by Jen Talty
Even though her sisters accepted this idiosyncrasy, they often made fun of her, or even rebelled and balked at her leadership.
With Brett, right now, she couldn’t form a coherent thought, much less speak, and she had no desire to control anything, except maybe making sure his lips touched hers.
Leaning into him, she raised her chin, gliding her hands across his lower back. His muscles twitching under her touch.
He cupped the back of her neck, pulling some of her hair into his hand, tilting her chin higher, before his mouth gently pressed against hers. A soft moan bubbled from her throat as his tongue pushed between her lips. The first time he’d kissed her, he’d already been a master of the art at the ripe old age of seventeen. She might not have had more than a few boyfriends back then, but Brett showed her how a woman should be kissed.
He pulled her tight against his chest. His body was thicker than she had remembered. Stronger too. His arms circled around her in a tender, protective embrace. His tongue explored the inside of her mouth, sending electric shock waves to all her nerve endings.
Thirteen years ago, they’d given themselves to each other, exploring each other’s sexuality. The first time had been awkward and perhaps a little sloppy, but the second time had been one for the record books. It had been as if they’d been made for each other. Their bodies intertwined like braided rope.
And it didn’t end there. In the span of eighteen hours, they would make love four times, each time better than the last. It felt natural to be in his arms back then.
Even more so now.
She dug her fingernails into his back, pulling his T-shirt from his pants, slipping her hands against his bare skin. Frantically, she rolled her tongue over his, trying to savor every second of having him so close again.
She knew she’d never forget her first.
But she never expected to have her first again, either.
He moaned as he pushed her back down on the bed, resting his weight on top of her as she wrapped her legs around his waist, feeling him grow hard against her.
She did her best to keep from grinding, wanting him deep inside. She knew what pleasures he could bring to her, and she wanted to experience them all.
His lips moved from hers, to her cheek, across the side to her earlobe, and down her neck. He palmed her breast over her shirt, rubbing his thumb over her taut nipple.
Moaning, she arched her back, tugging at his shirt. “Take this off,” she whispered.
He pried his lips from her body, raising up to his knees, and ripped the shirt over his head.
Gasping, she reached up and traced a long, jagged scar that went from the right side of his chest, down his side and around to his back. “Did this happen about a year ago?”
“You had a premonition about this?” He sat back on his heels, his hand covered hers.
“Not anything like this and it was more of a feeling that you’d been hurt, a sensation I chose to block."
“Good,” he whispered, kissing the palm of her hand. “I wouldn’t have wanted you to see or feel anything about that day.”
She sat up and kissed the top of the scar, then moved her way up his chest until she got to his lips. “Tell me what happened?” she asked, staring into his eyes, which swirled with a combination of lust and pain.
“It’s a story for another time.”
“I want to know." Her pulse raged as she recalled the moment she felt a crushing pain, jolt through her heart.
“Why?” He cupped her face.
She swallowed. So many confessions in one day. Truths she’d buried years ago in fear they would drive her crazy. “A little over a year ago, I bolted upright from a deep sleep. I couldn’t breathe. It felt like someone had reached into my chest and squeezed my heart until it stopped beating. It took me a few minutes to catch my breath and the feeling that something had happened to you slid across my pores. There was no premonition, just pain. I went to my sister Alexis who is a healer and she calmed me. I thought maybe I had a panic attack, but Alexis had been so drained from dealing with me, we knew it was more than a panic attack, only there was nothing wrong with me.”
“Wow,” he whispered as he fluffed a few pillows and rested his back against the headboard, drawing her to his chest. “I was captured on an unsanctioned mission, so our government couldn’t do much to get me back. My captors tortured me and then left me for dead. One of my team members hired Phoenix to find me and when they did, it was amazing I was alive. The doctor said it was nothing short of a miracle. The only explanation was that someone with healing powers had managed to find me, do just enough to keep my heart beating until I was found, only we never found out who, or why.” He kissed her temple. “I guess we know now.”
Her body shivered as she held him tight, tears threatening to break free. “People have tried to use healers remotely, but with little success.”
“We’re back to the perfect storm for a psychic bond.” He tipped her chin up with his index finger. “Knowing we have some sort of deep bond is cool, and it’s a turn on. But being connected to your sisters is just weird and it’s messing with my head.”
She smiled as she rolled over, straddling him, grateful he accepted their bond, but ignoring the latter part of his statement. They were never going to be forever, but they could certainly have a grown-up version of two horny teenagers having sex for the very first time.
He moaned as she wiggled, yanking her shirt off and tossing it to the floor.
“I always wanted the power to move things,” he said with a throaty growl.
“Why’s that?”
“So I could remove your clothes without having to struggle to unclasp your damn bra.”
“Oh, come on. You can’t still be having trouble with that after all these years."
His fingers dug into her ass and thighs as she continued to shift her weight ever so slightly, feeling him press against her.
“I see you’re still a tease,” he said, holding her steady. “Please remove your bra for me?”
“You think because you said please, I’m going to do it? Not on your life buddy. You want it off. You take it off.”
He growled, raising his hands, gliding his fingers across her skin.
“One handed,” she commanded. “Without looking.”
He cocked his head. “I remember what you like to have done to your breasts, so you’re going to want to take off that article of clothing."
“You really still can’t do it?”
His inability to undo her bra had led to the awkwardness of their first time, then it became a joke by the third time.
He raised his palms toward the ceiling. “Two handed, leaning over your shoulder, looking.”
“Fine, you can use both hands.” She’d never met a man who liked to talk as much as Brett did during sex. She thought it had been a nervous thing with him, considering neither of them knew what they were doing, but being with him again, it just felt right.
And she liked it.
Perhaps a little too much.
He smiled like the devil the moment he knew he’d collected a soul. Sitting up, Brett kissed her shoulder and reached around her back.
Two seconds later, her bra had been tossed to the floor and the palms of his hands cupped her breasts.
“So good to see the girls again,” he said, his thumb fanning over her nipple.
“Oh, my, God.” She arched her back and clutched his head. “You’re lucky that feels way too good or I’d be slapping you for calling them the girls.”
His hot breath tickled her skin as he let out a small laugh. “You didn’t like it when I called them that the first time we unleashed them.”
“Can we…. oh, my.” She moaned as he sucked her nipple into his mouth. Talk about feeling like she’d come home. A warm shiver shot from her toes to her belly, creating a tingle deep in her core. Her eyelids fluttered as he went from breast to breast, giving each one the attention they craved. She stared at him, her fingers gliding through
his thick hair. She could watch him toy with her body all day.
She remembered opening her eyes during their first encounter. Her cheeks flushed as they made eye contact, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away, and neither had he. She’d watched his eyes dilate with passion as he came inside her and her climax rippled across her stomach a few moments later like waves crashing violently against a break-wall. To say her first time hadn’t been the best would be a down right lie.
That night she went from being a young girl who lost her virginity, to becoming a sensual woman with needs and desires she demanded be fulfilled.
Pressing her hands against his shoulders, she pushed herself from the bed, quickly shedding the remaining of her clothing until she stood uninhibitedly naked in front of him. He scooted to the edge of the bed, his eyes gazing over her body like ice cream dripping down a sugar cone.
His hands glided across her skin, awakening every cell.
“This time I have a name to call out,” she teased.
“Let me hear you practice.” He pressed his lips against her stomach. “Say my name.”
She smiled. “Guy I gave my virginity to.”
He growled. “Say it, Hazel.” His husky voice tickled her nipples. He slipped his hand between her legs, cupping her womanhood, two fingers resting at the opening, teasing her.
“I’d rather hear you say mine again.”
Dropping his hand to his lap, he looked up at her, his mouth hovering a scant few inches from the very place that made her a woman, his hot breath reminding her of the pleasure only he could give.
“Say it, Hazel,” he said with a devilish smile.
“Brett,” she whispered, knowing he was the kind of man who could tease her for hours until he got what he wanted, and her need was too urgent for that. “Brett.”
“Hazel.” He licked his lips. “My Hazel.” He brought her to his mouth and wasted no time bringing her the kind of sexual decadence that would make her body quiver and her muscles go weak. She stared at him as his tongue and fingers moved over her, her hips rolling with them.
Their gaze were just as fused as their bodies.
As she watched him, she tried desperately to stay in control, enjoying the familiarity and the newness of it all.
He lay her on her back and blanketed her body with kiss after agonizing kiss, not letting a single inch of her body go uncovered by his sweet mouth and tongue. Selfishly, she basked in his attention as he brought her to the edge of oblivion time and time again.
By the time he’d wrapped himself in a condom, her heart was beating fast and her vision blurred, except she saw clearly his beautiful blue eyes that drew her in like an inner tube floating down a lazy river.
She bit down on her lip as he entered her slowly, his gaze locked with hers. Cupping her face, his thumbs fanned across her cheeks.
“Ohhhh, Brett,” she said softly, arching her back, needing him more than she’d ever needed anything before. To be back in his bed, a gift she’d never take for granted.
A long, slow smile spread across his lips. “I’ve missed you.”
She gasped, but couldn’t respond as his mouth devoured hers in a hungry desire that catapulted them into a fiery frenzy of entangled bodies, clinging to each other, taking and giving everything they had, offering their souls as precious gifts.
A gift she’d cherish for all eternity.
Chapter 7
BRETT TUCKED HAZEL’S back against his chest and let out a long breath. He remembered every detail of their night together thirteen years ago. It had been the one sexual experience all other passion-filled nights had been measured against. His mother had always accused him of being a closet-case romantic. Of course she’d been the only person he’d ever confided in as to how he’d felt about the night a young woman came into his life, and with a snap of his fingers, disappeared. Even after his last girlfriend had found the pendant, he’d kept the romanticized idea that someday he’d meet Hazel again to himself.
Now that she was in his arms? An overwhelming feeling as though he’d come home mixed with the confusion of the reality of their connection, made him question his very existence.
He let his mind and body relax and drift off into a blissful sleep, which lasted until sunrise when Hazel’s body jerked as her fingers dug into his thigh.
“What is it?” he asked, but no sooner did the words leave his lips, did his mind travel quickly into her murky vision. He couldn’t make out much, other than a swirling of colors, mostly burnt orange and red…
Can you hear me? A female voice echoed in his brain.
I need to get a message to Hazel.
What the fuck? Every time he tried to respond, he knew whoever had entered his head couldn’t hear him.
He pulled Hazel as close as he could, seeing Savanah being dragged up a mountainside, the morning sun beating down on her face. She smiled, as if she knew someone was looking out for her as she led everyone through a maze of twists and turns that he hadn’t been able to put together in any coherent message.
Is this Brett? It is. I know you can hear me. Well, I think you can hear me. This is Willow. Tell Hazel that our client’s son has been found.
Dead.
And he wasn’t a son, but an operative for the North Korean government.
Fucking wonderful.
They only wanted to use Savanah…
His body shivered as the connection to Willow dissipated.
He could handle Hazel being in every part of his mind and soul.
But her sisters being in his space?
Too damn fucking weird. He could only hope that Willow couldn’t hear his thoughts.
“Brett?” Hazel said softly. “You saw that, didn’t you?”
He kissed her temple. “I did and I can only assume you heard Willow.”
Hazel rolled, facing him. “How’s all this happening?”
“I don’t know, but we need to be careful because I can feel it sucking both our energies and if we don’t find a way to balance it, our gifts will be rendered useless.”
“We need to go,” she said, slipping from the bed, her naked body shimmering in the dim light filtering through the window with daylight less than an hour away.
He went through the motions of showering and getting dressed, trying to ignore the pull Hazel had over him. It wasn’t that she’d been his first. He knew deep down that had he not met her in his youth, she’d still have the same effect on him that she did now.
What scared him was the connection to her sisters and what that implied.
They spent the next few hours barely speaking as they drove to the spot where her vision told them her sister was being held.
He pulled the vehicle into the parking lot across the street from a Ranger office in Vermont. Specifically, an entrance to the Long Trail, or in these parts, The Green Mountain Trail.
“What is it with these people and remote areas?” he asked, though more to himself then expecting an answer from Hazel.
“Don’t you prefer a remote location when viewing?”
“Nah. I can do it anywhere. The only reason for being in a private, secluded area would be the idea that the further away you are from other psychics, the less likely you could be blocked or manipulated.”
Hazel grabbed his arm. Her face turned a shade of white he’d never seen before, except maybe on a dead person.
His mind connected to hers with the brute force of a blunt object hitting the back of someone’s head. A swirl of colors followed by a flash of light, which nearly blinded him and smacked his brain. He held Hazel by her arms, trying to stay focused on the here and now and not allowing himself to follow her into her vision.
It was a fine line he walked between his ability and hers. Everything he’d read on psychics sharing talents or merging them sounded a little to hokey to be true. Then again, so did remote viewing the first time he’d heard about it, but after some training with a special group in the Marines, Brett learned to embrace his ability. With Phoenix
, they encouraged him to push boundaries and one thing they’d been working on was him bringing back objects from a view, something everyone considered impossible, even the experts.
But Brett had done it twice.
Each time, the act caused him to become ill and physically weak, but it was possible.
Savanah came into his minds-eye. She sat at the top of the mountain, earbuds in her ears, and a cell phone in hand.
Brett took a look around, but he didn’t see anyone else, even though he felt the presence of other beating hearts.
And by the way Hazel’s body shook in his physical embrace, she was obviously seeing something different in her vision, which left him wondering who was controlling his view, because he certainly wasn’t.
His physical body held Hazel as tight as he could, while he let his spirit side engage in the psychic realm. He felt the cool mountaintop air across his face. He took two long strides toward Savanah, but she held up a hand then pointed toward the sky. At first, all he saw was the blue sky lined with big white puffy clouds, but off in the distance, he saw a tunnel.
His tunnel.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
If he followed his view through Savanah’s, he could lose the physical connection to Hazel. However, he realized he was no longer in Hazel’s vision. He had to wonder if he ever had been, as he considered she could have just been a catalyst into her sister’s view...which honestly made no sense.
“Talk to me, Savanah,” he whispered, as he ran toward the opening in the sky. Before he entered the tunnel, he glanced over his shoulder. He saw himself, holding Hazel tight in his arms, kissing her forehead, his body keeping her safe from whatever she saw in her premonition.
Sucking in a deep breath, he ran through the tunnel, letting himself become engaged with the view. A mirage of lush greenery graced his vision until his feet hit solid ground.
“North Korea,” he said as he slowed his pace, getting his bearings. The view was cloudier than normal, but he suspected that had to do with the concept that he’d been pulled from his plane to Savanah’s, while still connected to Hazel.
