by Toby Neal
“I raided your sister’s room for condoms.” Elizabeth bit her pink lip, still plump from all the kissing they’d done on the stoop.
JT’s hammering heart stuttered.
He would worry about the fact that his little sister had condoms some other day.
“You’re sure?” he asked, reaching out and caressing her cheek. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch.
“Totally.” Her voice was strong but quiet. A woman who knew what she wanted . . . and that was him.
JT’s internal resistance broke.
She was still going to DC, her father was still a senator, and they’d be apart for the rest of human history.
But they had tonight.
Sliding his hand around to the back of Elizabeth’s neck and drawing her to him for a kiss, JT released all thought, concentrating purely on sensation: his, and hers. This would be her first time, and he wanted it to be good for her. He wanted her to wake up in the morning happy she’d chosen him.
She was naked under the sheet, silky and warm, smelling like strawberries and woman. His hands shook as he caressed her through the sheet. He was nervous, afraid to hurt her.
“Don’t worry,” she said, her breath against his ear. “I’m stronger than I look.”
And wasn’t that the truth. A memory of the carved marble of her face as she blew away a biker and saved his life made his blood rush faster.
Chapter Fifteen
Elizabeth
This was right where Elizabeth belonged—with JT’s big hand exploring her, only a sheet separating them. She’d never felt so brave, strong, or right in her life.
“Please . . .” JT’s voice was tight, pained. She didn’t know what he was asking for but Elizabeth wanted to give it to him. She wanted to give him everything, anything, all of her. She lowered her nose into the warm place beneath JT’s jaw and took a deep breath, drawing him in. Her eyes closed and he filled her senses.
“Yes.” Her answer as mysterious as his question.
He lifted his head, cupping her face. The electric charge of attraction radiated between their naked bodies. The street lamp outside the window filled the room with dim yellow light, making JT’s skin glow. His hair shimmered, his eyes blazed—he was the very essence of life to her.
Elizabeth was the one who closed the distance between them, pulling him up onto the bed with a handful of curls, their mouths fused as his big body pressed into her. She pushed the sheet aside and wrapped her legs around him. He was so solid, so present, the antidote she sought.
Elizabeth ran her hands over the healing wounds on his back, all the way down to his ass, knocking away the towel as she squeezed the muscular round of his buttock, pulling him into the V of her legs.
She needed him in her. Her body was pulsing, hot and slick for him ever since their make-out session on the stoop. Her mind shut down as elemental pleasure demanded its due.
He lifted above her and kissed her stomach, the inside of her thigh, straightened her leg so that he could taste the back of her knee. Elizabeth squirmed and whimpered, so ready for him.
She pulled the condom from under the pillow and held it up. The dull light filtering through the window illuminated the foil package.
JT took it from her, his eyes bold and mysterious under his lashes. He held her gaze as he ripped it open. She dropped her eyes to his groin as he lowered his hands. His deft fingers worked smoothly, placing it. Then he fisted himself, pulling it down. Her core was on fire, staring down the length of her body at him touching himself. Her inner muscles rippled and tightened at the sight.
Elizabeth burned a memory of JT’s gorgeous body and intense gaze into her brain. This. This moment was what would keep her sane as the world imploded.
He rose above her, parting her legs with his knee, clasping her gently and carefully by the hips, at her entrance. He leaned over her, kissing her deeply, his hand at the back of her head, supporting her as he slowly, ever so gently began to ease into her.
What a strange and erotic sensation.
His kiss deepened as she opened to him, spreading her legs wider, relaxing around him.
She gasped and he paused.
“Are you okay?” JT’s voice was tight, and his eyes searched her face as he leaned over her on arms trembling with the strain of holding back. Those curls she loved tumbled forward, creating a curtain around them, walling them off from the rest of the world. It was just the two of them—and if only they could stay here forever.
“I’m perfect.”
He smiled and began his slow assault again, his eyes holding hers. This was hard for him—to go so slow, so carefully. She could see in the sharp lines of his muscles that he was holding himself back, concentrating on making her comfortable, easing her into this new and fulfilling experience.
Elizabeth’s heart squeezed with gratitude. She was meant to be here with JT. This was destiny. Elizabeth closed her eyes and blinked back tears.
JT’s thumb swiped one away. “E?”
She shook her head. “I’m just . . . I’m so happy.”
He lost it, kissing her harder, pushing fully into her. Elizabeth cried out, arching off the bed beneath him, and he paused. She grabbed him again by the buttock, pulling him deeper. “Please,” she gasped, voice tight. “Just do it.”
He moved then, slowly, heavily, inside and outside. He filled every empty space, driving her deep into the mattress.
Elizabeth melted around him, loosening, opening, boneless, depthless . . . and hungry for more.
JT was still holding back.
She bit into his shoulder and linked her ankles at his lower back.
“You feel so good.” He spoke through clenched teeth. “But I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You’d never hurt me. I want you.”
JT growled and rose to his knees, lifting her by the hips. His curly black hair swung every time he surged into her, and his eyes held hers in overwhelming intimacy. JT was magnificent above her, every muscle tight and etched in sharp relief. She loved the contrast of their bodies: her slender whiteness against his rich olive-tanned bulk. His heaving breaths matched hers, and his big calloused hands gripped her hips hard enough to leave bruises, yet gentle enough for her to feel utterly safe.
Elizabeth bit her lip as a deep moan spilled out of her. The orgasm she desperately needed spiraled from her center, blooming a release of tension. She spasmed helplessly around the hardness filling her.
She loved it all. She loved him.
JT’s powerful arms tightened, his abs ridged, his head fell back, throat flexing, as he buried himself to the hilt and came with a ruptured cry. She gazed at him, feeding her soul on the visual feast of their passion.
JT fell forward, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her against his chest, still sheathed inside her. She ran her hands through his damp hair and kissed his forehead.
He raised his head, looking up at her. “Are you okay?”
She laughed, light and full, happy and free. “I’m so much better than okay.”
He grinned. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.”
“Me too.” She ran a hand over his cheek, flushed with exertion, soft and rough—perfect in every way. JT leaned down and drew her nipple into his mouth, making her squeak as he gently withdrew from her body.
JT rose in a fluid motion, leaving her feeling bereft as he wrapped his towel around his hips and tiptoed down the hall to the bathroom. She heard the running of water, the flush of the toilet as he dealt with the condom. Elizabeth curled up in the nest of sheets, savoring the smells and sensations still rippling along her nerve endings.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry,” JT whispered from the doorway. “I’ll go downstairs and make us something to eat. Hopefully we didn’t wake the house.”
Elizabeth put her hands over her hot cheeks. “Oh my goodness.”
“Don’t worry. They won’t say anything. Well, maybe Lucy will.” JT winked at her. Winked! Then h
e headed downstairs.
Elizabeth got up and went to the shower. Under the flow of water, rinsing her newly-awakened body, she savored the twinges and aches of muscles and tissues that had never been used before.
Back in the bedroom, she pulled on the second pair of sweats she’d fixed, already washed and dried by his thoughtful and efficient mother—even in tragedy, making her guest feel cherished and welcome.
That wouldn’t have happened in her own home in a situation like this. Though her mother might have had the maid take the clothes to be “dealt with,” she certainly wouldn’t have washed them herself.
JT returned, still just wearing the towel. She’d never get tired of looking at him: the rack of his work-hardened shoulders, the span of his back, still stippled with scabs from saving her life, his long and sculpted legs. How had she got lucky enough to have her plane crash in his potato field?
He carried a big white china plate that emitted delicious smells from the hoagies on it. “I was able to heat up some meatballs for filling the sandwiches.”
Elizabeth’s hoagie was huge. She sat cross-legged and opened her mouth wide, surprised to find she was starving. She caught JT’s amused gaze on her as she managed to get her mouth around it.
“What?” she muttered, muffled by the mouthful of deliciousness distending her cheeks. “This is so good. I thought I’d had a hoagie before, but this . . .”
“We Italians are all about the food.” He tore into his sandwich, devouring it in the time it took for her to make it through half of hers.
“So good. These spices. The meat, the bread, the sauce . . . your mom is a witch, casting spells in the kitchen.”
“Una strega. She is a little bit that—but my grandmother was even more so.”
Elizabeth, full, set the remains of her sandwich down on the plate. JT took it from her and set it on the floor.
“You have a spot. Right here.” JT swiped her cheek with his thumb then sucked on it, his eyes intense on hers.
Heat bloomed deep inside.
“Oh, and there’s a bit more, here.” He moved into her space, his warm tongue licking the edge of her lips.
Elizabeth made a tiny, hungry sound. He took her face in his hands, kissing her slow and deep.
“I love those little noises you make.” He nuzzled her ear.
Elizabeth whimpered. “Can we? Again?” She asked, her voice small and unsure.
JT’s breath caught. “Are you sore?”
“Yes. But I want to—again.”
“Your wish is my command.”
Elizabeth had never known that a breath on the back of her knees could make every hair on her body rise on end. The way his tongue danced, the sensation of beard stubble on her breasts, unbearably erotic.
She could control a huge, strapping man with the touch of her pinkie on his nipple.
The spot at the base of JT’s throat, that nook between his winged collarbones, smelled like sandalwood.
Kisses up her spine made her wriggle and squirm, and the soreness between her thighs was quickly forgotten in the ecstasy of new discovery.
Finally, exhausted and sated, clean and full, they curled together in the twin bed, unwilling to be parted even for a moment.
JT slept, and Elizabeth watched him.
The yellow streetlight and the pale moon striped his magnificent torso with gold and silver. The tension was gone from his beautiful face. His long, thick lashes made shadows on his high cheekbones.
She loved him. Whatever choice there might have been about that before was gone now, obliterated in the sweet rough craziness of the last few hours.
How could she leave him in DC?
She had to. The cells still needed to get there but maybe—he hadn’t asked her to come to the Haven, had never suggested that she would leave with him after dropping off the cells. That was fine. JT had been clear that his heart belonged to another woman and their child. Thinking about his wife and daughter made her throat tighten with new tears.
Elizabeth sighed and let her hand wander over his abs, her fingers tickled by the soft hair. She should be with her parents anyway—they needed her, and the CDC would too.
Whatever happened, at least they’d had tonight. Elizabeth would cherish it always.
An odd pop came from the window—and the streetlight went out. So did every other light source but the moon.
Chapter Sixteen
JT
JT stretched out and his feet touched the end of the iron bedframe, waking him. He reached for Elizabeth, but she was gone, and he lifted his head, searching for her.
He heard the light sound of her voice, his sister’s giggle, his mother’s deeper, more deliberate tone. She was downstairs.
He hoped like hell Lucy and Ana weren’t giving Elizabeth a hard time about their goings-on last night. It seemed unlikely, but still . . .
Lots of sounds came upstairs from below—they were cooking, probably taking food to some wakes. That trend wasn’t going to end soon. Mama would do better to save her food for when things ran short, as they were bound to do, and sooner rather than later.
JT wasn’t ready to get up, to face the day and all the trials it held. He wanted to hold onto how good he felt, how the tangled sheets of his childhood bed smelled of him and E. He threw an arm over his eyes, remembering how she looked beneath him, how she felt, that she gave herself to him—gifting her innocence to JT had made him feel like he could slay any dragon.
Remembering her soft cries stirred him again. Damn, the girl was fine.
He flung the covers off, missing her, a sharp sensation of loss that reminded him of all of his other losses. Nando.
His brother was gone.
He couldn’t lose Elizabeth too. How was he going to let her go once they got to DC? She comforted him, made him feel alive again. He got up, hauled on jeans and a shirt, and hurried down the stairs, hoping to catch Elizabeth for a kiss goodbye.
But she and Lucy had already gone.
His mother was in the kitchen, wiping down the stove. She looked shrunken, even smaller than her height of five feet two. Her long black hair with its silver ribbons of gray was wound into a roll. She wore trim dark jeans and a T-shirt with Born to Cook emblazoned across the front.
He came up behind her, put his hands on her shoulders, kissed the cheek she turned up to him. “Mama. Smells good in here.”
“I just made eggplant parmesan. I know it’s breakfast but there’s a pan still hot.”
“Perfect.” JT went to the large rectangular casserole dish and helped himself to a slab. “Where’d the girls go?”
“You remember Peggy Baldini? Well, she died. And Phil DeAntonio died two days ago. I got a lot of dishes to make. It’s a good thing we have a gas oven, because the electric’s out.” Mama scrubbed vigorously at a bit of tomato sauce. “Peggy’s mama is Paulie’s cousin, you remember?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry. This sickness—it’s out of control.” The big bite of savory eggplant parmesan turned to dust in his mouth. “You should be saving your food, Mama. You can’t keep cooking for the neighborhood. What happens when the gas goes?”
Mama spun to confront him, hazel eyes wide. “Spoken like the boy with the Sight, who knew something was coming, and instead of helping his family or the world, went off to Idaho to live in the woods!”
JT put down his fork, stunned by her words. “I was trying to build a safe place for us, Mama. For all of us! But none of you would so much as visit me.” He stood, reaching for her hands. “Come with me, Mama. Please. You can have a huge garden; you can feed the whole village of North Fork if you like.”
“This neighborhood is my home! My friends are here; our family is here! Paulie is buried here, and so is my Nando!” Her voice cracked like a rib piercing JT’s heart.
“I bought the Haven for all of us, because I did see it coming—not this specifically, but something big, something bad. If you won’t come, it’s all in vain.”
Mama pulled her hands free of his
and placed them on her hips.
“What about that girl?” Her voice was steady again, heading toward angry. “You just like her?”
JT frowned. “Don’t worry about her, Mama.”
“Don’t worry!” His mother stepped forward so JT stepped back. “You’re taking her to DC to get those cells to the scientists, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“So I guess I have to worry about you. And her. Sounded to me last night like you meant to make her family.”
JT skin went instantly hot. He couldn’t believe she was calling him on the noise. “I’m sorry about that, but . . .”
“But nothing,” she waved a hand at him. “I’m sure Mary would approve. You’ve been alone too long as it is.” The name of his lost wife cracked the fragile bubble of happiness he had created with Elizabeth last night. Their relationship could never go anywhere.
“I’m taking her to DC but I’ll be back soon. I want you, Lucy, Avital, and Dolf to come back to the Haven with me. Cash and Dante are already headed there.”
For the first time Ana seemed marginally interested. “Cash and Dante are going to your place?”
“Yeah. California’s already bad. Dante is even bringing Elizabeth’s friend. Please, consider it.”
Ana turned back to the stove. “I’ll think about it.”
JT sat back down and took another bite of the eggplant parm, his spirits rising again. The front door opened and Lucy walked in. His sister, usually so energetic and lively, looked wilted. Her curly hair was bedraggled, her simple black dress rumpled.
Elizabeth entered behind Lucy, squatting to remove Pinocchio’s leash. She wore the blue dress she’d had on the day before, her slim figure lost in its folds, but her smooth and shapely legs hinted at the body beneath. He knew that body now. He’d taken his time, exploring her, figuring out how to elicit those gasps and squeaks he liked so much.
She looked up, and as their eyes met, that familiar charge arced between them—but it was different now. More powerful. It took all his willpower not to just grab her, throw her over his shoulder and hike the stairs to his childhood bedroom.