by Wendy Stone
"Your sister the sex therapist?” Marissa asked, chuckling.
"She does other kind of therapy too, she just specializes in sex."
Marissa burst out laughing. “Do you realize how that sounds?"
"Yeah, and she hates when I say it."
"Which is why you do and as often as you can, right Terry?” Marissa leaned over and hugged her friend, feeling better than she had all week. She needed to laugh and if Terry couldn't get one out of her, no one could. “Thank you,” she said.
"I didn't do anything,” Terry said waving away her thanks before she spoke into the phone. “Yes sir, I'll connect you,” she said, pressing buttons. “So what are you wearing?"
"I thought I'd wear the dress I wore to my cousin's wedding,” Marissa said, the nerves returning to flutter in her belly.
"No! My God, Mar, that thing makes you look like a school teacher. What time is he picking you up?” She had her finger on the phone but let it ring a few extra times while she waited for her friend to answer.
"Eight. I like that dress."
"It's a great dress, but come on, a man like that? You need something that shows a bit of skin and a lot of sass.” She answered the call, hurrying to transfer it. “I have just the thing."
Marissa shuddered delicately. “Ter, no offense but I've seen what you wear out clubbing. I don't want to show off that much skin, ever."
"Shut up and trust me.” She winked at Marissa and then went back to work.
When the work day ended, Marissa tried to sneak away without Terry seeing her, only to find her friend waiting at the glass doors. “Nice try,” Terry smirked.
"Can you blame a girl?” Marissa rolled her eyes, making Terry laugh.
"Come on, we got work to do."
* * * *
Two hours later, Marissa sat nervously in her living area, pulling down the hem line of the dress Terry had talked her into wearing. It sat at mid-thigh, stubbornly resisting any attempts to force it closer to her knees.
It was a classic little black dress, done Terry-style; showing off a lot of leg and back, though it was pretty demure in the neckline.
"That's to make it so shocking when you turn around,” Terry had said, laughing. It was held up by two thin straps that wrapped over her shoulders and under her arms, crisscrossing over her back. Tiny gold hoops graced her ears. A single bracelet slid down her arm as she touched her hair to push back a stray curl.
Black thigh high nylons made her legs look miles long, and heels higher than any she'd worn before made her feet appear tiny. A shiver shuddered through her and she couldn't help but hope she wasn't over dressed.
When the door buzzer went off, Marissa looked up wildly. Stubbornly, she shook her head, took a deep breath and went to her door. Peeking out the small peephole, she took another deep breath, yanked one last time on the hemline of the dress and then opened the door.
He stared at her, his eyes slowly moving over her body, taking in every inch of what little the dress covered. “Wow,” he said a few seconds later. “You look amazing."
Her smile started small, then grew as his eyes went to her face, fixing upon her lips. “Thank you. I wasn't sure where you were taking me."
He took her hand, leaning forward to place a lingering kiss upon her cheek. “You smell delicious too,” he whispered, breathing in her scent.
His scent spilled over her, masculine, spicy and a trifle wild, leaving her breathless. “You do too,” she said, turning her head to smile up at him. Instead, his lips found hers; soft, tentative, a gentle tasting that made her long to feel his arms around her.
Instead, he took her hand, lifting his head to smile down at her. “Are you ready to go? I hope you're hungry."
"I-I am,” she stuttered, surprised to find it true. “I just need to grab my purse."
Lukah held open her door, waiting while she collected her things. A low whistle came from him as he saw the back of her dress and the daring point it reached. It showed off her soft back, the line of her spine and curved to the top of her bottom. A touch of black lace made it look as if she were showing off more than she actually was, giving it a touch of femininity that was alluring and sensual.
"That's some dress,” he said as she came toward him, holding out his hand to her.
Marissa took it, smiling and silently thanking Terry for steamrolling her into wearing it. “That's some suit,” she said, her eyes running over him with the same admiration.
He let his hand linger on the skin of her back, his thumb rubbing gently over her skin, sending a chill of goose flesh skittering over her arms. They spoke of inconsequential things until they reached his car. He opened her door, holding her hand to help her in the car and closing her door.
"I have something I'd like to show you,” he said when he got into the car. “It's a special place for me."
"I'd like that,” Marissa said softly, putting on her seatbelt as he started the car.
He drove through town, easily maneuvering through the Friday evening traffic. Instead of turning toward the downtown area as she'd thought he would, he turned onto the expressway, going south.
"So, are you kidnapping me?” she asked him.
"It was a thought, but no. This is a little place that I've kept to myself. It's where I go when I need time away.” He paused, turning to glance at her. “I want you to see it."
He pulled off the expressway, turning down a two lane road that seemed to lead to nowhere. The woods pressed in from either side and Lukah had to step on the brakes as three white-tail deer leapt across the road in front of them. He drove about ten miles further, finally slowing and pulling off the road and onto a small dirt road.
"Are you sure you're not kidnapping me?” Marissa asked. “Where are we?"
"It's a small town called Christmas, if you can believe that. I own a small place out here.” He turned off the dirt road and onto a driveway that curved and twisted through the woods. It was a bumpy ride until the woods tapered back and opened up into a small clearing. A log cabin stood in the center, lights shining from the windows, giving it an inviting look.
Lukah pulled up and turned off the car, reaching down to push a small button under the dash that opened his trunk. He smiled at her, then got out, going around to the trunk and pulling out a large basket. Slamming the trunk closed, he opened her door and held out his hand. “I hope you're not disappointed."
"No, it's beautiful, Lukah.” She took his hand, allowing him to pull her out. “When did you have time to do all of this?"
"Oh, it's pretty easy when my favorite cousin is a gourmet chef. He packed this basket for us, so I'm not exactly sure what's in it. He also said that he can't wait to meet you.” He drew her toward the cabin, guiding her up the five wide steps and onto the big covered porch.
Letting go of her hand, he dug out his keys and opened the door, staring at her with an eager anticipation that seemed almost boyish. “Go on in,” he said.
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Chapter Five
The cabin was split into different living areas, with a huge loft looking down over the great room. A stone fireplace was blazing, the flames licking hungrily at the wood piled on the grate. Pin lights were hidden in the carpet along the side of the wall, shining softly and creating the glow Marissa had seen from outside. The carpet was thick and soft; pillows were strewn on the floor in front of the fireplace. Music was playing out of speakers hidden in the walls, a soft jazzy tune that made the atmosphere even more romantic. A bouquet of white roses sat in a vase on the kitchen counter.
"This is beautiful,” she breathed, looking back over her shoulder at him.
The look on his face startled her. It was hungry, his amber eyes shining gold in the soft lights. But it changed when he saw her staring at him. He relaxed, smiling at her gently.
"I'm glad you think so. Want the guided tour?” he teased.
"I'd love it."
Lukah sat down the basket full of goodies that Nashe had packed, t
aking Marissa's hand in his own and bringing it to his lips before heading towards the doors on the other side of the room. “This is the great room and the kitchen, dining room,” he checked off before throwing open one of the doors. “My sister's bedroom when she comes here with her mate and their li ... ah kids. They don't get away often. My sister, Kaliandra, got all the brains in the family and decided to use them. She's a lawyer."
"It's a beautiful room,” Marissa said, and meant it.
"The bathroom is through here and then we have another bedroom,” he said, throwing open doors. French doors were in the back, near the kitchen and he stood her before them, standing close enough behind her that he could feel the heat of her body. He flipped on a light switch and the entire back yard lit up with fairy lights in the trees and around a large deck. A hot tub sat steaming off to one side, overlooking a view that did God justice.
"Oh, Lukah, this is absolutely breathtaking. Now I see why you come here.” She looked over her shoulder, seeing that smoky look in his eyes once more.
"Marissa,” he whispered, catching her gaze with his. His hand slid from her shoulder, his fingers stroking her soft skin as his head bent.
Her breath caught and her eyes fluttered as his mouth touched hers, his lips gentle. His hands turned her, pulling her into his embrace almost hesitatingly, as if he were afraid to startle her. Her hands trembled, moving slowly up and over his chest, gripping the lapels of his jacket.
Lukah lifted his head and she opened her eyes, seeing the heat in his. For a single instant she was no longer there in his arms. Instead, she was in the back of a smoky bar, held down by harsh hands, the sickening feeling of being violated shooting through her like it had just happened again. She struggled, pushing against him.
"Marissa!"
She stilled, staring wildly into his eyes. “Oh God, Lukah. I'm sorry. You ... you were him."
"Him? The man who..."
"The man who raped me,” she said, moving away from him. She crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself tightly and walked slowly to the fire as if trying to get warm. “I know you aren't him. I know that. But for just a second ... I saw his face again."
Lukah followed, stopping just out of reach. “You went through a very traumatic experience, Rissa. Any flashbacks, well, they are to be expected."
"What, do you have a degree in psychology too?” Marissa asked, trying to smile and stop the tears that wanted to run down her face.
"No education is a waste,” he joked gently. “Post traumatic stress isn't an easy thing."
"That's kind of a severe diagnosis, doc.” Marissa turned from the fire, staring up at him. “If you want to take me home, I'll understand. I'll be disappointed, but I'll understand."
"And waste all of this food that Nashe made for us? Are you kidding?” He reached out, taking her hand and pulling her over to one of the pillows on the floor. “Besides, you look so gorgeous, I'll be happy sitting across from you and basking in your beauty."
"Where do you come up with these lines?” she asked breathlessly, letting him help her sit against the big pillow. “You always say the right thing."
"Not always,” he said ruefully. “Stay right there, I'll open the wine Nashe packed. You do like wine, don't you?"
"Yes,” Marissa said, watching him open the basket and pull out a bottle. He went to the kitchen, fumbling through the drawers to find a cork screw and then opened the bottle. Pulling down two glasses, he poured a tiny bit into one of the glasses and brought it to her.
"Tell me what you think?"
"I've never done any wine tasting. I don't even know how to start."
Lukah put down the other glass and the bottle, setting it on the floor and then sat down beside her. Marissa couldn't help but notice how careful he was to keep a few inches between them. He handed her the glass.
"Hold it up and use the drapes as a background."
"Background, why?"
"It's the best way to assess the color of the wine, by using a background of white to hold it up against."
She held it up, tipping the glass to the side a bit so that the flames of the fire gleamed in the ruby heart of the glass. “It's red,” she said.
Lukah laughed, scooting just a bit closer and closing his hand over hers. He tipped the glass a bit more. “See how clear the color is, how light of a color it is? Red wine grows lighter as it ages. Look at the surface of the wine. A purple tint means a young wine. Orange or brown can mean an older wine."
"I guess I should have expected that a man with your experience with restaurants should know this."
"It's just one of my many talents,” he teased her. “Now swirl the wine in the glass. That releases molecules that allow you to better smell the aroma."
Marissa swirled the wine, bringing it to her nose and breathing deeply.
"Tell me what you smell,” he said, moving just a bit closer until his leg touched hers.
"Fruity,” she said, closing her eyes. The feel of his leg made concentrating upon the bouquet of the wine almost impossible. “And something else. I can't ... it's almost like clover."
"Very good, Marissa,” he whispered, his fingers touching the nape of her neck. “Now, take a small sip and hold it in your mouth."
She did, leaning back a bit against his hand.
"Take a small breath through your mouth so that the air goes through the wine then swirl it around over your tongue before you swallow it."
Marissa felt silly, but she did as he told, swallowing the wine. “It..."
"Not yet,” he interrupted. “Concentrate on the aftertaste of the wine."
"It's sweet,” she said. “Very nice.” She turned her head to look up at him.
"I'm not going to hurt you. You do know that don't you?” he asked after a moment.
"I know that,” she whispered. Marissa looked down at the carpet for a moment. “Will you do something for me?"
Lukah brought her chin up with his fingers. “Anything,” he said simply.
"I can't believe I'm going to ask you to do this.” She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I ... Would you make love to me?"
He was silent for so long, staring at her until her nerves got the better of her. “I know, it's a stupid idea. I couldn't even kiss you a few minutes ago. I'll freak out on you and...” His fingers halted her rant, pressing gently against her lips.
"I can't think of anything I want more in this world than to make love to you. Marissa, you've been all I've thought of this week. I've dreamed of you. But,” he dropped his head, his forehead against hers, “I don't want to scare you, ever."
"That's why it has to be you, Lukah. You won't hurt me.” She set down the glass on the floor, moving it out of the way. “Kiss me?"
Her heart was beating wildly, her pulse visible in the long column of her neck. She met his eyes, seeing the heat and desire in the golden irises. He moved closer, the fingers on her chin slipping down and curling around the nape of her neck.
"I'll stop,” he promised.
"I don't want you to,” she whispered. “Please, Lukah."
"I will,” he said softly as his lips brushed hers. “I'll please you."
She moaned under the taste of his mouth, her lips parting as his tongue pressed gently against the seam. He took his time, teasing her with tiny licks against the corner of her mouth, trailing over the smoothness of her teeth. He coaxed her into responding, his gentleness helping to free her from her fear.
A low growl came from his throat, a humming kind of grunt that reminded her of the sound his panther had made that day. She backed away, her hand coming out to touch his face.
"You're all right?” he asked huskily.
She nodded. “You sound like one of your cats."
He chuckled, nuzzling his nose along the softness of her hairline and breathing in her scent. “Maybe it's because you make me want to purr."
She shivered as he drew his tongue over the skin of her throat, stopping to lick delicately at the thr
obbing pulse. Marissa felt a surge of arousal; her nipples grew taut, pushing at the thin material of her dress. She moaned again when he nipped at her neck before moving once more up to her lips.
"Come here,” he whispered against her lips. “I want to feel you against me.” His arm went around her waist, drawing her to him. Pulling her across his lap, he reached into her hair, pulling one pin after another until her fiery red curls fell free around her shoulders. “So beautiful,” he breathed as he ran his hands over the silken curls, gathering them in his fist to let them waterfall against her back. “Will you come with me?"
Marissa stared into his eyes, seeing only the admiration and desire he felt for her. There was no desire to hurt or need to belittle, as there had been that night. She nodded slowly, feeling him easily gather her up and climb lithely to his feet. There was a grace in even that awkward movement that surprised her. “You remind me of one of your pets,” she said as she wrapped her arms around his neck
"Because I'm hairy and growl a lot?” he asked, making her chuckle.
"No, but now that you mention it, your coloring is a lot a like them.” She turned his head so she could see his eyes. “Especially here."
Lukah let her legs slide free, slipping down over his thighs until she stood in front of him, wrapped in his arms. “Go get undressed and put on the bathrobe behind the door. I'll get our wine and meet you outside on the deck."
"I don't have ... I won't need a suit, will I?” she said answering her own question.
"No. Marissa, if you want to stop, at any time, I will."
He looked at her with such tenderness that a smile touched her lips. “Okay. Will you unzip me?"
She turned, showing off the tiny zipper on the very back of the dress where it came to a vee at the small of her back. She could easily have reached it but she wanted to feel his hands on her once more. She felt his fingers find the small tab, pulling it down slowly, the two sides of the material parting to expose the thin lacey band of her thong and the top of her bottom where another band of lace bisected the two round cheeks.
His hand slid inside the gaping material, over the soft skin of her rear end, squeezing gently against the firm muscle. She heard him groan and felt his hand slide to her hip, pulling her back against him so she could feel the long ridge of his cock.
