that would let them laugh after all they’d been through.
Asia giggled and dabbed at a tear that rolled down her cheek from the laughter. “Yeah, the only question is, who the heck were these guys anyway? That’s assuming you and I didn’t both just dream all this up in a fit of imagination.”
Ida shook her head. “That’s the one thing I been trying all these years to remember, and the one thing I’ve never been able to see. We had guards, but they looked just like you and me. And as far as being taken somewhere—well, I reckon Mister Sandman musta done it, ’cause I don’t remember a thing about it. I went to sleep just like always one night and woke up the next morning with all of this in my mind.”
“Mister Sandman,” Asia repeated with a little smile. “Have to admit it beats my explanation.”
“What’s your explanation, child?”
Asia sighed, and Ethan’s stomach clenched in sympathy. “I don’t have one.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
We spent the two hours driving back to Bristol from Ida’s trying to talk around the big, otherworldly elephant taking up space in the rear seat of Ethan’s Beemer. We approached the subject from every side, except head-on. We couldn’t pretend the damn thing wasn’t there, but we were still too afraid to call it what it was. Ida and I both knew what we had seen was not of this world. And we knew the worlds we had seen were as real as this one. What Ethan and I didn’t know and didn’t want to talk about was where that left us.
We were still skirting that problem when we hit Bristol. It was late, and we were still full from Ida’s cooking, so we decided to skip dinner and head over to the motel bar for a nightcap. Once we’d settled into the booth, I took up the discussion again.
“Have you ever heard of these kinds of visions before, Ethan? I mean, does this kind of thing happen to other people?”
He looked up at the waitress with a distracted smile, waiting until the drinks were set down and we were alone again before he answered. “There’s very little in the literature that parallels what you and Ida seem to have experienced.” He studied the swirl of ice in his glass. “I’ve only had a handful of other patients who had anything similar. I pulled their records, tried to get in touch with them. So far, I haven’t been able to find them.”
A subtle little chill washed down my spine. “What do you mean you haven’t been able to find them?”
He rubbed at his forehead. “They’ve moved, changed phone numbers. I’ve got somebody working on it, but so far she’s having no luck.”
“What do you think they can tell us that we don’t already know?”
“I don’t know.” He sighed. “I just want to talk to them, see if anything has changed.”
His shoulders sagged in defeat. He was taking this way too personally, as if he had failed to find the right clue to solve the puzzle and was blaming himself for it.
I nudged the conversation in another direction, determined to undermine the seriousness with which Ethan watched me over his drink. “Thank you for today.”
He almost matched my smile. “What do you mean?”
“For Ida,” I clarified. “She’s wonderful. And she makes me feel like I’m not so alone in this . . . whatever it is.”
“I think she feels the same way about you.”
“Well, I hope so. We seemed to get along, anyway. Too bad it’s such a long drive back to Nashville. I would have enjoyed some more time with her.” I pushed on, wanting him to feel good about bringing us together. “I really enjoyed myself today. It meant a lot to me. Thank you.”
“Me, too.” He fell quiet again, watching.
I began to get a little self-conscious, the color rising in my cheeks. I couldn’t think of another word to say.
“Asia . . .” Something about the way he said my name struck sparks in the vicinity of my heart. I waited, barely breathing. He cleared his throat. “You want another drink?”
I took a moment to recover. “No, thanks. That first one went right to my head.” God knows why my inner Scarlett O’Hara had suddenly decided to make an appearance, but if she was there to save me from showing my ass, she was welcome.
I gave Ethan a speculative glance, deciding to take the offensive. “How about a dance instead?”
The expression on his face could only be read as sheer panic. “Uh . . .”
“Oh, come on.” Lady in Red was just starting up. “This is a nice, slow one. You won’t have to pull out any major moves. We’ll just stretch our legs a little from the drive, what d’you say?”
A slow, shy smile spread across his handsome face as he made up his mind, a smile so charming and sweet it stole my breath. He stood and held out his hand, and it was all I could do to keep from tripping over myself in my rush to take it and follow him to the dance floor.
We found a corner away from the lights and the jostling elbows of the other dancers, and came together. Despite his protest he knew what he was doing. He took my right hand in his left and tucked it in close to his chest, slipped his other arm around behind my shoulders to hold me just tight enough that I could follow him. I smiled, encouraging him, letting him know how much I was enjoying this, and relaxed into his embrace, sliding my free arm around his waist to complete the fit.
He moved—nothing fancy, just a simple sway and step to the rhythm of the music—and I moved with him. I let him take me, step for step, breath for breath, his body moving against mine. I could feel the heat coming off his chest, the strength in his hands where he held me. I was achingly aware of the light brush of his hips against mine as we moved, contact we couldn’t have avoided even if we’d wanted to.
I couldn’t help it; the music, the dark, his warm hand on my back—all of it made me drop my head to his chest and hold him closer than I know I should have. He didn’t object. I felt his cheek brush my hair, his arm tighten around me. I inhaled his clean, citrusy scent, spread my hand to feel the muscles move in his back, shut out everything and everyone except him. That he allowed me this closeness felt like a miracle. I didn’t stop to ask why; I just let it happen and thanked God for it.
Because I needed this. I needed him—his touch, his warmth, his arms around me. I suddenly needed it more than I needed to breathe. And when the music came to an end, I sighed and stood away from him, opening my eyes like I’d awakened from some kind of dream.
“That was nice.” I smiled. “Thank you.”
His eyes met mine. “It’s been a long time since I did that. I’d almost forgotten . . .”
I waited, but he didn’t finish. The tempo of the music picked up, and he steered me back to our table. The waitress had cleared our empty glasses, thinking we’d left, so we just kept going, threading our way through the crowd
ed bar to the outside.
I could smell the rain as we came out of the lobby, hovering in the heavy air and ready to drop. Thunder rolled through the clouds not a mile away.
Ethan peered up at the sky. “We’ll be lucky if we make it to our rooms before this breaks.”
“Well, I’m not running.” I stepped out ahead of him. “I’m feeling way too mellow to let a few raindrops dampen the mood. Guess I’ll just have to get wet.”
He laughed as he caught up with me, his boots crunching on the gravel of the parking lot. “We’ll see how mellow you feel once you start looking like a drowned cat.”
“This cat has claws, baby.” I took a swat at him to prove it. He responded with more laughter, opening a way for a warm rush of feeling through my chest, a gentle assault that took me by surprise and left me breathless.
We rounded the corner that led to our section of the motel as the first fat raindrops began to spatter the windshields of the cars in the lot. Within seconds, the rain was washing down in sheets, blowing through the breezeway enough to lick any exposed skin, leaving goose bumps behind.
The breezeways protected us most of the way back to the room, but the last hundred feet or so required a dash across the open parking lot to the other building. The sluicing rain had set up a stream of water three inches deep and twelve feet wide sliding down through the center of the lot, and the rain was pelting down harder than ever. I took off my jacket and held it over my head, but by the time we’d splashed and slogged through to the other side I was soaked to the skin from top to bottom.
My room was closest. I pulled out my keycard and swiped it in a hurry. Dripping, we tumbled inside and slammed the door behind us. Ethan’s hand hit the light switch just as a boom! and a flash took all light from the room. I jumped and grabbed for him in the sudden darkness. He caught me with a laugh, and we stood together shivering while thunder shook the walls and I slowly realized lightning had just taken out the power.
“Shit.” I was more than a little embarrassed that I’d reacted so dramatically. “Not only a drowned cat, but a scaredy one, too.” But I couldn’t control the trembling that had started up in my arms and legs and was quickly progressing to every muscle in my body.
Ethan pulled me into his chest and wrapped his arms around me. “You’re just cold.” And I admit the warmth of his body had an immediate effect on me. The tremors slowed, replaced by the slow thud of my heart recognizing suddenly how close we were, how easy it would be to touch and be touched, to take the next step and the next until we lay naked and satisfied in each other’s arms.
But if Ethan was thinking that way, he gave no sign of it. Smiling, he pulled back a little and brushed the wet hair out of my face. “Better?” I could have nodded brightly and turned away to end the moment, but I didn’t. I left my hands lying lightly on his damp chest, feeling his heartbeat and his heat through my fingertips. I brought our hips together, grazing the thick ridge of his erection down the left leg of his jeans. I sent a challenge deep into his eyes, eyes that even in the dark watched me with growing understanding. And I waited.
We stood in that tortured limbo for a long moment until at last he moved, bending to brush his lips across mine. When I arched against him in response, he covered my mouth with his and kissed me hard. There was hunger in that kiss and a deep, searching need that ignited a kindred fire in me. I let the taste of him and the smooth, slippery slide of his tongue feed that flame inside me until it began to run like molten metal in my veins. Our bodies melded together, his hands slipping behind my back to press me close, and I felt every inch of him, hard and insistent, in the hollow of my hip. In seconds I was softening, opening to make room for him, already wet and ready to receive him without so much as a touch.
So I was stunned when he drew back and broke the connection. I couldn’t read his expression in the dark, but I could still hear his labored breathing. I could still feel his heart pounding in his chest. And I knew without looking or reaching to measure it, that his hard-on was still just as evident.
I managed to find just enough wits to ask him, “What’s wrong?”
“I have to go.” He backed up half a step, trying to re-create a distance between us that now no longer existed.
I closed the space again. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Asia, we can’t do this.” His voice was barely audible. “You were my patient.”
“I’m a grown woman, Ethan,” I shot back. “I can make my own choices. Unless you still think I’m crazy.”
“You were never crazy. That doesn’t mean this isn’t wrong.”
His actions had already spoken loud and clear. His words scarcely penetrated the haze of sexual energy we’d generated. This darkened hotel room full of mutually consenting pheromones was a long way from my idea of exploitation. I was mad now. His rejection hurt, and the throb in my groin was like a hand squeezing me. I wanted him so much I couldn’t think straight, so much I did something then I would never have done in a more rational moment. I ripped at the snap on his jeans, pulled down the zipper and reached inside for him.
We gasped together, groaning as my fingers closed around him. My God, he was built! Velvet and steel, length and thickness, an eager leap of response met my grip as I maneuvered my prize between us. I captured him beneath my T-shirt, between my palm and my bare belly, and I held him there, skin to skin.
“Hell, yes, it’s wrong.” I tried, and failed, to keep my voice from shaking. “I shouldn’t want you, but tell me you don’t want it as bad as I do, Ethan. Tell me you don’t want me, and you can walk out that door, and we’ll forget this ever happened.”
For an endless time he said nothing, did nothing. Nothing moved except for his breath and mine lifting and falling raggedly in our chests, my hand sliding slowly up and down between us. In that timeless moment my heightened senses flooded me with awareness—the hot spike of his cock pressing into my belly, my frantic heartbeat and his pulse beating into my palm, the clean, masculine scent of his skin, the sound of the rain and the thunder outside.
Then, at last, just when I was sure he would leave me desolate and alone, he surrendered. With a growl of desperate need he clamped a hand on either side of my ribcage and lifted me up and back until he had me pinned against the wall. “Damn it, Asia.” He pulled my sweater and both my arms above my head and held them there, leaving my mouth turned up to his bruising kiss and my body open to the press of his chest and hips. His tongue slipped in and out of my mouth, carrying his taste across my lips, and I alternately pursued and invited him, soft moans escaping me with every breath.
He broke off and rocked into me. My core responded with a rush of pulsing need.
“How can you think I don’t want you?” His lips were warm at my ear. “You’re the most beautiful, most amazing woman I’ve ever known. Every rule says I can’t have you and yet . . . oh, fuck.” He dropped his head to nip at my earlobe and the sensitive skin where my neck met my shoulder. The contrast between his lips, so soft and warm, and the rough abrasion of his beard against my skin made me shiver.
There was something incredibly sexy about the fact that he was still completely clothed except for one heart-stopping detail—his denim shirt still buttoned except for the front shirttail that split over his emerging shaft, his jeans still clinging to his hips and thighs, covering everything except that delicious package—and I was almost completely naked for him. And now that I could no longer touch him, I wanted only to feel him in my hand again. I wanted to stroke him, to tease him, to squeeze and fondle him. To have my hands held prisoner, unable to experience him at all, was exquisitely frustrating. I whimpered, wriggling in his hold.
Ethan pulled back to look at me, and I heard him suck in a breath. I was no longer cold from the soaking I’d taken in the rain, but my skin was still wet and my nipples were tight with desire. In his devouring gaze I saw the woman I was, and I felt a kind of power I’d never felt before, a power I wanted to use only to give him pleasure.
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He was still looking at me, watching me, as he dropped one hand to my breast, warming the skin with his palm, teasing the nipple between his thumb and finger. I moaned as he bent to lift me to his mouth, and his tongue flickered across the sensitive peak, sending a sizzle of liquid fire deep into my belly. But he was only giving me a taste of what he could do to me; he shifted and teased the other breast lightly in the same way, leaving me hungry for more.
He moved to one side and drew my hands up higher above my head. Then, just as I had done, God, yes! he yanked open the snaps of my jeans and slipped his hand inside. He groaned as he discovered how wet I was for him.
“Jesus, Asia. I could take you here against the wall right now.”
“Do it.” It sounded like an order, but I would have begged him. I was mindless with need.
“No.” His hand gently squeezed and released, massaging my swollen flesh until it melted under his touch. “I want to make this last.” His fingers slid into the slick groove between my thighs, circling, circling and finally—God!—penetrating.
“Ethan!” I moaned, sliding down the wall as I lost nearly all control. I was hot and aching, so close to coming I couldn’t stand up.
He picked me up, then, and carried me to the bed. He stretched me out and freed me from the rest of my clothes, then quickly stripped off his own and came back to me. I reached for him, free at last and eager to touch him, and he placed one knee on the bed near my shoulder and gave himself over to me with a smile.
Lord, he was beautiful—long and thick and lusciously erect, rising straight out of his taut, heavy sac. I wanted to taste every inch, every contour and pulsing vein, but I knew we were both too tightly wound to stand it. Instead, I took just the juicy plum of his tip into my mouth. I wrapped my hand around the rigid shaft and savored Ethan’s sharp intake of breath and deep groan as I slowly slid my grip down to the root and back up. I could feel the rising tension in his body as I gently explored him with my tongue; he endured it only briefly before his hand closed tightly over mine.
Unchained Memory (The Interstellar Rescue Series Book 1) Page 14