Reach For Me

by Elizabeth Cole

  “Yeah. Of course.” But she could also tell that her refusal to do what he suggested had already killed the whole mood. She closed her eyes. Why did everything have to be difficult?

  Mal’s hands cupped her face. “Cara,” he said quietly. “I want this to be a good night for you, ok? Tell me how to do that. Can I kiss you?”

  She nodded, and a moment later felt his mouth on her own. Not wild, not devouring. Just his lips teasing hers until she forgot the awkwardness of the last exchange and she remembered how good his mouth was.

  “Should have brought the cherries up,” she murmured.

  Mal’s lips curved into a smile. “I like the way you think.”

  She kissed him again.

  Mal made a sound of satisfaction and rolled them so she was on her back. He smiled down at her. “You looked nice in that green dress, but this is better. Can I go down on you again?”

  “Um. Yeah. That’d be ok with me.”

  “Deadpan. I like it.” He grinned and shifted to move lower down on the bed.

  “Mal…you really want to do this?”

  “Yeah, Cara.” He paused. “But it’s going to be a little different this time. I want you to fuck my tongue.”

  “What?”

  “Fuck. My. Tongue. Use your hips, babe. Use my mouth to make yourself come.”

  She was about to protest that she didn’t know what he was talking about, but then she felt his tongue flat against her body, and she knew exactly what he meant. She rolled her hips forward, pressing her clit to his tongue, feeling him meet her.

  “Oh, right,” she managed to gasp out. “Oh, that’s right.”

  Cara gave herself up to it, loving the way she could move her own body and get a jolt of pleasure from Mal’s tongue. Control was hot. How had he guessed she needed that, after letting him do what he did to her downstairs, when she’d felt all her own control slip away?

  Cara found a slow, easy rhythm that sent electric waves shimmering across her body each time, and within moments, she opened her mouth as the orgasm radiated through her. “Oh, yeah,” she breathed.

  “Like that?” Mal asked, his voice gruff.

  “That was…really nice,” she said. It was better than that, but she didn’t have much vocabulary at the moment.

  He moved so his head was over hers, his divine body poised over her own. Now for the main event, she thought, sort of amazed he’d waited this long to get off.

  But it was his fingers she felt next, light and teasing. Cara gasped. “What are you doing?”

  “Watching you,” he said, his eyes intent. “Watching a woman come is one of the best drugs there is. For me anyway. Something about seeing a woman who normally has one look, all cool and calm, just lose it when I touch her…there’s nothing like it.”

  “It’s a power thing.”

  “No. It’s a…I don’t know. Seeing a secret face thing. Knowing something about you no one else knows. Ok, I guess that does sort of make it a power thing.”

  “I mean, it works for me,” Cara admitted. “It has the last two times anyway.”

  He smiled. “What’s your record?”

  “For what?”

  “How many times has a guy made you come in a night?”

  She closed her eyes. “Two. Tonight beat the old record of one.”

  “That’s unacceptable,” Mal said, his voice suddenly harsh. “You deserve a way higher total than that.”

  “I’m ok. And shouldn’t I be doing something for you by now?”

  “No hurry.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Maybe a little hurry,” he admitted, angling his body against hers so she could tell just how hard he was.

  She slid her hand down, fully intending to play with that erection. But he shook his head. “Later, babe. I don’t want to lose focus.”

  Focus on her? Cara was still reeling from the last couple times he focused on her. And now he was still teasing, his finger circling her clit, bringing her back up to a level she assumed was unreachable so soon after she’d left it. “Mal,” she moaned, arching her back. “You’re making me crazy.”

  “You look good crazy,” he said. “I cannot wait to get in you.”

  “But you are waiting.” Her voice was almost a whine.

  “Well, this part is fun too,” he said, his voice melting her insides. “The part where I make you need me.”

  Oh, yes, it was. Cara’s hips rocked against Mal’s hand in rhythm with his touch. She was getting close to coming again. But Mal was apparently having a good time playing with her. He’d pull his hand away every few seconds, probably just to hear her beg.

  “Is this all because I said no to dinner that first day?” she asked. “You have to make me need you? For payback?”

  He paused, and not for the same reason as before. “Cara, do you not get that I am into you?”

  No, she really didn’t. Even now, in this bed, naked. But it was nice to pretend. “Sure.”

  “You don’t. You’re going to make me prove it.”

  He put out a hand, searching for something on the little bedside table, and then he held up a foil packet. “This still ok?”

  Cara nodded, her breath fast.

  She watched as Mal rose to his knees and rolled the condom on. The muscles of his torso rippled when she put her hand on him and stroked his cock through the slippery latex.

  “Wow, Cara,” he said, pushing her hand away. “Paws off me, or this is going to be over a little too fast.”

  “You that close too?” she asked.

  He actually laughed. “Do you have any idea how sexy you are right now? I deserve a medal for not coming the second I got your clothes off.”

  She smiled and cupped her breasts with her hands. “Because you like these?”

  Mal let out a huge breath, his eyes widening. “Cara.”

  “You want me on top?” she asked, suddenly feeling bold.

  “Next time. This time I’m on top.”

  Figures, she thought.

  A second later, he was lying over her, his left hand by her shoulder, his arm bracing his body to avoid crushing her. His right hand slid under her ass and lifted her up a little, angling her body to meet his cock.

  She was so wet that he slid into her without the slightest resistance, and she heard him groan at the same moment she did.

  “Oh, yes,” she breathed, even as her body contracted around him. She was coming again. Was that all it took? Was she that ready for him?

  Mal’s breathing quickened. “This good for you?”

  “It’s fantastic,” she moaned, raising her hips to meet his.

  “You’re coming?”

  She gasped out her yes, and then smiled, too satisfied to be shy. “You feel great.”

  He withdrew a bit and thrust again. “How about now? It’s not too much?”

  “Still great. Don’t stop.”

  He didn’t stop, and Cara wanted to scream with how good it made her feel. “Faster. Harder.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’m not fragile. Fuck me, Mal.”

  He shifted his body, gripping her ass harder. “You asked for it.”

  Yes, she did, and she’d ask again, because Mal was amazing. He went fast, and hard, and rough. Cara reached one hand down to touch herself, sparking an aftershock just as he gasped her name. Mal went still as he came, then closed his eyes and sighed, pulling out.

  He climbed out of bed long enough to get rid of the condom and clean himself up. Then he slid back in beside her, pulling her to him. “Get over here,” he muttered.

  Cara rolled to half lie on him, and smiled when she felt his fingers in her hair. Then his lips brushed her forehead, and her post-sex satisfaction turned into surprise. Mal didn’t seem like the affectionate type.

  “You liked that?” she asked.

  “You fucking kidding me?” was his response.

  She giggled. Now that sounded like Mal.

  They lay together, both relaxing. Cara didn’
t say anything more, because she learned long ago that guys weren’t chatty after sex. In fact, if Mal stayed awake for more than three minutes, she’d award him his medal.

  She never got to confirm it though, because she fell asleep two minutes later.

  Chapter 15

  Mal drifted in the lightest layer of unconsciousness, perfectly content to stay there. He was in bed with Cara, and he wasn’t fully awake or asleep. He should have passed out after the sex they’d just had. Mal couldn’t remember the last time a girl had gotten him that hard. Cara was amazing. The way she tasted, the way she moved, the way she said what she wanted and didn’t want, the way she teased him with her tits at the end. But most of all—and he was never going to tell her this—her hair. He loved the way her red hair looked on the pillow, the way it grazed her shoulders. Sexy and pretty and feminine. It suited her perfectly.

  She was still lying on her side, curled up on him. He slid one hand over her back and down to her hip, then, because he couldn’t resist it, he cupped her right ass cheek. Damn. Curvy Cara was hot. He felt like he’d missed a memo.

  Of course, Cara wasn’t around before a couple of months ago. And she’d be gone in another month. However long it took to finish the woodwork on the house.

  He hoped she enjoyed the sex as much as he did, because he wasn’t nearly done with her. There were more positions to try, there was more sweat to lick off, there was more Cara to bring to climax so that he could see her eyes go soft and dark, the pupils dilating in an unmistakable sign that she’d found the peak he wanted her to reach.

  He always wanted his partners to have a good time, but he rarely needed to prove himself in the way he was desperate to do tonight. Maybe just because Cara was harder to get? He wasn’t used to needing to catch a woman’s attention.

  Or maybe it was the hint that Cara had settled a few too many times. That she didn’t expect much from any guy because she’d had bad luck in the past.

  Was he just trying to restore her opinion of men in general?

  No. Because the thought of her with another guy made him want to strike out, hard.

  What is that about? he thought. Mal was not the possessive type.

  Hazy images formed in his brain, sort of like a dream. Mal fought against it just a bit, because he didn’t want to fall asleep quite yet, not when he was enjoying being exactly where he was right now.

  And yet, there was something intriguing about the feeling, and he finally followed the impulse to go a little further into it.

  It was autumn in the dream, not as far into the season as in real life. But the trees wore red and orange, and the sky above was marbled blue and white as thin ribbons of clouds striped the air. Mal heard voices ahead of him. He dream-walked forward—the sort of easy movement only dreams have, gliding like a ghost to wherever you were supposed to go.

  He rounded the corner of a house, and a huge green lawn opened in front of him. Kids were running around, chasing each other and shrieking with joy. A dog barked happily, attempting to herd the kids like sheep and failing to do anything but roll in the grass.

  “Hey, everyone! Over here!” a familiar voice called out.

  Mal’s attention shifted to the house.

  There was Cara. A little older. Her hair a little darker, more auburn than red. The kids all ran to her, and the dog followed. Three kids. Two girls and a boy, the girls redheaded like her. The boy darker, a little taller.

  She knelt down, laughing. The kids swarmed, more like balls of energy than humans, giggling all the time.

  Those kids are hers. Cara hugged one of the girls, and Mal felt almost jealous of the love that arced between her and the child. He missed his mom like hell, and the vision, beautiful as it was, still held some pain for him.

  She’s going to be all right, he thought, suddenly aware that he was seeing not just a dream but a glimpse into Cara’s life along the line. The atmosphere around him shimmered and shuddered, and Mal felt a tiny trill of fear as he understood he’d walked into the otherworlds.

  He told himself to calm down. There was no danger here, not in this dreamworld, not when his physical body was safe in his own home.

  He refocused on Cara and the kids, hoping to regain the calm from before.

  But now the kids were gone, and the dog was gone, and the intensity of colors in the lawn and sky faded. Cara stood there, looking exactly like she did in real life, down to a plaid shirt he recognized and the tantalizing glint of metal at her neck. She was wearing the charm he gave her. Good.

  She was gazing out over the lawn and into the woods beyond, unaware of him. Mal willed himself closer. He lifted a hand to touch her…and her red hair turned redder. Into flames.

  Smoke blossomed all around him, swelling up from the ground and pulsing like clouds in the air, obscuring Cara as she was yanked away from him, backward into the house.

  Mal tried to reach for her, grab her away from whatever had her, but he was too slow, too scared to plunge into the flames flaring up between them.

  Cara! His howl echoed through the dreamworld, but there was no answer, only a sense of overwhelming fear and pain. He closed his eyes, wincing from the heat of the fire, his feet cemented in place as panic turned his body to stone. He was never, never going to get to her, not with the fire in the way. Mal hated fire. It turned him into a child.

  He opened his eyes, telling himself he’d get over it this time.

  But the flames were gone.

  The house was gone. There was nothing left but a pile of ash.

  And in the middle of the ash, a body.

  Cara’s body.

  He saw her burned and broken on the ground, and all around, ashes of what he knew were all the things she’d worked so hard to create. Beautiful carvings and panels of inlaid wood, now destroyed along with their creator.

  This is your fault.

  The thought came from outside him, and Mal felt the hit in his gut as he understood the words.

  You will be the death of her.

  Mal woke up, wrenching his real eyes open, wishing desperately to move, but his body felt like lead. He hadn’t had a nightmare that bad since the first year after his parents died.

  It wasn’t a nightmare.

  He ignored the nasty voice inside him.

  Mal looked over to see Cara deeply asleep beside him, her features relaxed, and her mouth open a little. Her eyelashes fluttered, signaling a deep dream. She looked perfect and lovely, and he couldn’t stand to remember the hideous image of her skin cracked and burned. What could possibly want Cara dead? She was an artist. She made beautiful things and she hurt nobody.

  But he couldn’t rid himself of the idea that something wanted—even needed—Cara to die.

  He had to get away. Far, far away from Cara, from the memory of flames, from the heat her body gave off.

  He eased himself out of the bed, praying to every saint he could think of to keep Cara safely asleep. A glance at the clock told him a couple hours had passed. His walk into the otherworlds must have lasted much longer than it seemed.

  Mal dressed in the first things he could find on the floor. Then he snuck downstairs, like a thief in his own home. He grabbed the keys to Dom’s motorcycle just as a black shape drifted in front of the doorway.

  Behemoth. Blocking his way.

  “Dude, let me out. I gotta go.”

  Where?

  “Anywhere. I just need to drive.”

  She is still here.

  “Yeah, she’s asleep. Keep an eye on her, ok?”

  I watch the creature while you run away? How brave you are.

  “Please shut up. And she’s not a creature. She’s a woman.”

  We are all creatures, created by chance and destined to be destroyed.

  “You’re a ray of sunshine, you know that.” Mal moved around the cat and opened the door. “I gotta get out of here.”

  The bike glittered in the faint glow of the night sky. Mal needed to move, to get out of his head, to feel the wind rush
around him so loud that the sound of fire was drowned out.

  He’d forgotten a helmet. Oh, well. He swung one leg over the bike. Started it, revved the engine just to get her moving.

  And then he tore out of there.

  * * * *

  Cara slept better than she had in ages, wrapped up in hazy, pleasant dreams that meant utterly nothing and made her feel like her soul was swathed in cotton candy. She woke up alone in Mal’s bed and sat up. The clock on the table said it was 5:00 a.m.

  The space next to her was cold. Mal must have got up a while ago. Maybe he was attending to the cats. Cara saw a bathrobe hanging from the back of the door, and she hoped he wouldn’t mind her borrowing it. She shrugged into it and crossed the hall to the bathroom.

  One steamy shower later, Cara emerged feeling clean and smugly satisfied from her previous evening of red-hot sex.

  She heard footsteps in the hall and stepped out with a smile for Mal.

  Except that it wasn’t him standing there. “Holy crap! You’re not Mal.” Cara grabbed the edges of the robe tightly to her chest, feeling horribly naked despite the floor-length fabric.

  “Nope,” the guy said, just as alarmed. “I’m Lex. His brother.” He was smaller and skinnier than Mal, but the resemblance was there, all right.

  “Oh. I’m…Cara. And I’m going to get dressed before I say anything more, if that’s ok?”

  “Sounds like a really good plan,” the guy agreed. Not once did he look directly at her, just as embarrassed by the situation as she was. “I’ll be downstairs in the kitchen.”

  Cara dressed super fast and almost ran down to the kitchen, where Mal had to be. And then everything would make sense.

  But he wasn’t there either.

  Lex was talking to Behemoth and Pumpkin, asking them about what happened while he was gone.

  “Do you regularly talk to cats like they’re people?” she asked.

  “Uh, no. Not regularly. Except our cats.”

  “Because you know them?”

  “Sure.”

  “How about dogs?” she asked then.

  “What about them?”

  “Do you talk to them like people?”

  “My conversations with dogs tend to revolve around the question of who’s a good boy. Or girl. And I gotta say, it’s amazing how often the best boy—or girl—is right there in front of me.”