by J. C. Wilder
“Are you okay?” He stepped forward soundlessly and she noted that his feet were bare. There was something sexy about a man’s bare feet.
“Yes.” She stepped back and bumped into the stove. She turned and dropped the pan on the hot burner. Pull it together, girl.
“What are we having?”
“Grilled cheese.” Erihn dropped more butter in the pan and reached for the sandwiches.
“Sounds good. Is that pitcher of tea still in the living room?”
“Yes, I forgot to bring it in here.”
“I’ll get it.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him walk to the living room, leg muscles rippling beneath his jeans as he moved. It should be a crime to wear jeans that well. She fought the urge to sigh like a besotted teenybopper. What was wrong with her? She’d never lost her mind over a man before. She dropped the sandwiches into the butter as Fayne returned with the pitcher. The tattoo caught on his arm caught her attention.
“Why did you get a tattoo?” she blurted.
He glanced at the ring of thorns on his arm. “It’s to remind me of something I learned long ago.” He refilled both their glasses then went to the freezer to get more ice. “Your tea’s good. What’s in it?”
“Herbs. Mint, mostly. It’s a nice, calming blend for the morning. I make it myself.” She poked at the sandwiches, checking to make sure they weren’t burning. “Can I ask what the lesson was?”
He took a long drink of his tea, almost draining the glass. “Something in here tastes familiar.”
“Probably chamomile. It’s used in a lot of foods.”
“Hmm, could be.” He refilled his glass and sat down at the small kitchen table. “Now what where you saying?”
“What did the thorns…”
He nodded, “Oh yeah…I remember now. The thorns are to remind me of the perils of my previous life, as it were.”
“What do you mean by previous life?” Erihn neatly flipped the sandwiches then turned to face him. “Do you mean you’ve lived before?”
He laughed, and it wasn’t like his normal, rolling chuckle. It was an out-and-out guffaw. He took a big drink from the glass and set it down with a crack. “Have I lived before! Boy, have I ever.” He shook his head as if bemused. “Wow, my head feels funny.”
Erihn frowned. He wasn’t acting like himself at all. Was he sick? “Fayne?”
He stared out the windows in the direction of the bird feeders. Erihn glanced outside to see two crows flirting with each other. One darted a few feet away before stopping to bellow at the other. Erihn turned to see Fayne watching the birds intently. His gaze flicking back and forth as they played.
“Fayne, are you okay?”
“Oh, yeah…” he sighed. “I’m just g-g-great.” The word ended with a strange, animallike growl.
“Are you allergic to anything?” His eyes focused on hers, his dilated pupils setting off alarm bells in her mind. “Did you take anything before you came upstairs?”
“No.” He shook his head then frowned. “Not ‘llergic to anything.”
“Are you a diabetic?”
“Nope.”
Erihn started toward him, concerned. Something was very wrong, and thanks to the mudslide farther down the mountain, she couldn’t even call an ambulance. “Fayne, I think…”
He startled her by jumping to his feet. When he wobbled a bit she reached out and steadied him. His arm was warm beneath her hand and he waggled a finger in front of her nose.
“That’s your problem. You think too much.” He giggled then rubbed his stomach. “Wow, I’m hungry. Are you hungry?” He moved to the refrigerator, his steps lacking their normal grace.
If he was sick, what should she do?
“Food’s burnin’,” he announced.
Erihn spun and grabbed the pan off the burner. Maybe if she fed him, he’d feel better. Hurriedly she found a plate and slid the hot sandwiches onto it. She turned as he pulled a pint of mint ice cream out of the freezer.
“Sandwiches are ready.”
“’Kay.” He wandered back to the counter, wrestling with the top of the carton all the way. Finally, he wrenched it off. “Tadddaaa.”
“Do you have a fever?” she asked, trying to put her hand on his forehead.
He frowned and batted her hand away from his face. “Mm fine,” he mumbled. He pulled open a drawer to paw through the cutlery. He located a spoon and dug into his prize.
Erihn managed to cup her hand around the back of his neck. Ignoring the shiver that tingled over her skin, she found him quite warm. Too warm, in fact.
“Fayne, you have a fever.”
“No doan’t,” he mumbled around a mouthful of ice cream. “Boy, it’s hot in here. Do you think it’s hot in here? I know I do. Have I ever told you how much I hate clothing?” He relinquished his spoon and reached for the snaps on his jeans. “I really hate clothing.”
“Fayne…” She reached to stop him.
“If I had my way, I’d run around nekkid all the time. I think everyone should run around nekkid…”
Erihn gulped when he unbuttoned his jeans. He didn’t appear to have anything on underneath.
“Fayne…”
“Thatz my name, doan wear it out,” he snorted with laughter.
Erihn caught her lip between her teeth. Obviously, he was ill. Maybe she should try and get him into bed. “I think, maybe, you should lie down for a while.”
He grinned. “Remember what I said…” he trilled in a singsong voice. He shook his head and dropped his pants at the same time. “Voila!”
Erihn gasped, “Oh, my lord.” Her gaze fastened on his hipbone. A tattoo of a panther covered his hip from his waist to the top part of his thigh. A panther on the prowl, crouched, its expression intent. It was one of the most amazing things she’d ever seen…on a human body, that is. There was something incredibly erotic about a tattoo hidden by clothing. She blinked. It certainly wasn’t hidden now.
Fayne laughed then overbalanced, stumbling into the counter with a thud. His bleary eyes glinted. “Your turn,” he purred.
“I don’t…”
“Uh-uh-uh…doan say it.” He stared at her, his eyes filled with longing. “You’re so beautiful.” He frowned then looked around as if confused and caught sight of the sandwiches. “Mmm…” He stumbled to the table, his gait rolling as if he were on a ship. He picked up a sandwich and closed his eyes as he took a bite.
“Heavenly,” he mumbled around a mouthful.
Before Erihn could fully comprehend what she was seeing—an almost naked man eating a grilled cheese sandwich in the middle of the kitchen—he’d finished one and picked up another.
“These are grrrrrreat,” he growled, finishing the second one. “I’m thirsty…more tea.”
He reached for his glass and Erihn lunged, removing it from his reach. He definitely needed to lie down, and the closest vertical surface other than the floor was the couch. She didn’t want to risk getting him on the steps to his room and having him lose his balance.
“How about some nice refreshing ice water?” She whisked the tea glass away and dumped it into the sink. “You’ve had enough tea.” She turned. “Why don’t we go lay on the couch?”
Fayne leaned against the kitchen wall, a smile playing about his gorgeous mouth. “Wanna lay down with me?”
Erihn approached him and looped an arm around his waist. An electric jolt went through her as he dropped an arm over her shoulder.
“Well, of course, I do, Fayne. We’re friends, aren’t we?” She led him toward the archway into the living room.
“We’re more’n that, Erihn. Doan you see?” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and she shivered. “You cold?” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “I can warm you.”
She stumbled as his lips grazed her ear. “Stop that.”
He rumbled a funny little laugh when he tugged her down the steps into the living room. “Gotta shay the sh-ecret word.”
She positione
d him by the couch and stepped out from under his arm. He wavered on his feet as she placed her hands on his chest and pushed lightly. He collapsed on the cream-colored cushions.
“Is the secret word ‘nighty night’?” She smiled at his startled expression. “Do you know if you’re allergic to any herbs?”
He waved his hand as if to brush her concerns aside. “Naw…nuthin’. What wuz in that tea, anyway? It wuz good.”
“Mint mostly. Some chamomile, touch of bergamot and some catnip.”
Fayne blinked, his body slowly sliding to one side. “Catnip?”
“Yeah. It’s a great relaxant, and it’s very good for—”
A bellow of laughter cut her off as he slid face first into the couch cushions.
“What…is it the catnip?” Erihn touched his shoulder to get his attention.
He raised his head, looked at her before dissolving into laughter again. “Catnip,” he gasped. “I can’t ‘lieve I let y’feed…cat…” He shook his head.
She resisted the urge to stomp her foot. “I really don’t see what’s so funny. Do I need to call a doctor?”
“N-no. I fine.” He calmed, a smile hovering on his lips. “Sleep…”
He tried to get his legs onto the couch. After the second time he missed, she bent, grabbed his ankles and helped him turn onto his back and stretch out.
He gave her a sleepy smile. “Thangs,” he slurred.
Erihn ran her hand over his forehead. He was quite a sight. Sinfully sexy and disreputable, his hair tousled and wearing only his vest and a panther tattoo on his hip. She moved beside the couch, trying to ignore his nude state and his manhood lying semierect against his belly. Was there a time when he wasn’t hard? She should find something to cover him with.
“Are you sure?” she asked, still worried. She’d never heard of this strong a reaction to catnip in a human being. In a cat, that was another story. Maybe she could use it in her next book. The heroine could give the hero catnip, then have her way with him…
Erihn squeaked when Fayne grabbed her wrist and yanked her down on top of him. Plastered against him like wallpaper, she was vividly aware of the heat and scent of the man beneath her.
“Nap with me,” he purred. He wrapped his arms around her, pressing her head to his shoulder. “So pretty…might jest keep this one…” And, like that, he was asleep.
She raised her head and looked into his sleeping face. He was so beautiful, he was almost painful to look at. She shifted into a more comfortable position. His arms warm around her, she settled her head on his chest, his heart and a very odd purr reminiscent of his cat against her ear. Maybe he had a heart murmur?
Erihn closed her eyes and tried to think of any other place she’d rather be.
She couldn’t think of one.
* * * * *
“We need to go home.”
Bliss started as Max’s softly spoken words derailed her train of thought. She looked up from her journal to her young charge standing in the bedroom door. Instead of the light cotton pajamas he’d gone to bed in, he was fully dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt. She hid a smile, noting he had the shirt wrong side out.
“What’s the matter, Max? Did you have a bad dream?”
“No.” His voice was low. “We must go.”
A trickle of foreboding ran down her back. “Why do we have to return to Colorado, Maxie? We still have three weeks left here.”
“He’s coming.”
She froze. She didn’t have to ask who he was. “Did you have a bad dream, Max?” she asked, striving for a calm tone.
“I saw him. He’s waiting for me.”
Bliss swallowed. “Where is he waiting for you?” she whispered.
“Home. He’ll kill Fayne and the marked woman.” Max took a few steps into the room. His eyes were black, flat. “We must go.”
She shut the journal and dropped it beside her on the bed. “Maxie, I can’t take you back there. If he is waiting for you, your father would want me to keep you safe.”
“I go, then.” Woodenly, he turned and walked back to his room.
She bit her lip, unable to decide what to do. If there was a problem in Colorado, returning Max was the worst thing she could do. But if she didn’t take him back, she knew he’d look for a way to escape on his own, and he wouldn’t give up until he succeeded. Max might only be six, but he was going on forty.
Bliss rose from the bed and reached for the clothing she’d discarded only an hour before. She needed to contact her pilot if they were going to return to America.
She braced herself for the long night to come.
Chapter Seven
Erihn had never experienced such an erotic dream.
Her nipples, still damp from his mouth, tingled as a soft breeze caressed them. She sighed when hot lips pressed open-mouthed kisses down her stomach. Teeth grazed the edge of her belly button and she smiled at the sensation.
Strong hands stroked her hips before coaxing her to lift them. Calloused fingers hooked the top of her panties and slid the cotton down her thighs, caressing each inch as they traveled south. Even her ankles received warm, lingering kisses.
Magical hands massaged her calves, teeth nibbled at her inner knee, nipping at the sensitive flesh. A purr slipped from her lips. She grew damp as delicious fingers teased their way up her legs. She ached for him to touch her.
Warm fingers curled around her left ankle. She followed their lead and lifted her leg, placing it on the back of the couch. She let the other foot slide to the floor.
Her forehead pleated. Couch? Why wasn’t she in bed? Why was she on the couch?
Bewildered, she opened her eyes and directly in her line of sight was Fayne’s flower arrangement on the coffee table. The events of the past few hours came rushing back in a dizzying blur. Where was… She looked around the room, stopping when she found him.
Crouched between her spread legs, Fayne’s gaze was locked on hers as he pressed a kiss to her upper thigh, his eyes clear and bright. He was going to… She was nude! Her dress was partially unbuttoned and gaped open while the skirt was pushed up around her waist.
She reached for his hand. “Fayne?”
He sank forward, his arms snaking under her thighs and up the sides of her body. Skimming his hands over her skin, he laced his fingers with hers as he lowered his head.
Erihn bit back a scream as his tongue breached her defenses and went for the prize. Warm sensations overwhelmed her as his tongue stroked her clitoris. Erihn closed her eyes, her fingers tightening on his as waves of rapture flooded her system. She trembled beneath his touch, straining for more as he settled into a rhythm that had her panting and straining against his mouth.
She clung to him, glorying in his touch, his mastery of her body. He knew exactly how to touch her, how to overwhelm her senses. She raced toward the peak and dangled on the edge, her body taut. He pulled away, forcing a moan of protest from Erihn.
“Look at me,” he rasped.
Erihn opened her eyes. Looking down her body, she met his gaze. He licked his lips and lowered his head to cover her once more and he purrrrred…
“Fayne…”
Erihn screamed as her climax consumed her, and still he didn’t stop. Vibrations raced from the tip of her toes to the top of her head as wave after wave of delight inundated her. The contractions seemed to last forever, and her awareness of time dwindled to the slightest thread. Just when it seemed she couldn’t last another second, his tongue brushed her sensitive flesh, setting off another wave of reality-altering tremors.
Spent, she sagged against the couch, gasping for air as he pulled away. Her eyes half-closed, her body slick with sweat, she was limp, drained. Her breath raged in her throat while she drifted back to reality. Her body fairly hummed with satiation as aftershocks seized her limbs. She couldn’t stir to cover herself as Fayne released her and moved from between her legs.
Through half-closed eyes, she watched as he rose from his cramped position, muscles moving
in complete harmony. He stretched, his manhood jutted proudly from a thatch of springy ginger-colored hair. The panther tattoo on his hip undulated when he crouched beside her, his expression tender as he outlined her lower lip with a finger.
Erihn blinked, her tongue feeling thick and uncoordinated. “Was that retribution for making you sick?”
Fayne slid his finger to the corner of her mouth, where the scar began. “And what would you do if it was?”
Erihn moved her head. Snaking her tongue out, she licked his finger. He pulled away, his expression startled. She stretched, delighting in the way his gaze heated as he watched her. She fairly purred satisfaction. “I think I need to brew some more tea.”
“I don’t think we need any more of that right now.” He licked his lips, his voice strained.
“I know what we need,” she whispered.
Her gaze dropped to his jutting erection. Under her scrutiny, it leapt, lengthening and thickening. A drop of fluid pearled at the broad tip. A rush of lust unfurled through her body, shocking her with its intensity. After their activities of the past few minutes, she hadn’t expected such an intense craving so quickly.
She wanted him.
Now.
Erihn sat up and swung her legs off the couch. Rising to her feet, she held out her hand and said nothing. His gaze sharpened, questioning. She didn’t know what he saw in her expression, but whatever it was, it was enough. His fingers curled around hers and he got to his feet.
Leading the way, Erihn turned with her gentle giant trailing behind her, docile as a lamb. She only hoped he didn’t stay that way for long. She climbed the first step leading to the hallway and stopped. Turning, she noted they were now very close to the same height. With her free hand, she touched the silk of his hair. Unbound, it fell just below his shoulders in dark reddish-brown waves.
She slid her fingers into the soft strands, her nails scraping lightly at his scalp. His eyes were half-closed and he tipped his head back and encouraged her attentions by stepping closer. She released his hand and plunged her fingers into his hair, massaging his scalp and eliciting a groan.
She brushed her lips over his. This was the second time she’d initiated a kiss, only this time, she knew how to do it properly. His lips parted beneath hers and she invaded. Her tongue tangled with his, alternating between flirting and seduction. His arms slid around her waist and she leaned into him. She stroked beneath his left ear, and he jerked against her, breaking the kiss.
