by Sam Cheever
I thought of the Fates but remembered they were unavailable. Finally I got undressed and climbed into bed, fighting tears as I realized he was lost to me.
It was over.
A horrendous racket jerked me upright in bed just as I was starting to doze off some time later.
It sounded like someone was clanking several pieces of metal together and it was coming from the street.
I climbed out of bed, curious, and hurried to the front of the house, where a large picture window afforded me an excellent view of the street. A small car jerked and banged its way to the curb and then stopped with a horrible bang and thump. It looked to me like smoke poured from under the hood.
I realized with a start that it was Bion’s car, though it was so mangled it was barely recognizable. I’m not sure how he managed to get it to run.
Then he climbed out, looking like a refugee from the civil wars, and I forgot all about the car.
I gave a little yelp of alarm and ran to the door. I was halfway to the street before I realized I was wearing only a semi-transparent nightie that barely reached my knees. The wind whipped it up over my naked butt as I ran toward the man leaning against the battered hunk of metal that once had been a truly fine car.
“Oh my god!” I exclaimed. “Bion. Oh my god! What’s happened to you?”
He was filthy and his clothes looked like somebody had run them through a campfire and then shredded them with scissors. His hair stood up on one side and was matted down with dirt and, I strongly suspected, blood on the other.
His strong nose had a deep gash across the top and both eyes looked like they’d been blackened. His cheek sported a huge, purple knot and his forehead a gash. Blood had apparently run copiously from the forehead gash and dried all over his face.
He held one arm across his middle as if it was broken and he limped as he moved toward me.
I ran to him and wrapped myself around his battered body. Though he yelped when I hit him he wrapped his one good arm tightly around my waist and nestled his face in my neck. “Daphne. You smell so good.”
I realized I was gripping him with hysterical strength and forced myself to release him, taking a step back so I could look him in the eyes. “Did you wreck your car?”
He grinned. “Something like that.”
“We need to get you to the hospital.”
He shook his head, turning me with an arm around the shoulder so we were headed toward the house. “I heal fast. All I want to do is get cleaned up and then snuggle next to you all night. Can I do that?”
I wrapped an arm around his waist and steadied him as he walked. He seemed barely able to stand. “You really should go see a doctor.”
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine. You look like you’ve gone five rounds with a Bengal tiger.”
He laughed. “That’s pretty close.”
He wasn’t making any sense but I figured he was probably delirious from concussion or something. I vowed to renew my attempts to get him to the emergency room as soon as I got him cleaned up and feeling a little more comfortable.
Somehow I got him into the bathroom and sat him down on the toilet. I unbuttoned his tattered shirt and pulled it off his chest. Tears sprang into my eyes when I saw his beautiful chest. It was splotchy and purple with huge bruises. Just below the rib cage on one side a deep puncture wound still bled and I thought I could see something embedded there. I examined it closely and then pronounced that I would need to get in there with my tweezers.
He didn’t even flinch. “Do what you need to do, Daphne. I’m having erotic thoughts about Angels of Mercy and other nurse-type sex goddesses.”
I rolled my eyes at him and went to my medicine cabinet, where I pulled out rubbing alcohol and my splinter tweezers with the sharp points. I grabbed a clean hand towel from the linen closet and carried it, with the alcohol and the tweezers, over to where he sat looking pitiful and damaged.
I handed him the towel to hold and twisted the alcohol open, holding it over the sink and pouring it over the tweezers to sterilize them. Then I dropped the tweezers into a clean, plastic throwaway cup and poured more alcohol into the cup to keep them sterile while I cleaned the wound. I took the towel from him and held it under the wound. “This is gonna hurt like hell, do you want something to bite on?”
He smiled up at me. “What I want to nibble on would be damaged if I wasn’t careful. I’d rather wait until I don’t have half my car sticking out of my side before I start nibbling.”
I shook my head. The male animal was not to be believed. I held the towel tightly against his side just under the wound and poured alcohol over and, as well as I could, into the wound to clean it. I felt him stiffen under my hands but he didn’t move or make a sound. Then I set the bottle of alcohol down on the counter and grabbed the tweezers.
It took a few minutes of careful probing but I finally pulled a one-inch-long sliver of metal the color of his car out of the wound. I finished up with another dousing of alcohol and then used the damp towel to clean the area and remove the fresh blood my probing had caused.
I finished up by covering it with a clean gauze patch and taping it in place.
My examination of the rest of his torso turned up only fairly minor cuts and scratches and a lot of dirt. “You look like you’ve been rolling around in the mud.”
He nodded. “Just about.”
Since he didn’t seem inclined to elaborate I moved away to fill the tub. I caught him checking out my cleavage as I bent over the claw-footed tub to adjust the water temperature. I stood up and glared at him. “You’re kidding me, right?’
He shrugged. “A guy can dream can’t he?”
I snorted in a less than ladylike way. “Do you think you can get out of those jeans by yourself?”
He grinned. “My prayers are answered!”
“Idiot. Come on…” I helped him stand by grabbing him under one arm. Unfortunately I grabbed the arm he’d been favoring and he gave a little yelp of pain. “Oh sorry, sorry, sorry. What did I break?”
He shook his head. “It’s okay, I think I might have sprained something.”
Looking at the way the arm was all swollen and purple midway between his wrist and his elbow, I strongly suspected it was more than a sprain. Much more. “You need to have that break looked at and reset. I’m not taking no for an answer, Bion.”
He just shook his head and started trying to unzip his jeans with one hand.
“Here, let me do that.”
Somehow we got him out of his jeans and into the hot water. I’d made sure to keep the water level below the bandage on his ribs but he still groaned in pleasure as he settled into it. “I feel myself healing already.”
I grimaced where he couldn’t see me. “Uh-huh. I’m gonna try to get the dirt off you, okay?”
He closed his eyes and murmured, “Thanks, Daphne. I’ll just rest for a bit.”
He was asleep by the time I had his body clean. The water was a filthy brown color that was part mud and part, I suspected, blood. I drained the tub and filled it again with hot water.
I had to wake him to wash his hair and then I helped him out of the tub and got him dried off. He leaned heavily against me on the way into my bedroom and I thought again that he should have had medical care. What if he had a concussion? Or internal bleeding?
As if he’d read my mind he said, “Really, I’m fine. I just need to rest for a while.”
He was asleep before I had the covers pulled up to his chin. I stood looking down at him for a while, shivering. I glanced down and realized my little nightie was soaked and stained with dirt and blood. I pulled it off over my head and dumped it on the floor behind me. Then I climbed in behind him, wrapping my arms and legs around his body to take some of his warmth. I was chilled to the bone from fear and damp.
After what felt like a really long time I fell asleep still wrapped around him. My shivering had slowly subsided but the worrying thoughts hadn’t.
As
my eyes lost their battle to stay open, my last horrified thought was that I could still lose him. He could push me away and go on to Dema Pence. Or worse…he could die in my bed while I slept.
*
I awoke to the feel of hot sun across my face and an even hotter finger blazing a gentle trail down my body. It started at my throat, skimmed gently between my breasts, skated like a feather across my belly and slid…oh my!
My eyes flew open and found Bion.
He was grinning at me. “Good morning.”
I grinned back. “You’re still alive.”
He took a bow without lifting the lovely finger from where it had started to…oh my god!
I started to squirm under the wonderful onslaught of that adventurous finger and my tongue came out to lick suddenly dry lips. “You appear to be feeling much better.”
“I told you all I needed was some rest.”
“Yes,” I said as I tried to sit up, and he pushed me gently back down, “you told me but I didn’t believe you. I was sure you had a concussion or something.” I peered at him through narrowed eyes. “And a broken arm…”
He shook his head and lifted the arm in question. “Just bruises. Nothing broken.” I noticed that the gash on his forehead looked better. A lot better in fact. He hadn’t been kidding. He did heal fast!
The finger continued its journey over the tiny bud of pleasure where it had paused so wonderfully and slid into wetness and heat. It stopped there and slowly…oh so slowly…went spelunking into a wonderful, tight place that quivered from the tender invasion.
I gasped and arched my back to help the finger on its journey.
Bion shifted on the bed and something long, hot and hard suddenly rested on my knee. I smiled and reached for it. “I like your friend,” I told him as I rolled to my side and slid my hand over the thick mushroom tip.
He grinned. “He likes you too. A lot!”
“He does?”
He closed his eyes, making the finger do the hula hoop in its moist cave. I sighed my pleasure and increased the tempo on Bion’s cock.
“How do you know he likes me?” I reached down to cup the soft sac underneath and he groaned.
“He stands up whenever you’re around. He doesn’t do that for everybody you know.”
I gave him a mischievous look. “He could just be very polite.” I reached a finger toward the spot just behind his testicles that I knew to be an erogenous zone and massaged it gently.
Bion growled, “Trust me, he’s not that polite.” He flung a leg over my hips and before I knew it, I was on my back looking up at a very randy and very sexy man. “He definitely likes you though.” And then he slid into me and I felt pleasure, sharp and tangy, sizzling through me. His lips lowered to mine and I parted to let him in. His tongue danced against mine and found the same rhythm as our hips, plunging and nesting and then pulling out to test and tease, only to plunge again.
Wrapping my legs around his butt, I quickly settled into the rhythm, pulsing against him as his body met mine and held, and twisting to increase the friction as he pulled away so he could plunge again.
Heat suffused my face as my climax built, my skin tingling with the rush of blood that flooded the spot where our bodies joined. He fed on my building passion and met it thrust for thrust. The rhythm increased until the tempo we’d built overrode any restraint he’d wanted to embrace and he cried out as his hips pistoned over me, creating a friction within my body that was impossible to resist.
I loosened my heels on his butt and threw my head back on a howl of sensual bliss. His lips found my throat and feasted there while his body kept up its impossible rhythm, driving me ever closer to a complete loss of control.
The edge of that wave crept ever nearer until, at last, it broke over me and I tensed against him, my arms dragging his head down so I could plunder his soft mouth. I was nearly frantic with the release of sexual tension and my lips consumed his hungrily.
He groaned against my lips and then went suddenly, incredibly still. As his orgasm rolled over him, he surged hard, once, twice, three times into my sated body and growled his release.
Bion sagged over me, taking care to keep his weight off my chest, and rested his head next to mine on the sheet. His ragged breath tickled my ear and tossed tendrils of my tangled hair over my cheek.
I panted beside him, too sated to move.
Finally I laughed at the picture we both made lying there limp and huffing and he rolled to his side, laughing with me.
He reached to push the tangled strands off my cheek. “You’re gonna kill me, Daphne.”
I shook my head and rolled to my side so I could stare at him. “You’re killing me.” Then, without warning, tears flowed into my eyes and slid down into the rumpled sheets beneath me.
He didn’t ask why I cried. Which I found strange. He simply reached up to capture a tear on one finger and then did the strangest and most wonderful thing imaginable. He took the finger to his chest, right over his heart and made an x with it there. “Yours,” he said. “Forever.”
I sobbed, throwing myself into his arms. I knew it was an impossible dream. I also knew he was blissfully ignorant of the fact. And I was pretty sure I would die from heartache when he finally walked away from me.
But for now I buried my face in his warm, fragrant neck and let my pain slide away from me in my tears.
I had only now. And it would have to be enough.
Bion just held me softly as I cried, secure in the knowledge that we’d have lots of tomorrows. Lots of chances to share love. Lots of days to work through our feelings.
I knew there was too little time. Too little opportunity. Too much working against us. And way too much love built up inside for me to survive its loss.
Chapter Seven
Fates or Furies?
I watched the newly matched pair leave my office, closing the door quietly behind them, and looked at my appointment book. The afternoon stretched before me long and full. I had seven arrow ceremonies and three new prospects to interview and schedule pre-screenings with.
Fatigue, barely held at bay all morning, took the opportunity to slide through me. I glanced at the clock on my desk. It was nearly noon. A cup of coffee might help me get through the next couple of hours.
I briefly thought about lunch but realized I wasn’t hungry. There wasn’t really time anyway, my next ceremony was due to arrive in twenty minutes.
I crossed my office and poured myself a hot cup of coffee from the fresh pot I’d made for the clients who’d just left.
I had just about enough time to run to the ladies and tidy myself up. I’d felt like a frazzled mess all morning. Knowing that I had an appointment with the Fates that evening didn’t help.
I had a guilty conscience where they were concerned. About Bion.
As if on cue, a sensation passed through me and I straightened. My blood rushed a little faster through my veins and I could almost hear Bion’s soft footsteps as he approached my closed office door.
I closed my eyes and the feeling increased. I swore I could smell him.
The door slid open so quietly I almost didn’t hear it.
I kept my eyes closed and smiled, knowing it was him. But they flew open as the lock on the door clicked.
He stood just inside my office door, a single coral rose in his hand. He smiled at me and my knees nearly buckled. I set the hot coffee down before I spilled it all over myself.
He walked toward me and pulled me close with one arm, handing me the rose. I took it with a slight frown, casting around in my memory banks for the meaning of a coral rose.
“Desire,” he told me.
Uh-oh. On so many fronts. “How did you…”
He leaned forward and captured my lips with his. All thoughts fled under the onslaught of that kiss. My mind emptied of everything except the feeling of his lips on mine and his hard, insistent body pressed against me. My body melted into his, instantly adjusting itself to match his heat, his breath, his ev
ery touch.
His hands slid down to cup my buttocks, pulling me more tightly against the hard length of him beneath his tight jeans. He rubbed against me and it felt as if the clothing between us was made of the finest silk, a flimsy barrier against the raging lust his nearness invoked. I barely felt its existence under the force of his touch.
I sighed against his lips.
Bion pulled away and smiled. “I’m here to take you to lunch.”
My eyes drifted lazily open. “Huh?”
His sensual smile turned into a grin. “Lunch? You know, food?” He laughed as I continued to stare stupidly at him, my mind all but melted by his kiss. He made eating motions and I suddenly realized I was famished.
“I’m starving,” I announced.
“Me too,” he said with a grin, “but we’ll eat first. I know this great Greek restaurant.”
He grabbed my hand and started towing me toward the door.
Realization hit me between the eyes as he pulled my office door open. I pulled back. “Wait! I can’t go to lunch, my schedule is full today. I don’t have time.”
Bion gave me a slow grin and tugged me under his arm. “You have plenty of time, Daphne. Besides,” his lips brushed mine, filled with unspoken promises, “you need to eat.”
*
An undetermined amount of time later—since the hands on my watch hadn’t moved from the moment we’d left my office I didn’t know how long it had been—I sat back as the waitress placed a heaping plate in front of me. I closed my eyes and inhaled the incredible aroma of chicken roasted with fat cloves of garlic, accompanied by lemon saffron rice.
I took a bite and moaned. “Oh gods this is good.”
Bion grinned. “It is, isn’t it?” His intense gaze stayed fixed on my face as I chewed and swallowed. As far as I could tell he hadn’t touched his food.
I wiped my mouth with the linen napkin from my lap and looked at him properly for the first time since he’d swept me out of my office. “Hey! Your face is completely healed!”
He shook his head, looking down at his plate for the first time since the waitress had placed it in front of him. “I just have it covered up.”