by A. J. Quinn
Tate’s eyes widened and she stared as Evan pressed closer. She eased back, looking shell-shocked, her face reflecting an endless array of conflicting emotions. Nervously twisting the wine glass in her hand, Tate watched Evan warily, offering shades of both resolve and surrender.
Evan didn’t fully trust herself to speak. Acting swiftly before she could say or do something that might somehow alter the moment, she took Tate’s face in her hands, settling her fingers against the curve of her cheeks, and looked at her. Just looked at her. And then she lowered her mouth, taking Tate’s lips with exquisite tenderness. Putting everything she had into it.
The kiss was no tentative brushing of lips. Instead, it unleashed a maelstrom of yearning. Her tongue teased and danced until Tate opened for her, and the kiss quickly became a mating of lips and tongues. Sensuous. Hungry. A fierce and vibrant thing.
She wanted this.
Needed it.
Craved it.
The flavor of Tate’s mouth tasted achingly familiar and for an instant, Evan took it deeper. She tasted the wine on her tongue and savored the softness of her lips, plundered the sweet white heat and felt the sheer magic of it.
Finally, with her heart still thundering and her blood boiling from the heat of the kiss, she drew back. Just far enough to stare wordlessly into Tate’s eyes.
She saw want there. Need. Raw hunger.
Or maybe she saw a reflection of what was in her own eyes.
“Evan?”
Evan gently took the wineglass out of Tate’s hand and put it on the table, shaking her head in wonder as she pulled Tate close once again. She found herself struggling to breathe. Her lips were still tingling. But something deep inside her settled to a level of contentment she had not known in months as she held Tate in her arms.
“I’ve missed touching you.” Tipping her head back, she closed her eyes, letting the breeze cool her overheated senses. “I used to love waking up in the middle of the night to find you next to me, naked and warm. You were always so receptive. And after…after I got shot down, after I was captured…I would wake up shaking after I’d dreamed of you. I’m shaking now.”
“Did you think I wouldn’t understand?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. I’m not sure about anything right now.”
Tate slipped her hands around Evan’s neck. “Be sure about this, Evan. Please,” she whispered.
Evan remained silent, instinctively knowing there was more and waiting for Tate to finish.
“When I thought I had lost you, I didn’t know how to go on without you. I survived those months by dreaming you were still with me, touching me. Loving me. But this…all I know is my fantasies could never live up to the real thing and I’m not sure I can deal with it if you—”
Evan placed her index finger gently across Tate’s lips. “Don’t go there. Maybe we’re both dreaming. But if we are, I don’t care. All I know is this feels real. You feel real.” She shuddered convulsively. “Since I’ve been back, I thought what I wanted—what I needed—was space. Distance. Time. But it turns out that all along, this is what I’ve really wanted. You’re what I’ve needed. You. I really want you…I really need to be with you.”
Tate smiled but appeared to be still caught somewhere between desire and the need to proceed with caution. “What about lunch? Didn’t you say you were starving?”
“I am. Can’t you tell?” Evan picked up Tate’s hand, kissed her fingers, one at a time. Licking. Biting. Absorbing the scent and the taste of her. Oh yeah. She was starving. With a hunger only Tate could satisfy.
Clearly wavering, Tate made one last effort to slow things down. “But I thought you wanted to—”
“Whatever I thought before, I was wrong. I want you. I want my mouth on you. I want to be in you. Right here. Right now.” Evan paused and grinned. “Have I told you how much I like the T-shirt you’re wearing?”
“My T-shirt?” Tate’s confusion was evident in her face. “You like my T-shirt?”
“Yeah. I think I’ll like it even better when it’s on the floor.”
Stepping back for an instant, she grasped the T-shirt by the hem and deftly pulled it over Tate’s head with a sweeping motion before dropping it to the deck. “Are you okay with this? Or would you prefer some other place?”
Her mouth formed the words against the curve of Tate’s neck. Without waiting for a reply, her lips slowly and tantalizingly began to trail over her. Brushing against her face, her throat, her shoulders. Skimming her teeth against Tate’s skin, she stripped away her control as easily as she’d stripped away her T-shirt.
“You can have me, Evan. Anywhere. Anytime,” Tate responded with obvious delight. “The only question left is what are you going to do with me now that you have me?”
Evan pretended to ponder the question for a moment. “Enjoy you, of course.”
Tate didn’t need any further incentive. With a soft sigh, she opened herself to Evan, welcomed her, let her in. Making her feel like she had finally and truly come home.
She moved her hands to undo the button at the waistband of her shorts. But almost immediately, Evan stopped her, catching her fingers and bringing them up to her lips.
“It’s been a while and I might not remember how to do everything perfectly, but I’ll let you know if and when I need any help,” she said, her voice hoarse with barely controlled passion. Her nimble fingers moved to Tate’s waist and deftly unhooked the button. She then tugged effortlessly on the zipper and laughed when Tate’s shorts slid past her hips to join the T-shirt on the deck. They were quickly joined by her silk briefs.
Evan’s laughter rippled like music over Tate’s skin. It was a throaty, sexy sound, and she realized how badly she’d needed to hear her laugh again. She stared at her sensuous, smiling mouth and suddenly desperately wanted it on her.
As if reading her mind, Evan drew closer. “I’d almost forgotten how beautiful you are.” Her fingers moved to catch and caress nipples already taut and straining for her touch. “I’m not sure you’re aware, but I have this fantasy.”
“Oh?” Tate arched her back and gave her better access. “And what does this fantasy of yours entail?”
“Kissing you until you scream.” Evan released a groan as she closed her mouth over Tate’s breast. She dragged her teeth across sensitive flesh, flicking a hard tip with her tongue and drawing out sensations before feasting with greedy abandon first on one breast, then the other, while her hands moved slowly, enticingly, lower and lower.
Tate shivered and felt the knot of emptiness and despair that had formed deep inside so many months ago finally begin to dissipate. “Where…where are you planning on kissing me?”
“Everywhere.”
Totally powerless, Tate whimpered when Evan momentarily drew away, but she was gone only long enough to shed her own clothing. And then her hands and fingers and mouth were back. On her. In her. Finding her hot and wet and wanting. Arousing her until she could barely stand up any longer. Until she thought she would go absolutely mad with wanting.
“Oh God, Evan,” she whispered thickly as the scent of her own arousal mixed with the erotic fragrance of Evan’s skin. “I feel like my brain just short-circuited. If you keep touching me like that, this will be over far too quickly.”
“Not to worry, we’ll have plenty of time to do it all again, only more slowly.” Evan laughed once again. “But trust me, not right now.”
Slow, Tate discovered almost instantly, wasn’t going to be an option for either of them. The next touch of Evan’s lips proved that. It was as if she had been waiting far too long for this moment and she couldn’t wait a second longer. With mouths still fused and legs no longer capable of supporting their bodies, they tumbled, pulling each other down to the deck.
Tate didn’t care. She was on the verge of shattering.
A sensual fog swept over her, clouding all reason, as Evan’s body covered every inch of her, and it suddenly felt as if Evan was everywhere, stroking her with hands and mouth and body. Tate gro
aned in response, the sound rising from deep in her chest. Her mind emptied, and as Evan continued her sensual assault, she was helpless to do anything other than whimper and writhe.
Tate heard the soft cries of pleasure and dimly recognized them as her own. But the realization had no meaning as she gave herself over completely and begged Evan to take her. Harder. Faster. Higher.
For an instant, she teetered on the edge. The next moment, all she could do was ride out the surging tremors shuddering through her body as those talented hands she remembered so well continued to move in a primal rhythm, shooting her to a staggering climax.
Gasping for breath, she lay limply on the deck, disoriented and delirious. A moment later, she felt Evan’s hot and clever mouth replace her fingers, claiming her. “Sweet Jesus Christ, Evan. I don’t know if I can—”
But Evan would not be dissuaded and kept her movements achingly slow. “Sure you can. You’re already so close. Relax and let me do this,” she whispered and began to trail kisses and nips across her abdomen, tracking a warm, wet path across her hip.
Tate was slick and swollen. Pulsing with need. As Evan sucked lightly, and then used her tongue and teeth and lips to draw out her pleasure, Tate arched beneath her touch, once again longing for release.
“Have I told you that I love how you feel, how you taste? It’s always made me hungrier. Made me want you more.” Evan’s husky whisper was like her mouth—maddening, searching, caressing. Velvet heat. She touched her open mouth to her hip bone in a caress that made Tate shiver.
And Evan’s hands were everywhere. Exploring her. Stroking languidly. Running over her abdomen. Tugging on her nipples. Caressing her every curve, seeking out her every shadow. Sending expanding waves of pleasure through her, until she was spiraling out of control.
The need arose in her so fast it burned. Heat and fire spread and consumed her. Strangling on a moan, unable to stop herself, Tate reached down and grabbed Evan’s head as the sensations pushed her to the edge of control.
Thrusting her fingers into dark silky hair, she desperately pressed Evan’s mouth against her throbbing clitoris, bowing her back and opening herself up as Evan slid two fingers inside her. And as she wondered how she’d ever lived a single minute without her, she peaked once again, even higher than before, and her breath released in a sob that became Evan’s name.
*
For a long time Tate was aware of nothing but a silky lassitude. She stirred slightly and moaned, muscles protesting. Her body still trembled with almost every breath, and she was floating in a haze of euphoria, an aftereffect of the pleasure Evan had given her.
Her first thought when her mind finally cleared was the realization she was lying on the deck of the flybridge. Naked. The sun was unrelenting in the sky, but the breeze off the water provided a measure of relief, cooling her heated skin.
She was still holding on to Evan and in no hurry to break the contact. Evan’s body was resting between her thighs, her face damp and pressed against her neck. Mine, all mine, Tate thought, and she laughed softly, marveling at how unbelievably well they fit together. Always had. Always would.
She finally began to understand how much of herself she’d been living without. Evan was the missing piece of her life, and she would always be incomplete without her.
Reluctantly, she loosened her embrace. “Evan,” she whispered. “There’s a huge bed down below in the aft cabin. Why don’t we go there now so we can continue this more comfortably?”
“That probably requires getting up from here,” Evan responded, her breath hot against Tate’s skin. “And I don’t know about you, but I’m not sure I can move.”
Laughing softly, Tate reached down with one hand, sliding it between their bodies. Watching Evan though half-closed eyes, she parted her hot, sweetly swollen flesh and brushed her fingers lightly over her clitoris. Evan’s response was immediate, as her stomach muscles clenched and she moaned her need and arousal.
“No problem. We’ve got a floor right here. For you and me, I believe that’s about all it’s ever taken, and I’m pretty sure I can do what I want to here just as easily as down below.”
“Tate,” Evan whispered in a hoarse voice. Her face flushed, and she raised herself up on her elbows and looked at Tate with need-filled eyes a deeper gray than the water beneath the keel of the boat.
“I thought you’d never ask.” With a triumphant laugh and very little effort, Tate rolled Evan onto her back before moving over on top of her, pinning her body to the floor. Straddling her, she reached down and cupped her face in her hand. Evan turned her head and kissed her palm.
“Let me have you, love.”
Bending toward her, Tate reached for her mouth. They exchanged long, slow, intimate kisses before she slowly trailed her lips across Evan’s throat. She traced her thumb lightly across her rib cage, sliding over a small firm breast, brushing delicately over the dusty pink tip. She felt it harden as Evan reflexively arched into her, and then trailed her mouth lower.
Her lips traveled across her chest as she rediscovered the taste of her skin. The only trace of control was in the gentleness of her lips as she kissed the healing cuts that bore silent witness to everything Evan had suffered.
She tasted every inch, teasing her with soft kisses and slow, deliberate caresses. Tormenting her. Pleasuring her while enjoying the deep sensual heat of her response. Her skin felt incredibly soft and smooth under her exploring mouth.
“You’re so damn gorgeous,” she said. “You take my breath away.”
She loved Evan’s body. The long, lean lines, the sleek muscles. As she absorbed the taste of her skin, every memory of touching her, the hours spent in pursuit of endless pleasure, came back to her, and she acknowledged Evan was a craving she would never get over.
She could barely breathe as she slid her hands possessively, watching Evan’s face as her head fell back and her eyes closed. She gasped for air as Tate took her with her mouth and with her hands. Driving, hot, and insatiable. Then again, smoother and slower.
And as her tempo increased once again, she recognized the tension building in Evan’s body, heard her rapid breathing. This was what she wanted. She wanted her wild. Wanted her thrashing.
“Let go, Evan. I’ll catch you. I promise.”
Evan let the moment wrap around her and let everything else disappear. She arched, enjoying Tate’s touch and ready for more as she let go of all the stress and fear and anxiety, and focused only on the woman above her. “Tate,” she whispered. “Please. I need you.” A roaring started somewhere in her head. For so long, she had refused to feel or think or dream. Now it was as if the dam had burst and the floodgates were wide open.
Tate teased her with a slow, rhythmic intimacy that unraveled her. Waves of desire—hot, strong, and pounding—surged through her, driving her to the very edge of madness. And Tate held her there, suspended, stroking her with her tongue and working her with her fingers as she shuddered helplessly.
It was sweet, it was hot. It was maddening. She gasped with pleasure and then her gasp became a moan as liquid heat spread through her body. She felt dizzy with it, and as she cried out Tate’s name, Tate moved swiftly up her body and took possession of her mouth once again. Swallowing her cry of release as she shattered and broke apart.
*
“What do you suppose would happen if we took the boat out into the Pacific and just kept on going?”
“I don’t know,” Tate said, laughing. “I guess someone would eventually notice we were missing, your brother more than likely, and send out search and rescue.”
Evan raised an eyebrow. “But I wonder how many times we could make love before they found us?”
It was a delicious thought.
Chapter Twenty-six
They spent the afternoon moored in the quiet cove. Reconnecting. Kissing. Touching. Making love whenever the need overcame them, which was often. Old memories faded, new ones taking their place.
There was no need to talk. Instead
, Evan let her body say all the things words never quite covered, and Tate seemed content to accept the answers her silence provided.
Perhaps no words were needed. The thought brought a smile to her face, nearly made her laugh out loud. It might be an illusion, but it was a nice illusion and Evan was just as happy to prolong it.
Joy was an emotion that had been foreign to her for too long, but she could still remember how it tasted, how it felt. It felt exactly like this. She recognized it in the feelings swelling deep inside her and in the smile she couldn’t keep off her face.
She was happy to find this chance to reclaim the life she feared she’d lost.
Deliriously happy to discover her connection with Tate was stronger than ever.
And sated beyond belief.
The rocking of the boat in the gentle swells lulled her as she braced her legs on the gunwale. Taking a sip of wine, she watched the clouds in the sky chase shadows and listened to the wind whisper secrets to the universe.
Inevitably, her gaze was lured across the deck until it settled once again on Tate. The rays of the late-afternoon sun were slanting across her, bringing out the highlights in her hair. Her eyes were soft and her cheeks and nose glowed faintly pink.
After a moment, she lowered her eyes appreciatively to Tate’s mouth. Her lips looked like they’d been thoroughly kissed and the corners were lifted in a hint of a smile—
Jesus.
She felt a stirring of renewed desire and wanted to make love with her again. All night long. Over and over again. She wanted to kiss every inch of Tate’s body. She wanted to hear every sound she made, every gasp, every moan that escaped her lips. She wanted to breathe in her scent and absorb her taste. And then she wanted to watch her as she came apart in her arms.
Evan chewed her lower lip. She felt her face flush and her pulse throb as need sparked and she was breathing erotically charged air once again.
“Not before you have something to eat.”
Evan hadn’t heard her cross the deck. Hadn’t heard her approach and place a tray loaded with food on the table. The last time she’d looked, Tate had been pulling a meal together out of the various foodstuffs she’d bought at the market. Now she was standing beside her. Quite obviously reading her mind and quite clearly trying not to laugh.