Ember's Kiss (7 page)

Liz smiled, knowing who had come to find her.

And honest enough with herself to be glad.

Who said wishes didn't come true?

When she looked up from the radiance, Brandon had stopped in the path, as if waiting for an invitation or an acknowledgment. The moonlight and the sparks between them made anything seem possible.

Even a happy future with her returned powers.

Brandon raised a hand and saluted her, a spark flying from his fingertips to collide with her own.

“Want to go for a walk?” he asked, his tone soft and teasing. He did have an accent, and she was sure it was Australian.

Liz smiled at him. His appearance when she'd been
thinking of him, the steady indigo radiance of his aura, and her own reaction to him made it easy to forget the glimpse she'd had of him in that dust. It made it easy to dismiss her earlier trepidation.

He was just a man, a gorgeous man who wanted her.

This was the chance she'd wanted to have.

And she wasn't going to let it slip away.

She opened the door wider and walked toward him, giving him a moment to look. The lace top of this nightgown left very little to the imagination, and she was glad she'd chosen to wear it. She felt powerful and sexy, glittering with allure. She felt beautiful. The sparks between them burned more brightly, turning from orange to yellow, then sparking off Brandon. The light in his eyes told her that he liked what he saw.

She was amazed when the glow between them lit to paler yellow. It would be a white-hot fire soon, and she wouldn't be able to stand it. Already her knees and her resistance to him were dissolving. Her skin was tingling, and her body was pulsing with desire. She was warm despite the breeze, and wide-awake.

“No, I want another kiss instead.” Her voice sounded huskier than usual, and he smiled. Liz stopped in front of him, watching that golden radiance grow so bright that it pushed aside the light of the moon. She frowned at it, unfamiliar with the specific magic that would cause such an effect. Was this a new manifestation of her own powers? Or had Brandon caused it? “What is this? Do you know?”

Brandon grinned and reached for her hand. His touch was warm, the feel of his skin against hers making Liz's mouth go dry. He laced their fingers together, holding their palms an inch apart. A golden light shone there, shining so vividly that Liz could hardly look at it. “Destiny,” he said with complete conviction. “A sign that we were meant to be together.”

Liz smiled despite herself. “Tonight?”

Brandon was completely serious, his gaze intent. “Longer than that. For good. It's a sign that we were meant for each other, that this was meant to be.”

Liz had to indulge her scientific skepticism. “Maureen could have chosen another restaurant. Then what?”

“Then my friends would have, too. It was fate that we'd meet tonight, Liz.” He was so certain of it that Liz wanted to believe it, too. “And that's bigger and stronger than either of us.”

“You can't believe that,” Liz protested, even though she loved the romance of the idea and wished it could be true. Once upon a time, she'd believed in destiny and karma and the overwhelming power of good.

“I do.” His conviction tempted Liz to take another step closer.

“But we can't know already that there's anything permanent in this,” she protested, the conviction fading from her words. “We don't even know each other.”

Brandon tightened his grip on her hand, looking so determined that it sent a shiver through her. “No, we can't know that, not by ourselves. That's why we have to trust the flame of the firestorm.” His smile was confident,
his gaze so unswerving that Liz chose to believe. “The firestorm knows, and I believe.”

The firestorm. It was the perfect name for this sizzling lust that had filled her body at the sight of him, the perfect term for the overwhelming tide of desire that distracted her from everything other than Brandon.

Maybe it was Hawai‘ian magic. It was certainly Brandon's magic. Liz could dig up the details later. She didn't want to lose the mood of the moment, not when those flames were licking and dancing and driving her crazy, not when they were lighting Brandon's face so he looked golden and powerful.

“Is the firestorm always right?” she asked. She put her other hand on his chest, smiling at the flurry of sparks that exploded from the point of contact.

“Every time,” he vowed, his other arm sliding around her waist to pull her closer. “A force of nature can't lie.”

Liz smiled at that truth. They stood staring at each other for a long moment, the light dancing between them, the heat building to a crescendo; then she stretched up and touched her lips to his.

That was all it took.

P
erfect! Brandon couldn't have asked for more than this. He'd wondered how he'd awaken Liz without frightening her, but she'd been waiting for him. Plus she wanted exactly what he wanted. Maybe she had felt the magnetic pull between them. Maybe her intuition had told her that he had no choice but to come to her.

That had to be a good sign.

Brandon's sense of the powerful influence of destiny increased, making it seem inevitable that everything would work out perfectly between them. His resolve seemed to make the firestorm burn even brighter.

Liz was wearing a pink slip of a nightgown, and he was sure he'd never seen anything so sexy in his life. The top was made of stretchy lace that hugged her breasts tightly; then the solid skirt skimmed over her waist and hips, ending at her thighs. There were narrow
straps that went over her shoulders. When she'd walked toward him, the firestorm's golden light had gilded her skin, making her look precious.

She was both delicate and feminine, and, yet again, he knew she would be incredibly striking once she got a tan. Her dark hair hung loose over her shoulders and had started to curl. But he was glad to see she had purpose, too. She was serious in a way that the beach girls weren't and he guessed that she was smart. That she looked at him this way was icing on the cake.

When she smiled at him, he couldn't believe his luck.

When she kissed him, he was convinced that nothing would ever go wrong in his life again.

Liz wound her arms around his neck and kissed him with all the passion she'd shown earlier. She smelled sweet and spicy, the scent of soap mingling with the heat of her own arousal. That she was excited by him made him even harder. His arms were full of her softness and heat, the flames of the firestorm dancing between them and over them, lighting everything with its golden glow.

He wanted this magical moment to last forever.

He kissed her less gently this time, kissed her deeply, and loved how she responded to his touch. Her fingers were knotted in his hair, and he felt her rise to her toes. This time she did rub her pelvis against him, and Brandon nearly lost it.

The heat of the firestorm raged through his body, firing his blood and inciting his passion. She opened
her mouth to his kiss, demanding more of him as she hadn't earlier, and Brandon would give her all he had. Their passion sparked, heating the air around them. Brandon felt their hearts pound as one again and reveled in the sensation. This was kismet, up close and personal. Liz was everything he wanted and he was going to ensure that she felt the same way about him by the time they were done.

He caught her up in his arms and headed for the doorway, assuming this was her apartment. The bed was unmade, probably because she'd just gotten up, but the sheets smelled of clean laundry and Liz's skin. There was no better aphrodisiac for Brandon. He sat on the edge of the bed, cradling her in his arms, loving the feel of her buttocks against his thighs. She kissed him hungrily, spearing her fingers through his hair and holding him closer.

Brandon kissed her neck, her ear, her throat, wanting to taste her from head to toe. He put his hands on her shoulders and pushed down the straps of her slip. Her breasts were freed of their lace prison and he filled his hands with them, bending to take one nipple in his mouth.

Liz moaned in pleasure. She arched her back, displaying herself to him in a way that drove him crazy. He pushed the slip down to her waist and feasted on her breasts, teasing each nipple to erection and making her writhe in pleasure. He loved how responsive she was, the fact that he could please her so much making him yearn to give her more. He was harder
and thicker than he'd ever been, but he was determined to wait.

Even if it killed him.

There would only be one first time for them, and no matter how many more times they were together, the memory of this night had to be perfect.

He bracketed her waist in his hands and eased her back on to the bed, kissing her belly as he did so. Liz grabbed the slip and tugged it over her own head, tossing it aside, and Brandon paused to look at her. He ran his hands over the length of her, admiring that she was both sleek and feminine.

“You're gorgeous,” he murmured, watching how the light of the firestorm danced between his palms and her body, turning her skin to gold as if she did have that tan already. “Perfect,” he added, then slid down the length of her. He cupped her buttocks in his hands and bent to taste her sweetness.

Her moan of pleasure nearly drove him out of his mind.

But he'd drive her crazy first.

Liz was lost in a realm of pleasure and didn't want to ever find her way out of it. Brandon touched her with the mix of tenderness and surety that she was already associating with him, the combination making her want more and more. He caressed her, he stroked her, he teased her nipples so that they were aching and hard. He kissed her as she'd never been kissed before.

And when he went down on her, she thought she would explode. She'd never gotten naked so fast and felt passion rise so quickly, but the power of this moment was overwhelming. Liz had denied her instincts for so long that she had no intention of stopping the tide now.

Brandon's tongue flicked against her, his breath driving her crazy. She felt his teeth graze her and writhed on the bed as she'd never writhed before. She had her hands locked in his hair, her hips were bucking of their own accord, and all her muscles were taut in anticipation. She was gasping and her heart was pounding, a trickle of perspiration sliding down the middle of her back.

It was that light, those strange flames that licked her body and fed her passion. The entire room was radiant gold, even though there were no lights on, the darkness illuminated by the sparks that burned between her and Brandon.

This was a love spell that totally delivered.

And so did Brandon. Liz hadn't had a partner before who was so determined to give as to receive. He urged her higher with every flick of his tongue. Liz struggled beneath his grip, not really wanting to break free. Her every nerve was singing and her blood was filled with an incendiary heat. She was sure she couldn't stand it any longer.

Then he flicked his tongue against her clitoris, and Liz came with a cry. The explosion roared through her body and she saw the sparks fly off her fingertips.

She saw the wonder in Brandon's expression and knew exactly how she was going to reciprocate. She reached for him, urging him to roll to his back. She was breathing heavily, the taste of salt on her lip. He leaned forward and kissed it away, his eyes twinkling with irresistible humor.

“Behave,” she said, pretending to be stern. “It's your turn.”

He lay back, displaying himself to her, smiling as she looked. Liz peeled off his shirt, then ran her hands over his muscled chest in admiration. He had more than one tattoo, the dark ink striking against the amber of his tan.

She slid her hands over that perfect six-pack, then slipped her fingers inside his shorts and eased them over his hips. He was hard and ready, and she stroked him as he kicked off his shorts. He looked like a god in the bed beside her, so perfectly formed and tanned that maybe he was an illusion.

Liz wasn't going to let him get away just yet. She folded her hand around him, then bent and took him in her mouth.

She liked the way he moaned. His fingers slid into her hair, but he didn't stop her or hurry her. Liz took her time. She caressed him and kissed him until he was even harder and thicker, liking the evidence of her power to please him. He whispered her name and stroked his fingertips over her shoulder.

When he said her name with more urgency and reached for her, Liz's heart skipped. He wanted her,
not just pleasure in general. Her heart sang in recognition of a kindred spirit.

She'd reconcile herself to the reappearance of magic in her life later. For now there was only Brandon and the promise of his touch. When he moaned her name, his voice hoarse with yearning, she moved to sit astride him. Brandon smiled at her and locked his hands around her waist.

“I could have finished you off,” she teased.

“No.” He shook his head. “I want us to come together.”

He slid his hands over her, cupping her breasts, then sliding one finger down to her wet heat. He touched her until she was shivering again, and Liz stretched higher to give him access. When her clitoris was hard again and her heart was pounding, Liz lowered her hips and took his strength inside her.

Brandon closed his eyes and moaned. He faltered for a second; then he gripped her hips in his hands. Their gazes met and locked, the intensity of their desire crackling. Those flames danced and cavorted, making it look like there was a bonfire between them.

Liz had never been so excited in her life. She could see Brandon's pulse at his throat, couldn't believe the brilliant glitter of his eyes. She felt as if they'd stepped into the middle of the sun, and tasted perspiration on her own lip.

Then Brandon moved, slowly burying himself deep within her. Liz gasped. He held her hips in his hands, his thumbs stroking her skin and his gaze locked with
hers. “Okay?” he asked. and she heard the strain in his voice.