by Ciana Stone
There was no shyness or hesitation on her part. Her tongue warred with his as she ran her hands over his chest and then lower. Reese broke free of the kiss and lowered her head to trace her tongue down the center of his chest, all the while working his underwear down.
When she took him in her hand, fire swept through his mind, obliterating every other thought but wanting her. He grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her up, cupping her firm rear as she wound those mile-long legs around him. Her fingers dug at the top of his shoulders as her lips sought dominance over his.
Long and slow could come later. Right now, he couldn’t fight it. Her sex was wet against his belly, her lips hot on his and small sounds came from her throat. Mathias turned, backed her up against the refrigerator and reached beneath her to guide himself in. Reese threw her head back, banged it against the refrigerator and screamed. "God yes!" as he slid inside her.
After that, there was no room or time for thought. It was just them, locked in a primitive dance of mating, all at once wholly physically and entirely emotional. He’d never felt anything like it. It was overwhelming and irresistible.
"Oh god, yes" The volume of her voice increased with each word, meeting him stroke for stroke, her body vibrating with the onset of orgasm. "Yes. Yes. Yes."
One final "Yes" turned into a full-blown scream of pleasure.
And in almost the same instant came another sound.
"For god’s sake, Reese. I could hear you halfway to Cotton Creek!"
Mathias went stone-cold still and looked over his shoulder at the door. There stood a woman he'd never seen before with a grin on her face.
"Ever hear of knocking?" Reese growled, and when Mathias tried to disengage, she swatted at him. "No, don’t you dare move. Naomie, wait for me in the living room please."
"Sure thing." The woman gave them a smirk, turned on her heel and disappeared around the corner.
"Naomie?" Mathias asked.
"Remember that woman I've been trying to get here for the project?"
"Oh, so what's she doing here? At my house, I mean?"
"I told her that's where I'd be and gave her directions. She was supposed to call when she landed to let me know she was on the way."
"I can hear you, you know." Naomie's voice came from the other room. "And I did call. Maybe you were ... occupied, because you didn't answer."
Reese looked at Mathias. "It's possible. As soon as I got here, I took a shower and started getting ready. I never even thought about checking my phone."
"Well, she's here now, so maybe we should get dressed, and you can introduce me."
Reese smiled. "I'd be happy to."
"You think this is funny, don't you?"
"Honestly, yes, a little and seriously, a man like you can't be embarrassed about a woman seeing you naked?"
"Oh, why's that?"
"Because you're next level hot, big guy." Naomie's voice had him looking at Reese in surprise and her bursting into laughter. He shook his head and tried not to laugh but lost the battle.
"Come on." Reese slid down his body and grabbed his hand to lead him to the bedroom. Ten minutes later, they headed for the living room.
Mathias wasn't sure what to expect and still was a little uncomfortable about what Reese's friend had walked in on. She was sitting on the rug in front of the fireplace with her legs crossed beneath her, fiddling with her phone. She stood as they entered, walked over to Reese and kissed her. Right on the mouth. Reese didn't seem at all taken aback by it. She just hugged Naomie after the kiss ended.
Reese's friend looked nothing like the super brain Reese claimed she was. About five, eight, he'd guess, slim but busty, she dressed like something out of the seventies or what some called bohemian. She wore a flowing gauzy skirt that fluttered around her legs and a thin strapped top that hit her mid-torso and was topped with an off the shoulder, almost transparent shirt tied at the waist.
Her hair was long, halfway down her back, sleek and black. He couldn't figure out her ethnicity. Her skin tone was dark like maybe she had Indian blood, but her eyes were a pale green. Whatever her ancestry, she was exotic and gorgeous.
"Wow, you look great, Reese," Naomie said and cut a look at Mathias. "I'm guessing that's due in part to you. Hi, I'm Naomie."
"I'm sorry. Matty, this is Naomie Roma Taylor – Doctor Taylor, three or four times over. Naomie, Mathias Gray Horse, SEAL and seriously talented metal artist."
"Not to mention seriously hot and handsome," Naomie added and stuck out her hand to Mathias. "It's an honor, sir, and thank you for your service."
"Thank you, ma'am. It's an honor to serve and a pleasure to meet you."
"If in less than a desirable manner. Sorry about that. I didn't know –
"That's my fault," Reese interrupted. "I didn't tell Naomie I'm staying with you."
"But now I know, so congrats and oh, hey, I brought liquor." She knelt and fished out a sealed bottle of top-shelf tequila from one of her bags.
"Uh, we haven't eaten yet," Reese said.
"Then we're on even footing. Neither have I. Where are your glasses?"
"Kitchen," Mathias answered.
"I know the way." Naomie headed for the kitchen and once there, set to work breaking the seal on the bottle.
"Trash?"
Reese pointed, and Naomie disposed of the plastic, then set the bottle on the table. Mathias brought three shot glasses and put them on the table as well. "Ready?" Naomie asked.
"As I'll get," Reese replied. "Matty?"
"Have at it."
Naomie poured three shots and raised her glass. "To Reese who has not only achieved her life's work but found what she always dreamed of and would never admit."
"What's that?" Mathias asked.
"You, big guy. Love. So, raise your glass."
They did and then drank the shot. Naomie blew out a breath and poured another round. "Okay, so what's the scoop, girl? Do I have to pass an interview or interrogation or what?"
"No. You just have to impress the partner with your brilliance."
Naomie made a face and tossed back her shot. "So, I need to put on the act, eh?"
"Act?" Mathias asked.
"Use big words and impress them with my list of degrees and accomplishments."
"Are there a lot of those?"
"More than some, less than others, I suppose."
"She's being modest," Reese said. "Naomie graduated high school at the ripe old age of thirteen and undergraduate at fifteen. She had four doctorates by the time she was twenty-five."
"Wow," Mathias didn't have to pretend to be impressed. "That's amazing, but why four?"
"Because I had no clue what I wanted to do and still don't for the most part. I guess my heritage comes out in my need to move intellectually rather than physically although moving from place to place does have its appeal."
"I don't get it."
Naomie poured them another shot. "My mother, Lavina was the product of a Gypsy mother and an Indian—dot not feather—father. She was working in London when she met my father, Steven Roland Taylor, a man from a good Kentucky family who raised thoroughbreds, on holiday after graduating college. They were married before his holiday ended.
"Mom always teased that I had more Gypsy blood than she because I was never still as a child and went on my first walk-about at five. I left before they got out of bed and was found two days later almost at the county line.
"After that, they kept close tabs on me and steered me toward intellectual travels so to speak. It stuck I guess, so when I finished one subject, I traveled to another."
"How did you and Reese meet?"
"I was a lab instructor working on my last degree when she was at MIT. We met when she was in her junior year and were close for several years until I left and went back to Kentucky."
"What did you do there?"
"Take care of my mother until she died. Then I hung around another couple of years to help my father with his breeding program."
> "I'm sorry. Is your father still alive?"
"He is. Remarried and with two more kids who are pretty amazing people."
"And you built the prototype?"
"I did."
"So, you believe in what Reese wants to do?"
"Absolutely. But," she looked at Reese. "Are you sure you can go through this whole discrediting thing?"
"Yes. It's why I pressed you so hard. Coming from you, I know everyone will believe I failed."
"If you're sure that's what you want, I'll professionally eviscerate you."
Reese raised her glass. "Make it real, girl. My life depends on it."
"Literally?" Naomie looked from Reese to Mathias.
He nodded, and after a moment she did as well. "So be it. Here's to professional suicide and happily ever after, my love."
Reese clicked her glass to Naomie's and then to Mathias'. "Amen."
Mathias didn't comment but made a mental note to ask Reese later why Naomie would refer to her as my love.
Chapter Eleven
Reese finished drying the dishes, and Mercy put them away. Mercy had just finished moving into her new home, and since Mathias was busy with the war games at the training center, Reese accepted Mercy's invitation for her and Naomie to spend the weekend at the new place.
It was a beautiful three-bedroom home that seemed to exude comfort and serenity, but then it was Mercy's home, and as far as Reese was concerned, Mercy was a living example of real magic and goodness.
They'd all pitched in to cook dinner and Reese could not remember laughing more. They polished off two bottles of wine as they cooked and ate and then all helped with the cleanup. Naomie washed, Reese dried, Mercy put away, and they all talked and laughed. A particularly loud clap of thunder shook the house.
"Wow, this storm just isn't letting up, is it?" Reese asked.
"I'm afraid it will get worse before it gets better," Naomie commented.
"Says the meteorologist?" Reese asked.
"Really?" Mercy asked. "You're also a meteorologist?"
"I have a degree, but yes, I'd expect it to get worse."
"Well, fortunately, we have a sound roof and sturdy structure, full bellies and good company," Mercy said. "Anyone for dessert? I have apple pie I baked yesterday."
"I'm too full. Maybe later?" Reese responded.
"Same here," Naomie agreed and added. "I have to say it. You're amazing, Mercy. I've been here half a day and can't remember when I felt so at ease and relaxed. You put off these vibes that are..."
"Magic," Reese finished the sentence.
"Yes. Magic. It reminds me of my mother."
"Your mother was magic?" Mercy asked.
"Oh god, yes. She was so beautiful I could look at her all day. Her skin was darker than mine, and she had these gorgeous, dark eyes with the thickest lashes and most elegant eyebrows. I thought she looked like an Indian princess. Dot, not feather. She was Indian, in part. And gypsy.
"Anyway, her voice was musical and—enchanting."
"Was?" Mercy asked.
Naomie nodded. "She developed a rare form of cancer. When I found out, I went back home to be with her, and we had three years."
"I'm sorry, Naomie."
"So, am I, but I'm so grateful I had that time with her. In the end, she was so noble and filled with grace that it humbled me. I am so proud to be her daughter and hope I made her proud."
"I feel certain that you did."
The next clap of thunder not only shook the house but made the lights flicker. Mercy picked up her cell phone from the counter. "I should check on Molly. Trina is staying with her since Wiley is over at Clear Creek helping Deacon with the war games."
She looked at the phone and then at Reese. "Do you have signal?"
Reese checked as did Naomie. "Nothing," Reese said.
"Me either," Naomie added. "Lightning may have taken out a cell tower. We're lucky we still have pow—"
The lights went out before the final word passed her lips. "Okay, I'm going over to check on them." Mercy announced.
"We'll go with you," Reese volunteered. "Do you have a piece of plastic or something we can use to cover up with? Just to get to the car?"
"Yes, I have something in the laundry room."
Using their phones as flashlights Reese and Naomie followed Mercy. She had a couple of rain slickers that would fit her and Naomie, and an old duster with a hood she said belonged to Wiley. Fortunately, it fit Reese.
Armed with candles, they dashed outside and into Reese's car. The drive to Molly's was less than a quarter of a mile, but visibility was near zero thanks to wind that literally swayed the car and drove the rain in sheets.
Despite the jackets, they were drenched by the time they made it to Molly's front porch. Mercy banged on the door, and after what seemed like a long wait it opened.
"Oh, thank God," Molly grabbed Mercy's hand and pulled her inside. "Hurry up and get in. Damn, that storm is like something that's almighty pissed."
It took a few minutes for everyone to get dried off. Molly dug out clothing for everyone. Her clothes swallowed Mercy, but Reese and Naomie were able to wear the things she offered. They hung their wet things in the laundry room.
"I've got candles lit in the family room," Molly said. "Trina and Kaylee are in there and tread carefully, she went into labor about an hour ago. I watched the weather, and the storm was right over the area where the hospital is and headed our way, so I convinced her to wait until the storm passes."
"That might be awhile," Mercy said softly. "This thing is massive and isn't moving fast."
"Then keep your fingers crossed that her labor is slower." A loud boom of thunder punctuated her sentence. "Ouch!" She put a hand to her belly. "I know one baby that's pissed his sleep was interrupted. Come on."
They all followed Molly to the family room. The moment Reese entered the room, Trina bristled. "What are they doing here?"
"That isn't very nice," Kaylee said and almost immediately got a scared look on her face and looked at Molly.
Reese was grateful that Molly didn't scold Kaylee, but simply said. "They were kind enough to come over and check on us. I don't think you've met Dr. Naomie Taylor?"
"Doctor?"
"Not that kind," Naomie said.
"Oh. You're her friend?"
"Why yes, I am, thanks for noticing. And who is this beautiful girl?" Naomie looked at Kaylee.
"I'm Kaylee, and I'm almost six, and Molly is my mom and Elisi is my grandma."
"Elisi?" Naomie looked at Mercy.
"Cherokee for grandmother."
"Very cool. When my mother grew up, they called their grandmothers Dida."
Kaylee laughed. "That's a funny word."
"It kind of is, isn't it?"
"Are you Native American like me?"
Naomie smiled. "No, I'm Indian—well part, but the kind that's from India."
"What's the other part?"
"Gypsy."
"Like the people who ride in wagons and dance and play music and steal horses?"
"Kaylee!" Molly quickly piped up.
Naomie just laughed and waved it away. "Don't scold her. She's right in a way. A lot of gypsies have traveled in wagons, and they are known to sing and dance and steal horses, back in the day of course. But where did you learn that, Miss Kaylee?"
"YouTube."
Everyone laughed, and Reese gave a silent thanks for Naomie, who had successfully diffused a stressful moment. Even Trina laughed at Kaylee. That was until a contraction hit, then she stifled a moan and grabbed her belly.
Reese was no Doctor of Medicine, but even she could see how pale Trina's face was. She eased over next to Naomie. "Okay, what do you know about childbirth?"
"I have a doctorate in veterinary medicine, so nothing. Why?"
"It just seems like she's in an inordinate amount of pain for someone who hasn't been in labor long."
"Different people respond differently to pain. Some can take more than others."
<
br /> "Yeah, right. Okay."
Reese and Naomie sat on the floor and played board games with Kaylee. There was barely ten seconds between house shaking cracks of thunder and lightning strikes. Based upon the time between sound and flashes, Reese estimated the storm was less than twenty miles from their location and not moving very quickly. When Trina bolted to her feet and lurched through the room, she and Naomie rolled out of the way. Trina stepped on the board game, and sent pieces flying, her arms held out, reaching for support.
Molly jumped up to help, but Mercy shooed her aside. "Let me help you."
As strong as Mercy obviously was, Trina's weight was too much. Reese could see that. She hurried to get up and rush to Trina's side. "I'll help."
When she tried to wrap her arm around Trina, Trina screamed and shoved at her. "Don't touch me!"
"Fine!" Reese shouted back. "I was trying to help."
"I don't want your help, you freak!"
"Whoa, hey, enough, let's settle down." Naomie hurried to intervene, put her arm around Trina and spoke calmly as they started out of the room. "Okay, we've got you. Do you need to go to the bathroom?"
"No, you idiot, I just felt like—oh, Oh. Oh, god!" The last sound out of her mouth was a scream, and a moment later something splattered Naomie's bare feet. Naomie cut a look at Reese.
Reese knew what had happened but was alarmed to see so much blood. Surely, that wasn't normal?
"You're okay, you're okay." Mercy said. "Your water just broke." Mercy looked at Naomie and shook her head.
Naomie nodded and picked up the narrative. "We'll just get you to the bathroom and get you cleaned up."
"I don't want to have my baby here."
"The storm will pass," Mercy said. "Just try to be as calm as you can. It will help the pain."
"I'm trying. Can't you just take me to the hospital?"
"Let's just get you cleaned up," Mercy said.
Molly was on her feet, holding a small flashlight as she headed for the kitchen. "Where're you going?" Reese asked.
"To get something to clean up the floor."
"Is that normal? So much blood?"
Molly shook her head, and Reese could tell she was concerned. "You should get off your feet. I'll clean up. Just tell me where things are."
