by Misty Dietz
The abdication of self that came full circle a thousandfold—a self-actualization—when they linked up on a shared wavelength.
His sac tightened, and he pulled back, grasping her under the arms to toss her back on the bed. His eyes darkened in that familiar way, watching her breasts jostle. He was past the point of leaving her now. She smiled and stretched languidly.
“Feeling cocky?” His voice was even deeper than normal as he reached for something from his jeans’ pocket, then stood looking down at her, rolling a condom down his length.
“Oh, yes, mi hombre hermoso.” She circled her nipples with her fingertips, then ran her hands down her belly, sliding her first and middle fingers across her labia, slick, so sensitized from his thorough loving that she gasped on contact, then gasped again as he landed full frontal on top of her. His thighs hiked her legs apart, his hips driving, rubbing his erection against her. She tried to keep up with his passionate assault, then just let go. Surrendered to wherever he wished to take her, take them both in this moment.
Don’t think about afterwards. He would start to think soon enough, and it would fall apart again.
Her heels pressed into his glutes as he lifted his hips. Closed her eyes as a wave of fear spread through her.
“Mya.”
Don’t think.
“Look at me. Mya.”
His body stilled. She could feel the effort it cost him. She opened her eyes, praying he was still with her. “Don’t think. Please, Jack.” Her eyes prickled. She wanted to hide but his eyes wouldn’t let her, his body pulsing at her center. I can’t bear it if you leave me right now.
“I love you, Mya.”
Tears blurred her vision. He kissed them away as his body slowly filled hers. Their joining, aching, slow, infinitely tender. Sighs and whispers wrapped them up in the arcane mystery as their hips met, drew apart, over and over, a slow dance carrying them to the well of their deepest desire. Finding each other there, they wandered through the maze of darkness to set each other free.
She clutched Jack to her breast when the pleasure shattered through her in a motley rush of heat and cold.
As his body seized, she laid herself bare, her walls lowered for him to storm. Come what may, she was open.
She was open.
To forever.
Or complete destruction.
Chapter Eleven
Jack’s consciousness rose when something soft and warm shifted beside him, a berries and coconut scent washing over him. He blinked against the bright sunlight streaming through the shutters, realizing where he was—Rosie’s guest bedroom—then closed his eyes again, pulling Mya closer against his body, her ass fitting perfectly into his hip girdle.
“Jack? Mya?”
His eyes snapped opened at the insistent call coming down the hallway. Ah, great. Gramma’s home.
Mya grumbled in her sleep, and he smiled, nuzzling into her hair despite the awkwardness of the situation. It was about to get weird in three, two—
“Jack! Are you home?” His door opened abruptly. “I saw a new truck in the gara—” Gramma’s eyes widened momentarily before a cheeky smile lit up her face. He put a finger to his lips, hoping they wouldn’t wake Mya yet, but—
“Oh shit!” Mya jerked up, pulling the coverlet across her breasts, a rapid blush flooding down her neck to spread across her chest. “Rosie, sorry, I…crap.” She tried to scoot to the edge of the bed, but Jack hooked an arm around her belly and slid her back against him.
“She’s been praying for this all along, so don’t worry,” he drawled.
Rosie turned away to start arranging the knick-knacks on his dresser. “Sorry to barge in on you this way, but I never anticipated…the middle of the day! Fascinating. Aaaanyway, I’m back and I had such a lovely time and that Ivy is such a wonderful individual, and her parents’ place….oy vey!”
Jack suppressed a grin. “Gramma, you mind giving us a minute to get dressed?”
Rosie looked embarrassed for the first time. “Oh, certainly! I’ll be in the kitchen. Feel like pancakes? You make love mid-day. Why not eat breakfast out of order, too, right? Okay, then, very good.”
She closed the door, singing down the hallway to the kitchen. Jack chuckled as Mya groaned.
“Oh my God, we were caught in bed by tu abuela!” She lunged away from him before he could grab her this time. The sight of her lithe, toned body made him forget all about grandmothers, pancakes, and getting caught.
“Come here, Mya.”
She threw him a fierce frown as she jumped up and down, pouring herself into her itty bitty jeans. “We’re out of condoms, hombre. Plus, I’m not getting busy with you while Rosie’s in the house. She probably thinks I’m a puta,” she spat. More Spanish self-recriminations followed.
“Trust me, she’s thrilled.” His smile dropped away. “First thing we need to do, though, is look for your phone. No more distractions.” He’d told her about the break in the case after the first time they’d made love, asking to see her phone since Officer Ramos hadn’t been able to contact her.
Mya’s head poked through the top of her tight, red t-shirt. “You’re not complaining are you?”
“Of course not, but the police found defaced pictures of you, a spreadsheet of your comings and goings, and instructions for making a bomb in that hotel room.”
“Why can’t they determine who was staying there?”
“I’d imagine most criminals use aliases,” he replied. Rosie’s command to join her in the kitchen came from down the hall. “So where’s your phone?”
“It’s in my purse next to the fridge. Must be dead.”
When she left the room, he took his time dressing, savoring the newness of their connection. He’d known what he was missing when he was so far away, but he always kept those thoughts—those emotions—locked down. Now, he tried not to over-think his confession.
He’d told her he loved her. She hadn’t said it back. Not that he’d expected her to. Not that he’d expected it to come flying out of his mouth either for chrissakes.
He closed his eyes, then followed his nose to the kitchen where Rosie was heaping pancakes on a plate, and Mya was digging through her purse.
“It’s got to be here…” She upended all the contents of her purse on the counter. “Huh. Maybe it fell out in your truck on the way back from Catwalk.” She started toward the garage door.
“Mya, wait,” Jack quickly followed her to his truck. “You can’t go anywhere alone anymore.”
She opened the driver’s side door, then paused. He looked over her shoulder to see a small folded note on the seat. He reached around her to pick it up, a chill threading through him even before he read the words.
She will be the death of your dreams. Let her go before you give me no other choice.
Chapter Twelve
Mya replayed the ominous words of the note over and over in her mind. She will be the death of your dreams. Let her go before you give me no other choice.
Someone didn’t want them to be together. Why? Who was it?
Someone had tried to hurt her all along, and Artie had suffered because of her.
Wait. She spun to Jack. “This is about you.” He didn’t speak, but she could see he realized it, too. “Whoever it is, she—or he—doesn’t want me to be with you. This person wants you for herself.” She grabbed the note from Jack’s hands, tore it in half, and tossed it to the concrete.
“Mya, no! It’s evidence.” He leaned down to pick up the pieces. A methodological expression unfolded across his features like it always did when he had a puzzle to solve. He and Rosie spoke in hushed voices by the door to the house, glancing at her from time to time as she stood next to the truck, trying to think.
The part that really hurt was someone thought she was incompatible with Jack’s dreams. How many others thought the same? Did they see her as a ball and chain that would hold him down, hold him back? She never wanted that. She understood the importance of dreams. If someone ever to
ld her to give up on her dreams, she’d put them in the rearview mirror.
She didn’t ever want to be the end of Jack’s dreams.
Rosie held her phone against her belly. “Come inside now, love.”
Mya walked woodenly inside as Jack’s gramma wrapped up her call.
“I just spoke to Ivy. I’m going back to Denver in an hour.” Rosie looked at Jack, placing a hand over her heart. “I’m worried about you two. Why don’t you go to San Francisco a week early? It’ll make me feel better.”
Jack’s glower darkened. “You’re playing the feeble-heart card now?”
“Jackson,” Mya scolded.
Rosie didn’t smile. “It’s justified. Please. I love you both.”
“It’ll be tough to leave for the whole week with school starting so soon,” he said.
“Tough to find yourself at the mercy of some obsessive sociopath, too,” Rosie said.
Mya looked at Jack, expecting to feel a million miles away from him, but something in his eyes pulled her close instead of pushed her away. He hooked Rosie in his arms and scooped Mya in as well, hugging them both. “Okay. Let me call Lilith. If she doesn’t murder me first, we’ll be on our way to San Francisco this afternoon.”
Jack kissed Mya, their lips lingering even though gramma still poked around in the kitchen. His hand gripped Mya’s jaw, trying to pour comfort into her skin, trying to reassure himself he could protect her. She pulled back first, running the pad of her thumb over his lower lip. “Who’s obsessing over you?”
“I can’t imagine anyone doing such a thing.” Honestly. He always kept to himself. He went out with colleagues from time to time, and he’d gone home with a stranger or two over the years, but he’d never led anyone to believe he was relationship material. “I’ve never let anyone in.”
“That doesn’t mean someone hasn’t loved you from afar. Or what they think is love anyway,” she said.
He shook his head, at a loss. He kissed her again, then held her in his arms briefly before going to his bedroom and dialing Lilith’s office phone.
“Dr. Erickson’s office.”
“Who is this?” he asked.
“Timber Hollows, starving graduate student who needs all the extra hours I can rack up,” she laughed briefly before continuing, “Is this Dr. Whiteside?”
“Yes, is Dr. Erickson available?”
“She ran down to Dr. Jorgerson’s office, but she should be back shortly. Is there something I can do for you?”
Lil had struck gold with this one. “Do you have the department’s meeting schedule for this week?”
“Yeah, you need me to send it to you?”
“Yes, thank you. Does it look like there’s anything that I absolutely shouldn’t miss?”
“If you need to split, it’s all good. There’s nothing this week I can’t take care of for you. If you want to give me your number, I can let you know if something comes up or your approval is needed on anything. Otherwise, this week and the next are okay to be gone. The week after that, not so much.”
“Excellent. I appreciate your help, Ms. Hollows.”
“You got it. And call me Timber. Hey, here’s Dr. Erickson. Talk soon!”
He could hear the two women talking in low tones as the phone was passed to Lilith. “Trying to steal my research assistant already, Whiteside?” Lil said without preamble.
“I’m leaving for California a week earlier than I’d planned. Just checking to see if there’s anything critical I need to attend to first.”
His statement was met with a silence thick with censure. He’d never had an argument with Dr. Erickson, and he hoped one wouldn’t start now. Sharing personal details felt unnatural to him, but he realized he needed to give a little so she could understand. Telling her about the break in the investigation would probably gain him the go-ahead, but something held him back from sharing that intel. “The dance competition is a week out, and Mya thought it would be advantageous for us to head to California early to practice in the venue where the competition is being held.”
“Because dancing on one floor is so vastly different from another? How lame, Jackson.”
His hand tightened on the phone. “You’re being remarkably insensitive, Lil.”
“Here’s the thing, Jackson. Did you come back for research or for dancing? You’ve clearly lost your focus. I’m disappointed.”
“I don’t see any reason why you or I can’t do what we do and have other hobbies at the same time.”
“I disagree, but this isn’t even about an extracurricular activity, Jack. This is about someone else.”
Heat spread through his veins. “How would you feel if someone you loved was in danger?” The minute the words were out of his mouth he regretted them, but he wasn’t sure why.
“It would be damned nice to know what it felt like to love someone that much,” she said, then hung up.
Chapter Thirteen
Jack pulled Mya out of the dip as the last strains of the music faded. Perfecto! She clapped her hands and then launched into his arms, wrapping herself around him. “We’re ready! I knew we could do this!”
As the week in San Francisco had progressed, she’d felt their bond strengthening. When they’d left Fort Collins she’d worried the opposite would be true. That Jack’s psycho secret admirer would drive them apart, but somehow it had had the opposite effect. This week had been a dream, and they were closer than ever. It had been a welcome relief to leave all the drama behind and not worry about their loved ones. Yes, the problems would be waiting for them when they returned, but for now she wanted to focus on the competition. Their dancing was more in sync than ever.
She ran over to her duffel bag and pulled out her street shoes, then sat down to remove her dance pumps. He stalked toward her with a look that ravished her on the spot. She shivered and giggled. “Let’s get tattoos!”
He paused, an adorable confusion passing over his features. “What?”
“I’ve wanted one for a long time, but I never knew what I wanted until this moment. Let’s go!”
He took hold of her hands and pulled her up. She would have ran out the door but he held her in place and began pressing persuasive kisses against her temples, her cheekbones, the corners of her lips.
“And now you know?”
“W-what?” When his hands skimmed across her nipples like that she couldn’t think.
He chuckled against her mouth. “Know what ink you want?”
“Yessss. Mmmmm.”
His hand, large and proficient, found its way under her kimono top, fingernails lightly scraping her sides, up, over her breasts, skimming the sensitized skin spilling above the demi bra she wore, then sliding to her back, pulling her hips tight against him.
“What would you have them draw?”
“Stop. T-talking,” she ordered. His lips trailed across her neck, his breath raising goosebumps all across her body.
“I thought you liked it when I came out of my shell.”
“I like your hands on my shell better right now.”
“What else do you like?” His hands curled under her butt cheeks, lifting her body, spreading her legs, hooking them around his trunk. She wrapped her arms around his neck, licked the side of his face, and ground herself into the thick, hard ridge in his dress slacks, too far gone to feel any shame.
“Glad to be of service.”
“Mmmm.”
“Looks like I’ll have to be the sensible one again.” His stuffy words belied the rough-edge to his voice that portended all manner of carnal delights. He began walking to the back of the room.
She lifted her lips from his neck. “It’s so late, no one will be coming.”
“Oh, I disagree. More than one of us will be coming. Very, very loudly,” he said wickedly, continuing across the dance floor. He set her on her feet in the janitor’s closet, pulled the door shut, wrapping them in cozy darkness. Then her shirt was off, quickly followed by her bra, her pants, then he was on his knees an
d—ooooo—his clever fingers were soon replaced by his mouth and—
Oh. My. God.
A thin stream of light filtered from the crack beneath the door. Her vision blurred as she climaxed at the third sweep of his tongue. The orgasm unfurled down her legs. She grasped his shoulders, sinking into his arms as he stood, his mouth fusing to hers. Blindly, her fingers found the condom in his pocket. She pulled his erection free, sheathing him slowly as he groaned.
His forearm swept a menagerie of cleaning supplies off the tiny counter before he hoisted her upon it. They gasped in unison as their bodies met. He pulled back, fingers of one hand digging into the skin of her waist, the other hand palming her breast. He groaned and drove home again. And again. Over and over until the pleasure burst at her center and carried outward like bright, pulsing shrapnel that healed instead of destroyed.
He grasped her to him as his body spasmed. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding him until the tremors evened out. Tell me you love me. He hadn’t since that first time they’d made love a week ago. Of course, she hadn’t said the words either. Had he really meant it, or was it simply the overwhelming release that caused the words to fall from his lips?
He kissed her once more in the dark, then reached back to switch on a single lightbulb that flickered in the small room while they cleaned up. They froze when someone entered the outer room where they’d left their things in the heat of the moment. Jack helped her finish dressing, then they ran out of the closet, grabbed their bags, and smiled their goodbyes to the surprised, grizzled man standing with a mop in his hand.
They ran out into the evening, laughing. “Ready for some ink?” he asked.
Mya glanced at him as he twined his fingers with hers. “Are you serious?” This wasn’t like him. Two years ago he hadn’t wanted her to get one. Tattoos weren’t logical. They carried risk of infection, allergic reaction, and scarring, he’d argued. So she hadn’t gotten one to appease him.
