by Leslie LaFoy
"What are you doing, Alex?" he whispered, his hands on
her hips as he gently tried to keep her from inadvertently going
too far and bringing the pain upon herself.
She reached down and took his hands, threading her fingers
through his own. "Making a choice," she murmured as
she pushed his elbows into the bedding. She leaned
forward, her weight borne on his hands, the deliberate,
changing friction intoxicating. He sucked a breath as his
heart raced and his blood shot like fire into his loins.
Rocking gently back, she stroked him again, stopping
short of her maiden's barrier, then leaned forward again, this
time more quickly. He clamped his teeth and tightened his
grip on her hands, struggling to keep his awareness from being
swept away in the maelstrom of exquisite sensation.
"More, Aiden?"
"Alex," he growled through clenched teeth, straining to
hold himself in check, desperately wild with wanting.
She rocked back again, so fast, so hard that he was paralyzed
by the pleasure, that his frantic effort to draw her forward
came too late. For a second there was the ecstasy of
being fully joined and then it was swept away in the realization
of the price that had been paid. The cry started low in
her throat, rolling upward and slashing at his heart. He
bolted upright and pinned her arms behind her, covering her
mouth with his own and taking what he could of her pain
into himself.
The sound of it slowly ebbed away and she relaxed
against him, gently tugging her hands from his grasp. He
held her close, trailing tender kisses along the curve of her
neck as her hands came to rest on his shoulders.
Her eyes closed, Alex threaded her fingers through the
warm silk at Aiden' s nape, acutely aware of the pulsing beat
of their hearts, the feel of her breasts brushing against his
chest as they breathed, the little spirals of enchantment cascading
down from her shoulders and into the thrumming
heat and potent promise of their union.
"Your move, darling," he whispered, working his way up
to her earlobe. "Whenever you're ready for more."
She tilted her head back to look up at him and bathe in
the wonder of his gently patient, reassuring smile. Was there
a more magnificent man on earth? How could she not love
him with all her heart? Her move? Dh, yes, to accommodate
his hopes and expectations. And more. To thrill his senses
and take his breath away. To hear him gasp in sweet surprise,
moan from the depths of bliss. It would be her extreme pleasure
to move.
She smiled and the light in his eyes darkened, deepened,
and she heard the catch in his breathing, felt the jolt in his
heartbeat. With deliberate purpose, she pulled her fingers
through his hair one last time and then moved her hands to
his shoulders to firmly, gently push him back and down, her
hips still and holding him fast within her, her hands gliding
over his chest as his shoulders slipped beyond her reach to
settle into the satin sheets.
His heart was hammering. She could see it pulsing frantically
along the length of his well-muscled neck, feel it
thrumming against the palms of her hands and hard and hot
deep inside her. Slowly, ever so intentionally, she shifted her
hips, moving them in a languid figure eight. He sucked a
hard breath and his eyes darkened another degree as the corners
of his mouth drifted upward.
The friction was deliciously provocative and Alex moved
again, reveling in the heady delight of it and in the hunger that
came into Aiden's eyes. Emboldened, pleasured, she smiled at
him and drew the figure again, this time as she lifted herself
slowly upward.
"God, Alex," he groaned, his hands gripping her hips, his
breathing ragged, his smile stunned and wondrous. "Where
did you learn ... ?"
And then down, caressing the length of him in unhurried
devotion.
"Ah, darling, yes," he gasped, arching up to meet her.
She did it again, slower on her upward stroke, faster at the
downward and ever so much harder, more deliberate at the
end. And he met her, arching up and drawing back, matching
her tempo, sending searing currents of pure pleasure rippling
deep into her womb and igniting the hungry fires of
need and want. As before, conscious thought drifted away on
a wave of decadent enchantment, and with a smile of sweet
anticipation, she closed her eyes and surrendered all of herself
to the swiftly gathering, spiraling storm.
He was close, so close to the edge; the rhythm was perfection,
the friction savagely exquisite and compelling.
Aiden growled, desperate to hold back, to keep himself from
tumbling over before she did. But, Jesus, she was good. So
goddamn good. If he had to endure even one more luscious
stroke ...
The intoxicating ripple of her low moan shot through
him, heralding their imminent deliverance. She faltered as
her muscles fluttered around him and she gasped for air.
Aiden arched up and drew her down hard against him and
then rolled her onto her back. Kissing her fiercely, he renewed
the motion of their exotic dance. And moaned in unholy
gratitude when she picked it up and moved with him,
stopped breathing when she arched up against him and
quickened the tempo.
Craving her, desperately hungry, mindlessly consumed
by the extraordinary intensity of !he pleasure, he filled her
harder, faster, deeper and completely. The quivering in her
thighs deepened to sweetly violent quakes that held him
hard and fast deep within her. Her cry was part gasp, part
moan, and wholly unbridled in its measure as the waves
pounded through the whole of her body, as she reached her
culmination and pulled him unrelentingly, gaspingly beyond
control and into his own.
Alex blissfully floated in a sated sea, aware but not caring
that her heart was racing and that she was barely breathing.
Sweet shadows of pleasure rippled through her, their procession
random and slowing, easing her drift down from the
dazzling, wonderfully shattering heights. Oh, to have the
strength left to return there, to surrender to the thrill of another
ride to the glittering stars. Perhaps later, if she asked
nicely, Aiden would oblige her ever so selfish desire.
Aiden heaved a sigh as his senses settled back to earth.
Easing onto his back, he drew Alex with him, holding her
tight in his arms. Her breathing still as ragged as his own,
her heart still racing in cadence with his, she came along
willingly, fitting the pillow of her abdomen against his hip,
draping her arm and leg over him and nestling her head into
the curve of his shoulder. Aiden smiled up at the ceiling, his
mind staggering with the sheer magnificence of it all.
"As soon as I get my wits back," he said when he could finally
breathe and make his tongue work at the same
time,
"we're going to do that again."
She chuckled quietly and pressed a kiss to his skin. "Hopefully
mine are with yours and they'll turn up at the same
time."
Hers were scattered, too? Good. Knowing that deepened
his own sense of fulfillment. Which he would have said was
utterly impossible. "Alex?"
She snuggled closer to his side, nuzzled her cheek into
his shoulder, and made a delightful little purring sound. If he
had the strength, he'd roll her onto her back and start allover
again that moment.
"Honest to God. darling," he confessed, summoning all
that he had left to turn his head and press a kiss into her hair.
"I can't remember ever in my life being this incredibly satisfied."
"Good," she offered on a sigh that was pure contentment.
"I wouldn't want to be the only one."
Oh, he could get used to this. So easily. The next few
weeks or so were fairly well a certainty. He didn't plan to do
anything that would drive her from his arms. And after Lal's
replacement arrived and he wasn't needed to guard anyone
... Haven House wasn't that far away. And there was a
great deal to be said for the privacy to be had there. If he
could keep Alex blissfully smiling like she was right now,
she'd be willing to visit. Every day would be nice. Very nice.
Twice a day would be even better.
The longer term was the problem. How to keep her here
when Mohan and Preeya went back to India? He was going
to have to give that some thought. Tomorrow. Right now, he
was just too damn sated to plot and plan.
He gathered Alex closer in his arms and pressed another
kiss to the top of her head. His name slipped past her lips on
a dreamy sigh and he smiled as his eyelids drifted closed.
Life wasn't just good; it was perfect.
Alex awoke with a start, her heart racing, Aiden's arms tight
around her, and the peacocks screaming murder into the night.
She'd barely wrapped her awareness around all of it
when Aiden growled, "Jesus, I forgot," kissed her quickly
and hard, then practically dropped her into the bedding as he
rolled off the side of the pallet and onto his feet. "Barrett's
here," he added, grabbing his trousers and yanking them on.
"I have to go."
"Go where?" she asked, groggily watching him pull on
his boots. "It's the middle of the night."
"Don't worry," he answered, his words slightly muffled
as he roughly tugged a thick black sweater over his head. His
head popped through the top opening in the same instant that
his hands emerged from the sleeves. In the next, he snatched
his gun off the nightstand. "I won't be gone all that long and
I won't be all that far away," he assured her, tucking the
weapon into his waistband at the small of his back.
He snatched up a short black coat and was at the door before
he paused. "Wait for me, Alex. Right there. Just like
that. Please."
Clearly, there was no stopping him. "If you'll promise to
be careful."
"Promise." He was in the hall and drawing the door
closed when he poked his head around the edge, grinned and
added, "Sleep while you can, darling."
Alone, she listened to the peacocks and sighed. If it
weren't for them, Aiden would have slept through whatever
appointment he had. Barrett would have arrived and at some
point departed and she'd still be sleeping in Aiden's arms,
wrapped in the warmth of his body and his tender care.
Aiden was right; the peacocks had to go. And definitely before
tomorrow night. Alex slipped over to lie in the depression
he'd filled only moments ago. Burying her face in his pillow,
she wrapped her arms around it and held it tight, breathing
deep the heated, lingering scent of him. Missing him, she
wished him safe and back at her side.
Lord, she hoped it was at least a year before Kedar sent
for them. Two would be even better. A lifetime, heavenly.
Chapter 17
The peacocks had settled back into silence by the time he
reached the lower level. Knowing that they'd still be screaming
bloody murder if Barrett were on the back side of the
house, Aiden slipped out the front door and carefully locked
it behind him. He found Barrett in the shadows on the far
side of the street, dressed in black and smoking a cheroot. It
was the quick, hard red pulsing glow that gave him away. As
Aiden walked up to join him, his friend declared, "Those
peacocks are a public nuisance," and flicked ash onto the
pavers at their feet.
"Obnoxious, aren't they?" he agreed. "I was going to
shoot them yesterday morning but was attacked by a rampaging
herd of kittens along the way."
Barrett snorted. "You're certainly chipper for two-thirty
in the morning."
Two-thirty? Damn, that was a gaffe. "Sorry," he offered
sheepishly. "I fell asleep."
"Apparently rather soundly," the other countered, the tiniest
hint of amusement rippling under the censure. "Since I
all but threw a rock through your window-without effect you
didn't leave me with any choice but to set the damn
birds to screeching."
"Well," he countered, looking for a bright, but very neutral,
spot, "at least they didn't go on forever like they sometimes
do."
The end of the cheroot glowed bright red. After expelling
a long stream of smoke, Barrett said, "I didn't know that
you'd taken to sleeping with a candle lit. Monsters in the
dark?"
"No." There were times when he hated the way Barrett
could add things up and come to accurate conclusions. Secrets
were damn near impossible to keep around him.
''Then the book must not be a particularly good one. Not
if you're nodding away while reading it. What's the title? So
I can avoid it."
He couldn't think of a single one; his mind wasn't so
much a blank as it was awash in the memory of holding Alex
and drifting off to sleep with her curled against his side, too
sated to even think of blowing out the light. He deliberately
but tenderly closed the images away for another time and
met his friend's gaze with a brow cocked in warning.
"Welcome back, John Aiden," Barrett said, laughing quietly.
"It's good to see the old you again. You've been missed"
The old him would have grinned and suggested that when
he tired of his lover, he'd pass her along to his friend. The old
him had been a pleasant but largely indifferent rogue. ''We're
not going to talk about it, Barrett. It's not for sharing." Alex
isn't for sharing. You're not going to touch her. Ever.
''Understood.'' He took a hard pull on the cheroot, then
dropped it to the walkway and ground it out under the toe of
his boot. "So where are we going tonight? Or this morning
as the case may be."
Good. He'd drawn the line and Barrett had agreed to respect
it. "Hunting," he replied, his brain practically clicking
as it settle
d into the course he'd set that afternoon. "I'm betting
the shadow warrior is hunkered down in a nest he's built
somewhere close by. A place out of the cold where he can
see the house and keep watch."
"It makes sense. And I suppose you have some vague
idea where that might be?"
"If I were in his shoes, I'd take up residence in a dark corner
of someone's carriage house. Someone who's at their
country estate for the winter and isn't likely to notice the uninvited
guest. I figure we'll start along the alley behind the
Blue Elephant and work out from there. He can't be too far."
Barrett nodded and, scanning the houses along the street,
muttered, "I hope to hell you're the only one who has peacocks."
They slipped into yet another darkened yard, moving in the
shadows and Aiden thinking that if ever Her Majesty's Royal
Army or Marines needed to invade a carriage house, he and
Barrett were the men to teach the finer points. After a good
dozen or so, they'd refined it to a silent, flawless art. They
would scan the ground around the entire structure for signs
of recent human footprints, pause beside the door and listen,
look for the telltale flicker of lamplight, and slowly, quietly
open the latches. And when, that was done, Barrett would
hold up three fingers, then tick them down one by one. As
the third dropped, Aiden would open the door and Barrett
would dart in, low and with the muzzle of his revolver
sweeping in a wide arc from center to left ahead of him.