Waiting for Magic

by Susan Squires

  He blinked several times, rapidly.

  “Well, one has to be responsible. Even if one is a little inebriated,” she said with all the dignity she could muster, enunciating carefully. She tore open the box and got a little foil packet out. He was very focused on her mouth as she tore the corner off with her teeth. That left her with a round, rimmed rubber. He made a move to help her, but she pushed his hands away. “No, no, no. I want to do this. You put your hands behind your head.” She gave him what she hoped was a wicked smile. “Just enjoy.”

  He took a deep breath. Expanding his chest made his ribs stand out, hollowing his muscled belly even more. He nodded, watching her as she scooted down to his hips and leaned her upper arm on his thigh. She held up his hard shaft with one hand and placed the ring of the condom over the tip. It wasn’t too hard to roll it down. She was very pleased with herself. Then she frowned. “Do you think all this will fit in me?”

  He swallowed then nodded.

  “You don’t look too sure.”

  All of sudden he seemed to collapse a little. He unclasped his hands and got up on his elbow. “Look, Kee … I, uh, I don’t want you to think … I mean, I’m really sorry, but.…”

  He didn’t want to do it with her. Oh, my God. To let her get this far.… She sucked in a little, shocked breath.

  “No,” he said sharply, panic in his eyes. “That’s not what I meant.” He turned his face away. Was he ashamed?

  Well, of course he was ashamed. She should be ashamed as well. She held herself still, trembling a little.

  “I … I’ve never done this, Kee.” His voice was hoarse and thick.

  Never made love to anyone? Including Surfer Girl?

  Good. He hadn’t shared himself with anyone else. For tonight he was all hers and she wouldn’t think about how temporary that was. They just had to muddle through without screwing up. “I haven’t either,” she said. “I’ve read books though.”

  “Romance books, I bet.”

  “Yes. Romance books,” she said defensively. “They’re very specific. And it’s more than you’ve read.”

  “I swiped a book from Tris when he moved out to live over his shop. I know what I’m doing.” He paused. “In theory.”

  Tris had a book like that? Hmmm.

  “He got it from Kemble,” Devin answered her unspoken question.

  “So, passed from brother to brother, no doubt stained and dog-eared by now,” she grinned. “Father probably gave it to Kemble just so he didn’t have to have ‘the conversation.’ ”

  Devin grinned and shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “I bet it’s all clinical and everything.”

  “Better than inaccurate wish fulfillment in those books you read.”

  “I think I liked you better silent.”

  “Did you?” His eyes were glowing again. “Well, I can arrange that. And you can show me what you learned while I show you what I’ve learned.”

  “Oh, good. The ole ‘you show me yours and I’ll show you mine.’ We’re not nine.”

  “No,” he breathed. “We’re not.”

  And then he touched her face, cradling her jaw, very tenderly. It made her breath catch in her throat. He pushed up to almost sitting so he could reach his lips to her throat. That made the muscles in his arm and shoulder bunch, and Kee started breathing again, in little, awed gasps. His lips moved over her throat so softly, and there he was, flicking his tongue against the pulse in the notch of her throat. Could he feel it alternately pounding and fluttering? His other hand slid around her waist and down over her buttocks, rubbing in little circles, and she put her hands on his shoulders, squeezing, just because she couldn’t help herself. She didn’t have to look to know what pressed against her thigh.

  He was working his way down, and she knew where he was going, but she had to have something else first, so she lifted his chin. It was if her touch was magic. He didn’t resist. It was like he responded to her every thought. There he was, looking at her, expectant, but willing to wait. She didn’t ask. She just lowered her lips to his. It was like unlocking some spring mechanism. He took her in his arms, almost fiercely, and kissed her thoroughly and deeply. Way different than the kisses she’d shared with Tommy Johnson when she was in grade school, before the Breakers had been turned into a fortress. Different than the kiss of Mick … Mick Something when she was thirteen, and had been a little appalled by the wetness of it all. Now Devin’s tongue searching her mouth and his strong arms holding her seemed nearly perfect.

  *****

  How could he have forgotten to kiss her first? Devin cursed the fact that he hadn’t read a few romance books. But he had to have her breasts. He needed to suckle at them as if they were the wellspring of life. He was going to kiss her lots before tonight was through. He deepened the kiss while he caressed the side of her breast until he felt a shudder run through her. Now was his chance. He broke the kiss and made his way once more down her throat. But now his left hand moved to cup her breast fully and squeeze lightly. He wanted to knead it, pluck at the nipple, but he made himself be very, very gentle, just brushing over her nipple with his thumb. Was that too much? She moaned a little. But she didn’t push him away, so he kissed the top of her other breast, his hair flopping over his forehead and brushing her delicate skin. And then he was there, kissing her other nipple and finally fixing his wet mouth over it, sucking a little more, feeling it tighten and peak. She was as soft and perfect as he’d always known she would be. He pulled her back to lay next to him, now turning his attention to her other nipple. She was making soft, mewling sounds that made him feel strong, powerful, protective.

  His mind had sharpened. That much liquor shouldn’t have faded yet, but he seemed to exist in some universe of sensuality where every nerve and fiber was attuned to her. He wanted to kiss another place on her. But he wasn’t sure romance books included that and he wanted this time to be perfect for her. So he smoothed one hand over her hip and then around and between her long, white legs. She was soaking wet. But that didn’t mean she was ready. He had to coax her with a sample of pleasures to come. The book had been very clear on that. Especially because she was a virgin. God, could he hurt Kee? But better him than some Museum Schmuck, who might not even take the time to realize she’d never made love to a man before.

  So he put his palm over the soft, curling hair of her mound, and slipped his fingers into her slick creases. It made him take a sharp breath. The folds within folds were a moist labyrinth. Where was it? The book said up high. He dragged his middle finger up. Uh! He couldn’t miss that. She writhed against his hand. Target achieved. It was bigger than he expected. Yeah. The book said it swelled up when the female was aroused. Kee seemed pretty aroused. Her head was thrown back so her wet hair hung down her back, her lips parted for little pants of air, and her hands clutching his shoulders had started to unconsciously dig in with her nails. He rubbed up and down. And on the down stroke he started sliding his finger into her tight, pulsing passage. Just a little at first, then back up, then down, and further in. Kee was giving little grunts.

  But he had another agenda too. He wanted to loosen her so she could accommodate him, and see if her hymen was still attached all the way around. The book said it wouldn’t be as painful if it had been torn a little during normal activities: riding horses and bicycles, climbing trees, that sort of thing. Kee had done all of that. He touched the barrier. On the next downward stroke he put a second finger in. Kee moaned and he went in and out a little and sucked on her nipple a little harder to distract her while he felt around. She seemed to like that too, because she wriggled against him, trying to get his fingers deeper inside her.

  Devin felt an immense relief well up inside him. Thank goodness for trees and horses. He thought she might be more than half open. And she was so responsive. He could make this good for her. He could.

  He flicked across her sensitive nub and she made a little shriek. Just soft, but Devin decided he had another worry. So he scooted over on the bed
and moved her gently to her back, keeping up his gentle stroking. Then he stopped sucking on a breast and looked up at her. Her eyes were almost dazed with excitement. He put his hand over her mouth, very softly, a question in his eyes. She hesitated then nodded. If she didn’t have to worry about being quiet, she could enjoy her climax more. He smiled at her, hoping she could see in his eyes how beautiful he thought she was. She licked his palm. He had to count prime numbers for a minute or he would have lost it. He scraped his chest across her nipple as he reached his mouth to kiss her throat, even as he kept up his stroking of her most private areas. Her thighs were spread in invitation to continue, and she arched up into his hand as he rubbed across her swollen tissue.

  And then he wasn’t sure she was even seeing him as he rubbed a little faster. Her eyes glazed over, looking inward in fascination. Her tide must be rising toward climax. He redoubled his efforts, but made sure to give her little moments of relief, which the book said only made the next high higher. He saw the moment she went over the edge. His hand clamped a little tighter over her mouth so she could just let go. The muffled cries against his palm were sweet music. She jerked against his hand, on and on, pressing herself into him.

  Finally she jerked her hips away, almost involuntarily, and he removed his hand. She gasped and shuddered and started to cry.

  Oh, my God. He scooted up. “Kee, Kee what’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

  She shook her head convulsively, but continued to cry, big heaving sobs that tore at him.

  He didn’t know what to do. He felt so helpless. What had he done wrong? She buried her head in his shoulder and he put his arms gently around her, afraid to make the situation worse. “What can I do, Kee?”

  Her sob subsided into hiccups and finally she took a big shuddering breath and looked up at him. “That was the most beautiful, most astounding … thing ever. I had no idea.…”

  He grinned, proud. He had done that for her. “You’re … you’re okay?”

  “Yeah.” She swallowed. “A little overwhelmed.”

  “That could be good,” he ventured.

  “Good doesn’t begin to cover it.” Her smile was so soft. Her lips were slightly swollen. She put her arms around him and held him close. So that was what a sated woman looked like. “Devin, that book is priceless.” He wasn’t sure, but she might have meant he was priceless. That felt damned fine. She looked down. He was still rock hard inside the condom. “Shouldn’t you have a turn?”

  Nothing he wanted more. But he knew from the book that if he waited just a little while longer, she’d be able to come again. “In a minute.”

  So he just held her, while she snuggled into him, and he realized all the pain of her touch recently was just that overwhelming feeling that was really pleasure. Pleasure/pain from touching Kee was all he wanted. How had he been afraid of holding her? Because he would lose her? Certain fact. But he couldn’t refuse to play just because he was bound to lose. He’d miss, well, everything in life. Wasn’t everyone bound to die? That was the ultimate loss. And yet he could choose to live while he could, if he was smart.

  Kee’s hand had moved slightly. She was feeling the muscles in his back. Her palm smoothed down over his butt, so different from hers. She seemed to like it though because she made that kind of yummy sound again and squeezed. He squeezed his muscles back.

  “So, you think it’s time yet?” she whispered.

  “Maybe so.” It better be, because he was going to spurt into that condom with or without Kee, if he wasn’t careful. And that wouldn’t be fair. He bent and took her breast in his mouth again. She seemed to have really sensitive breasts. He was rewarded with a moan. “Was it okay that I held my hand over your mouth?” he asked. He didn’t want her feeling bossed around.

  “Yeah. That way I didn’t have to worry about waking Kemble.” She reached down between them and touched his cock. Thank God for the condom, or he would have come right there. It was bad enough as it was. He had to last, for Kee.

  To his surprise, she pushed him over on his back and, with a wicked grin, straddled his hips. Her hair was drying a little by this point. Some strands had begun to wave down her back. Her breasts were high and full, and those nipples jutted out. He heaved a breath in as she braced one hand against his chest and felt for his cock. She lifted it up and positioned it under her. She had to feel around with the tip to find her opening. They both groaned a little.

  He was still nervous about penetrating her. “If I hurt you.…”

  “I’ll be fine,” she said firmly. “And this way I can choose the moment and be prepared.”

  Why hadn’t he thought of that? She slid down a little. She was so tight and wet. His cock sliding into her felt like she was gripping it, the muscles inside her massaging it. She pushed herself up and then slid down again. Once more, twice. He was holding his breath. Now he was up against what was left of her hymen. She just eased down with a little gasp.

  He wanted to lift her hips up, but he didn’t dare. That might hurt her worse. “You okay?”

  “Not bad.” She slid up, and then down. “Not bad at all.” She slid up and down. Her slow smile was reassuring.

  He hoped he could get her off again before he lost it. “If you kinda go back and forth as well as up and down, it’ll feel even better for you.”

  “Show me,” she commanded eagerly.

  He took her hips and lifted then brought her forward and down, buried hilt deep in her now so her mound scraped his pubic bone. She gave a little gasp. Oh, yeah. He was going to be able to make her come again. He lifted, lowered, and she began to help, catching the rhythm.

  “It’s like cantering a horse,” she breathed.

  He couldn’t help but grin.

  “If you whinny, I’ll never forgive you, Devin Tremaine,” she said in mock severity.

  “What?” he asked defensively, as though he hadn’t been thinking about doing just that.

  He could tell she was getting close. He was reduced to counting prime numbers again. So he drew her into his chest, which stilled her movement, and rolled her to her back. Supporting himself with his arms, now he drove the pace, rocking into her, which would rub her just the right way according to the book. She was giving little gasps again.

  Finally counting prime numbers wasn’t doing squat. God, he hoped she was close. He wanted to wait. Wanted to. Wait. Wait. Her nails were digging into his shoulders and nothing had ever felt so good. The instant he felt her muscles contract around him, she arched and mewled in little shrieks and he lost it, driving into her and pumping his hot streams into her. He couldn’t quite see her. He couldn’t see anything. He just heard his own rhythmic grunting and felt like his soul was being stripped out through his cock as the darkness flashed blue-green colors against his retinas. For some reason he smelled the sea. It went on and on. He and Kee seemed to be floating. He saw himself and her from above at a distance. They looked beautiful, his muscles straining, her white legs wrapped around him, arched into him with an expression of wild abandon on her face. He was separate from himself, at the same time his body was filled to overflowing, each nerve ending screaming in ecstasy.

  The sensation faded, slowly. He was back in his body only. Kee pulled him in to her breasts. He held her to his chest, rolling them to the side so he wouldn’t crush her. Then he just cradled her, kissing her damp hair. As his few remaining brain cells began to vibrate with a little more life, he wondered if it was like this for everybody. Was it because she was his soul mate that sex with her seemed transcendental?

  Oh, God. In the heat of the moment he hadn’t put his hand over her mouth. Had the bed been kinda thumping against the wall? He sure hoped Kemble was a sound sleeper. But he wasn’t going to tell Kee. Why ruin everything? She was making little, breathy sounds against his shoulder. He drew the spread up to keep the chill off her as the sweat dried from their bodies.

  After a while, she snuggled deeper into this embrace. “Some book,” she murmured. “Can you give books more than f
ive stars on Amazon?”

  “Don’t think so.” The smell of damp hair and of what they’d done together filled his nostrils. “Guess I’m gonna have to read more romances.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “Can’t you stop weather?” the old woman asked Rhiannon. The old woman didn’t like to fly, so they were driving.

  The black Mercedes limo was just turning off the 15 freeway. It had rained all the way in from Vegas. She was seated in the back with Weather Girl. Jason and Talbot, one of the new guys, sat in the seat that faced to the rear. Hardwick was driving. It should have been only four and a half or five hours at night but the rain slowed them down some.

  “No,” Rhiannon pouted. “I can draw energy to make storms, but I can’t push energy back into the atmosphere. Doesn’t work like that.”

  “Well, it should,” the old woman muttered.

  Jason was quiet, not wanting to draw attention. They’d left Phil lying on the floor of the hotel suite, barely conscious. Hardwick had called Jackie and Raffia, two of the newer converts staying in the adjacent suite, to clean him up and stand guard on him. But it wasn’t needed. Phil didn’t have anywhere else to go. None of them did. Freaks. All of them with their hearts torn apart, patched up like they were whole. But they weren’t. The old woman and her plans for them were all they had now. Even Rhiannon, Weather Bitch, needed the old woman. And if by some chance any one of them did decide to give up any chance they had at the future the old woman had planned and try to leave, she’d just hunt them down. They were tied to her now in some crazy dance of pain and possibility. They might write their own destiny someday as the ones who changed everything. Or they might just die on the way to the goal line or go crazy from trying to keep the old woman happy. But it wasn’t a matter of choice anymore. For any of them.

  “How long?” the old woman snapped.

  “Couple more hours,” Hardwick called back.

  “I booked at the Hotel Bel-Air, so you have a base of operations,” Jason said.