Dangerous Tides (44 page)

Tyson caught her arm to lift her to her feet, enfolding her close to him. "That was an incredibly selfless act, Libby."

She laughed. "Silly. It was selfish. I
loved
it." Her hand stroked down his chest, rested a little possessively on his shaft. "I'm very good at the things I love."

He swooped her up to hold her against his chest. "We actually have a bed. Since we've never tried one, I thought it might be a good idea."

The bedrooms were on the lower floor and he carried her down the spiral staircase. Not once did he turn on a light, but seemed to know his way through the house to the master bedroom. He laid Libby on the bed. "I finally had the electricity turned on, but I'd rather use candles."

She caught his arm. "I'll light them." Libby cupped her hands around her lips and blew softly toward the wick. A small flame flickered and she waved, creating a slight stir in the air. At once the candle sprang to life.

"Okay, that's very handy. Can you teach me how to do it?"

Libby laid back, her hair spilling across the pillow, without a stitch on, wondering how she could feel so completely at ease with him. "I wouldn't know how to teach it. I think we're just born able to do certain things."

He stretched out beside her, slightly on his side, head propped up with his hand. "Will our children be able to do that?"

Libby shook her head. "Nope, not like we have it. Elle's children will."

"What if something happened and Elle couldn't have children, would the magic just die out?" He dipped his head to flick her taut nipple with his tongue, drawing a quick inhale from her. "Because that would be a shame."

Libby smiled. He was talking, but he had that look on his face of utter concentration and he seemed far more interested in her body than the conversation. Even his voice was beginning to fade and that was all right with her. Every cell in her body was alive and pulsing with need. She was acutely aware of his fingers splayed wide on her belly and the brush of his hair against her breast. Every curl of his tongue sent heat radiating through her straight to the welcoming dampness between her legs. Libby wrapped her arms around him, holding his head to her, giving herself up to the slow leisurely pace he set as he explored her body.

"I love this little ridge right here, your hip bone." He rubbed the pads of his fingers over the bone. "Do you know how often I'd find myself staring at your hips and imagining myself lying just like this, your legs open and my face buried between them? I wanted to taste you so bad, Libby. I'd go to bed thinking about you and wake up with such a hard-on thought I'd explode. I still can't believe you're here with me."

She tugged hard on his hair until he yelped. "I'm here, but I can't believe you were having erotic fantasies about me. I certainly never thought of myself as sexy and I never would have guessed you were looking at me that way."

Tyson retaliated by nipping the inside of her thigh. "I was looking at you. I realized somewhere in the second year of college that I was fixating on you. I didn't want to be a stalker—even in mind only—so I forced myself to stay away."

"Come here." She crooked her finger at him again.

"Where?"

"Right here." She patted her belly and widened her legs to accommodate his larger frame.

Tyson lifted his body over hers and settled down on her like a blanket, sliding his body deep inside hers. "You feel so good." It was an understatement, but it was the best he could do under the circumstances. His brain was malfunctioning again, wires crossing and electricity arcing so that every circuit was fried. And it was perfectly okay with him.

He began to move, long, slow strokes, watching her face closely to see her reaction to every pressure, every caress. He wanted to know her body, know what made her gasp, what forced those small moans from her throat and especially what had her bucking her hips and crying his name.

In the end, when she was nearly sobbing and he could no longer remember his own name, he allowed them both release, taking them over the edge so that they clung to one another, barely able to move.

Libby felt like spaghetti, so relaxed she wasn't certain she could make her way to the shower. She lay beneath him, holding him to her. "I love you, Tyson Derrick. I love you more than you'll ever know."

He kept his face buried in the softness of her neck, struggling to keep the tears burning behind his eyelids from being shed. Why did she have to go and say things like that when he had no idea how to respond? He tried to think back over his life, to remember if and when someone had said they loved him. "My Aunt Ida."

"What?"

"She said it to me once when I was very ill. I remember she came to my room and sat with me because my fever was so high. She told me she loved me."

"Of course she loved you. She left you a share of the house. She wouldn't have done that if she didn't think of you as her son."

"You're good for me, Libby."

"Silly man. I know that. I'm going to take a shower."

"I forgot we'd need towels."

She laughed as he eased his body away from hers. "You remembered candles but forgot the towels. I guess you hit all the essentials. I'll just drip dry."

"I'll be happy to lick the water off of you."

"Thank you. I may take you up on that." Libby slid off the bed and made her way to the large bathroom with the double shower and the glass doors. "Whoever built this house wasn't in the least bit modest, was he?"

She didn't wait for Tyson's answer, but stepped beneath the spray of water, allowing it to run over her skin like a downpour of rain. Even something so simple as a shower felt sensual. Tyson had changed her entire world, especially how she felt about herself. She rinsed her hair and wrung it out as best she could.

"I'm going to need a sheet," she announced as she returned.

"I thought I was going to be your towel."

"Take a shower, crazy man."

Libby laid down on the cool sheets and let the air dry her body as she listened to Tyson whistling in the shower. He was happy. She knew he was happy and she'd contributed to that, to making him feel loved and wanted. There was satisfaction in that knowledge.

She let herself drift on a tide of elation waiting for his return. She was nearly asleep when he came back, droplets of water running down his skin.

"Do you mind if I pull the drapes back?" Tyson asked, padding across the floor on bare feet. "I love looking out at the ocean."

Libby propped her head up on one hand. His thoughtfulness on asking her only made her love him more. "I definitely don't feel anyone hanging around the house. By all means, open the drapes." He looked delicious standing by the window with his hair slicked back and the small beads of water running into intriguing places.

The view of the shimmering sea was extraordinary. The moon was nearly full and spilled light across the water making it sparkle like a thousand gems.

"Look at the ocean, baby," Tyson said, opening the wide sliding glass door so the cool night breeze swept into the room. "The moon has such an amazing effect on the water. Do you realize that the sun has only a forty-six percent gravitational force on the earth? That makes the moon the single most important factor for creating tides."

He turned his head to look at her as she sat up, pushing her midnight black hair from around her face. There in the moonlight she looked otherworldly, a little fey, a little bit witch with her enormous eyes, generous mouth and pale skin.

Libby smiled at him. "The earth and the moon are attracted to one another, like magnets. The moon tries to pull everything on earth to bring it closer, but the earth is able to hold onto everything but water."

He walked back to her and bent down to kiss her temple before seating himself on the bed beside her, staring out the window. "Water is constantly moving so the earth can't hold onto it." He wrapped his arm around her. "I'm going to hold you still so there's no chance the moon will make a grab for you." He pretended to frown. "You don't fly on a broomstick across the moon, do you?"

She kept a straight face. "That requires levitation and only Hannah is really adept at that, although Joley might be as well."

He yanked his arm away, narrowing his eyes, studying her face. "You're lying through your teeth."

"Am I?"

"Why would anyone fly around the moon anyway?" he challenged.

She shrugged casually. "To make certain the tides are behaving the way they should. That's a witch's job, you know."

A small smile flirted with his mouth. "And all this time I thought the full moon caused those high and low tides and the quarter moons rendered the tides less dramatic."

"Did you learn all that in science class? We were already busy making certain the sun and moon lined up for the strong gravitational pull. It was all the Drake sisters." She leaned close to him to rub her face over his shoulder, wanting the skin to skin contact. Her tongue darted out and she caught several drops of water in her mouth. "In case you didn't know, we have a symbiotic relationship with the moon and the sun."

"I'm just learning so much tonight. It must be like the clown fish and the sea anemone—a very dangerous relationship."

She nodded seriously.

His grin turned mischievous and his eyebrow went up, alerting her to a possible trap. "You're aware the clown fish is covered in a slimy mucus and if the mucus gets wiped off before the clown fish returns to the host anemone it will be stung or even killed by the anemone's tentacles. I can't imagine you slimy, but I'm willing to try a little olive oil." He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

"Aw, but then you have it all wrong. We, meaning the Drake sisters, represent the anemone with the tentacles. We send the clown fish out with his bright colors to attract unsuspecting prey." Her hand slid over his bare chest and dropped to his flat stomach where her fingertips began to walk lower. "The clown fish lures our prey back to us and we strike with our tentacles." Her fingers brushed his shaft, stroked teasingly. "We kill and eat our fill and the poor clown fish gets our leftovers. I do so love a symbiotic relationship." She bent her head to flick, first his nipples with her tongue, then his belly button. Her hair slid over his most sensitive parts and in spite of everything he felt himself stirring again.

"I can imagine you with all kinds of tentacles." His cock jerked as her breath bathed him in warmth. "Poor unsuspecting fish."

She laughed and sat back up. "It gets worse. The clown fish not only feeds on plankton crustaceans and algae that live and grow in the reef, but also eats away debris and nibbles off the dead tentacles of the host anemone."

"I'm sure as hell not going to be the clown fish, especially if he eats dead tentacles and algae. If it wasn't for marine algae, we wouldn't be able to breathe."

"And you think the poor clown fish is devouring it at an enormous rate, threatening the oxygen in the world?" Her tone was innocent, but the mouth engulfing his shaft was sinful and greedy with passionate teasing.

Tyson looked down at her head in his lap and realized he'd never recognized the fun of teasing, sexually or otherwise. It was one of the things that had left him so socially inept. But here he was, flames licking over his skin and streaking through his bloodstream, and he had a big smile not only on his face, but also deep inside where he'd never looked before because it had always been too damned painful.

He found himself struggling to draw air into his lungs and it made him laugh. "See? The clown fish is a definite threat. I can't breathe."

Her tongue swirled and she sat up again, her grin smug. "Poor baby. Never think you can win a discussion with a Drake."

"That's because you cheat." He wrapped his hand around the nape of her neck and tugged in an effort to urge her back to his lap.

Libby resisted. "I'm breathing here, buddy." She waved her arm toward the ocean. "Marine plants and algae provide much of the world's oxygen supply and take in huge amounts of carbon dioxide. With the clown fish disturbing the natural balance, I can't breathe." She pretended to choke, falling slightly forward, allowing his hand to guide her head to his hardening erection.

"You can't possibly be serious. Men aren't supposed to be able to have multiple orgasms. At least not this many." She licked the water from him.

"Are you certain? I wouldn't want to injure anything valuable."

He was already hard as a rock and with her teasing breath and lapping tongue gliding over him and the sound of the ocean in the background, he felt entirely at peace. He closed his eyes, savoring the moment, the absolute feeling of being loved and accepted, of being the object of Libby's pleasure.

His hands tangled in her hair and he tugged until she brought her head up, her sparkling gaze meeting his much more serious one. "Libby. I need to tell you…" He choked, just the way he knew he would. He never realized he was an emotional man, but she sat there with her damp hair spilling around her and her eyes so expressive with her feelings and he felt like a fool trying to find the right words to describe a feeling so big, so intense, nothing could really describe it.

Libby wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned against him, her lips moving over his throat and chin. "I'm an empath, Ty."

"Thank God, because I swear I want you to feel what's inside of me."

"You need sleep. You never seem to sleep."

"That's because you have the most beautiful mouth on the face of the planet."

"Maybe so, but I'm going to make certain you eat and sleep properly, Ty, even when you're working."

"Did you know that if you get the recommended eight hours of sleep a night, that in one year you'll have slept away over two thousand nine hundred hours."

Libby made a face at him as she slid down in the bed and patted the sheet next to her. "Lie down."

Tyson did so, turning to hold her in his arms. His mind was racing, first with thoughts of her, of how much she meant to him, how much she'd changed his life, changed
him
. From there it went to how her family had accepted him, how he was learning to laugh and tease. He might never be social, but he would have his moments and he certainly would always enjoy the banter between Libby and her sisters, especially if he were included.