“God, I want to be inside you,” he murmured, planting kisses along her shoulder, lacing his tongue up the salty skin of her neck. She trembled in his arms and he groaned. “Oh, do that again.”
“Nate, God, you’re driving me mad.”
He cursed the fact that they were at Ash’s house and not in his flat. Still, that needn’t stop him giving her pleasure while they were alone. He slid his fingers deep into her, making her gasp, and then brought them through her slippery folds to stroke her while his left hand continued to play with her nipple. She arched her back, pushing her breast into his hand and encouraging him to squeeze harder, a movement so erotic that he sighed. Covering the pulse point on her neck with his mouth, he sucked gently.
“Ah…” She raised a hand to cup his face again, and he could feel the quivers of desire running through her, little lightning bolts of passion that sent their synapses firing.
“Come for me,” he murmured, kissing her ear, touching his tongue to it.
“No.” To his disappointment, she pushed herself back from the worktop and moved his hands away, but as he watched, she slipped the bikini bottoms off quickly and then looked over her shoulder at him, her mismatched eyes taunting him.
“Here?” he said, hardening so much his erection nearly broke the stitching on his shorts.
She glanced into the garden. “They’re all in the pool.” She looked back at him, her eyes beseeching. “Please, Nate.” She licked her lips, her blue and green eyes wickedly hot, urging him on.
“Are you sure?” he said huskily.
“I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t.” Her eyes turned desperate. “God, Nate, please…I want you inside me.”
Well, how was he supposed to refuse that? He glanced out of the window, making sure nobody had got out of the pool. Luckily, they were too far away to see the kitchen clearly. When he looked back at Freya, she’d obviously realised he’d given in, because her lips had parted, and her eyes gleamed.
Heart thudding, he freed himself from his shorts, moving her wrap aside to expose the pale cheeks of her backside. He stroked them, and then, before she could protest, smacked her butt lightly. “For being wicked,” he said as she gasped, and he pulled her hips toward him. “Honestly. Talk about lead me astray.”
She laughed as she widened her legs, and he slid his erection underneath until the tip pressed inside her. He paused and sighed, revelling in the thought of what was to come. Her, namely. Then him. Hopefully in that order.
“No time for that,” she scolded him breathlessly. “Hard and fast, Taylor.”
He groaned and pushed his hips forward, burying himself in her warmth. They both gasped, and he held her hips firmly, letting her adjust for a second before he began to move.
Leaning forward, he stroked her breasts before sliding a hand down between her legs to caress her sensitive spot, making her sigh erotically. She wasn’t far from coming, he could tell. Part of him was disappointed—she was so hot, so fantastic, he wanted to draw it out, make the most of it, but that wasn’t going to happen this time. Before long, her breathing became more erratic, and he began to thrust harder, deeper, his hands coming up to hold her hips. Freya dropped to her elbows on the worktop, pushing back, and as his climax built deep inside, she began to tighten around him.
“Fuck.” White-hot heat surged up from him into her, and she squealed, clamping around him, intensifying his orgasm as her pulsing muscles squeezed him. He tangled his hand in her hair, clenched his fingers on her hips, pushing so hard he worried for a moment he might have speared her to the worktop. “Jeez, Freya!”
“Oh Nate…”
Sweat slid down his back, and her skin glowed in the sunlight. They stood there for a moment, letting their bodies relax and the spasms in their muscles slowly die down. Nate leaned forward. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, pushing aside her hair so he could kiss her neck. “Exotic and beautiful, like a wild flower.”
“Whoa!”
The two of them straightened and Nate pulled out of Freya hurriedly. It was Grace, and she turned her back to them, saying, “Oh shit, sorry!” as Nate hurriedly stuffed himself back into his shorts and Freya slipped her bikini bottoms on and tied up her top.
“Oh God.” Freya’s cheeks were scarlet.
Nate bit his lip, amused and mortified at the same time. They’d got carried away, and he hadn’t thought to check to see if anyone had got out of the pool. He pulled her to him with one arm, and she leaned her forehead on his shoulder. He kissed the top of her hair and murmured, “Sorry, honey.”
Grace glanced over her shoulder, saw they were decent, and turned. Hands on hips, she studied them. Her eyes were amused, but also flinty hard.
Nate released Freya reluctantly, watching as she walked past Grace without saying anything, eyes lowered, heading for the bathroom. Grace watched her go, lips twisted wryly, then turned back to look at Nate. She raised an eyebrow.
Nate rubbed his face with his hand. “Shit, Grace, sorry.”
Grace shook her head, putting on what he assumed was her teacher’s face. “Honestly. Thank God it wasn’t Jodi who found you.”
“I know. I’m really sorry.” He massaged the back of his neck with his hand as he thought of how bad he’d have felt if the teenager had walked in on them. Poor Freya. Grace was going to make her life a misery.
She tipped her head at him. “I thought you only slept with women once?”
He didn’t know what to say to that. He shoved his hands in his pockets and stared mutely at her.
She folded her arms. “Next time, try to make it to a bedroom.”
“Oh jeez…”
“You work here, for Christ’s sake—you know there’s a spare one at the end of the hall.”
He glanced over his shoulder at the kitchen sink. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. We got…carried away.” He looked back at her.
She surveyed him thoughtfully. “Hmm. There’s something odd about this kitchen.” She shook her head. “I’d better go and speak to Freya. She’s going to be dying in there.”
“Perhaps I should go.”
“No, I want to talk to her. Ash is going to be wondering what we’re up to. He wanted another bottle of lemonade—can you take one out, please?”
“Sure.” Nate hesitated. “Grace?”
“Yes?”
“Tell her I’m sorry.”
Grace smiled, reaching out to rub his arm. “You’re not so bad, Nate, underneath it all. You’re good for each other, you know that?”
“I don’t know. Really I don’t. I don’t want to hurt her.”
“Then don’t.” Grace’s brown eyes were kind, but firm.
Nate looked out of the window. Jodi dived into the pool as Ash cheered her on, but his gaze was far away, thinking about the blonde woman who occupied his thoughts permanently at the moment. “I think it might be too late for that.”
Freya flushed the toilet and then put the lid down and sat with her head in her hands. She had to go out and face Grace—it was the only way to get past the moment, but she was far too embarrassed to even contemplate leaving the room. Would anyone notice if she stayed there until after dark?
When the knock came on the door, she hoped fervently it was Nate. “Yes?”
“It’s me,” said Grace.
Freya groaned.
“Let me in.”
“Go away, I’m dying in here.”
Grace laughed. “Come on honey. It’s not the end of the world.”
Freya rubbed her face and then got up and walked over to the door. She unlocked it and opened it, standing back to let Grace in. Her face burned, and it only grew worse as she met Grace’s amused gaze.
“Oh God, don’t.” She sat back down, her scorching cheeks in her hands.
Grace perched on the edge of the bath and rubbed her back. “Oh come on, we’ve known each other for long enough not to be worried about this sort of thing.”
“I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“I’ve got a pretty good idea what was going through both of your minds,” said Grace, “and it wasn’t tea and scones.”
“Grace…”
“Don’t worry. It’s the kitchen. I think maybe there’s an Indian burial ground underneath it or something.”
“What…?”
“Never mind.” Grace grinned. “Did I ever tell you about the time Jodi almost caught me and Ash on the sofa?”
Freya blew her nose, not yet mollified. “No.”
“She’d gone to his sister’s, but she came back because she’d forgotten her iPod. We didn’t hear the car draw up and only realised she’d returned when we heard the front door open. There’s me, completely naked, sitting astride Ash, also naked. And we weren’t playing cards.”
“Oh God. What did Ash say?”
“I think his actual words were ‘Shit, bollocks, fuck’. In that order.”
They both started laughing. “What did Jodi say?”
“We managed to scramble to our feet and pull our T-shirts on, but it was quite obvious what we’d been up to. She just rolled her eyes, though, and said something along the lines of ‘For God’s sake you two, I’ve only been out of the house five minutes’. She was fine. It took me considerably longer to recover.” Grace leaned over and kissed Freya on the cheek. “Seriously, honey, we’re all grownups. Don’t worry about it. Just…be careful.”
“I’m on the pill, Grace.”
“Jeez, TMI, Freya. I meant generally. Do you know what you’re getting into?”
“Yeah, don’t worry. We’re still at the ‘it’s just sex’ stage.”
“You may be,” said Grace. “Nate isn’t.”
Freya stared at her. “What do you mean?”
“I mean he’s into you, honey, big time. And it’s scaring him.”
Freya’s heart pounded. “He’s into me?” she asked in a small voice.
Grace gave her a pitying look. “Oh dear. Looks like he isn’t the only one.”
“I…” Freya couldn’t deny it. She blinked as realisation set in. “No, I can’t be in love. It’s inconvenient.”
Grace smiled wryly. “Love always is, I’m afraid.”
“I mean it, Grace. This was supposed to be uncomplicated and fun, not heavy. This’ll be the last thing he wants. It’s the last thing I want.”
“I don’t actually think it’s the last thing that either of you wants, and I think it’s exactly what you both need. But I understand it’s frightening. I’ve been there, remember? I did not want to fall in love with a medium—I didn’t believe in all that crap. I thought Ash was a lunatic and told him as much. I thought he was either delusional or out to trick me. I told him that too.” She thought about that for a moment, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “Lord knows why the man likes me. But my point is that when it happens, there’s no rhyme or reason to it. We can’t predict scientifically why one person will fall for another. I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but it is magic, in a way. And when it happens…” She cupped Freya’s face and smiled. “You’ve got to go with it.”
Freya swallowed. “I don’t know how much Ash has told you about Nate’s past, but he ran away, and he’s still running. He doesn’t want to be tied down.”
“I know. Ash has told me most of it.”
“I can’t talk to him about it. I’m not going to be the one who tries to restrict him again, Grace. He’ll fly, I’m sure of it. I’ve just got to accept, for now anyway, that the little pieces of him he’s willing to give me will have to be enough.”
Grace studied her. She nodded, as if she was giving in. Then her lips started to curve. “It didn’t look like a little piece from where I was standing.”
“Grace!”
“I’m just saying. No wonder you were blushing.”
“Right, I’m leaving now…”
Grace laughed and got up to give her a hug. “I’m sorry. You’re such fun to tease. I won’t mention it again.”
“Don’t tell Ash.”
“I won’t, honey, don’t worry. He doesn’t have to know all my secrets. A girl likes to keep some things to herself.”
“Really?” said Ash. “In my kitchen?”
Freya stared at him, horrified. “Grace,” she hissed. “I’m going to kill you.”
Ash chuckled and leaned back on the sofa. It was Saturday evening, and he and Freya sat in the room where he carried out his readings.
It was a surprisingly ordinary room, Freya had thought when she first walked in. The warm peach colour on two of the walls complemented the beige carpet, and the evening sun streamed through the sliding doors and huge windows that made up the majority of the other two walls. Paintings of gentle seascapes provided a relaxing atmosphere. The cream, plush leather sofa and armchairs made it seem informal, taking away some of the tension that had taken root in her spine at the thought of the coming reading.
“No,” Ash said now, “Grace didn’t drop you in it. Let’s just say a little birdie told me.” His eyes were full of amusement.
Freya realised he was talking about a little bird from the other side and went all tingly. She’d been desperate for a reading ever since she found out he and Grace were dating, but somehow the months had slipped by and she’d never managed to get around to making a booking. Also, Ash slightly intimidated her. He was probably the nicest man she’d ever met, but the knowledge that he had a direct line to people who no longer inhabited the earthly plane tended to make her tongue tied around him. However, the tangled events of the past few weeks had finally prompted her to make a date, and now here she was, getting all embarrassed at the thought that he knew she and Nate had gotten down and dirty on his terracotta tiles.
“Don’t be nervous,” he said with a smile.
“I can’t help it,” she admitted. “It’s like you can read my mind sometimes.”
“Freya, a person doesn’t need to be psychic to see you’re nervous. You’re twisting your hands and your back looks like it has a broom handle tied to it. Relax.”
She laughed and let out a shaky breath, trying to relax back into the soft cushion of the sofa. “Sorry.”
“No worries—I just want you to enjoy this, that’s all.” He sipped from his glass of water. “Okay. So I’m sure you know how this works as you’ve been to one of my shows, but I’ll give you the spiel anyway. I’m a medium—which means I can contact people who’ve crossed over to the other side, and I’m also clairvoyant—which means sometimes I receive pictures of things that have happened or are going to happen. I’m also clairaudient, and can hear spirits speak too. Okay?”
“Okay.” Her mouth had gone dry.
“Now when I start talking, I tend to speed up and gabble a bit, and sometimes I’ll give you lots of information in one go, but don’t agree with anything just to please me—if you don’t understand something, say ‘I don’t understand’ or ‘No’, okay? It’s important you don’t lead me because we’re friends. Don’t be nice to me.” He smiled.
“Okay.”
“It is difficult to read for people I know because, for example, I have a vague idea of who is around in your family, but if I make a mistake, be sure to tell me.”
Freya nodded.
“I’ve found that most of what they tend to communicate to me is for verification—to let you know that they really are there, watching over you. But occasionally they’ll transmit advice or details of upcoming events. I’ll translate these as best I can.”
“Sure.”
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, smiling again. “Okay, let’s get started.”
Chapter Fifteen
Freya’s heart thudded. She watched as he looked at the carpet a few feet in front of him, but his eyes were unfocussed, and she realised he wasn’t really looking at the carpet—he was seeing something else, something not in the physical world.
He nodded and looked back up at her. “I’ve got a woman here who’s represented as being above you—” he gestured with his hand a
s if indicating someone taller than Freya, “—which means she’s a mother or a grandmother, and as I know your mother’s alive, I’m assuming it’s your grandmother.”
“Yes.”
“On your father’s side.”
“Yes.”
He listened for a moment. “She’s showing me the actress Liza Minelli.”
“Her name was Liza,” said Freya, a shiver running down her spine.
“My chest feels tight—did she have something wrong with her lungs at the end?”
“Yes,” Freya whispered. “She had pneumonia.”
“Now she’s showing me Robert Redford.”
“My grandfather’s name is Robert.”
Ash nodded. “What’s the significance of the numbers eight and six? Was she eighty-six when she died?”
“Um, no…”
“The eighth of June maybe?”
“Oh! That was her birthday.” Freya laughed.
“Good.” He concentrated on the ground again. He glanced up then and gave her a peculiar look. “She’s showing me Da Vinci’s The Last Supper. Do you have any idea why?”
She thought frantically. “Um… She was quite religious, I suppose.”
“No, that’s not it. Don’t reach. What about the number thirteen?”
“Oh, I know what it is—she was one of thirteen children! That’s right—she used to say that suppertime when she was young was like the Last Supper. Gosh, Ash, you’re terrific.”
He laughed. “Grace doesn’t like it when people say things like that. She things I’m going to get big-headed.” He widened his eyes. “Thirteen children, eh?”
“I know. They were Catholics.”
“That makes sense.” He unfocussed his gaze again. “She’s telling me four. Did she have four children herself?”
“Yes.”
“And now she’s showing me the number three. Was your father the third child?”
“Yes.”
He nodded. Stared at the carpet. “Who’s Tahu?”
Making Sense: Sensual Healing, Book 2 Page 13
