Fever

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Fever Page 21

by V. K. Powell


  “Zak, please. Let me.” Sara released Zak’s grip on her breast and replaced it with gentle, circular tongue strokes. “Tell me how this feels.”

  Zak tried not to allow Sara’s tender touch to alter her sexual routine. Sex for her had always been hard, fast, and satisfying, and she’d always been in control. Slowing down meant actually taking time to experience the sensations leading up to orgasm. It meant feeling more than the physical. Neither gentleness nor mere emotion had ever aroused her. But Sara’s hands and mouth were warm on her skin, their effects soothing yet stimulating beyond corporeal reason. Tears clouded her eyes and she blinked to keep them from falling.

  “Too—tender.” Her voice cracked. “Too gentle. I need more—”

  “I know, darling. It’s exactly what you need. More tenderness. Just relax.” Sara settled between Zak’s legs and rested her cheek against her thigh. She continued to slowly massage Zak’s breasts as she blew a steady stream over her wet sex.

  “It’s good.” Zak’s craving reignited. “Touch me, please.”

  “Soon, very soon.” Sara buried the fingers of one hand in Zak’s curly bush and tugged tenderly. Zak’s clit twitched and she got wetter. She wanted to shove Sara’s hand into her opening but took a deep breath and concentrated on Sara’s actions.

  She pulled again, then trailed a finger across Zak’s clit with a feathery touch. “You like that, don’t you? Tell me.”

  “So horny. Need you inside me.” She tried to grab the aching spot at the join of her thighs, but Sara pushed her hand aside.

  “You’re so wet. I want to taste you so badly.”

  “Do it, please, Sara.” Zak’s sexual pain was easy to identify. It hung hard and insistent between her legs. But her emotional need for Sara transcended understanding. It seemed to permeate her body and mind with a yearning more overpowering than any physical desire. When had this connection become so imperative and how had it happened?

  She lay suspended between bodily heaven and hell, and yet the sweetest anticipation was wondering what she would feel for Sara next. Where would she touch her and what sentiment would it elicit? Sara handled her with delicate precision, as if she might disintegrate. If Sara suddenly withdrew all physical contact, their link would remain, an almost tangible thread tying them together.

  Sara dipped her head between Zak’s legs and licked her clit with a slow, tantalizing stroke. Zak’s hips thrust upward in response, but she forced herself to still and let Sara’s lovemaking bring her closer to the abyss. Sara’s hair cascaded over her legs like silk and heightened her awareness of the lightness of her touches. Another series of licks and her control was strained to the limit. Fire burned in her belly and spread down her legs like a menacing subcutaneous itch. Sara continued slow, methodical tongue swipes over the head of her clit, alternately flicking just inside her opening.

  “How does this feel, baby?” Her eyes seemed to gauge Zak’s reactions and she adjusted her workings accordingly.

  “It feels like you’re inside me, everywhere.” The words stunned Zak and she tried to figure out what they meant, but Sara’s actions distracted her.

  “That’s good, very good. Are you ready to come for me?”

  Zak heard a sound emanate from inside herself that she’d only heard from other women when she had sex with them, a cross between a plea for mercy and an animalistic growl for release. She spread her legs wider and encouraged Sara to take her. But instead of the fast, forceful finish she expected, Sara entered her slowly with one finger, then pulled it out with the same excruciating lack of speed. She flattened her tongue against Zak’s clit and dragged it back and forth in time with the agonizing finger pace. The tempo took hold somewhere deep inside of her and she relaxed into the flow. “Oh, Sara.”

  “Faster, harder?”

  “No—perfect, don’t stop.” A sharp spear of arousal stabbed at the base of Zak’s clit and quivered up the shaft. Unlike orgasms of the past, this one didn’t gush from her in a frenzy of hip thrusts and pinched breasts. It oozed through her system, satisfying and relaxing until it seeped out her toes. It moved with the surety of the African sun, slowly warming to a burning crescendo. Wave after wave of release washed away emotional poisons, left her sated and connected to Sara in an inexplicable way. It was like this woman had exorcised something wretched and unmanageable inside her and made her feel alive again. She trembled and shivered with the final ripples of orgasm as Sara slid up her body and rested on top of her.

  “Are you okay?” Sara kissed her face. “You’re crying.”

  “I am?” Zak swiped her hand across her eyes, surprised at the moisture there. “It feels like I’m leaking everywhere. I’m totally drained. How’d you do that?”

  “It’s that gentle touch. You like?”

  “I’ve never had an orgasm like that. It was amazing.”

  Sara slid a leg between Zak’s and snugged her thigh against the tender flesh of her crotch. “Now will you do something for me? It’ll only take a minute and not much energy.”

  “Anything.” Zak held Sara’s gaze so she’d know that she was serious.

  “I want you so much. I’m going to slide along this muscular thigh of yours a couple of times, and when I tell you, I want you to go inside me with this finger.” She took Zak’s right hand and sucked her middle finger into her mouth, licked it, and let go. “Can you do that for me?”

  “Uh, yeah.” Sara was already rubbing herself along Zak’s leg, the hot juices slick between them. “What if I come again? You’re so damn hot.”

  “Please do. Oh—yes. That’s it.” Zak could see the passion rising in her eyes, the painful pleasure on her face. “Now, Zak, now. Slow and easy.”

  Desire pounded between Zak’s legs again and she wanted to bring Sara with her quickly to climax. Instead, she remembered the exquisite release Sara had given her minutes before and entered her slowly, letting her set the rhythm. She rode up and down Zak’s finger with a pace designed to milk nectar from the gods.

  “Yes, so close. Do you feel it?”

  Zak felt the walls of Sara’s vagina tightening around her finger. She tilted her pelvis for greater friction with Sara’s pumping thigh. The realization that Sara was only seconds from orgasm started her own tremors.

  “Now. I’m coming now.”

  When Sara’s body sucked her finger with strong orgasmic spasms, Zak came as well. She cupped her hand over Sara’s sex and Sara’s fluids filled her hand. They clung to each other until the last of their climaxes subsided. Zak marveled at the sexual proficiency and emotional openness of this amazing woman. She pulled her closer and wrapped her arms tightly around her, wishing they never had to part.

  She’d never had an experience like this one and doubted she ever would again. Sara had not only given herself completely, risking rejection, but she’d also shown Zak another way to love. She was relaxed mentally and physically in a way she hadn’t been in years. Sara calmed a violent place inside her that not even she could quiet. But Zak had been selfish, accepting her kindness without sharing anything. And that wouldn’t be good enough for Sara in the long run. “Leaving so soon?” Sara raised her head from Zak’s chest and stared into her eyes.

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “You’re already gone, wondering how you got here, what I’ve done to you, how you’re going to make a graceful exit without hurting my feelings. And most importantly, if you mumbled anything of a personal nature during orgasm that might give me a hint of who you really are. Am I right?”

  “I don’t know how you do that. It’s like you know me better than I know myself.”

  Sara smiled at her. “That wouldn’t be hard, darling. You don’t seem to know much about your real self.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “You’ve been taught or trained to disregard your feelings. And when we ignore or discount them, most feelings turn into anger. You’ve got that one down pat.”

  Zak still held Sara in a tight embrace and didn
’t want to let go even though the conversation was making her slightly uncomfortable. “Then why did you have sex with me?”

  “I didn’t have sex with you, Zak. I made love with you. And I did it because I wanted to show you that there are other ways to express feelings. It doesn’t have to wild and animalistic to be good. It can be, but soft and sensual works too.”

  Zak had never felt so much a part of another person. She wanted to curl around Sara and sleep the sleep of the completely contented. “You’ve done something to me, Sara Ambrosini. And I like it.”

  “Good.” Sara pulled the covers around them and snuggled into Zak’s shoulder. “Tomorrow I have questions about the woman I love.” Her breathing quickly leveled off into a peaceful slumber.

  “The woman I love?” Zak’s initial response to the statement was to run, but her body was too comfortable, her feelings for Sara too new and undefined. Instead she relaxed into the moment, letting the words sink into her mind, finding a safe place to settle and grow. She fell asleep holding on to Sara and the words no other lover had ever spoken.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Sara woke several times during the night, anxious that Zak might have slipped out while she slept, but each time, warmth from the body next to hers reassured her. It amazed her how peacefully Zak rested, how her face and body assumed an almost naïve innocence. This was the woman she loved, in spite of the shell she assumed during the day to protect herself and her feelings. The calm that surrounded her now was so different from the almost inimical energy that consumed her as they started to make love.

  She’d finally aroused a response in Zak. The fire in her eyes filled Sara with excitement and apprehension. She’d seen that look before, once when they kissed and once when she threatened to kill Titus Wachira. It was an almost blind stare, hazy with a mixture of uncontrolled emotions. For a second Sara considered stopping, unsure of what to expect. But her gut and libido urged her on.

  When Zak’s ardor became progressively more demanding, Sara tried to shift her body to alleviate the rough pistoning between her legs and realized too late that she’d misread Zak. The passion she’d seen was a thin overlay covering a deeper more explosive fury. If she allowed this intensity to continue, neither of them would ever get past it. Zak had to know another way to express feelings that didn’t involve aggression. And she had to know Zak was capable of it.

  It had taken every ounce of her love and courage to ask Zak to stop. The look on her face had been devastating. But Zak respected her boundaries and was receptive to her guidance as she slowed the pace. Their lovemaking took on the duality of passion and intimacy that Sara craved. It had been everything she hoped. Now, more than ever, she wanted to know more about Zak, not to invade her privacy or her life but because she loved her. She’d opened herself out of love and knew Zak would see that. Maybe now she could do the same.

  Daybreak brought a chill to the air and an empty space at her back. She rolled over just as Zak reached for the doorknob. “Do you have to go?”

  She scuffed her shoes into the plush carpet and shrugged like a self-conscious morning-after lover caught sneaking out. Sara went to her, naked and shivering, and stood in front of her. “Do whatever you need to, but remember one thing. I love you and I was willing to make a complete fool of myself last night to prove it.”

  “Are you sorry?”

  “Never. I’d do it again if I thought it would make a difference. Maybe I’m not meant to satisfy, just to draw you to the desire. Only you know the answer. The decision is yours. I’ve given you everything I have.”

  Zak embraced her and kissed her with such hunger that Sara felt giddy. She curved into her body and surrendered to the kiss until heat threatened to consume her. She loves me. I feel it. When she stepped back, Sara’s lips still burned. Zak’s eyes were a deep passionate blue but her face was a veil of conflict and confusion.

  “I need time to think. And we need to get back to camp. Meet me out front in an hour.” With that, she was gone. Sara’s emotional heart stiffened in a progression that if unchecked could harden into stone. Stop it, she told herself. Zak didn’t say no. She didn’t reject her. But somehow it felt like the first step toward a strategic retreat. As she showered and packed for the return trip, she wondered how to fight such a well-entrenched army of defenses.

  When Sara checked out, the clerk handed her a sealed envelope. She handled it like it might be toxic and stuffed it into her oversized handbag. If the ride back to Talek was too awkward, at least she’d have something to distract her.

  Three hours into the drive, Zak was still regaling her with tour-guide recitations about giant termite mounds, habits of the long-necked gerenuk, and how the Ewaso Ng’iro River was being drained by farmers to the detriment of wildlife in the plains. An occasional glance in her direction and her nervous prattle were the only indications that Zak even realized she was in the vehicle. Her expression remained unchanged, and her tone and words never hinted at their intimacy from the night before.

  “Zak, you don’t need to entertain me. I promise not to ask questions or reminisce about last night if you’re quiet. I told you, no pressure.” Sara heard Zak’s sigh of relief over the constant rattling of the truck, and her grip on the steering wheel relaxed. It saddened Sara that being in her presence made Zak so tense, especially after their lovemaking.

  Last night Zak had relinquished physical control and allowed Sara to soothe her frazzled emotions. That was huge. It required a level of trust she hadn’t demonstrated before. She’d seen a new side of Zak, a softer, more expressive aspect that confirmed her belief that she was capable of deep love. Sara felt she’d been given a gift and wanted desperately to keep it.

  She looked at the envelope sticking from the corner of her purse and wondered if the news contained in it would be helpful or damaging. If it shed some light on her understanding of Zak, it would be worth the intrusion. But if Zak knew she’d had her investigated, it would certainly destroy any tentative trust she’d earned. Maybe she’d never have to know. Sara could file the information for future reference and not mention it. As she tore open the small flap, she knew she’d never be able to keep this secret, no matter how detrimental to their relationship. She withdrew a single sheet of paper with her attorney’s bold handwriting across it.

  This person does not exist in any database accessible to law enforcement or government agencies up to the level of top secret. I’m not sure what I’ve gotten you into, but please call and let me know you’re okay. Randall

  Sara tried to fold the paper and put it back into the envelope but her hands were shaking too badly. Instead, she stuffed it inside her purse and dropped it on the floorboard. What did it mean and what was she involved in? Suddenly her joking reference to Zak about being a spy or an assassin wasn’t so funny. In this context the purposeful distancing and mystery made too much sense. Sara had been brought up in a family that shared everything, but her relationships had certainly tested that practice. Rikki had proved to be less than reliable and honest. Now the possibilities of what Zak might have done in her life and the things Sara would never know overwhelmed her. And she couldn’t simply ask. She wasn’t supposed to know any of this, but what did she really know? Nothing. At this point she could only speculate, imagine, and agonize. She refused to believe Zak was capable of anything evil. Her body was still too tender from last night’s lovemaking and her mind was regurgitating at warp speed.

  “Stop the truck.” Sara slapped her hand over her mouth, holding down the bile that crept up her throat. She had the door open before the truck came to a complete halt. She fell into the sand on her hands and knees clawing, needing to feel something real, something tangible. When she raised her head, Zak was standing beside her offering a wet towel, a worried look on her face. “What happened?”

  Sara took the towel and motioned for her to back off. She wiped her face and held the cool cloth to her forehead. “Too much African massage on an empty stomach.”

  “Let me
help you.” Zak offered her hand.

  “I can manage.” She got unsteadily to her feet and backed up against the side of the truck for balance. She couldn’t force herself to look at Zak, torn between wanting to throw herself into her arms and beg the truth out of her. Instead she looked out across the savannah at a herd of elephants and thought, How apropos. Big-picture life continues undisturbed. It’s the unseen minutiae that cripples and devastates: the lies told, the responsibilities shunned, the feelings withheld, and the words not spoken. These were the silent killers that robbed people of their lives little by little. She couldn’t be one of those people.

  “Who are you, Zak? There’s no record of you anywhere.”

  Zak’s heat-tinted cheeks paled as she removed her sunglasses and drilled Sara with a stare that was, at best, unfriendly. “You had someone check me out?”

  “Yes, and I’m—”

  “Who? How long ago?”

  “What?” Based on Zak’s past behavior, Sara expected an angry response, but she seemed more concerned than a simple background check justified. “Zak, I’m sorry, but I’m in serious trouble here.”

  “You have no idea. Who did the search?”

  “My attorney, Randall Burke, a couple of days ago. What difference does it make? I’m talking about us, you and me, if there can ever be an us.”

  “That’s the last thing you should be worried about. Get in the truck.” Zak spoke as she dialed her sat phone.

  “It’s Ebony. I may have been compromised. An attorney named Randall Burke attempted a background search. He didn’t find anything but they could know by now. It’s been two, maybe three days.” She listened for a few minutes. “Yes, let me know if I need to do anything. Thanks.”

  When Zak hung up, Sara crossed her arms like a petulant child. Still resting against the side of the truck, she announced, “I’m not going anywhere with you until you answer some questions. I could be in the hands of an assassin.”

 

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