Dream Shard (8 page)

Is he as turned on as I am?

He tightened the grip on her hip, pulling her back as he stepped forward. He slid his other arm around her waist, binding her against him and letting her feel the unmistakable shape of his erection.

“Does that answer your question?”

She shuddered. His breath teased the delicate skin of the side of her neck. She leaned her head back, unable to resist the temptation. He sucked in his breath in response.

“It’s really unfair the way you can hear my thoughts but I don’t get to hear yours.”

He placed a kiss against her neck. One soft compression that set her entire system off. She had never been so aware of a man or held in the grip of such acute anticipation.

“You connect far better than most.” He slid his hand up her body to where her shirt ended so he might stroke the bare skin of her neck. “It’s because you’re not afraid of me.”

He smoothed his hand all the way up to her chin. By doing so, he tipped her head onto his shoulder. His fingertips were hot and smooth against her skin.

“I should be scared of you.” She drew in a deep breath and stepped forward into the dark cavern of the motorhome. “But I’m more afraid of losing the opportunity to begin living again.”

A tiny light came on behind her. Devon had a lighter, its flame amazingly brilliant in contrast to the darkness.

“I think I understand that feeling.”

He moved past her and opened the bathroom door. He reached up and turned on the small light above the vanity mirror. “We’ll have to keep the light level low. Just in case any of the local beat cops do any patrols.”

He tucked the lighter back into one of the multiple pockets on his vest. But the light spilled out of the bathroom to give her a view of the inside of the motorhome.

“Wow…very nice.”

There was marble on the floor and leather furniture. A flat screen was on one wall and there was even a small electric hearth. A full kitchen was next, filled with all the modern conveniences.

“I’ll see what sort of grub there is.” Devon stepped out of the bathroom. “The water will be cold but the shower should work.”

“If there is a bar of soap, I’m content.”

He cut her an amused glance. “Let’s see if you can keep that upbeat attitude when your nipples are hard.”

She stuck her tongue out at him and closed the bathroom door. She heard him chuckling and wrinkled her nose for good measure. The bathroom was quite spacious. The shower had plenty of room. More importantly, there was a cabinet that yielded soap, shampoo and even conditioner.

She peeled her clothes off and stepped into the shower with a sigh. She gasped when the water hit her skin, gaining a suspicious sound from the other side of the door. Her nipples puckered instantly, giving her a burst of temper that helped her make it through the frigid shower.

It was worth it to be clean. She rinsed her hair twice before wrapping a towel around herself and returning to the vanity to scrounge for a toothbrush. Her dirty clothes were less than appealing but there was no clothing in the bathroom.

He’s already seen everything you have.

She double checked the tuck that was keeping the towel closed around her body before opening the door. The moment she did, the scent of hot food made her mouth water.

“I don’t care if that’s Spam and beans, you’re a god for cooking it.”

He gave the pan a toss, the contents turning with the expert motion of his wrist. The only light came from the lighter sitting on the counter by the range.

“Mind you, I’m hungry enough for cold Spam right now.”

He slid the contents of the pan onto a plate and set it on the table. Silverware and a glass of water were already waiting for her.

“Wow.” She sat and reached for the fork. “I might even forgive you for laughing at me.”

“I doubt it,” he accused before turning and walking into the bathroom.

Once the door was shut, she had only the single flame from the lighter to keep her company. The flickering light cast a spell over the moment. Making it seem more intimate.

Of course, wearing only a towel added to it.

Still, she dug into her supper and hummed as she tasted it. She’d had worse dates.

This is not a date!

No. It was a matter of life and death, but she’d lost the will to continue to stress over it. If this was Stockholm syndrome, she had it bad. She trusted Devon and that was a fact.

You crave him.

That too, but she shied away from thinking too deeply about just where their relationship was heading. She was far too practical to believe he was the staying sort of guy. He had dark-shadow man written all over him.

Psychic Operatives didn’t have relationships.

But there had been Heather.

She pondered that fact for a moment before scraping up the last bite of her supper and getting up. What she needed to do was get her mind wrapped around the first day she’d met Devon Ross. Without his memory, he wasn’t burdened by whatever commitments he’d made. Reality would rush back in the moment his brain decided to loosen its hold on the past.

If she were smart, she’d sneak out and find a phone to call 911.

But that felt like a betrayal.

She picked up the lighter and used it to light the way into the bedroom. The closet was filled with several options of clothing. She pulled the towel loose and reached for a flannel shirt.

“You’re right, I would have felt betrayed.”

He’d turned the bathroom light off so she wouldn’t notice him opening the door. The lighter’s flame cast a ruby glow over his wet skin.

All of it.

Her breath froze in her lungs and her mind just went blank. Heat was building inside her and she realized that it was partially because his thoughts were flowing directly into her head.

“This is a bad idea.” Her tongue felt like a foreign object in her mouth. It didn’t want to discuss anything.

He was leaning against the door frame, filling it completely. He raised a dark eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest, making the muscles bulge. She focused on his biceps, ordering herself to keep her gaze off his lower body.

“You’re as turned on as I am, Kalin.”

She swallowed, trying to gain some measure of composure. Reining in her desire was one thing, but she could feel his, and the pull was just too much.

“Go on,” he ground out, his tone suddenly hard. “Say it isn’t natural to have me inside your head. Admit that’s the problem.”

“The problem is I’ve known you for three days. Stop trying to push me into the category of psychic hater. I’m a Miwok Native American. My parents didn’t teach me to hide in the closet every time nature moved around me.”

His lips curled in a sensual way. It was bluntly sexual and all she wanted to do was let him taste her in any way he wished.

“I hear your thoughts.” He straightened and moved toward her. “Every emotion comes into my head like you spoke out loud. There is no taking you on a few dates to see if you like me or trust me, I know you do.”

“But you don’t know who you are,” she said, offering her last argument. Her clit was throbbing with need, her belly twisting with anticipation. “This could hurt someone.”

He stopped so close to her she had to look up to make eye contact. When she did, her mind flooded with the passion burning inside of him.

“I’m alone, and you’re far more unique than you think in accepting what I am.”

The desire ebbed and in its place was a sense of loneliness that made her heart ache. The feeling that no one understood how he felt was something she felt a deep kinship with. Maybe it wasn’t logical, but in that moment, reaching for him felt completely right.

He met her halfway, cradling her head in one large hand. The kiss was hard and seeking and she didn’t disappoint him. She kissed him back, opening her mouth when he licked along her lower lip in suggestion. She shuddered, the first invasion feeling like a milestone. It was a surrender, but she really wasn’t sure if it was to her will or his. Only that she’d never felt so intimate with another man.

He stroked her. Cupped her hips and pulled his hands up the sides of her bare body in long strokes that made her knees go weak. Her breasts tingled, yearning for their turn, and he didn’t disappoint her.

“I love your curves,” he muttered as he cupped each globe. He brushed his thumb across each nipple and they puckered even tighter.

“Wonderful little handfuls.”

“
Little
isn’t the right word.”

He kneaded them softly, setting off a pulsing inside her passage that was driving her insane. She wanted to resist the need to rush, but feeling his reactions was making it impossible.

“Don’t fall into that trap.” He reached over and tore the bedspread back. “Don’t let some Hollywood director make you think your body isn’t beautiful. It’s ravishing.”

He backed up and reached for the lighter, but he didn’t extinguish it immediately. Instead, he took a moment to look at her, and when he returned his gaze to hers, she felt his appreciation through the link. Tears prickled her eyes.

“Look at me.”

Her lower lip went dry and she licked it. His gaze focused on the tip of her tongue and he drew in a deep breath.

“Look at me,” he repeated in a hard tone. “I want to feel your reaction.”

She felt like she was being asked to wave a flag in front of a bull.

But it was too damn erotic to not try.

Anticipation drew her body tight, making time seem like it was creeping by. She broke eye contact and let her gaze slip down his face, to his neck and then the solid muscles of his chest. He had a light dusting of dark hair that ended near his trim waist. All six ridges of his abdominal muscles were visible.

But his cock stopped her completely.

It was thick and long. Bigger than she could recall any of her other partners, and it stood ramrod straight. She wasn’t sure when she decided to reach for it, but she did, stretching out her fingers to make contact. It was silky smooth and hot. She reached lower and stroked the entire length as he pulled in a harsh breath.

A sense of accomplishment filled her, a moment of enjoyment over being able to affect him with her touch. It stoked her confidence, encouraging her to be bolder. She closed her fingers around his girth and pulled her hand up to the crown.

He cupped her chin, raising her face so that he could lock eyes with her. The moment they did, she gasped at the sheer intensity of the need boiling inside him. It was thick and turbulent, like a windstorm.

But she didn’t care. She stroked him again and teased the slit on the top of the head when she reached it. His pupils dilated, and this time it had nothing to do with the supernatural. It was need, hot and pulsing desire to get inside her.

A need she shared.

He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off her feet. A moment later, the bed rocked as she landed on it. She should have felt awkward, like she always had during sex, but opening her thighs felt more natural than anything else. Devon followed her down, pressing her legs farther apart as his heat covered her.

She trembled, the first touch of his cock sending her body into a spasm. She felt him tense, heard him suck in a harsh breath through his gritted teeth.

“I’m moving too fast.” He grunted before rising up.

“No.” The word just rushed out of her mouth. It was more of a feeling than a word, something spilling out of her subconscious and all the need boiling inside her. She reached for him, grabbed his shoulders.

She didn’t have the strength to pull him back. He met her eyes and sifted through her thoughts for a moment. What surprised her was the indecision she felt inside him. His lust was burning as hot as her own, but he held back out of concern for her.

“It’s just…a little intense,” she offered.

He lowered himself and angled his head to the side to press a kiss against her throat. She stretched her neck out, offering him more skin. He curled back his lips and bit her gently, the tiny pain mixing with the need to form a potent combination.

“It’s majorly, mind-numbingly intense,” he whispered next to her ear. “That’s the best part.”

She let her eyes close, willingly sinking into the swirling need intoxicating her. He was all she needed, all she craved at that moment. She clasped his hips and tried to pull him closer.

“Next time, we’ll go slower,” he growled before pressing against her.

Her sex was slick, the folds covering her passage parting easily to admit him. But his cock stretched her as he penetrated, the small pain making its way to her brain. But it wasn’t enough to deter her. She craved him. Needed release from the hunger gnawing at her. He started to pause, reading her thoughts, but she didn’t think she could stand another interruption. Everything inside her was urging her to rush full force into the moment.

She lifted her hips, sending him deeper into her body. He snarled softly at her but she bared her teeth in rebellion.

He chuckled softly. “You’re stronger than you let on, Kalin.”

He pulled back and thrust forward, this time penetrating completely. Her eyes closed, the sensation taking complete control of her. There wasn’t any desire to think, only the need to respond.

“I’m in complete agreement,” he growled, rocking the bed as he began to move. She strained to meet each thrust and his lips curled back as he tried to fight the urge to move faster. She felt the battle, the fight inside him against the savage need to pound his way to release. It was primitive and raw, driving up the intensity to a level that she didn’t think she could withstand.

But there was no way to hold it back. She’d lost that battle just as completely as he had. They were locked together in the moment, striving toward release as their bodies demanded satisfaction. When it came, it was like a massive wave breaking over her. There was pressure and release so great, she cried out. The pleasure rushed through her, covering every last inch of her flesh before dropping her like a stunned fish on the shore.

Devon waited only a moment longer before relinquishing his fight to hold back. A second after she cried out, he shouted with his release, his body arching back, every muscle tight enough to snap. He collapsed on top of her, using the last of his strength to roll over and spare her his crushing weight. She was grateful he had the strength, because she didn’t think she could move except to pull rapid breaths into her starving lungs. Her heart was racing at a frantic pace, driving her blood at breakneck speed through her body.