Midnight Storm (The Warriors)

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Midnight Storm (The Warriors) Page 9

by Laura Taylor


  "You’re a natural, Jessica Cleary."

  "A natural what?"

  He gave her a wicked grin. "Girl Scout."

  She stuck out her tongue and then nearly bit it when she began to laugh. "I guess a Boy Scout would recognize one."

  "Let’s get back to business."

  "Yes, sir."

  He tried to look stern, but laughter sparkled in his eyes. "What about extra flashlights and batteries?"

  She pointed to a water–proofed chest in the back corner of the cellar. "In there. I routinely come down here the first of every month, so I know the supplies are in working order."

  Dev stopped her at the top of the steps. Drawing her into his arms, he asked, "You aren’t upset by what happened between us, are you?"

  She shook her head, but she glanced over his shoulder instead of looking at his face. When he brought their hips into close contact, she felt the hard press of his engorged sex. A shiver of raw desire rippled through her before a burst of carnal hunger exploded low in her belly. She needed him inside of her. And she needed him in her life.

  The starvation rations on which she’d survived emotionally had to end. Denying that truth would be a fool’s errand, and she refused to be a fool any longer. Somehow, she would find a way to have Dev in her life again. And somehow, she would find the courage to admit what lay at the core of her fear where he was concerned.

  "Are you sorry you let down your defenses?"

  She felt his tension when he gripped her waist with both hands. "No, I’m not sorry."

  "Then why do I see fear in your eyes whenever you don’t think I’m looking at you?"

  "Because I am afraid."

  "Of what, Jessie? I wouldn’t hurt you for the world."

  "I’m not afraid of you. I’m afraid of myself."

  "Do you still want me?"

  She really looked at him this time. No more glancing away. No more dodging and weaving. No more denial. "Very much," she whispered.

  "I want you. I always will."

  She pressed her fingers to his lips to silence him. The heavy mist wet her face. She appeared to be crying, but her real tears remained locked in her heart.

  "Let’s take this slowly," she urged. "There are a lot of things left to say, but this is not the time."

  "I guess that’s a start," he conceded, worry and a hint of his confusion in his dark eyes. "But I’ll want more, Jessie. I need more."

  She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against his chest. Inhaling the mingling scents of damp leather and musk–scented man, she trembled with the knowledge that he might eventually leave her in anger and frustration, anyway. Losing Dev a second time would cripple her heart forever, and the thought terrified her. And yet, she would find a way to reveal all of her truths to him, and then she would let him decide their fate.

  "Jessie?"

  "I want you, too, and I also need more. It’s getting the more part that might be tricky, though."

  "That’s oblique."

  She nodded.

  The mist suddenly turned to a hard rain, and the wind began to gust above them. Dev cast a wary look outside, then asked, "Would you indulge me and wait in the storm cellar? I’ll feel better if I know you’re in a safe spot."

  "Absolutely not."

  With that she freed herself and jogged across the stretch of lawn that separated the inn from the guest cottages. Dev quickly caught up with her, and Jessica had to work at keeping up with his long–legged pace. She grinned at him. Although he tried to maintain a disapproving expression, he finally grinned back at her, smacked her fanny, and grabbed her hand.

  The thunder that rumbled loudly and threateningly across the ever–darkening sky drowned out their shared laughter. It also served to enhance their sense of urgency. Smiles gone now, they picked up speed and raced toward what remained of the small cottage that Dev had occupied at the edge of Willow Lake.

  7

  Despite Dev’s repeated assurances that he wasn’t in the least concerned about the destruction of his personal possessions, Jessica still felt responsible for his loss. He would have fared far better had Monica lodged him in the inn, despite her daughter’s predictable reaction to finding her former lover ensconced one floor below her private quarters.

  They returned to the storm cellar just seconds before the sky opened up with yet another battering downpour. The violent winds from earlier in the day returned as well, forcing them to close and latch the cellar doors.

  "I really will speak to my insurance man about reimbursing you for your clothes, books, and whatever else you’ve lost," she promised as she placed several candles in draft–free locations around the cellar.

  "Jessica?"

  She turned and found him standing close by, a hard look on his face. "Yes?"

  "I believed you the first time, so please shut up about my clothes. You’re beating the subject to death."

  Startled, she pointed out, "There’s no need to be rude."

  "I’m not being rude. I just don’t want to hear any more about my wardrobe. We’ve got more important concerns at the moment. Besides," he said, pointing to a stack of items he’d placed atop a small bookcase, "my cell phone and my computer are within reach."

  Aware that he was right, she flushed. Then, she busied herself with lighting the candles. She tensed a few minutes later when she heard a heavy object bounce off the closed cellar doors and then slam into the exterior of the inn. The tinkle of broken glass followed. Feeling helpless to stop the destruction of her home and business, Jessica closed her hands into fists of frustration.

  Dev came up behind her and slid his arms around her waist. She sank back against his body, and a new and different kind of tension filled her when he lowered his head and nuzzled the side of her neck. She surrendered to the feel of his muscular chest, flat belly, and sturdy thighs pressed against the back of her body. Once again, she felt cared for and protected. And, once again, she hungered for the man she loved.

  "Relax," he urged. "This storm isn’t going to end anytime soon, but we’re in a safe place, we’ve got enough food to hold us over for a couple of days, and we have a warm place to sleep. A lot of other people probably aren’t as lucky."

  She turned in the circle of his arms. "Sorry, but I’m a little wound up. I hate feeling helpless or useless."

  He smiled and tunneled his fingers into the thick, dark hair that framed her face. "How about wound tighter than an eight–day clock? I know it’s tough watching Mother Nature destroy eight years of hard work, but you can’t stop what’s happening out there, even if it is bugging the hell out of you."

  She smiled. "You have an alarmingly accurate fix on my personality defects."

  "Facets, not defects. Have you ever heard me find fault with the ways in which you deal with stress?"

  "Too many times to count," she complained.

  She discovered that she didn’t mind when he shook his head and muttered, "What am I gonna do with you, woman?"

  She already knew what he wanted to do with her, and she shared his desire. Neither did she object to his laughter nor the fact that she found contentment in the feel of his arms around her and in the sound of his steadily beating heart when she pressed her cheek to his chest.

  "Jessie, you’re a control freak. I don’t expect that to change."

  She eased back a little and peered up at him. Despite the limited light in the cellar, she saw strength and compassion in his eyes. Jessica softened even more. "I was told a long time ago that I lost control too easily, and it made me even more determined to be in control."

  "My theory is that you’re compensating for something else altogether. Remind me to give you the long version some time."

  Curiosity got the best of her. "How about now?"

  "You need a nap, and you’re going to have one as soon as I get these air mattresses inflated."

  She jerked free of him. "Yes, sir, Major Mackenzie. Will there be anything else, sir?"

  He yanked her right back into
his arms. "Yes, Ms. Cleary. There will be something else. I require a kiss."

  She scowled at him. "You don’t deserve one."

  "I think I do, in lieu of hazardous duty pay."

  She gave him a demure smile before she bestowed a peck on his cheek. "Satisfied?"

  "Should I be?" Dev demanded.

  She recognized the edge in his voice as pure sexual tension. She scarcely breathed when he trapped her hips between his hands, rolled his own hips forward in a thoroughly seductive manner, and allowed her to feel the hard ridge of flesh trapped beneath his jeans. Hungry for him, she felt her senses tremble with reaction.

  Jessica managed to restrain the wanton impulse that urged her to reach down between their bodies, unzip his jeans, and stroke him into a state of carnal madness. The very thought of such an overt display of her own hunger for him made her quiver with anticipation at what it would be like when they were finally skin to skin and heart to heart.

  "I think you need more than a kiss. I know I do." She pulled his head down with both hands, fastened her lips to his, and aggressively explored the taste and textures of his mouth.

  She left him breathless, and she just barely managed not to laugh out loud when he spent the next few minutes cursing under his breath and trying to walk off his sexual frustration. Hiding her own desire for him behind a neutral expression, Jessica sorted through the contents of the picnic hamper she’d brought with them to the cellar.

  She refused to allow Dev even a hint of the hunger that streamed hotly through her veins and made her ache all over. Although she longed for nothing more than his touch and his kisses, she turned on a small portable radio and adjusted the dial to the local station.

  The frequency of weather bulletins increased as the weather grew more severe, and the shrieking wind made conversation almost impossible. As a result, they both concentrated on listening to updates on the seemingly endless string of deadly tornadoes.

  Jessica didn’t expect to fall asleep, but at Dev’s encouragement, and only after she exhausted a limited list of useful things to do in the cellar, she finally yielded to the fatigue of a sleepless night and a stressful day. She stretched out atop the sleeping bag he’d arranged over a double–wide air mattress, holding onto his hand as she drifted off.

  Dev sat beside her, his back against the stone wall as he half–listened to the radio reports of devastation in various small communities. He recalled another time and another place when he hadn’t yet discovered the reward of simply watching over the woman he loved when sleep made her vulnerable. Once he was certain he wouldn’t awaken her, he slid down beside Jessica, drew her into his arms, and tugged a blanket over their bodies.

  ** ** **

  Jessica slowly awakened several hours later. She remained still as she strained to hear the current weather bulletin over the wailing wind and unceasing downpour beyond the secured doors of the basement shelter.

  Stunned by the mounting death toll and the damage already inflicted on the mid–South, she closed her eyes and savored the feel of Dev’s warm body aligned to her own. She listened to the sound of his deep breathing, and she recalled countless nights spent in his embrace, their naked limbs tangled intimately and their desire for each other the only constant in an ever changing world.

  Jessica felt a quickening deep inside her body. She shifted, intending to ease out of his arms without disturbing him. She hesitated when she felt his arms tighten around her even though he still slept deeply. She sighed when he gathered her back against his hard body. Her breasts plumped against his chest and sent a multitude of sensations spiraling into her bloodstream. Her hips cradled his hard loins and the prodding pressure of his sex turned her bones to soft putty.

  Trembling, she surrendered to instincts older than time. She wanted Dev, and she no longer felt compelled to deny her emotions or her hunger for him.

  The violent storm had already reminded her of just how tenuous life could be, while his presence had reawakened all of the fragile emotions she’d secreted for so long in her heart. She didn’t just want him sexually, although that part of their relationship had always been volatile and satisfying. She loved and needed him in a thousand different ways and for a thousand different reasons.

  Arching into him, Jessica felt the strength of his body’s hunger for her. Her own desire instantly escalated. Bringing her fingertips to his hard cheek, Jessica stroked the side of his face.

  She listened to the low moan that escaped him, and she recognized the meaning of the earthy sound. She’d heard it many times before in what now seemed like another lifetime. Jessica didn’t pull away from the possession inherent in his touch when he closed his hand over her hip.

  "Jessie…"

  Aware that he still slept deeply, she studied the harsh lines of his angular face. He frowned suddenly, and then he muttered her name again. Tears filled her eyes at the wealth of sadness and regret she heard in the sound.

  Oh, Dev, how can I live my life without you? she wondered.

  An instant later he inhaled sharply, muttered something unintelligible, and dug his fingers into her hip once more. Leaning forward, Jessica gave in to the need thriving within her to convey her love.

  She trailed the tip of her tongue along the seam of his lips. And while she told herself that she was just trying to ease his distress, she knew she lied. She needed to alleviate some of her own distress. Angling her head, she pressed her lips to his and dipped her tongue into the heat of his mouth.

  He responded instantly, and she felt his response right down to her toes. He stiffened, arched into her with a jerk of his hips, and breathed her name into her mouth. Then, he took control of her tentative kiss, intensifying it to white–hot passion in the space of a heartbeat.

  "Tell me I’m not dreaming," he said a few moments later.

  She smiled against his mouth, and then she laughed with the deliciousness of the moment. "You’re not dreaming."

  "Thank God for small favors," he muttered as he slipped his hands beneath the hem of her sweater.

  Holding her breath without realizing it while he slowly worked his way up past her rib cage to the sides of her breasts, Jessica experienced the coiling tension of sensual anticipation deep inside her body.

  "Breathe, Jessie."

  She did, finally, releasing the air burning in her lungs. Dev rewarded her by swiftly skimming her sweater up and over her head. He filled his hands with her breasts without allowing the lower half of their bodies to part.

  Jessica groaned and arched into his touch. Desperate to have equal access to his body, she freed him of his sweatshirt. She employed greedy hands in an exploration of his chest, broad shoulders, and muscled back even as she shivered beneath his knowing touch.

  Rolling over, Dev shifted Jessica atop his long, lean frame. He drew her forward, his hands at her breasts as he suckled first one and then the other. She breathed incoherent words of encouragement, and she surged against his jean–clad hips with an explosion of urgency that threatened to incinerate the control that normally ruled every aspect of her life.

  "This isn’t good enough!" he barked, sounding angry.

  All too familiar with the sound of male frustration, Jessica froze. Her heart suddenly felt like a chuck of lead in her chest. The man she’d married for all of the wrong reasons had been one very angry and sexually frustrated man by the time they’d parted.

  Dev abruptly sat up, his usual finesse absent when he shifted her off his body.

  Jessica crossed her arms over her breasts and warily watched him through half–lowered eyelashes. She felt the damp air of the storm cellar touch her with icy fingers and send a wave of chill bumps across her naked skin. The storm’s violent sounds seemed to increase in concert with the anxiety she now felt. She remained still and watchful.

  Dev glanced at her after freeing the button and jerking down the zipper of his jeans. Frowning when he noticed her wary expression, he said, "Jessie?" He reached out, but he closed his hand into a fist when
she jerked back from him. "What’s wrong?"

  "You tell me, Dev."

  He hissed a soft, regret–filled curse after studying her features for a long moment. "I’m sorry. Have you forgotten that I could never stand to have anything separating us when we loved each other?" His voice ached with tenderness as he gently drew her into his arms and cradled her against his chest.

  "You were furious a minute ago." She tangled her fingers together in her lap to keep him from noticing that her hands were shaking. "I recognize the sound of man’s anger when he doesn’t get what he wants from a woman."

  "The man you married?"

  She nodded.

  His expression hardened to granite. "Did he hurt you? If he did, I’ll kill the son of a bitch."

  "Of course not, but his anger was… hard to deal with, even though I deserved it."

  "You did not deserve it. And just so we’re clear on this, I’m not angry. Just needy as hell." He brought her head up so that he could see her face with the slight pressure of his fingertips beneath her chin. "Forget what happened when we were apart. No one and nothing else counts, Jessie. No one and nothing," he repeated.

  She felt one of the walls around her heart begin to crumble. "I was such a fool to think I could have a life with someone I didn’t love."

  "I’ve been a fool more times than I care to count, but all that’s over now." His hand trembled as he cupped her cheek and leaned forward to kiss her, very gently and very thoroughly. "Don’t you understand how desperately I’ve always wanted you? Being apart didn’t change what you meant to me."

  She stared at him, unable to speak.

  "I dream about you when I sleep, Jessie. I have for years. You’re a part of my life, and you’re never far from my thoughts. I’ve spent the last ten years thinking about the things we should have been sharing, and I remember every single moment of the times we did share."

  "Fantasies are usually better than reality," she reminded him in a voice nearly shattered by the regret his candor caused.

 

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