by Cait London
Harmony reached for him and met his lips with hers.
She wanted him desperately to complete her soul, her heart, her body. Jonah was the missing part of her, and nothing could keep her from him now. She felt fierce and strong and wild, claiming what was hers, what was destined to be hers—
“I want to look at you, rosebud,” Jonah whispered unevenly, his hand trembling, sliding to rest between her breasts.
Harmony trapped his hand and shivered, her lips poised beneath his. She was desperate for him, for his strength to fill her, to complete the emptiness. “Why?”
“It’s a love-god thing,” Jonah murmured in a teasing tone against her lips and bit them gently. “We love gods like to see our desserts before we nibble on than.”
“Oh... I had other plans.” She looked at him sharply. “Are you teasing me, Jonah?”
“Sure am. Feels good, too. You can’t have everything your way, driving this rig too fast and not smelling the grass.” Jonah shuddered, his hand moving over her breast.
“That’s roses, Jonah,” Harmony corrected with a grin. “Smell the roses.”
“Uh-huh. Come here, rosebud.” He picked her up and carried her to the bed as if nothing could keep them apart.
That was exactly what Harmony wanted; he sensed her need for him in the small shadowy room. But as Jonah lowered her onto the bed, she had to ask, “Are you afraid to make love with me?”
“Mark isn’t in this bed,” Jonah said unevenly. “Now, do something fierce and loving, just like you look, rosebud.”
So she grabbed his shoulders and bulldogged him beneath her. In the next frantic seconds, she hugged him while he tugged off his boots. She pressed her breasts to him and held him while he struggled with his jeans. Then Jonah’s mouth was at her breasts, the buttons of the shirt tearing free as they strained to get closer.
Then he was hers, this magnificent... Love God, taking care to sheath himself in protection. Harmony wiggled closer to him, caught him with her arms and legs and tender muscles and held him tightly. Jonah’s hands gripped her bottom firmly and he arched against her, joining them deeply.
He paused, luxuriating in the soft warmth, in the tight clasp of her body around his.
Then Harmony began to giggle and Jonah frowned. “This isn’t supposed to be a laughing moment, rosebud,” he said unsteadily, his frown fierce.
But she was too happy, too filled with delight and wonder and Jonah. She eased slowly down to lay upon him and snuggled her face into his warm throat. She moved her hips against his, relished the fit of Jonah inside her. He groaned deeply as she smoothed his cheek with hers. She nuzzled his throat and kissed his nose. “Can’t a girl be happy when she captures a love god?”
Jonah began to smile slowly, enchanting her. His kisses were so soft, so tender, his hands stroking her gently, cherishing her.
The first storm hit her without warning, tightening her body and flinging her at him. While she reeled with the deep heat, the power that was Jonah, his mouth suckling at her breast, another ripple hit her. The ultimate sensations were so strong and perfect that Harmony stilled, cherishing the delight bursting within her. The next heartbeat, she was hungry, unable to control her desperate need to be closer to Jonah, to hold him and make him a part of her.
Pulsing pleasure burst within her, and Jonah was there, matching her hunger, her lover, her mate…
He breathed heavily, turning her beneath him and kissing her lips. She saw her image filling Jonah’s darkened eyes, the desire and the hunger riding high between them.
Had he given himself to her so fully, so beautifully? Had she taken and given her essence, her heat back to him?
Had they bonded, shattered and dissolved? Even now Jonah was taking her, hungry again.
She caught his tongue, suckled it and moved her body along his, demanding and giving... closer…
Harmony cried out at the pinnacle of their love, her eyes widening as Jonah braced, giving himself to her. She strained higher, catching him, holding him tight. This was how a man should love a woman, the fierce heat and passion riveting them, forging them together beyond this moment.
When Jonah eased, his eyes tender upon her, Harmony gathered him to her and cradled him.
How sweet this was, Jonah’s heavy weight lying upon her, his face resting in the cove of her shoulder and throat and his body still a part of hers. He kissed her tenderly, his hands cherishing her, while his heart slowed against hers. They had run fiercely through the deep mating of souls and bodies, and now there would be rest.
Harmony sighed, content now against him, her need temporarily satisfied because she knew that she would need him again. She knew Jonah would gather her even more tenderly against him as though claiming her forever.
Jonah stroked her breasts, kissed them, savored them slowly and Harmony floated gently in the scent of him, the warm strength so close and tender.
“I don’t know what to do now,” he murmured sleepily. He eased away slightly and stroked her hair back from her damp cheek. “Because I sure don’t want to wake up alone.”
Harmony was too exhausted to think. She settled close to him and rested her head on his shoulder. Jonah’s hand cupped her breast, his legs tangled intimately with hers.
Was she awake or was she dreaming? she wondered as Jonah gathered her back against him, his thighs hard beneath hers.
“Shh,” he whispered, comforting her with the newness of sharing her bed and what had passed between them. He caressed her breasts lazily and she realized that night had settled into her house, gently, softly, even as Jonah was making her a part of him again.
This time the loving was dreamy, warm, soothing and yet wild and fierce, she realized sleepily. She caught Jonah close, her nails dug slightly into his back and her teeth gently bit his shoulder. She gave herself to the ultimate, untethered delight of making love with him.
~**~
The shower’s hot water sluiced down Jonah’s sated body. He raised his face to the pulsing water and tried to think.
When a man awoke already in a woman, the loving already beginning naturally, it wasn’t a dream.
Harmony lay sleeping in her bed, tousled from making love with him. The marks and the tiny bites on his shoulder weren’t caused by a dream. When she’d arched against him in a heated frenzy, his tight knot of loneliness had come unfurled. This time she loved him with more certainty. This time... The time before was a dream. Or was it?
He wasn’t leaving before Harmony awoke and until he had some answers. Jonah dried quickly and entered the bedroom. Since apparently they’d shared real lovemaking, he could sleep beside her until she awoke.
In her sleep, Harmony moved into his arms as naturally as if she’d been his wife for years. She rested a moment, than sighed reluctantly and eased away, leaving the bed to shower.
She reentered the bedroom and slid into bed, snuggling close to him and sighing as though she’d never moved away.
Jonah prayed the child wouldn’t start crying before he dealt with Harmony.
~**~
“Harmony...” Jonah was saying as she tried to snuggle deeper into her sleep. She lay on her stomach because the muscles on her backside ached. “Harmony, wake up.”
“No.” She didn’t want to leave what had happened; she wanted to wallow and revel in the wonder and the beauty of Jonah’s loving. Harmony groaned slightly as she moved, her roof-climbing muscles protesting and her intimate muscles slightly aching. She wanted to stay wrapped in Jonah’s warmth, his scent, and reached to gather her pillow closer to her. She snuggled in her nest, fitting the night’s sweet memories around her and easing the pillow gently under her tender breasts.
She inhaled, the muscles of her arms, back and legs tight and protesting the movement. Lifting and welding her cupids to Jonah’s rooftops had pushed her strength to the limit. She opened her eyes, looked at the four posts of her bed and flushed as she remembered how she had... had... thrown herself into lovemaking. She’d taken Jonah, cl
aimed him in the most primitive way for her mate.
They were bonded now. And that meant hearts and souls kind of stuff, more than just sharing their bodies… Or at least she had bonded with him.
She breathed quietly as Jonah’s weight shifted the mattress beneath her. She sensed he had dressed and somehow that was unfair…
He was thinking; she could feel his questions thrusting at her; the room hummed with Jonah’s thoughts. They slid by her too quickly; she couldn’t grasp the shifting directions. Was he sorry? Was he afraid of her now? Had she taken too much?
Her fingers gripped the pillow as Jonah leaned down to lay his cheek along hers. “You must have strained something, planting those cupids on my ranch,” he whispered huskily in a deep, sensual tone that caught her broadside and pushed her alert buttons. “You’ve been groaning a bit.”
She’d purred a bit, too, last night as he held her. And she had the cutest little surprised scream when she... Jonah was thinking.
“I do not scream,” Harmony stated unsteadily. Couldn’t Jonah at least show her the courtesy of lining up her ducks or summoning her defenses against him? “Ah... Jonah, if you would step into the living room, I’ll be out in a minute.”
He nuzzled her shoulder, his beard rough and delicious against her skin. “No, rosebud. We’re going to talk right here, where we made love and where I’d like to make love again...”
She must not have frightened him too badly if he wanted a repeat performance. She tried to grab the sheet Jonah was slowly drawing off her backside. “Ah... Jonah, I really need to get dressed—”
She inhaled sharply as Jonah’s gentle, calloused hands moved over her shoulders, massaging them, his fingers finding the hinting knots and working them gently. He smoothed her back, massaging Harmony while she tried not to give in to the wonderful luxury.
Humor laced his deep drawl. “It’s good to know that you won’t be clumping around your monster this morning.”
“I just may,” she returned.
“Uh-huh. Your little groans say something else.”
When Jonah found the taut muscles across her shoulders, Harmony muffled the next luxurious little groan in her pillow.
Jonah patted her bottom affectionately, then worked his way down to the backs of her thighs. Harmony shivered and squirmed. Their intimacy was too new.
Jonah leaned down, nibbled on her ear and kissed her hot cheek. Harmony sensed an alert humming in him as he said, “Don’t start that thinking business now, rosebud. Just tell me, who is Mark? Because he’s not coming into our bed again.”
“Our bed?” Didn’t Jonah know she would never join, never bond with anyone after him? “Ah... Jonah... yes, we need to talk this through, but ah... I’d like to dress. Since you’re already dressed, I feel a bit disadvantaged.”
“I like it this way right now,” he returned firmly. Jonah continued to rub her legs, concentrating on the tight muscles of her calves. He was thinking, delving into and recalling their conversations.
“You haven’t said anything about a Mark to me. Pax hasn’t said the name, either. How did I know that Mark was a part of your life?” he asked slowly, his hand opening and caressing her bottom.
“Mark is my ex-husband.”
Jonah held her still gently, firmly when she tried to squirm away. He was too quiet; Harmony could feel him tense, felt his withdrawal from her. Her heart tore slowly, painfully, as he gently covered her with the sheet as though he were placing what had happened in the past, behind a locked door. The crying child hovered around him and Harmony knew that he had awakened to the mournful sound.
“I felt like we’d made love before this time,” Jonah said slowly, smoothing her hair.
“Yes.”
“What do you mean, ‘yes’? Exactly how could we have made love before yesterday without me knowing it?” The desperation rimming his voice caused her to ache. She gathered the pillow to her, shielding her aching breasts and eased to sit as she took his hand.
Not to be denied, Jonah slid his hand beneath the pillow, cupping her breast, testing its shape and weight. Then his touch slid down to flatten over her stomach.
“You were afraid last time and you’re still shy of me,” he murmured unevenly.
“You held back last time, but you didn’t this time,” Harmony whispered as he studied her, looking beyond the textures, the warmth and his humming, yet suppressed desire for her.
Jonah was sorting through his thoughts, his memories, shuffling them like cards, trying to find order and reasons. “That night I fell asleep here?”
“Yes.” Harmony placed her hand along his cheek, cradling the rugged contours as she ached to hold him, to shelter him from pain.
His face became lined with pain, his throat trying to swallow. “No. I woke up in my clothes. I’ve never loved like that, Harmony. Like I was claiming my other half, my bride. I dreamed I was in a flame with you.”
She eased a dark shaft of hair from his lined brow. “Yes. Just like that. A claiming.”
Jonah, be careful. Don’t try to understand... just accept...
I’m losing my mind, Jonah thought desperately, his fingers finding the delicate marks on his shoulders— Harmony’s claiming of him.
You knew about Mark because you read my thoughts.
Why was her ex-husband afraid of her? Jonah studied her, his expression dark and tight.
He knew I had powers. I frightened him.
Powers? She had powers... No, she said I have powers... that extrasensory baloney.
“If you can read my mind,” Jonah asked slowly and felt as though he were stepping through a loaded mine field.
“Mind field,” Harmony corrected gently and tried a little smile to warm his grim awakening.
“A little like an invasion of privacy, isn’t it? I mean even if it was true?”
“I wasn’t too happy stepping into your planned interlude with June when you picked me up that day.”
Jonah’s eyebrows shot up, then lowered into a fierce frown. “What?”
“I believe a nice way of putting it would be that you were on your way to drown your problems in June’s bed. She was your last resort. You’d reached the end of your endurance, you needed sleep badly and you were ready to try drastic measures,” Harmony said as gently as she could. It wasn’t easy admitting to seeing his thoughts about another woman.
“If you were in my mind just then— not that it’s possible— but say it was... it would be like a ménage a trois, isn’t that right?’’ he asked darkly.
Harmony blushed and shivered. “I wasn’t a participant. You were doing the plotting.”
Jonah considered this, traveling over that day in his mind. A dark red flush moved up his cheeks and the muscle in his jaw tensed repeatedly. She was fascinated by him, this blushing man, her mate, her other half. Her sweet Mr. Ho Ho.
Her tenderness tilted, lashed by Jonah’s dark stormy mood: bristling, ill-tempered buckaroo-macho thoughts about men not blushing. Women were sweet and shy and they blushed— but not full-grown men. He hadn’t heard the name Mr. Ho Ho. Yes, he had, that time at Christmas—
Jonah ran his trembling fingers through his hair. “You mean, you sat there in my pickup and tapped into— Okay, correct that: You tried to tap into—”
He was getting angry again, confused, hurting, aching with realities and nonrealities. But Harmony wasn’t too pleased about admitting to jumping onto Jonah’s sexual plans for June Fields.
“It had been so long, little sweetheart, that I had to plan out my moves,” Jonah stated aloud, in his defense. “A man forgets things.”
You certainly didn’t forget anything yesterday. You were quite thorough, and if you had a plan I didn’t know it— You just reached...
Masculine anger slapped at her: Because you think too much, that’s why. By the time you get through lining up your aura or ducks or whatever, taking everything nice and calm...
Then Jonah scowled at her and smiled tightly. “But that control busi
ness doesn’t work with me, does it? You like to be in control, keep things moving along smoothly, don’t you? You don’t like to have your feathers ruffled and you avoid showdowns. You’re scared now, aren’t you? Because you let go of the tiger-woman that no other man has seen. You wanted... you took, and nothing was according to schedule. Including those tiny red marks on my back and shoulders. Right now, you’re slightly—”
Jonah leveled a mocking look at her. “Aghast. Yes, we are slightly unnerved, are we not?”
“That’s enough,” Harmony managed as the anger clouds swirled around her. Jonah was too unsettling, too certain of himself, though his reading of her was on target. I can’t think when you... when you... start with me, she admitted in her defense. I like order and quiet, peace and tranquility. Not that you’d have any idea about the definitions of those words, buckaroo.
When a lady slaps her brand on a man, like posting her handiwork all over his ranch, she’d better watch it, Jonah thought threateningly.
“Holding cupids as hostages isn’t civilized,” Harmony stated righteously aloud.
“Do the words bonding and mating make sense to you? I mean, something about you and me?” Jonah asked tightly, as though daring her to say they did.
Harmony sat very straight and allowed herself just one tiny shiver. “Do I look like a dictionary?”
But she thought: If you don’t know, I am certainly not explaining bonding and mating to you.
“Do you know a Mr. Ho Ho?” Jonah demanded, plowing right into another mental field before Harmony finished with the current topic. “Someone likable... laughs a lot... overweight guy?”
“As in Santa Claus?” Harmony singsonged and blinked innocently.
“I’m leaving,” Jonah stated abruptly after closing his eyes. He wished he were in the past century, hiding out with nice, safe outlaws. One thing was certain, he wouldn’t lasso and bulldog this little off-center sweetheart. His thoughts jumbled and became images, like erotic feminine fingers smoothing and grasping Therapy’s big horn.
“I am not off-centered,” Harmony muttered, nettled because she was the only one who thought their lovemaking was deeply meaningful.
