Beyond Fearless

by Rebecca York

  We need to make ourselves strong, he said directly into her mind. Make the connection between us as solid as forged steel.

  How?

  The way we did before. Lucky for us, it’s the fun way. To make clear what he was talking about, he turned his head, stroking his lips against the tender place where her neck met her jaw.

  The intimate gesture instantly raised her temperature, and she lifted her head, giving him better access. He kissed his way along her jawline, found her ear and traced the tender curves, then stiffened his tongue so that he could stroke the sensitive, hidden canal.

  She had longed to make love to him earlier. Now she gave herself over to the arousal curling in her middle, and she knew he felt her reaction. It bounced back to him, generating more heat and reflecting the fire back to her.

  He gathered her close, and she knew what was in his mind. Slipping his arm under her knees, he stood. At the same time, she anchored her arms around his neck and felt him carry her across the short space to the bed she’d made out of the couches. He laid her on the cushions and stood looking down at her as he took off his shirt.

  But not his shorts.

  “I want you naked.”

  “Not yet. I’m trying to see if we can take our communication skills to a new level.”

  “With half your clothes on?”

  He laughed. “Don’t probe too far. Just enjoy what we’re doing.”

  “Don’t probe. I thought the point of this was to get closer to each other.”

  “Wiseguy! Right now, just let me give you pleasure.”

  He sat beside her, reaching down to slowly unbutton her shirt. When she reached for him, he shook his head.

  Let me take charge of this.

  Okay.

  She had never felt closer to another human being, never felt more confident in a man’s ability to please her.

  I should hope so.

  When she tried to peer inside his head and see what he had in mind, he gave her a little invisible push, and she mentally jumped back.

  No peeking.

  How did you do that?

  I don’t know. Maybe this will help you pick it up.

  As he spoke inside her head, he pushed aside the front sides of her shirt, baring her breasts.

  Then he reached down and tugged at her shorts, pulling them down her legs and over her feet before tossing the garment onto the floor. She lay on the wide couch, almost totally exposed to him except for the open shirt she wore. And somehow that one garment made her feel more naked than if she had been totally without clothing.

  He projected his intentions to her—at least what he wanted her to know. And just his sensual thoughts were enough to heat her blood.

  He sat beside her, stroking the inner curves of her breasts, then delicately drawing circles around them, his fingers barely skimming her skin.

  Please. I need…

  This?

  The circles contracted, coming closer and closer to her nipples but not quite touching them.

  Oh, Lord, Zach, don’t torture me.

  He smiled down at her. And when she was almost ready to surge off the couch, he finally dragged his fingers against the raised edges of her nipples, the relief of his touch making her cry out with the pleasure of it. She knew he felt it, too, the same need, the same intensity that grabbed hold of her.

  You look so sexy, lying there with the firelight flickering over you. I have to taste you. Taste all of you. He leaned over, replacing one hand with his tongue, stroking her nipple wetly before sucking the hardened bud into his mouth.

  Pleasure swirled through her—through him, because her arousal was also his.

  With his mouth still on her breast, he stroked one hand down the center of her body, stopping to circle her navel and dip into it before reaching lower, combing his fingers through the triangle of dark hair at the top of her legs, then stiffening two fingers. He reached the lower edge of those dark curls, playing along the edge, and she held back, ordering herself not to beg him to dip lower.

  He knew exactly what she wanted, but he waited before sliding his fingers into the folds of her most intimate flesh, pressing against her clit before circling within the entrance to her vagina.

  “Oh!” she cried out, moving her hips to increase the contact with his fingers.

  Deeper?

  God, yes.

  Slowly, slowly, he slid his fingers into her, deepening the caress before pulling back.

  When he did, her hips followed him, rising off the couch as her need built toward explosive proportions.

  She could feel the smile in his mind as he opened her legs and climbed between them onto the couch. He bent her knees, placing her feet flat on the cushions, then brought his mouth to her sex, already slick and swollen from his attentions.

  His tongue was firm as he flicked it at her clit, while at the same time slipping his fingers back inside her, caressing her hot channel as he used his mouth and tongue to play with her clit.

  Her total focus was on the pleasure he was giving her. He brought her toward climax, then pulled back, and she knew he was judging her reactions, dragging her to the edge but not allowing her to slip over.

  “Please,” she cried out, the word bursting from her throat as the need for orgasm pulsed through her blood. “You know what I want.”

  In that moment, she sensed his intentions and tried to grab his hand. But instead of doing what she desperately craved, he moved quickly back, then climbed off the sofa, completely breaking the physical contact.

  “Zach?”

  When he took a couple of steps away, she made a moaning sound. She was too needy to reach for mind-to-mind communication. “Zach, what are you doing?”

  “Seeing how far I can move away from you and still feel what you’re feeling.”

  “Are you trying to drive me crazy?”

  “I’m trying to strengthen the connection between us.”

  “I need…”

  I know. I know.

  His voice soothed her and at the same time inflamed her.

  Can’t we just do this the regular way?

  He laughed softly. It’s tempting. But we’re not doing this just for fun. See if you can feel what I’m feeling.

  Because he gave her no other option, she reached out to him, catching the waves of heat coming off his body, and she knew that he was as hot as she, that his need was as great as her own.

  That was small compensation when he stood a few feet away, staring down at her with an intensity that would have burned her skin if he’d developed laser vision.

  Maybe that’s next.

  Oh sure.

  She lay there on the couch, silently calling to him, willing him to come back and finish what he’d started.

  I will, he whispered inside his head, but he didn’t move any closer to her.

  Still, she felt…the whisper pressure of his fingers against her nipples.

  “Zach?” she gasped.

  He didn’t speak, either in her mind or aloud, but his face was a study in concentration as she felt his touch. It wasn’t as strong as when he’d been on the couch with her.

  More. I need more.

  I’m working on it.

  FAR away, Jordan and Lindsay Walker lay in bed, their hands clasped together. Drifting. Drifting. Together they reached out toward the man and woman who needed their help.

  Where are they?

  I still don’t know.

  What about the man Jim Swift sent to kill them?

  I’m not sure.

  What can we do?

  Nothing—unless we can find out where they are.

  They’re getting stronger. I can feel it.

  Maybe we can communicate directly with them.

  Not now. I think they’re busy.

  Jordan laughed. Yeah. I think you’re right. We should give them some privacy.

  Lindsay rolled toward him, and they clasped each other more tightly.

  When I thought we were the only joined Dariens,
I felt alone.

  Yes.

  But what’s it going to be like when we meet them?

  We’ll find out.

  Yes—I hope we get a chance to know them.

  Fear leaped inside her. They’re in danger. And we have to find them. She hitched in a breath.

  Jordan could feel her sending her mind outward—trying to pick up clues. An image leaped into her mind.

  Magic Anna. Now Appearing.

  Where?

  She struggled to expand the vision. I see a sign. Grand Fernandino Dock.

  BY slow degrees, the phantom touch of Zach’s hands on Anna’s body became firmer.

  She closed her eyes, focusing on the sensations of his fingers on her—when there was no actual physical contact between them. And she knew in some part of her mind that her response was strengthening his ability to please her.

  Cooperation, he murmured. He was standing five feet away, yet now it felt like he was right beside her.

  Even as the sensations became more intense, questions swirled in her head.

  “How?” she whispered as she stared across the space that separated them. “How are you doing that?”

  “Don’t ask how. Just enjoy it. Does it feel good?”

  “You know it does,” she murmured.

  “Yeah.”

  He was standing with his body rigid, his arms at his sides, his fists clenched. In the firelight, his features were tense. When her gaze swept over him, she could clearly see the massive bulge behind the fly of his shorts.

  He was as hot as she was, but she didn’t have to see his body to know that. She could feel the heat coursing through his veins, pooling in his cock.

  I thought guys couldn’t wait.

  You’ve been watching too many porn flicks.

  I never watch porn flicks.

  She thought he might come to her. Instead, he took a step back and the contact wavered, then snapped.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-ONE

  RAOUL KNELT IN front of the altar in the shed behind his shop. He’d been there for hours, his hands clasped in front of him as he asked Ibena for help. He had never offered her more sacrifices in such a short period of time. Half a dozen chickens, none of which he had donated to the poor. They were all in the garbage can. But he couldn’t go out distributing food. He needed to stay focused on Ibena. He had never needed her help more than he had today. Yet it felt like his goddess had forsaken him.

  She’d teased him. Given him just enough information to send him into a tailspin.

  What had he done? How had he displeased the Blessed Ones—displeased his special saint?

  He knew that Anna was out there somewhere. With the man who had determined to steal her away. Once again, he had lost track of them. It was like a curtain had dropped in front of his eyes, blinding him. And he didn’t have the strength to lift it over such a long distance.

  “Help me,” he pleaded, his voice stiff and formal. “Ibena, I gonna dedicate my life to your worship if you help me.”

  Perhaps that was the incentive she needed. Because he felt the curtain waver, then begin to thin.

  He saw flickering firelight. And Anna lying on a couch. naked except for a shirt that was folded back to reveal her breasts.

  Her head was turned to the side, her eyes pleading. She looked aroused. Yet the man wasn’t on the couch with her.

  Blood fire! What was this? What in the hell were they doing. And why?

  “Anna! Where are you?” he called out.

  Her body jerked, and she made a sound that was something between a sob and a moan.

  Go away, she shouted in her head. Leave me alone.

  You belong with me.

  No! I belong with Zach.

  Zach. That his name?

  Go away, she shouted again, and the picture before his eyes rippled. He cursed, trying to hold on to the scene.

  “Wait! Don’t run out on me.”

  But she was gone, and he was left on his aching knees, shouting out his frustration and his rage.

  He would kill the bastard. Kill him!

  “NO!” Anna cried out.

  “What? What were you saying? I couldn’t hear you.”

  “I wasn’t talking to you. He was here, trying to get between us.”

  “Jesus.” Zach took a step toward her, but she shouted inside his head.

  No. We have to do this. He made me understand how important this is.

  Her need to solidify the connection with Zach made her reach out desperately to him again.

  She knew without doubt that she had to make the link between them as strong as it could be. Like iron, he had said.

  At the same time, her physical need surged again. And with that need, she felt his response. His phantom touch reached her once more, and she gasped as heat shot through her.

  He tipped his head to the side. Thanks for the help.

  I had to.

  I was hoping I could push you to reach for me.

  I need…

  I know. Less talk. More action.

  He stopped the conversation and focused on arousing her.

  His hands were pressed against his hips now, his fingers spread so she could see each one clearly.

  As she stared at his hands, his phantom touch on her breasts grew stronger, more arousing. And suddenly, at the same time, she felt the sensation of his two stiffened fingers slipping inside her again.

  They stroked in and out of her vagina as he caressed her breasts with his other hand. It was good. But it wasn’t enough. She needed more.

  He was still standing a few yards away.

  “Come here,” she pleaded.

  He gave a small shake of his head. When he stayed where he was, desperation rose inside her. If he wasn’t going to put her out of her misery, then she would have to do it herself.

  No. Don’t touch yourself.

  You’ve made me so hot, I can’t stand it. I need to come.

  I know. Let me do it.

  Oh, Lord, Zach.

  Need surged through her. She pressed her hands against the cushions as her hips surged off the couch, then settled back again.

  “Please…” she cried out.

  He kept his invisible fingers inside her, then reached with his thumb to circle her clit.

  “Oh!”

  She knew he didn’t have to ask what she needed from him. He could feel it. And he kept up the intimate touch, in just the way she wanted him to do it. His fingers were inside her, on her clit, on her breasts—touching her in more places than he could have done if he had been beside her.

  And as he caressed her in all those spots, sensation built to explosive proportions.

  Finally, finally, they burst through her in a rocketing climax that shook her body and mind.

  She called out his name as her hips surged off the cushions again and again while wave after wave of pleasure swept over her. When she settled back to earth, her breath was coming in great gasps.

  Completely spent, she lay on the couch, panting, stroking her hands against the cushions, then tipped her head back, looking up at Zach. He was standing over her, breathing hard, grinning down at her.

  She grinned back. You’re pretty pleased with yourself, aren’t you?

  Aren’t you? he asked inside her head.

  Yes.

  She felt his mood turn serious. In the middle of that, you said he was here.

  I’m sorry.

  Not your fault.

  I hope not. She made a small sound. It happened when you stepped away, and I couldn’t feel you. He tried to get between us then.

  And that made you reach for me.

  Yes!

  That’s good.

  You don’t think I want anything to do with him—do you?

  Of course not, he answered, but she felt the edge of doubt in his mind.

  You’re the only man I want inside my head, or anywhere inside my body, she added, just to make her feelings clear. As she made the proclamation, she switched her f
ocus from herself to him.

  He’d brought her to climax, but need still surged through him.

  “I think you should lie down,” she murmured.

  “You mean before I fall over?” he asked, and she breathed out a small sigh, knowing he was focusing on the two of them again.

  “Yes.”

  Scooting over, she made room for him on the couch. He flopped down beside her, and she wanted to roll to her side and pull him to her.

  Don’t, he whispered.

  You want me to…do what you did to me?

  Yeah.

  What if I can’t?

  Then I’m in for a pretty rough time.

  To avoid further physical contact, she moved to the end of the couch and climbed off, then stood on shaky legs, steadying herself against one of the backrests, getting accustomed to being vertical after such an erotic experience.

  His silent voice drifted toward her.

  Don’t wait too long.

  She couldn’t stop herself from teasing him. I might wait hours. It would serve you right.

  Don’t punish me! You said I made you hot. Well, I feel like I could fly apart into a thousand pieces.

  The plea was so heartfelt that she felt her chest tighten.

  Sorry.

  Maybe I deserve it. I didn’t tell you what I was going to do.

  If you had, I might have strangled you.

  Despite his tension, he laughed.

  How did you figure out how to…touch me without…being right beside me?

  I don’t know?

  Thanks!

  Just see if you can do it, he said in a strained voice. Didn’t you do something like that on the plane? When you were trying to get my attention?

  That was different. I made up a fantasy.

  Make up another one!

  DESPITE the heat of the island evening, a shiver traveled over Nadine’s skin as she stood outside the shed in the backyard of the art gallery. She had tried to call Raoul on the phone to ask if he’d be home for dinner, but he hadn’t answered. So she’d come down to the gallery looking for him, and she’d found the shop closed.

  Really, the question about dinner had been an excuse. He’d been acting strange lately, and she wanted to keep tabs on him. So she’d gone down the alley to the backyard. And she’d heard Raoul inside the shed where he had a shrine like the one at home.