Somebody to Love

by Unknown

  “Only one way to find out. Keep going.”

  “Don’t you want to work on it some more?”

  He shook his head. “I’m having more fun watching you. This is your first find. Go to it.”

  “Well, it’s not technically my first find. I did find those artifacts in those mounds by the lake.”

  Jericho laid a finger against his lips. “Shh. Those finds did not happen.”

  “We found those things in Junie Mae’s backyard.”

  “Okay, it’s your first official find.”

  She grinned and started in again. A few minutes later, they were looking at the etching of a lynx. “What does a lynx symbolize?”

  He consulted the book on his e-reader. “Keeper of the secrets or guardian. It could also be listener or guide.”

  “Hmm, what if the young brave and maiden were having a secret affair?” She met his gaze.

  “A taboo romance they had to hide,” he murmured.

  “A multicultural romance when that wasn’t cool.”

  “The conflict.”

  “The angst.”

  “The star-crossed love.”

  “Hey.” She waved the paintbrush. “That’s very romantic. I’m rubbing off on you.”

  He didn’t respond to her comment, but his eyes glittered with an enigmatic light. “Keep going.”

  They were midway down the handle now and Zoey got busy exposing the next totem. “Ooh,” she breathed a few minutes later. “It’s a scorpion. That feels ominous.”

  “The scorpion has been known to represent strength, transformation, passion, and chaos,” he read.

  “Boy. Girl. Secrets. Passion. Chaos. Sounds like falling in love with the wrong person to me.”

  “This story reminds me more and more of Little Wolf and Clarissa.”

  “Me too.” Zoey rubbed her palms together. “Imagine if this tomahawk once belonged to Little Wolf.”

  “That’s a big stretch. You’re getting carried away. Not only is that leap farfetched, it’s unscientific,” Jericho cautioned.

  “I wasn’t going to write a treatise about it for an anthropological journal. I was just having fun playing what if?”

  “Just making sure you know the difference between science and fantasy.”

  “You could use a little more fantasy in your life, Mr. By-the-Book.”

  “You think so?” His lips tipped up sardonically and in that moment he looked so arrogantly male that her womb twinged and twitched.

  “I know so.” Overcome by the startling sensation, she nodded, widened her eyes. It was odd, feeling these hot feelings and having to play it cool. “All work and no play makes Jericho a dull boy.”

  “So I’m dull now, am I?” He leaned in, his hard angular mouth far too close to hers.

  Her breath slipped shallowly over her parted teeth. Why couldn’t she stop looking at his lips? “Well, maybe not dull …”

  “Are we going to finish this?”

  For one startling second she thought he meant the kiss that seemed to be on the verge of happening, and then it occurred to her that he was talking about cleaning off the tomahawk. Her tongue was glued to the roof of her mouth, and it took a moment to dislodge it so that she could answer. “Sure.”

  Her hand trembled slightly as she picked up the paintbrush once more. This time she exposed a desert frog.

  Jericho consulted the e-reader once more. “The frog has numerous meanings. Rebirth or cleansing, hidden beauty, peace, adaptability, medicine, poor character judgment, and power.

  “Multipurpose totem. Maybe it’s meant to have several meanings in the context of the story, ya think?”

  “You’re at the bottom of the handle. There looks to be only one carving left.”

  “It’s like that last present on Christmas morning. No matter how enticing it looks, you don’t want to open it because you know when you do, Christmas is officially over. You want to savor it.”

  “As I recall, you always tore through your Christmas presents with rapid gusto,” he said.

  “I didn’t say I could ever resist opening that last package as soon as I got to it. I merely said I wanted to savor it, not that I ever accomplished my goal.”

  He grinned.

  “What are you smiling at?”

  “You.”

  Feeling oddly shy, Zoey put a hand to her cheek. This wasn’t like her. She didn’t have a shy bone in her body. “What about me?”

  “Do you realize you’ve been sitting in one spot for hours? I never thought you had it in you to sit still for so long, butterfly. You’re not the same girl who ripped through the Christmas presents.”

  “What time is it?” She shifted her gaze to the clock. “Holy crap, it’s one A.M.”

  “Is there a problem? You’ve always been a night owl.”

  “Yes, but that’s when I’m out dancing.” She pushed back her chair, got to her feet, stretched out her spine.

  Jericho stood too. “Which is why I’m very impressed.”

  “I’m so amped up over this find, honestly, I don’t think I could sleep a wink.”

  “Me either. I can’t begin to tell you how special this is for me, being here with you on your first dig, on our home turf. It’s—”

  “Like kismet,” she whispered.

  Their gazes were manacled. Jericho’s eyes darkened.

  “Zoey.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I think it was a really bad idea for us to have ended up here alone.”

  “Probably.” She lifted her chin. “We were so caught up in the mystery of the find that we didn’t fully think this through.”

  “It is heady stuff.”

  “We could leave now,” she said. “Get out of here before it’s too late.”

  “We could do that.”

  “We should do that.”

  “Or …” He slid over to turn up the volume on the radio. It was Bonnie Raitt singing, “Something to Talk About.” He held out his hand to her. “We could dance. Celebrate our find.”

  Foolishly, she tempted fate and put her hand into his. Jericho pulled her into his arms and two-stepped her around the lab. They stared into each other’s eyes, lost in the moment, knowing they were playing with fire but unable to stop themselves. If he had kissed her then, she would have pulled him down on top of her and made love to him right there on the floor.

  “How is it that Bonnie Raitt is on the same station as Linkin Park?” she asked.

  “It’s on my mp3 playlist.”

  “You put a song about best friends becoming lovers on your playlist?”

  “Looks like.”

  “When did you make this playlist?”

  “Before I left Utah.”

  “So before you even saw me again you were thinking …”

  “Yeah,” he said huskily, and spun her until she was laughing and dizzy, drunk with the joy and the dangerousness of the moment.

  “So we’re doing this.”

  “Not officially. Not yet. Not until the dig is over.”

  “I think the cow already got out of the barn on that one.”

  Jericho groaned, let go of her, stepped away, snapped off the music. “How did I get here again? Having a relationship with one of my students.”

  “It’s not the same thing, you know.”

  “What’s not?”

  “You and me. You can’t compare this to what happened with Mallory.”

  “No?”

  “No, and if you can’t see that, you’re a very myopic scientist. You and me are solid.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “We make a good team.”

  “We always did.”

  “See, you know it too.”

  He canted his head. “You’ve been thinking about this awhile.”

  “Since that night I kissed you outside Chantilly’s on my twenty-first birthday. I just tried to ignore it.”

  “So did I.”

  “The big question is what took us so long to get together?”r />
  “My fears.”

  “What are your fears?”

  “That I could never satisfy you for long. That you’ll grow bored and leave me for something or someone more exciting.”

  “Jericho, you have me endlessly intrigued.”

  “Is that only because you can’t have me?”

  She stepped closer, laughed. “Oh, I could have you.”

  He closed the gap. “You think so?”

  “I know so,” she murmured. “What I don’t know is how much longer I can hold out for you. All I want to do is quit the dig so I can be with you.”

  “And you’d lose your trust fund and let yourself down in the process. We can hold out.”

  “Not when I’m having naughty thoughts I shouldn’t be having.” She lightly touched his arm.

  He curled his hands into tight fists. “You’re not the only one.”

  “Seeing you in action today.” She shook her head. “Wow. You are sexier than Indiana Jones.”

  “Not a real person.”

  “Okay, you’re sexier than Harrison Ford.”

  “I better be. He’s a senior citizen. Maybe we should just go to bed.” His face flushed. “No, no, wait, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. We shouldn’t go to bed. Not with each other, I mean. We should sleep in our respective beds. You go home. I’ll return to the dig site.”

  “Because going to bed with me would be the very worst thing in the world?”

  “I could lose my job.”

  “Not if I quit.”

  “We’re going around in circles.”

  “Trying to find a way out.”

  “There’s not one. All we have to do is wait. We’ve waited all these years. A few more weeks are nothing.”

  Her chest heaved. “I’m so hot for you I can’t stand it.”

  “You’ve got to stop talking like that.”

  “What? Speaking the truth.”

  “Yep. Lie to me, baby.”

  “I don’t want you,” she said. “Not one tiny little bit. When I look at you my blood does not boil. My heart does not race. My nipples do not get hard. My stomach does not jump around like water on a sizzling iron skillet. I—”

  But she got no further as Jericho’s mouth clamped down on hers. Instantly, she melted against him, taking his greedy tongue deep into her mouth. Uh-oh, should you be doing this? whispered a voice in the back of her head, but her body shouted louder, drowning out the common sense she’d been trying too hard to cultivate. She would quit the dig. Everyone expected her to quit anyway. Why not live down to their low expectations of her? Somehow, she’d manage. She’d get a job and put herself through archaeology school. People did it all the time. She could too. Her fingers went crazy, plucking at the buttons of his shirt, desperate to get it off him, to see that bare chest, to run her tongue over him, lick salt from his skin.

  His hands roamed over her body, down her waist, to her hips and around to her butt, grabbing hold and pulling her up tight against him. She was drowning in a pool of unmitigated pleasure.

  You need to quit before you sleep with Jericho, otherwise he could lose his job.

  She groaned and tried to fight the passion surfing through her in scalding hot waves. Wrenching her lips from his, she stepped back, gasping for air.

  And her entire body ached.

  His hands spanned her waist and the next thing she knew, he’d lifted her up and settled her onto her back on one of the long folding tables.

  Dizzy, dazed, she tried to protest, but she could not form a coherent word. He leaned over her, his mouth covering hers while his hands worked at the snap of her pants. Was this really happening? Were they about to make love? Her heart crashed around in her chest like a bumper car bouncing off the rails. I quit. I surrender. I give up. Take me, I’m yours.

  His fingers inched her zipper down.

  Oh God, oh God, it was really happening. Finally. Finally.

  Next, he stripped both her pants and panties to her ankles, then planted his mouth on her navel and kissed a trail all the way down to—

  Her eyes rolled back in her head and she stopped breathing. She was sinking quickly. No hope of regaining her equilibrium now. Over and out. Gone, baby, gone. Leaping without looking at a damn thing. His tongue, oh his beautiful tongue, was doing things she had no idea tongues could do. Her best friend was becoming the best lover she’d ever had.

  “Jericho,” she whispered. Or thought she whispered. She still wasn’t sure her mouth was working. Maybe she didn’t say it. Maybe his name was seared so deeply into her brain it just felt like she was saying it over and over. Jericho, Jericho, Jericho.

  Either way, he didn’t answer her.

  His hands slid under her butt, cradled her tenderly, and nudged her legs farther apart. He let out a low-throated growl of masculine appreciation. “Gorgeous,” he crooned.

  She had her eyes squeezed so tightly closed that yellow streaks of lightning flashed across the backs of her lids. Good thing she was lying down or she might have passed right out.

  Whoa, hold on. No passing out now. Not when he’s just now getting to the juicy part.

  “Please,” she whimpered. “Please.”

  His tongue toyed with her, devastated her. He pushed her higher and higher, his hands manacled around her waist, his mouth taking complete and utter possession of her. She belonged to him, one hundred percent.

  Then his tongue did this mind-blowing maneuver that left her gasping for air and clutching desperately at his hair, tugging and mewling. She arched against his mouth and he took her to a place she had never been before. A place filled with stars and moonbeams and raw delicious pleasure. She shuddered and writhed and cried. He owned her. She was his adoring slave. If he asked her to crawl on her hands and knees on burning coals, she would have happily complied.

  For one long incredible moment she hung on the flight of exaltation, free and silent and buoyant as parasailing, adrift on a blind current of rippling sensation.

  And then she burst. A pop. An implosion. The ripples turned to crashing waves, crested high, then, bit by bit, ebbed away.

  She was vaguely aware of hands tugging her pants up, zipping up the zipper, snapping the snap. Arms went underneath her, lifted her to her feet. At long last she opened her eyes and looked into his dear, familiar face.

  Jericho put a gentle hand on her shoulder. His touch was an electrical switch, lightening up every nerve ending in a domino effect, spreading throughout her body like the power in a city coming on after a long blackout. She hummed and surged and glowed. She’d never felt anything like it, knew that she never would again with any other man.

  The sensation was so overwhelming; so incredibly mind-boggling after the avalanche of things she’d already felt. Zoey sagged helplessly against him, grateful for the arm he slipped around her waist. He hooked a finger under her chin, tilted her face up to meet his gaze.

  Jericho smiled softly and her heart flipped. Oh God, she was in so much trouble here. If he did not love her back the way she loved him, it would destroy her.

  “I’m going to kiss you one more time,” he said. “And then that’s it until the field school is over. We’ll make sure never to be alone again until then. Got it?”

  She nodded even as she wanted to whimper no. He was right. And for this very moment all that mattered was his mouth on hers and his fingers threading through her hair and his luminous eyes staring at her like she was the greatest find he’d ever unearthed.

  He took his time, kissing her thoroughly, slowly. She could taste the heat of his need, but he held himself in restraint, no rushing, no grabbing, just patient and precise. His hands were considerate too, not grabby and kneading roughly like a lot of guys would do, but caressing, cherishing. When the time came to go all the way, he would be the most considerate of lovers—a rugged man with callus-roughened fingers who even so had possessed a treasure trove of foreplay techniques. She could tell from the way he flicked his tongue over her palate at the same time hi
s fingers lightly stroked a sensitive spot behind her ear, tickling an erogenous zone that made her moan.

  He drew her close and held her then, simply held her in the circle of those corded arms of his, sturdy as oaks. He rested his chin on the top of her head. She pressed her ear against his chest, heard the strong, hard thumping of his heart.

  It was such a beautiful moment that she never wanted it to end. His scent filled her nose. His husky breathing soothed her ears. She could have stood there until the end of time if the sound of footsteps on the sidewalk outside the door hadn’t simultaneously jerked both their heads up.

  “Dr. Chance,” a voice called out. “Are you in there?”

  “It’s Director Sinton!” she whispered, completely freaked out. “What are we going to do?”

  “Closet!” he exclaimed, and dragged her into it.

  Chapter 12

  Preserve: To keep safe and protect from injury, harm, or destruction.

  WISHING he could kick his own ass for losing control, Jericho shut the closet door on Zoey and belatedly realized that if Dr. Sinton discovered her hiding in the closet it would look far more suspicious than if he’d simply found them in the room together. Dammit! Whenever he was around her, he simply could not think straight. They might not have fully consummated their relationship, but what he’d just done to her definitely qualified as crossing a line. Out of breath, he stepped away from the closet just as Dr. Sinton walked into the room.

  “What are you doing here so late?” Dr. Sinton blinked, his hair messy, a sheet crease on his cheek. He wore pajamas with a robe thrown over them.

  “Working.”

  “It’s almost two in the morning.” Dr. Sinton’s gaze honed in on Jericho’s chest and that’s when he realized his shirt was unbuttoned halfway.

  He shrugged. He could still taste Zoey on his tongue and it rattled him to the bone. “I got hot.” No lie there. “What are you doing up at this hour, Director?”

  “I live across the street from the college. I got up to get a glass of water and saw the light was on over here. I thought maybe some pranksters were up to no good.”