Authors: Marilyn Campbell
Topaz Dreams (20 page)
Chapter Fourteen
Let us do or die.—Robert Burns
Stevesighed contentedly. The warm body against her back, the heavy leg
overlapping her own, the gentle fingers playing with her nipple, all
confirmed it had not been another erotic dream, but the amazingly,
wonderfully real thing.
She turned to face Falcon, and stroked his
outer leg with her foot. No matter how they had spent the night, she
craved more of the delicious feel of him against her skin. Her tongue
snaked out to get a taste of his shoulder, then the skin under his
chin. When she lifted her head and leaned over to do the same to his
mouth, Falcon captured her tongue with his teeth and pulled it inside
his mouth.
One kiss and the heavy male part of him throbbed against
her stomach. She was a little sore—who wouldn't be after last night's
marathon?—but not so sore that her body couldn't respond instantly to
the awareness that he wanted her again. Moving further up his side, she
placed her bent knee over his hip, positioning and stretching herself
for him. He found his mark without her guidance, and they each moved
half the distance necessary to be completely joined again.
"Falcon."
Steve whispered his name as if it were a sacred word. "Every time feels
better than the last. For someone who swears he never did this before,
you've certainly gotten the hang of it."
He kissed her with the same
excruciating restraint that he used to ease himself in and out of her.
"I had an exceptional trainer," he purred in her ear during another
slow, deep thrust.
Steve tilted her head back a notch. "Is that
right? What kind of 'trainer' teaches such a. . .sensitive subject?"
Another plunge deep inside her caused her to moan softly.
Falcon's
fingers ruffled her short hair and stopped to play with the fine
strands at her nape. He murmured his answer between brief, fiery
kisses. "One who possesses beauty, courage, and kindness beyond words.
One who allowed this humble, unskilled male to practice on her
incredible body all night long." He flexed deep inside her, and her
body instinctively tightened around him.
"O-o-oh. I don't think allowed works in that sentence. Try welcomed, invited . .. seduced." Another flex in response.
"Nevertheless,
I do not believe a simple thank you is going to suffice in this
instance." His hand slipped down her spine to grasp and massage her
bottom, then lifted her to meet his next thrust.
Steve closed her
eyes to hold onto the ripple of pleasure a moment longer. "You're
right. I think you'll have to buy me flowers, too. Oh, God, do that
again!" He did, and her body broke out in gooseflesh. "But I couldn't
have taught you about nerves I didn't even know I had." His strokes
took on a rhythmic, building momentum which caused her to arch and
tense in anticipation.
"I had knowledge of the female body without
actually knowing it at all. With you, I have only to open myself to
your feelings to know what pleases you. It seems to be a most
satisfactory method." He moved harder, faster.
His point, was
effectively proven when Steve cried out her extreme satisfaction. One
more time he took her to a world where nothing mattered but sensation.
When
she finally regained enough energy to separate herself from Falcon,
Steve said, "And now I'd like to teach you about a matter of great
concern here in California—conserving water." At his confused
expression, she laughed and kissed his ear. Using her huskiest voice,
she explained, "Come take a shower with me."
Falcon admired her nude
back heading into the bathroom. He wanted to make the most of every
minute they had left. Like her, his intuition told him their efforts
that day would bring them closer to Underwood, which meant his mission,
his reason for remaining here, would soon come to an end. How will I
bear to leave you, Steve?
Over the sound of rushing water, Steve called, "What did you say?"
"Noth
..." Falcon's brow furrowed thoughtfully. He walked into the bathroom,
but stopped himself from entering the shower where he could see a
blurry image of her behind the glass. "I did not speak."
Steve slid
the door open a few inches and peeked out. "I thought... Never mind.
Come on in. It's just right." She wondered why he would deny that he
had spoken, and why he looked so puzzled. His voice had come to her
clearly a moment ago, at least her name had. It was possible that
wishful thinking had caused her to imagine it.
Falcon stepped in
behind her and closed the door. If she had truly heard what he was
thinking, one of two things was happening. Either she was developing a
telepathy with him, or his power to send his thoughts had improved
drastically since last night. He would have to be very careful until he
had tested his theory properly. Steve's soapy palms rubbing over his
chest regained his attention. There was nothing in her expression or
actions to indicate that she was hearing his every thought.
When she
nudged him around to do his back, he mentally directed a sentence to
her. I approve of California's method of conservation.
"I thought
you might." Her slippery fingers ran over his firm buttocks, then
clamped onto his hips to turn him back to her. She soaped her hands a
bit more and proceeded to give him a thorough, intimate cleansing.
He
had his answer. Apparently, the sound of the rushing water kept her
from realizing she was not actually hearing his voice. Her gentle
massage terminated his interest in the experiment. Later. For now he
was determined not to miss a single, enjoyable second of her attentions.
Steve
closed her eyes as his hands performed a reciprocal service on her
body. She was locking away every touch, every shimmering feeling. The
night would come when she would need to take the memories out to ease
her loneliness. Her certainty of that was so strong it must have made
her hear him say what she herself was thinking. How would she bear it
when he left?
His fingers slid between her thighs and covered her
mound with his palm. Steve felt the warmth entering her flesh, like it
had in her arms and legs when he relieved her pain after the fight in
Miami. As then, she felt the immediate soothing affect his magical
touch brought with it. "Mmmm. Much better. Thank you."
Falcon urged
her against him and kissed her tenderly. "I apologize. I am afraid in
my enthusiasm I did not consider your welfare as I should have."
"Don't
you dare apologize for giving me the most fantastic night of my entire
life." She sounded like she was scolding him, but her smile gave her
away. After rinsing and turning off the water, Steve opened the door
and reached for the two towels she had laid out. Falcon promptly took
them out of her hand and dropped them on the floor.
"I have a much
more interesting method of removing the moisture. One I am positive a
conservation-minded Californian would approve."
Steve did not have
to wait to discover what that method might be. Falcon's head dipped
forward as if to kiss her again, but instead his unusual tongue flicked
out to lick up a drop of water from the tip of her nose. She could not
prevent the giggle that escaped. It tickled. He licked the water from
her cheekbones, her eyelids, and the corners of her mouth. Steve sighed
and willingly gave herself over to his ministrations.
"Your emotions
are so delightfully obvious, Steve." With the slightest pressure under
her chin, he tipped her head slightly back and lapped up the tiny pool
of water in the hollow at the base of her throat. Falcon drew his rough
tongue across her collarbone, stopping to drink the moisture pocketed
in the indentations there. He absorbed her dampness, just as he
absorbed the recurring shivers vibrating through her body.
"You like
the feel of my tongue. I am aware that my tongue is more abrasive than
a human's. I never considered it a matter of importance." He used it to
trace her fingers and drew each one into his mouth and out. His hot
breath exhaling softly on her palms and inner arms was like a desert
breeze, as he blazed a trail back to her shoulders. The dampness on her
skin evaporated on its own, but he continued the task he had set for
himself.
His tongue snaked a path down and around her right breast,
outlining her fullness in ever-decreasing circles. Finally, he captured
the peak between his lips, sucking and tickling, until Steve thought
every nerve in her body had been drawn into that one tight nucleus.
Only then did he move to her left breast and repeat the heavenly
torment. Each crest was treated to a parting kiss before he continued
his observations.
"I was of the mistaken belief that the purpose was
to give me a more acute sense of taste." Falcon placed a kiss between
her breasts. Steve gasped and contracted her stomach when he proceeded
to gently scrape his tongue in a jagged line to her navel. That
sensitive small indentation received a seductive swirl and another kiss
as he knelt before her.
"It has occurred to me that there is
something else it may be good for. I can touch you, satisfy you, in a
way no man in your world can." The warning did not prepare her for the
shock of his unique appendage easing itself between her thighs,
tasting, stroking, learning all the ways she was different from him.
Overcome with pleasurable weakness, Steve's knees gave out. Falcon
quickly moved his hands up the back of her thighs, bracing her for his
next attack on her senses.
He dragged his tongue slowly to the
center of her passion. Steve knew she was breathing too rapidly; her
heart was pounding too heavily. She could not survive. But she could
not stop this exquisite torture, either. Trembling from head to toe,
she pressed her fists into his shoulders. Her fingers clenched and
unclenched, tangling and tugging on his hair. This was like nothing she
had ever experienced before. Higher and higher, she spiraled. Toward
what? Silently, she begged for release from the all-consuming tension
building inside her mind and body.
Falcon must have heard her plea.
His movements became controlled, limited to imitating the stroking that
had brought her such pleasure when he was inside her a short time ago.
She heard herself moan—a sound that was part pleasure, part pain. Teeth
gritted, eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back in near delirium,
complete ecstasy swept through her like a cyclone.
Falcon absorbed
the violent quaking of her body, and held her tighter. Suddenly she
collapsed in his arms. Panic overwhelmed him. Had he gone too far?
After all, what did he really know about human females? Gingerly, he
touched her temple. In his mind's eye he saw the same twinkling prisms
he had seen with the loss of his virginity. He shared her return to
consciousness. When Steve's lashes fluttered, he removed his fingers.
"What..."
Falcon kissed her nose and smiled. "Apparently your body decided it was time for a nap."
"My
God! I fainted! I've never fainted in my life." Steve blushed as she
realized what had caused the lapse, but did not lower her gaze. "That
was incredible. I'm just not sure I would ever want to go through it
again—at least not today." She laughed and kissed his nose right back.
After
indulging in a lazy breakfast, it required very little urging on
Falcon's part to convince Steve to take a real nap before they set out
on their mission. The plan was to leave in mid-afternoon wearing simple
disguises, enter the Underwood building separately, and remain hidden
until after closing time. Their information on the building's layout
and security systems was extremely sketchy, but a test run was not a
viable option.
Between the two of them they recalled that, although
there was a desk and monitor in the lobby, no one had been at the
security station when either of them had entered. More than likely a
guard was posted only at night. During the day each floor probably had
its own receptionist, as the executive floor had, to screen its
visitors. As they exited from an elevator onto any level, they ran the
risk of being stopped and possibly recognized. Falcon had seen two
closed doors in the lobby, aside from the elevator, and they pinned
their hopes that at least one of them led to a temporary refuge.
When
Steve awoke a short time later, it occurred to her that she felt more
rested than she had any right to, but immediately channelled her
revitalized energy into preparing for the job ahead. She chose a simply
styled, shoulder-length, light brown wig and donned a navy-blue,
tailored business suit, white blouse, and low-heeled shoes. With the
addition of a pair of tortoiseshell glasses and a slightly scarred '
briefcase, she could pass for an unremarkable salesperson.
Due to
her limited resources, Steve could not change Falcon's appearance as
easily. She finally settled on a variation of the Nevada cover. A black
baseball cap to entrap his hair, sunglasses, a tee shirt and her
utility belt changed him enough to fool a casual onlooker, but, if
someone was actually looking for him, they might see through the props.
They would have to be extremely cautious. To Falcon's relief, he could
forego the false lenses as long as he kept the shades on. He had a
feeling all his gifts would be called on this night.
Just as Steve
unlocked the door of her Mustang, Falcon stopped her. "Wait. A man was
here, at your vehicle." He closed his eyes and placed his outstretched
palms on the hood.
Steve froze, not understanding, but obeying implicitly. When Falcon moved away from the car, she waited for him to explain.
"The
image is fading, which means what I am seeing occurred many hours ago,
at least twelve. The man's aura is dark but not truly evil. He opened
this front segment and loosened two fittings on the driver's side. Then
he left. Does this make sense to you?"
Steve frowned and bent down
to inspect the asphalt under the car. Beneath the master cylinder was a
small stain. Touching the spot, she discovered it was fresh. One sniff
of the translucent, oily substance confirmed it was brake fluid.
She
straightened, keeping her dirty finger away from her suit, and opened
her briefcase with her other hand. While she located a tissue, she
said, "At the very least, someone's tampered with the brake line, but
I'd have to get in there to know for sure.
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