Secrets in the Stone (26 page)

“I’m fascinated by the gargoyles you’ve done,” Adrian said, setting the pad of paper on the arm of the couch and flipping through pages with one hand to find a clean one. “I’ve read a lot—oh my God.”

“What?” Rooke said, jerking back from the haze of pleasure she’d drifted into.

“Did you do all the drawings in here?” Adrian placed her hand in the center of Rooke’s chest to keep her lying down when she realized she was about to sit up.

“Yes,” Rooke said, perplexed by the ominous note in Adrian’s voice. “That’s how I make sure I get the carvings right. I have to have Pops check the spelling.”

“No. No—this isn’t a gravestone you would be carving.” Adrian waved the pad vigorously above Rooke’s head so she could see it, her recent desire turning to acid fear in the back of her throat.

“Oh, that one. I dreamed it.”

“You dreamed it. What do you mean you dreamed it?”

Rooke flushed, embarrassed. “It was just something I saw in a dream last week and when I woke up, I drew it.”

“Do you always have such vivid dreams?”

“On and off. More lately, it seems.”

“What else was in the dream?” Adrian probed. Ordinarily, she didn’t think much about dreams. She had them. Sometimes she awoke feeling as if the dreams had been memories, and sometimes things would happen in real life that she would swear she had dreamed. Lately, her dreams had been different than anything she’d ever experienced, but then everything about her body and mind was different.

“It was just a dream,” Rooke said evasively. “Why does it matter?”

“I don’t know that it does. It’s just that—Rooke, the name on this gravestone is yours.” Adrian didn’t add that that scared the hell out of her.

Rooke frowned. “Mine.”

“Yes,” Adrian said gently. “You don’t recognize it?”

“No. I can’t…” She sighed in exasperation. It was so hard to explain. “I can copy something that’s right in front of me. I can write my name if I have a copy of it to look at. But I won’t recognize it later and I can’t remember how to do it. The way they explained it is there’s some connection missing between what I see and my brain deciphering it. I can see it, but it doesn’t form a word in my mind—even if I know what it’s supposed to say.”

“It’s kind of like short-term memory loss, only visual,” Adrian murmured. “You can see this right now and know it’s your name, but the next time you see it, you won’t recognize it. Right?”

“That’s right.”

“That must be so frustrating.” Adrian stroked her face. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not so bad because I’ve always been that way. I think it would be worse if it was something I used to be able to do and now I can’t.”

Adrian nodded. “Tell me about the dream.”

Rooke averted her face, looking out into the rapidly darkening room. The sun had set. “I dreamed I was lying on a grave and there were people—women—there. They were…touching me. It was cold. So cold. And I…” She suddenly found it hard to swallow.

“It’s okay.” Adrian wrapped her arms around Rooke’s shoulders, leaning over her, holding her in the curve of her body. “Baby, it’s okay.”

“I asked for help but there wasn’t any. And then I woke up.” Rooke turned back quickly and Adrian’s face was very close to hers. She could still feel the ice splintering her bones and Adrian looked so upset. Without thinking, Rooke raised up on her elbow and kissed her.

Adrian registered the electric glide of Rooke’s hand over her neck a heartbeat before the satin weight of Rooke’s mouth descended, catapulting her body into overdrive. Rooke’s lips skimmed hers, gentle but firmly inquisitive, and Adrian hungered to open for her, to pull her inside her mouth just as frantically as she longed to have her inside her body. Her skin flushed hot, her limbs quivered like cables snapping in a hurricane, and her insides churned with molten fire. Holding on to her control by a thread, Adrian gripped Rooke’s shoulders, digging her fingers into steel bands of muscle as much to anchor herself as to satisfy the craving to touch her. Never had she felt so much from a kiss, never had every atom of her being been so stirred by such a simple caress, and oh God, how she wanted to let go. How she burned to melt into her and let the mindless blaze of passion take her. But she held on, held back the tide of release, though she ached for it with every cell. She wanted,
needed,
this moment with Rooke to be more than a means to satisfy her body. She lashed herself to the here and now, focusing every bit of her awareness on Rooke’s diamond-rough fingertips stroking her throat, on the soft whisper of Rooke’s breath against her cheek, on her scent of fresh cut wood and the sharp tang of earth and stone.

Rooke reached behind her and grasped the back of the couch, pulling herself up and pressing Adrian back into the cushions at the same time. The weight of Rooke’s body against her tense, hypersensitive breasts made Adrian moan, and she felt herself unraveling at her core. Flames licked along her inner thighs and she shuddered, straining against the flare of pleasure scorching through her center. She whimpered, on the brink of succumbing to her body’s demand to orgasm.

“What is it?” Rooke whispered, her words choppy and her breathing uneven. “Am I doing something wrong?”

“Oh my God, no. No.” Adrian leaned her forehead against Rooke’s and pressed trembling fingers to Rooke’s mouth. Her chest heaved and every brush of her breasts against Rooke’s was exquisite torture. “Rooke, you couldn’t be doing anything more perfectly.”

“I want to do everything perfectly for you.” Rooke teased her tongue over Adrian’s lips, dipping in and out of her mouth.

Adrian shot right to the edge again. Quivering, she retreated as far as the sofa at her back would allow. Seeing Rooke’s instant frown of uncertainty, she smiled weakly. “I’m sorry, you just feel so good. God, I need a second here.”

Rooke turned on the couch until she was sitting, facing Adrian. Adrian’s eyes looked hazy, her full lips swollen and moist. Rooke hungered for her, a pulse pounding between her thighs that beat harder and faster with each passing second. She slid her arm behind Adrian’s back, around her waist, and pulled her close. When their chests and stomachs and legs met, a heaviness pulled at her groin and the muscles in her thighs seized. “You taste even better than you smell. Can I please kiss you again?”

Adrian wondered if it was possible for a heart to truly burst. She framed Rooke’s face with her hands, tracing the frown lines in her forehead with her fingertips. The row of sutures was just visible as a thin dark line under the Steri-strips the surgeon had applied. She brushed her thumbs over Rooke’s wide, strong mouth. The tip of Rooke’s tongue swirled around the pad of her thumb and her clitoris shivered.

“I’m going to come apart if you keep kissing me like that,” Adrian moaned, “but God, I want you to…”

Rooke took her with another kiss, savoring the crush of Adrian’s breasts against her chest. She skimmed her fingertips up Adrian’s tight middle until the backs of her fingers brushed the underside of Adrian’s breasts. Adrian moaned and arched into her. Slipping her tongue deeper into Adrian’s mouth, Rooke cupped her breast. Lost in the slide of silk over satin and the small hard peak of Adrian’s nipple rubbing against the center of her palm, she traced the firm prominence with one finger. Adrian groaned into her mouth.

“No?” Rooke murmured, stilling her motion.

Adrian covered Rooke’s hand and pressed Rooke’s fingers closed around her breast. She would come if Rooke kept stimulating her nipples. She’d never done that, never even been close, but she was seconds from it now. “You can’t know what you’re doing to me.”

“Does it feel good?” Rooke kissed the underside of Adrian’s jaw, then down her neck. She buried her face in the hollow of Adrian’s throat and licked her soft skin, tasting salt and the sweet mist of arousal.

“Wonderful.” Adrian moaned when Rooke returned to her mouth, her kisses hot and bruising. Rooke didn’t seem curious now. She was possessive and demanding, and Adrian thrilled to the power of Rooke’s desire. She raked her nails over Rooke’s shoulders, and Rooke pushed her back until she was lying with Rooke’s hard thigh locked between her legs. Rooke tugged at her lip with teeth and squeezed her nipple again and again.

“Rooke,” Adrian gasped, her sex clenching.

“Taste so good,” Rooke muttered, rocking her pelvis into Adrian’s with short, hard thrusts.

Every thrust forced Adrian’s swollen clitoris against the hard bone beneath. She was close. Too close now. Twisting her head away from Rooke’s, she grabbed Rooke’s hips and pushed her back.

“Baby, stop, you’re going to make me come.”

“I’m sorry.” Rooke shuddered, her mouth pressed to Adrian’s ear. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“I know, baby, God, I know.” Adrian shook beneath Rooke’s hot, heavy weight, squeezing her eyes tightly shut and battling back the first faint ripples of release. “Not your fault. I just can’t…it’s me, not you. I just need to go slower.”

Rooke shoved herself up on shaking arms, her thighs still intertwined with Adrian’s. Adrian was so beautiful, her face and neck painted a dusky rose with desire. She wanted to keep kissing her, tasting her, touching her, but she’d wait. She’d waited so many times, empty and aching. Now she could wait, even with the hard fist of need pounding in her belly. The ache was all the sweeter because Adrian was everywhere inside her.

“I only meant to kiss you,” Rooke whispered.

Adrian nodded weakly and stroked Rooke’s face. Rooke’s skin was damp with sweat, her intense dark eyes heavy-lidded and savagely seductive. Some primal, primitive place deep inside her longed to surrender to that fierce demand, and the part of her that wasn’t terrified at the thought thrilled to the passion pounding through her blood. “Well, you did a mighty fine job of it.”

Rooke grinned crookedly. “Beginner’s luck.”

“Beginner’s…” Adrian stared as Rooke averted her gaze, almost as if she were embarrassed. That couldn’t be. “You can’t mean…” Shocked, Adrian raised herself up on her elbows and Rooke automatically shifted back, her knees on either side of Adrian’s hips, their bodies no longer in intimate contact. “Are you telling me that’s the first time you’ve kissed a woman?”

“Anyone.” Rooke grimaced. “You don’t think I’ve been kissing Dominic, do you?”

“I thought you had a girlfriend?” Adrian blushed, embarrassed now herself. She hadn’t given a single thought to the woman Rooke was involved with. What had she been thinking? That was the problem, she hadn’t been thinking like herself for days. She felt as if someone else had taken over her mind as well as her body, and her good judgment and restraint had gone right out the window.

“It’s not like that with her,” Rooke said.
Not like it is with you.

Adrian wriggled out from under Rooke and sat up in the corner of the couch again, drawing her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. She
had
to keep some space between herself and Rooke while she was still so flammable. She was absolutely certain that the slightest touch from Rooke anywhere on her body would send her into orbit again. And Rooke deserved a lot more from her than a twitch reflex she couldn’t control—an orgasm that would be about as intimate as a nervous tic. Especially if what she was coming to understand was true—that Rooke was completely inexperienced. As it was, Rooke looked worried and a little confused. Who could blame her? Two minutes ago she’d been letting Rooke crawl all over her, and God knew her body had been sending “take me” signals loud and clear. Hell, she’d practically been telegraphing
fuck me
all afternoon, and she needed Rooke to know her pulling away wasn’t Rooke’s fault.

“Okay,” Adrian said as she let out a long slow breath, forcing her heartbeat to slow down. “For the record, you’re a phenomenal kisser.” She shook her head, injecting as much levity as she could manage into her voice while a good part of her nervous system was still screaming at her to let Rooke finish what she’d started. She still wanted to come so badly she was nauseous. “And if this is your first time, I can only imagine what you’ll be like with a little more practice. You’ll need a warning sign.”

“I got pretty excited,” Rooke admitted. “I can go slower.”

“Oh God, baby,” Adrian groaned. “
I’m
the one who needs to slow down. I just…” She suddenly thought of Melinda and the mindless lust Melinda inspired in her, completely against her will. She thought of the women she’d slept with to assuage her loneliness and despair. She tried to remember the last time she’d truly given herself to a woman physically, and she couldn’t. She couldn’t remember a single time when she’d ever wanted a woman to take her, to possess her, with the fevered craving that still ate at her core. She didn’t want to be that vulnerable, that needy, especially not when her body didn’t seem to be her own. “I just need to take things a little bit slower.”

“I understand.” Rooke eased back until their bodies were no longer touching at all.

“I’m sorry.”

Rooke shook her head. “I wish you wouldn’t say that. Why would you be sorry about something you need?”

Tears flooded Adrian’s eyes and she had to bite her lip to hold them back. “I…” Her voice shook and tears spilled over. She brushed at them impatiently, her hand shaking. “I feel like I’m disappointing you. Like I’m always disappointing people.” She scrubbed her face with her palms, disgusted with the whine she heard in her voice. “God, just ignore me. My hormones or something are completely haywire.”