Lost in You (9 page)

I laughed. ‘Crazy. Bizarre. Dreamlike.’

I slipped beneath the sheets and tried to get comfortable. I didn’t mould myself against him because I didn’t want to be presumptuous. It
had
been an eventful day. One chock-full of stressors. Sex was a stress release for most people. Men, especially. I certainly couldn’t read anything into what had happened between us. I’d be a fool.

He smashed all those thoughts by turning on his side, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me against him snugly. ‘I’d like to take you somewhere far off for dinner. Somewhere exotic. With sand and blue water and rich, decadent food. Where a storm worthy of Noah’s ark is just a distant memory and we can explore a beautiful locale. Not my …
mall
.’

My tongue was welded to the roof of my mouth. He was saying this about me? Boring, average, run-of-the-mill me?

Before I could think better of it, I simply blurted, ‘I’m more of a local girl.’

‘You mean you want to go down the road and have dinner at Joe’s Taco Stand?’

‘No,’ I said, laughing and tucking my head against him in embarrassment. He made a low, lustful sound and it set off fireworks in my stomach. It brought me back to the fact that I was in this particular fantasy bed with this particular dream man. One I’d never dreamed about until I’d actually met him. ‘I mean, like … that sweatshirt you pilfered. Nantucket. I’m more of a Nantucket girl. Put me on a beach with a seafood boil and sand between my toes. Cold beer, ocean breeze, big fire. That’s me. I don’t need exotic. Or expensive or anything like that. I’m a pretty simple girl.’

He kissed my hair and I yawned again. ‘You’re pretty mind-blowing, Miss Clover.’

‘I’m not,’ I said. My eyes drifted shut. I was so tired they ached. I felt as if I had sand in them from that beach I mentioned.

‘You are. Now get some sleep. Tomorrow is another day.’

I didn’t tell him I hoped they were right about the storm. I hoped that it stuck around through tomorrow. I could do with just one more day ‘trapped’ with Dorian Martin.

* * *

They were coming. The banging and the noise were overwhelming. I covered my head, felt a cold, steady tremor of fear start in me. Once it began it seemed to shake my bones until I felt I’d skitter apart into a thousand tiny pieces.

I cried out but my voice was gone. Silent. The fear so big it ate any noise I could have made. I curled into the smallest ball I could. If they got in –
when
they got in – they’d have trouble finding me if I could make myself tiny and invisible. They could have whatever they wanted. Anything they wanted. If they just left me alone.

I opened my mouth to scream. Realised that no one was there to hear me. Yelling would only draw attention to me. Lead them to me.

The noise got louder and then louder still. Something screamed in the night and someone yelled and tears started to roll down my cheeks as my heart pounded loud enough to lead them to me anyway. I was full of the deafening silent sound of dread.

Another boom. Bigger than the others, sounding like cannon fire. Echoing through the darkness. I sat up, forgetting my determination to be silent. I screamed. Tilted my head back, clutched at my own skin and screamed. It was the only thing I could do.

When I opened my eyes I was sitting in the big decadent display bed, alone. My body shaking like I had a high fever, cold sweat coating me, making the once warm sweater seem like a smothering wet blanket. I wanted to strip bare to get the dampness from my skin and yet I was freezing.

I just sat there, staring into the beckoning darkness of the Rotunda. Until I heard running footsteps and I screamed again.

But it wasn’t the big bad boogie man come to get me. It was Dorian running through the store entrance looking like he was out for blood. The blood of whoever had made me yell. The only problem was, what had made me yell was fifteen years in the past.

I held my hands up. ‘It’s OK. I’m OK.’ Only when I spoke aloud did I realise I was sobbing. Great, snuffling sobs that threatened to buckle my spine. Every single one felt as if it shook me from my hair to the tips of my toes. I opened my mouth to assure him I was really and truly fine – if not a bit insane – and another great sob swallowed my words.

He hit the bed so hard it threatened to bounce me out and then he hauled me close. But just as suddenly he pushed me back and began inspecting me. ‘Are you sure you’re OK? My fucking God, what happened? What?’ Once he decided I wasn’t injured he pulled me close once more.

‘Dream. Just a dream. Whatever that horrible noise was it triggered … a nightmare. An old one and I just … I’m fine. I’m embarrassed. I’m sorry. I just –’ I shook my head and shut up. I was babbling.

‘You’re soaking wet is what you are.’ He pulled my hair back into his hand, gathering at the nape of my neck. His free hand slid beneath my sweater and he shook his head as his fingers skimmed my damp skin. ‘Let’s get you out of this fucking thing. Sorry,’ he said, frowning in the low light of one of the store’s accent lamps we’d switched on. ‘Tense situations make me cuss. A lot.’

I didn’t say anything. I just put my arms straight up like a small child and let him pull the sweater over my head. He took the edge of the duvet and wiped my skin. The chilly air hit me like a fist and goose bumps erupted all over me, my nipples pebbling painfully hard. When I groaned because he wrapped a cashmere throw around my still damp skin, he laughed. ‘Don’t worry. I will repay every item we use. I promise you.’ Then: ‘Stay here –’

‘No, don’t go!’ I said, when I saw he meant to leave. ‘Please.’

‘I just want to run and get you a new sweater or something.’

‘I’m fine. I’ll just stay wrapped. Just please don’t go. Please.’

My heart had picked up speed again just imagining him leaving me alone. Not yet. Too soon. The phantom banging and imaginary booms still filled my mind.

He pressed his lips together and nodded. ‘OK. Fine. Here, at least let’s put this on you.’

He slipped the Nantucket sweatshirt over my head and pulled my hair back again. It refused to stay but the sensation of him touching it was soothing. ‘Thank you.’

He settled back on the pillows and encouraged me to curl against him. He stroked my hair and I touched his chest. ‘You’re wet,’ I said, just noticing.

‘I was outside. I don’t know what you thought that banging was, but it was a free-newspaper box being beaten against the automatic doors by the wind. It was caught in a loop. A gust would pull it back, then the wind would change direction and toss it at the door again. I went to see what it was and finally managed to get the thing inside the outer set of doors. It’s in the vestibule. The wind, Clover …’ He shook his head. ‘The wind is fierce. I think they’re right about tomorrow. I think we’re stuck here until tomorrow night at least.’

Part of me rejoiced at this news. The part of me being held by his strong arm. The part of me with my ear pressed to his chest so I could hear his beating heart.

‘Oh’ was all I could think to say.

I sat up, put my head in my hands. A fresh spike of adrenalin coursed through me. I was anxious again. ‘I need to move,’ I muttered, getting up.

‘Are you sure you’re OK?’

I nodded, found my jeans and pulled them on. ‘I’m fine. I just need to … walk. I need to walk up front and see for myself that it was a newspaper box. I need to move in general. When that dream happens it …’ I sighed and tried to think of how to explain. ‘It winds me up. Sets me on edge. It usually takes me an hour or two to get my shit back together.’

I wiggled my toes in the warm socks I’d kept on. I didn’t want to put my boots on. It was weird to be walking around the mall with no shoes on, it felt completely strange. But I didn’t have slippers, now, did I?

‘Well, I’m coming with you,’ he said.

I smiled as he pulled on his T-shirt and jeans. ‘I won’t complain. Though I am a little sad to see you covering up that body.’ I pressed my lips together shyly after I’d said it. Why the hell had I said that?

But he looked pleased. ‘No sadder than I was when I had to drape a sweatshirt over those perfect breasts without getting so much as a single feel … a single tweak of a nipple … a single lick.’

A steady thumping desire started between my legs and I tried to get a deep breath. ‘Sorry …’ I stammered.

‘It’s OK.’ He came around and took my hand. We started towards the front entrance. ‘You can make it up to me later.’

At the front door, I eyed the courtesy desk. ‘I already tried to call outside,’ Dorian said. ‘Same emergency number. The only calls being routed are emergency calls and they advise there may be a delay in those.’

‘Great. No reason to be afraid of that, right?’ I said.

He put his arms around me and kissed my hair. I marvelled at how fast and easy it had been to become affectionate. I kept stopping myself from initiating it because I felt like I was being pushy, but Dorian seemed to have no hang-ups. ‘I promise you, you’ll be safe.’

‘I believe you.’

‘So will you ever tell me what’s wrong?’

I realised I would. I had every intention of telling him at some point. ‘I will. I just … sometimes I have problems when the night comes.’

‘That’s a lot of people.’

‘Are you implying that I’m normal, Mr Martin?’

He grinned. ‘I’m implying that you’re more normal than you might think. And look.’ He pressed his finger to the sliding doors that were now disabled and locked. ‘There is the offending free-newspaper box. It was empty. I can only assume all the newspapers flew the coop. When we do get out of here the whole world is probably going to be covered in papier-mâché.’

‘Let’s go. I see the culprit now. Let’s walk down to the dome.’ I stood there with my eyes shut for a minute, swaying slightly even though he held my hand. I was tired but wired. The sound of the pounding rain and the forceful wind reminded me of
Oz
. And that was how I felt inside. As if I’d been swept up, tossed around and dropped into some new reality. One that had its wonderful bits and its scary ones.

‘Your wish is my command,’ he said and led the way.

The room with the dome was blue. It was always blue. The prevalent shades in the stained glass were blues and purples. The room always had a cool underwater feel. The rain and the gloom of the night added to the ambience.

We passed some of the observation settees. There was nothing in this main room. No stores, no ads, no coffee stand, no vendors. It was large and octagonal, with settees and the gorgeous stained-glass dome overhead. The centre of the room held a small wishing fountain. The bottom was always studded with change and children flocked to the stone structure to make their wishes. I paused by it and wished I had a penny.

‘Here.’ Dorian handed me a penny.

I smiled. ‘It’s not even running. There’s not even water!’

‘Shut your eyes,’ he said. His voice was soft and kind. The tone alone soothed me.

I did as he instructed. Shut my eyes and waited for him to speak. ‘There’s water in spirit and there’s magic for real. It’s a fountain. Just waiting for your wish and to do your bidding.’ He squeezed my shoulder and then: ‘Open your eyes, Clover.’

I opened my eyes and tossed the penny. It landed amidst its brethren with a metallic chink. And I wished.

I wish that this feeling that I get from him, this magic, this sense of waking up … I wish it never ends.

The wish had come unbidden. Popped into my mind fully formed. And it startled me with its intensity.

‘Now come sit. Hold my hand. I am a delicate flower,’ he said.

I started laughing. Really laughing. And when I started, I couldn’t get myself to stop. Not until the guffaws and giggles and sadly a few snorts had run their course. He smoothed my hair. ‘Better?’

‘Yes, better. Thank you, Dorian.’

He kissed me.

I kissed him back. Frantically. All the fear and helplessness I’d experienced when I woke up was funnelled into that kiss and I held his head tight as I licked his lips, stroked my tongue over his. I didn’t want the kiss to end, so when he pulled back I almost sighed with sadness.

‘C’m’ere, Clover,’ he said sounding a little drunk from the kiss though I knew he was perfectly sober. He led me to one of the settees and sat. He pulled me onto his lap and resumed kissing me. It was so frantic that it made me wetter and I was wet to begin with. The way his hands grasped my wrists and held tight as he moved his tongue against mine had me fighting the urge to straddle him. When he let me go, only to yank the sweatshirt over my head, my heart lifted with joy. I wanted this. So badly. Him in this moment, us together, two of us against the storm. I needed something to fight the dark shadows from my dream that were lurking in my peripheral vision. I needed the lightness he brought to me.

When he urged me forward I moved against him. His mouth brushed down my throat and I sifted my fingers through his soft thick hair. He captured my nipple and tugged with his teeth until I couldn’t suppress the sounds that wanted to come out of me. I let my head fall back, thrusting my body against his seeking mouth.

‘God, I want you,’ I whispered, cradling his head with my hand. Holding him to me so he continued to suck and lick as the pressure inside me built.

‘God, that’s the best thing I think I’ve ever heard. And I want you.’

I did straddle him then, moving my legs to either side of his thighs so I could feel his erection pressed to the split of my nether lips. The pressure on my clit sent a buzz of pleasure through me and I attacked the button of his jeans with shaking fingers. I was fully locked in an eager need to have him in me. And for once I refused to worry about what anyone but I thought of that impulse. I wanted him, so I’d set the wheels in motion to have him.

‘Let me. I can do it much, much faster,’ he assured me. And though I wasn’t looking at his face but concentrating on his button, I could tell that he was smiling and that made me smile.

‘Smiling like an idiot pretty much since we met,’ I said aloud.

‘Oh, yeah? Well, you have a perfect smile. A smile that makes me happy. So I hope you don’t stop. But I do admit –’ he stopped and I almost urged him to hurry until I saw the seriousness in his face ‘– I didn’t like it when I heard you screaming. I didn’t like it when you were so scared. It made me crazy. I wanted to smash things and break them. It seemed entirely unfair that you were afraid. And it pissed me off.’