by Ursula Bauer
He jerked back and dropped the stylus and the Mason jar.
“Oh my God! Gideon, I’m sorry!” Meg stuck the pot on the air conditioning unit and grabbed his hand in hers.
The contact ran through him like a bolt of pure lightning. Something inside of him snapped. “Meg, no.”
“Let me see. I’m a doctor.” The words died on her lips as she watched the burn fade, and his skin heal. “I guess you don’t need me after all.”
She released his hand, but it was too late. The last frayed thread holding him together came undone.
“I need you, Doc.”
He took her hand and pulled her hard against him. His cock pressed against her soft belly. The peaked tips of her breasts teased him. He slanted his head down, shifted his hold so he could hold her around her waist with one hand, and bury the other in the damp, silken mass of her curls. Then he captured her sweet, honeyed lips, kissing her as he’d fantasized a thousand times.
Chapter Six
Gideon took her mouth softly, savoring the taste. He skimmed the plush surface with a feather-light pressure, holding her gently, as if she were a treasure that should he squeeze too hard, would break in his hands. His cock was rock hard and ready, standing at attention, waiting for the call. She was a drug that made his heart race and his blood thrum. Her body sparked him like no other, setting loose a wild, needy desire that refused to be contained. He didn’t want to rush, he wanted to live every second touching her like a man who had lived a thousand good years. He wanted to cherish her, to show her skill and patience. And he wanted to devour her whole. He wanted to throw her down and let loose, take her to the edge of madness with him, bury himself inside her slick vault and forget anything but them and the moment that they shared.
The desire was so pure, so white hot and intense, it went well beyond simple lust, or anything he’d felt with a women in both mortal and immortal life. The fury frightened him and exhilarated him, taking him into dangerous, uncharted territory. He forced himself to stay in control, forced himself to slow down, but every second spent tasting her, touching her, wanting her, brought him closer and closer to the treacherous cliffs bordering the abyss of abandon. Somewhere, in the far distance of his mind, a small voice screamed a warning into the growing storm of passion, a warning that went unheard.
Meg’s eyes drifted closed as he intensified the kiss. She parted her lips, granting him entry, and he dove from the edge heedless of the rocks below. He swept his tongue inside of her, tasting her essence, savoring her. She responded, melting against him, boneless, yet wanting. Her tongue met his with gentle, teasing sweeps that inflamed him. Every nerve ending in his body flared to life. His senses were on fire, his body caught up in a maelstrom of sweet agony. He lowered his hand, tracing her spine as he skimmed across her body. She shivered at his touch, and he went lower still, marveling at the thrill Meg woke inside of him.
His hand followed the sweet curve of her hip, found the soft flesh of her rounded bottom and roamed the delectable mounds. His cock strained, desperate to be free. She moaned low in her throat, and he deepened the kiss, cupping her bottom, holding her so she knew how much he desired her, so there could be no question of his intent or his need. His skin ached as she ran her hands up his chest. She didn’t pull back. Instead she moved her hips in a sultry, subtle rhythm, pressing against him then shifting imperceptibly away, then moving back again for more torment. Through all the centuries no one woman had wielded such absolute control over him. He had to regain sanity, take back some measure of his own power, resist her and what he so desperately wanted from her.
He pulled back, drew in a ragged breath. They had to stop. He had to stop. If he didn’t, there would be no turning back. “I need you, Meg. More than is safe for both of us.”
Meg caressed his cheek with a loving touch, but her eyes held wicked promises of trouble to come. “I don’t want to be safe.”
She pulled him down to her once more, returning his kiss with a blistering one of her own that pushed him past all reason. She danced her hips closer, as she nibbled on his lower lip. The dueling sensations were a sweet torment. She was fire in his hands, liquid honey in his mouth, a siren singing him to his death. A dim part of him knew this had to stop, but the rest of him moved on pure, primal instinct. He wanted to lose himself in her and never find his way back.
———
This is what heaven is like.
Meg surrendered to the blissful sensations Gideon’s skilled kisses aroused. He showed her no mercy as he claimed her mouth with aggressive, bruising need. She knew he’d be a demanding lover, but he was a man crazed, and she loved every reckless moment. To be completely possessed, desired beyond reason, was as new to her as it was to desire beyond such reason.
She breathed in his heady scent instead of air as every masculine inch of him moved against her. He was a heart-jolting thrill that kept amping up higher and higher with no signs of stopping. Her pulse raced as a delicious heat built low in her belly. She moved hard against him now, seeking his swollen ridge. She wanted him to know the torment as she did, wanted him as mad and reckless as herself and she didn’t care what she had to do to bring him with her over that edge.
He made a sound between a growl and a groan, cupped both her buttocks and lifted her up from the floor. She spread her legs so she could get closer to him, while he moved her against him. He never stopped kissing, plundering her mouth as he teased her with the lure of satisfaction. An insistent, restless need plagued her, building with each subtle stroke his rigid, contained cock made. She held on to his broad shoulders and tilted her pelvis forward. The promise and the longing were tearing her apart in the most wonderful way.
She didn’t care that twenty-four hours ago she’d never met this incredible man. She didn’t care about the consequences of her lusty actions. Tonight all she cared about was living in the moment, giving in to the wild desires without regret. Artificial taboos of propriety and decorum turned to ash in the blazing realization that there were no more guaranteed tomorrows, no promised future, and no need to pretend otherwise. To hesitate now was to lose everything she never knew she wanted, or could have.
Gideon turned and settled her on the bed. He abandoned her mouth and moved to the sensitive flesh of her neck, raising goose bumps as he trailed low to her collar bone. Shifting his weight, he dipped his head lower still, nuzzling one breast, then the other with his mouth, teasing the hardened nipples through the shirt fabric. A line of white hot flame torched through her and she arched her back, inviting more of his sweet, sinful torture. She eased back, giving him open access to her body, encouraging him with her touch to give her more, to give her all. She couldn’t seem to draw breath, but it didn’t matter. She was alive, all her nerves awake and poised on the razor’s edge.
Gideon settled beside her, watching her with fevered eyes as he slipped his hand beneath her shirt to caress her breast. His thumb abraded her sensitized nipple, coaxing it to tighten even more. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back, and focused on the sublime feeling of his masterful touch. As he shifted his attention to her other breast, her final tether stretched and snapped. Meg moaned and reached for him, needing to feel all of him against all of her, skin to skin with nothing more to stand between them. She succeeded in grabbing a portion of his shirt, and he stopped briefly to help in its removal.
He rose over her, kissed her hotly, then moved down so he was poised over her torso. Her hands rode over him, feeling every rigid cord of muscle and sinew that tightened beneath the heated golden skin. A shudder worked through him, and she smiled. He felt the same pain, the same need. Good. It served him right for turning her world inside out and upside down. For turning her inside out and upside down.
He mastered control, and flashed her a wicked grin. Then he lowered his head, nudged up her already rumpled shirt, used his mouth on the ridge of her tight nipple. He was hot silk sliding over her. She gasped as a jolt rocked her very core. No man’s touch had ever brought h
er so close to orgasm. He was more than a man, though, and he was hers. She laced her fingers through his thick, spiky hair. She needed release, God she needed it so bad. He knew. He had to know. She was a moaning, panting mess, for God’s sake, but he kept up the sensual punishment, forcing her higher and higher but never giving that fatal push. “Please.” Her voice was raw, harsh, breathless. “No more.”
“If some is good, more is better.” He sucked and nipped, then increased the pressure as he captured the nub between his teeth. There was a moment of sharp pain followed by a flood of pleasure as he tongued it with a stiff, thrusting motion. The smell of sex filled the air like a lethal, drugging incense. She bucked against him, moving now without the guidance of her mind, following an ancient instinct for satisfaction on the most primal and basic of levels.
Despite his brave words, he couldn’t hold out any more than she. Gideon returned to capture her mouth with a kiss that stole her breath as he slipped off her jersey pants with a swift move she barely noticed. His next move, however, had all of her attention. His hand ventured to the apex of her thighs and she parted for him. The simple contact forced all the air from her lungs, and curled her toes. She ached for him in ways she couldn’t even comprehend. He stroked her inner thighs first, using the heel of his palm to rub against her mound with alternating pressure. “Now, Gideon. I want you now. No more games.”
Her crazy words scared her and thrilled her as she swirled in the torrent of his relentless attack. Gideon gave her what she desired, burying two fingers deep inside her slick core, fingering her expertly until she was dizzy and senseless.
“Come for me, Meg.” His deep voice penetrated the manic haze of pleasure. He increased the pace, pushing her beyond her limits, taking her to a dark, dangerous place. “Come for me.”
The combination of his magic touch and his deep, alluring voice shattered the last defenses, triggering an endless orgasm that swallowed her whole. She was only dimly aware of her own voice, calling out to him. She’d lost her mind. Fully lost her mind. And she’d never cared less in her life.
A loud horn blew caustically outside, shattering the silence of the night. As her tremors subsided, a cold breeze moved across her, chilling her.
“Gods, what am I doing?” Gideon rolled off her and stood. “This can’t happen. I’m sorry, Meg.”
Chill air swept across her bare skin, turning her sweat to ice. The afterglow of orgasm vanished in an instant. She regained some of her wits, and sat up. “Sorry for what? Did I seem upset?”
His eyes were hollow, his face held a haunted look. He stepped back from the bed, from her, as if she had the plague. The muscles of his neck were strained, as if he were in great pain. She could see his swollen cock rigidly outlined in his pants. He wanted her, as much if not more than she wanted him. She could see the inner war play out in his darkened eyes. “What’s wrong. We’re both adults here—”
“I’m an immortal, Meg. You’re mortal. I’m supposed to protect you. I can’t do this, and keep you safe.”
She could tell he was serious, that he really believed his words. There was underlying terror in his voice, mixed with no small dose of disgust. It made no sense. “Is it the spell? Is that why you don’t want this to happen?”
He ran a hand through his hair, took a haggard breath. “I’m going to take a shower. A long, cold shower. After that, we’ve both got a night to get through. We need to forget what’s between us. We can’t let this happen again.”
His body shimmered before her eyes and faded into a mist that filtered rapidly into the bathroom. The door slammed shut and the lock engaged. Meg sat in stunned silence, unable to understand or comprehend what just happened.
He’d played her body like she was meant for his hands, brought her pleasure like she’d never known. Then he stormed out on her like she’d attacked him. All she did was touch him. He was the one who started ravishing her, kissing away her breath. Meg collected herself and went to the kitchenette where she made herself a cup of decaf in the microwave.
What was wrong with her, she wondered angrily as she drank the tepid, weak brew. So she wasn’t one of his kind. What did it matter? What did one night of meaningless sex matter? People had one night stands all the time. She eyed the barrier of the locked bathroom door. Her body recalled his touch all too readily, and she frowned. She was willing to bet tall, dark and insane had more than a few one nighters himself. A man didn’t get to know how to work a woman’s body that fast without a load of practice. She sipped some of the dishwater decaf, then dumped the rest down the drain and cleaned the cup with fast, angry motions.
Frustrated, she climbed into the bed and hit the remote for the TV. She was too keyed up to sleep now, but she had no way to work it off, or deal with the embarrassment. She’d called out for him, came for him, and then when she wanted to return the favor, he walked away. What kind of normal man did that?
She pushed her hair from her eyes and let out a deep breath. Boy, she really was an idiot, wasn’t she. An idiot, and totally out of her depth. Apparently these immortals must have some kind of code. Maybe he had to say no, maybe he couldn’t give in to what she knew he desired until the mission was complete. Some of her earlier fury and confusion subsided. Yes. That was reasonable. He did say he couldn’t keep her safe if his mind was on other things. Gideon was a man who took his job seriously. Too seriously.
She flipped through channels, and settled on one running an uncut Phantom of the Opera. As she watched the crazed phantom struggle with madness, passion, pain and obsession, she was reminded of the moment where Gideon changed from confident to terrified in the blink of an eye. That haunted, pained look made her thoughtful, took some of the focus off her own issues. She wanted to have sex with him, screw him senseless. She knew he wanted the same. He was ready, she knew he was, up until that one strange moment. It was startling, revealing, showing her another side that lurked beneath that stony, hard-ass exterior. It made her wonder about him as a man, not just a buff soldier out to protect her from the big bad evil. It made her sit back and consider the person. What happened to Gideon to make him so cautious, to cause him such worry that he’d abandon his own pleasure?
The movie continued to play, and the bathroom door stayed locked. The shower ran like heavy rain, the only sound besides the TV in the small, rented cabin. She couldn’t get him out of her mind, couldn’t stop wondering about his past. Something happened way back when, she was certain of it, something that made him afraid of himself, afraid of his passions. But what?
A yawn stretched through her, then another. Meg shivered and got beneath the covers, arranging the pillows so she could see the last of the movie from a reclining position. She fell asleep to the ending credits, the eerie soundtrack lulling her into twisted, vicious dreams.
———
Gideon came out of his self imposed prison first as mist, the non-corporeal form that didn’t feel the normal sensations of the body. Meg was deep in sleep. The TV played a Technicolor test pattern. He materialized to form, picked the remote up from the floor beside her bed, and shut down the tube for the night. He stood over her for a long moment, his body recalling in vivid detail the taste and feel of her. She was made for him. He knew it as well as he knew his own rotten soul. She was so responsive, so uninhibited. He could love her through a million nights and it wouldn’t be enough.
Gideon shut out the light on the nightstand and finished fortifying the room. He’d cleaned up in the shower, but the cold water did little to help his need. In the end he’d given in, masturbating to memories of her moaning beneath him as he brought her over the edge. Even now, after emptying himself, he grew thick with need watching her sleep in the shadows. Gods, they could be so good together.
He could have taken her. She was ready for him, she wanted him. She told him as much. Her body was his for the asking, and he’d almost gone through with it. Almost shucked his clothes, stripped her bare, and shown her the true extent of his hunger.
The
n sanity returned, in one dark, crystalline, eminently painful moment. Thank the Gods he’d had the strength to stop. He wasn’t sure he could if it happened again. He told himself he needed to be the sane one. Meg was under far more stress than him. No doubt her desire was a reaction to that stress. He’d seen it before in other mortals when they learned the truth about reality, when they found themselves facing down death. They got extreme. They took risks they normally wouldn’t take on pain of death. Placid, safe Dr. Meg gave in to her libido because she thought her days were numbered. She wanted him, but he told himself she’d probably take any port in this storm.
She was vulnerable and he was pig enough to take advantage of her, letting sexual arousal cloud his judgment. He was a jackass, and he knew it. At least he’d managed to pull back at the last moment. She didn’t realize it, but if they’d made love, she’d hate him, and she’d hate herself more in the morning. He’d rather do without her than endure her loathing. A woman’s thoughts about him never mattered before, but no woman was ever like Megan Carter. Everything about her mattered, and he couldn’t stomach disappointing her.
He cleaned up the remainder of the magical supplies and finished off the wards by crossing the entryways to the room with the last of the sea salt. His body was taxed. Between the battles with demons and the battle with desire, it was spent. Gideon didn’t look forward to another night in a chair, then again, he’d had worse beds. He was a soldier, could sleep anywhere, under any conditions, always with one eye open.
He pulled over one of the yellow plastic chairs, stuck a bed pillow against the back, and settled in for a long night. He had the shotgun handy along with the rest of his weapons. The tattoo was active. All he had to do was speak the word and his sword would materialize in his hands. He kicked his legs up on the bed, stared long into the darkness, and eventually the memories of the past captured him in dreams.
