by Jayne Rylon
“That sounds like heaven. But I’m not sure if I’m ready for anchoring yet.” She shivered in his hold. Parts of her gave the all clear, most of them residing below the belt. Meanwhile, her brain shouted at her to take things slow and steady. She’d only earned herself more issues by jumping from the frying pan to the fire with Brad. No need to repeat that performance.
“It doesn’t have to be about sex, Brielle.” The steam practically rising from him proclaimed it could be, though. Tempting.
“How else?” She tilted her head, attempting to focus.
“You replay a happy memory. Think about it over and over while making a gesture. Like putting your hand over your heart or touching the tip of your middle finger to the pad of your thumb.” Demonstrating, he caressed her sweetly. “Becca would talk to you while you were doing this. She’d guide your experience and help set the parameters. Essentially, she’d put you in a trance if your mind was receptive. That’s not necessary. It does seem to make the tool more effective, though. After a while, you would come to associate the gesture with the feelings. Then, when faced with a panic situation you’d repeat the gesture and recall the calmness, happiness or pleasure.”
She blinked. It sounded too good to be true. For so long, her mind had only been capable of horrible tricks, not clever ones. Besides, she didn’t have something other than this moment strong enough to consider anchoring. The vision would have to be powerful to overcome her fear. Even she could see that. Some of her euphoria bled out, leaving room for exhaustion to creep in.
“Brielle?”
“I’m too tired to think about all of that,” she mumbled as she collapsed on top of him. His chest rose, sure and steady beneath her once more, and the beating of his heart under her ear enticed her to close her eyes. The circuit he drew across her shoulders, along her ribs and back to the beginning soothed her.
Under it all, she yearned for more. Though banked, the fire he’d lit in her still burned. Maybe they could compromise. “Any objections to making a happy memory I could use later?”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” he murmured as he eliminated the gap between them by nudging her chin up and reclaiming her mouth.
Drowsiness gave way to the heaviness of arousal. She perked up as he hugged her to his chest. Would he be disappointed with the most she could give tonight? Torturing him wasn’t her intention. “You don’t mind, right? Will you be…okay?”
“Does it feel like I’m unhappy right now?” For the first time, he leveled a look at her that said she might be crazy. “I’m positive this is where I want to be and what I need to be doing at this moment in my life.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re never uncertain?” She patted his cheek.
“I’m not. Usually.” A frown twisted his lips. “With you, that’s another story. I won’t risk hurting you. So I’m not quite sure of the best course of action. You fuck with my perspective. Have from the very first moment you scooted down the grocery store aisle and into my life. That’s why I called Becca in to help. Then again, I’m positive this has the potential to be the most extraordinary relationship I’ve ever had.”
“Do we have a relationship?” She tilted her head.
“We will, if I have anything to say about it.” Luke’s hand sank lower on her back until he cupped her ass. She shivered. “Do I need to persuade you?”
Her mouth opened to refute the ridiculous claim, yet nothing came out. Because he chose that moment to dip his fingers below the hem of her nightgown and touch the bare skin of her thigh. Thank God she’d shaved. Following their first kiss, she’d upped her regimen from alternating days to every morning, just in case. Funny, after all this time, she hadn’t been looking for someone.
And now he was here.
His other hand gravitated to her chest. He massaged her breast through the purple-polka-dot material of her pajamas while his head dipped, allowing him to dust more kisses over the hollow of her collar bone. Then lower to the top swells of her breast just above the fabric there.
When the fingers of his first hand wandered upward, prodding at the edge of her panties, she gasped.
“Brielle? Should I stop? Do you need to talk through this? Happening so fast. Just feels right.” He seemed to struggle to say more.
“Less chatting. No thinking. Lots more of that wiggly thing with your tongue and the poky thing with your finger. Right now.” She grabbed his lapels and refused to let go. If she was going to chase a tiger, she might as well pull its tail.
Luke didn’t disappoint. He slid the crotch of her utilitarian, white-cotton briefs as far to the side as he could make the fabric go. The damn stuff might as well be a chastity belt for all it budged.
“Here, let me help.” She lifted up enough to strip them off and fling them away.
Then Luke contorted his hand until she poised on the edge of a life-changing decision.
While he paused, she didn’t. She lowered herself onto him.
Both of them moaned when his finger pressed into her. Slickness guaranteed his thick digit didn’t cause her any discomfort. The moment he breached her, he sprang back into action.
“Jesus.” He kissed the spot below her ear, setting off fireworks in her system. “You’re tight. And hot. Soft. So damn smooth.”
His finger retreated then spread her wetness around her lips and clit, making her slippery. Each time he touched her, he slid and glided over sensitive flesh. She whimpered and clung to him, afraid of letting go now that she’d found him.
“I’m not going anywhere, Brielle.” He growled against her temple.
“Let me touch you too.” She squirmed until she could jam her hand between them, roving down his solid chest to the even harder ridge of flesh beneath the denim shielding him from her.
“Not yet,” he winced. “It’s not going to take much. I’ve been dreaming of this for days. Hell, weeks.”
“Me too.” And of sleeping, safe, in his arms. But he didn’t need to know that. No reason to frighten him off now.
And then she couldn’t speak, even if she’d wanted to. He examined all of her, tracing her valleys and folds, stimulating every inch of the area between her legs as effortlessly as he riled her heart with his innocent nuzzling against her mouth. Sweet kisses blended with the pure passion swelling inside her, reaching dangerously near her heart.
Reverence flowed through his caresses. He manipulated her body as though it was delicate and priceless, yet with enough finesse to have her seeing stars. A second finger enhanced his exploration. He filled her with probing strokes of his hand.
When she arched in response, she mashed their bellies and chests together.
“Off.” Her request was garbled by another drugging kiss.
“What?” He paused, as if afraid to move. Attentive to her needs, he appeared to evaluate her request.
“The jacket. The shirt. Off. Now.” She crumpled the ultrasoft fabric of his T-shirt in her fists and waited not so patiently for her demands to sink in. Understanding, she gave him a second to think past the lust fogging their minds.
“You’d have to be at least a millimeter away from me for me to shrug out of this thing.” He laughed at her affronted stare.
“Never mind.” She settled for sliding her hands beneath the cotton and gliding them up his sides. Full yet proportional muscles met her seeking fingers. She traced the bold slashes of them, which angled over his ribs.
“That’s what I thought.” He locked a hand behind her neck and drew her in for another series of bold smooches that nearly distracted her from the swirl of his fingers over her pussy. At least for an instant.
Tension gathered inside her when she realized how gently he coerced her into ecstasy. Though passionate, he invoked an efficient, liquid grace as opposed to the brute force and speed Brad had relied on to get her off…in the rare cases she’d found satisfaction at all.
Everything about this man was different. Beautiful, though she doubted he’d appreciate that thought.
&n
bsp; “Stop thinking so much.” His command held no ire, only coaching. “Go with it.”
Taking his advice, she retracted her hands until they landed on his waistband. She popped the top button of his jeans then ripped his fly apart, loving the sound of his zipper unknitting.
Their hands tangled for a moment, until they found the way they fit together best. Before long, she had reached inside his pants, finding him bare beneath. “You rebel.” She grinned.
He bit her bottom lip in a teasing warning.
She hardly noticed with the heft and molten steel of him overfilling her palm.
Until he upped his game, inserting three fingers inside her and massaging her clit with one of his knuckles. Dexterity was a skill he’d obviously mastered.
Brielle’s body clenched around him, inspiring a simultaneous moan.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” He breathed deeply. “I can smell you. I can’t wait to taste you. Soon.”
A shiver racked her. No one had ever offered to do that to her before. Her fingers squeezed him when she tightened. He groaned and thrust his hips, insinuating himself deeper into her hold.
The trust he gave her, to cup him like this, filled her with power. On top of him, with all the say, every decision at her mercy, she sank lower, burying his fingers in her as deep as they could go. Abandoning grace, she rode his hand, maintaining her grip on his cock. As she rose, so did her fist.
Within seconds, they both verged on climax.
“Brielle. Are you with me?”
“Completely.”
He stared into her eyes for a long moment, then sealed their fate by engaging her in a deep, sensual kiss. The combination of the open longing in his eyes, the gentle pressure bestowed by his mouth and the urgent tensing of his body beneath her combined to rocket her into orgasm.
Rapture went on and on as she strangled his hand, hoping he understood how much the exchange meant to her. No one had ever cared so much about her satisfaction. Not in sex. Not in life.
Grateful happiness exploded from her, leaving her sated and replete in the wake of the rush outward.
Between her fingers, he stiffened further. His cock jerked as he joined her, flooding her hands with every bit of the molten desire he claimed to have stored for her alone.
Finally, she got her wish. He nudged her to the side and stripped off his jacket and T-shirt, using the fabric to wipe her clean. First between her legs and then her hands. The sight of his naked chest was enough to inspire several aftershocks.
Neither of them could gather the energy to do much more.
They collapsed in a sweaty heap, still placing gentle kisses wherever they could reach.
A long while later, Luke asked, “Are you okay?”
“Amazing.” She yawned. “Sleepy too.”
“Change of scenery is another tactic for breaking the patterns leading to recurring nightmares.” They stretched out on the couch. He hovered above her, resting on one elbow while he brushed damp strands of hair from her brow. “You could try sleeping here. Any rest is better than none and this seems pretty damn comfortable to me.”
“Great.” Brielle grinned. “Because I don’t think I can move.”
“You’re welcome.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
She buried her face in his light chest hair as she laughed softly.
“Luke,” she whispered, “will you stay?”
“Yeah, you’re stuck with me.” He kissed her gently, scooped his arm beneath her and rotated them both so that he rested on his back and she draped over his chest.
Roaming fingertips, which skimmed across her shoulders, turned her boneless. She allowed herself to go limp, accepting whatever may come.
The nightmares didn’t revisit her.
At least not that night, with him by her side.
Chapter Seven
“Knock-knock.” Becca gave Brielle a verbal heads-up before she peeked around the corner of the cubicle. “You know, someone should really question guests before letting any old hooligan in here.”
“What in the hell is all that?” Satin, silk, lace and tulle erupted from Becca’s grasp.
“Dresses.” The perky psychologist grinned. “I figured you should have a few choices, though, personally, I think the light blue halter mermaid would look fantastic on you. Plus it will complement Luke’s eyes.”
“Are you even speaking English?” Brielle gaped.
“I was never much into clothes either.” She slowed down a bit from Tasmanian-devil-in-a-tiara to simply infomercial intense. “Or I guess I should say I couldn’t really afford to be. Then Kurt started buying all these pretty things for me, and let’s just say he created a monster. Plus, over the past year we’ve had tons of charity events to raise funding for more Dream Machine research. And you know how that goes, can’t be photographed in the same thing twice or people will talk.”
“That sounds horrific.” Brielle shuddered.
“It’s not so bad.” A sublime peacefulness crossed Becca’s face for a fleeting moment. “There’s usually lots of slow dancing. Anyway, I thought maybe you’d like to stop down at lunch and pick one out. You could use my office to change so you don’t have to worry about the bathroom here. Luke said it’s…challenging.”
“That’s a nice way to put it.” Brielle grimaced. “Sorry, Becca, I told Luke I wasn’t going tonight. Congratulations again on your award, though.”
“Oh, I know what you said. Luke spent almost a full hour whining to Kurt this morning, wondering how he screwed up. But unlike my husband and Luke—who is a really horrible pouter by the way—I understand why you turned him down. It had nothing to do with chemistry or rejection. No way would you have let him give you a ride to work this morning on his bike if you weren’t interested. By the way, I hope he didn’t have to stop and pick you up.” A corner of her mouth kicked up.
“I’ll have to remind him to drop me off out back from now on.” Brielle couldn’t help but laugh. “And no, we didn’t sleep together. Er, I mean, we didn’t have sex. Not really. It’s complicated, I guess.”
“Actually, Luke will make things simple for you if you let him. No sneaking required. Look, I realize we’re in a weird place considering Saturday.” Becca hesitated. “I won’t be offended if you tell me to butt out—”
“That’s not what I meant. There’s no reason to be tight-lipped when it’s all going to come out anyway, is there?” Brielle shrugged as she rose and circled her desk. “Please, why don’t you hand me some of those? I’ll help you carry them to your office. I feel bad that you’ve gone to all this trouble.”
“Don’t worry about that. It’s fun to have someone to share with. Since I was away from my sister a few years, and now she’s busy with her own college friends on campus most of the time, I haven’t had too many chances to do this sort of thing.” Becca smiled. “I’m asking you. Please come tonight. I’d like you to be there, and I’d love to see Luke as happy as Kurt and I.”
Brielle could relate. “I’ve never done something like this. Ever.”
“Wouldn’t you like to? Just wait until you see the trunk of Kurt’s car. It’s full of shoes. You can ride over with us and surprise Luke. I can’t wait to watch his jaw hit the floor.”
Becca seemed so proud of herself, Brielle didn’t have the heart to ruin her fun. Oh yeah, and she would kill to thrill the man who’d held her nightmares at bay through the second half of last night. She fingered the exquisite material of the beautiful blue dress Becca offered. “Okay, I’ll try. I just don’t know, though. I think you’re shorter than me without those crazy heels, thinner too. Bitch.”
They both cracked up.
“We’re not that different, you’ll see. It’ll work. You have a great figure. A bunch of these are stretchy and some I hemmed myself so we can undo the no-sew tape really easily.”
Brielle relented. “All right. I’ll come down at lunchtime if you really don’t mind.”
“Fantastic.” She leaned in for a one-armed hug, squa
shing some of the dresses between them.
Sunset painted the city an array of pretty colors. Glass buildings reflected streaks of citrus hues from orange to yellow with a few pinks splashed about. Bright lights dotted the skyscape, mixing natural light with fluorescents.
Brielle should know. She concentrated on the twinkling to distract herself from the tiny car they flew through the streets in. Focusing on the outside calmed the anxiety that built inside her despite the relaxing soft jazz, which floated from the speaker hidden in a door or the back of her seat somewhere.
“Becca, would you mind cracking your window a little?” She tapped the other woman on her shoulder.
“Are you too warm? Kurt usually freezes me with the air conditioning, so I have it set on something less than arctic.”
“You ladies have no idea how good you have it in those almost-nothing dresses. Try wearing a full suit and jacket in the middle of summer,” he grumbled, still with a smile. No doubt he approved of the tangle of crisscross straps and delicate yet tasteful strips of emerald silk that tied his wife up like a Christmas present he probably couldn’t wait to unwrap.
Brielle fanned her face. “Sorry, no. The temperature is fine. Although if you’re uncomfortable, Kurt, I could live with it cooler. I’m just having a hard time catching my breath back here.”
“Honey, you should have said something.” Kurt glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “I forget sometimes how small this car can seem. Luke’s always bitching because his long damn legs fold up to his chin when he rides in it. Says he loses all his cool points, grunting and groaning as he tries to get out with some semblance of grace.”
Now that she knew him, she could imagine him saying it. How he would sound, the bold smile he’d have on his face and the way his eyes would crinkle a tiny bit at the corners as he made himself the butt of a cosmic joke.
