by Lynsay Sands
"Boys have slim hips," he said firmly. "Women have curves. It is how it is meant to be."
"Yeah, but I have way too many curves," she argued at once.
"I like your curves," Tomasso assured her, moving closer. "And your breasts are perfect. Every time I look at them I want to peel your clothes off and hold and kiss them."
Abigail swallowed. His hands had moved to her waist and slid up her sides as he spoke. They now rested there, his thumbs lightly brushing the sides of her breasts. It was an innocent caress really, at least his thumbs were nowhere near her nipples or anything, but that light caress was still sending shivers down her spine. His words hadn't helped, of course. Now Abigail had that image in her mind, of his peeling her clothes away and--
"You are trembling," he said, his voice a husky growl. "And you are looking so . . ." Tomasso closed his eyes briefly and then opened them again and said, "You must stop looking at me like that, Abigail, or . . ."
"Or what?" she whispered, moving a little closer.
Tomasso hesitated and then shook his head slightly and frowned. "We should not do this. Not here. Not now."
He was probably right, Abigail acknowledged to herself. They should keep walking, should check on Jet and report in to Tomasso's people. But her body was trembling . . . with need for him. Still, she tried to fight it off, and eased back the step she'd taken forward with a little sigh. Trying to distract herself, she asked, "What is a life mate?"
Tomasso groaned as if she'd asked him to make love to her and growled, "A life mate is everything."
Abigail's eyes widened at that, and then his thumbs stopped sliding along the sides of her breasts as his hands shifted position. One slid around her back to urge her forward, while the other rose to cup the back of her head and tilt it as his mouth descended on hers.
Like every kiss she'd experienced from this man, this one was a powerhouse of passion and need. Honestly, Abigail didn't stand a chance of resisting him. Not that she wanted to really. Surely a few minutes' delay in their walk would not make so much difference, she told herself.
When his hands suddenly dropped to her waist to lift her up so he didn't have to bend so far, she didn't just wrap her arms around his shoulders, but her legs instinctively wrapped around his hips too to help him bear her weight. The action positioned her core right over his leafy loincloth, and Tomasso growled into her mouth as his hands shifted to cup her behind and press her more firmly against him.
Abigail gasped at the contact, and adjusted her legs so that she dropped a little lower, sliding along his shaft.
"Dio!" Tomasso gasped, breaking their kiss and dropping to his knees in the sand. "Ti voglio."
Abigail didn't have a clue what that meant and didn't care. Grasping his head, she pulled his face back to kiss him again, this time thrusting her own tongue out to find his. Tomasso responded at once, kissing her back, his tongue dueling with hers.
She felt the cold wet sand on her back and then the cool breeze on her stomach as his hands pushed the material of her tank top up, and then that evening breeze was caressing her breasts and she broke their kiss to glance down and see that her blouse had fallen to the side, her tank top was now gathered under her chin, and Tomasso had managed to tug her bra down to get at her breasts. They were now squeezed up and together by the neckline of the simple white cotton of her bra. Even as she noted that, Tomasso's head ducked and he closed his lips over one hard, rose-colored nipple.
"Ahhh!" Abigail cried, her head falling back onto the sand and her back arching upward as he drew gently on the already erect nub.
Tomasso's leg was between both of hers, his upper thigh pressing firmly against her core, and Abigail twisted her head and moaned as he began to knead and squeeze her breasts while his mouth drifted from one to the other. Just when she didn't think she could stand it another moment, he abandoned her breasts and returned his mouth to hers, covering and devouring it in another passionate kiss that had her clinging to him with desperate need.
Shifting her hips to ride his leg, Abigail broke their kiss and turned her head to the side to gasp, "Please, Tomasso."
"Si, bella," he muttered, kissing his way to her throat as his hands left her breasts to slide down across her stomach. She felt her jeans suddenly loosen, and then felt them being pushed down over her hips to just below her bottom, but that was as far as they went before his hand replaced them, dipping between her legs to explore what he'd revealed.
"Oh God!" Abigail cried, thrusting into his caress. She felt something sharp scrape her throat, and then Tomasso's weight was gone.
Blinking her eyes open with confusion, she saw that he'd shifted up to kneel over her. His hand was still between her legs though, still dancing over her damp skin, but now he was watching her through hooded eyes, his mouth tight as he pleasured her.
"Tomasso?" she gasped uncertainly, her hips still dancing to the tune he was strumming.
"Enjoy it, bella. You are so beautiful. I want to watch you find your pleasure."
They were pretty words, but Abigail was suddenly terribly aware that she was lying there with her tank top under her neck, her breasts poking out of the top of her bra and her pants around her ass. She was almost completely on display, every love handle, any cellulite, even her muffin top, which could better be described as a cake top. He could see all of it.
No, no, no, no! Her mind screamed and Abigail's hips immediately stopped moving, her hands started dancing around trying to hide everything he was looking at. She just didn't have enough hands for that task, or big enough ones, or--
"Abigail, stop. You are beautiful," Tomasso growled, and caught one of her hands with his free one. Dragging it down her body, he placed it around his erection under his leafy loincloth. "Feel how beautiful I find you."
Eyes wide, Abigail stared up at him as she felt just how beautiful he found her. Damn, if one was to judge by how hard and large he'd grown, she was Aphrodite in his eyes. The man must be blind, she decided and-grateful for that blindness--she tightened her hold on him and let her hand slide his length.
Tomasso cried out, his hips bucking under the caress, but strangely enough, so did Abigail as a new shaft of pleasure shot through her as well. Eyes wide, she tried the action again and got the same result. A sharp, keen shaft of pleasure pulsed through her as if he had caressed her, yet his hand had suddenly gone still.
"No. Dio. Smettila, mi stai uccidendo," he growled, catching her hand and trying to stop her.
Abigail had no idea what he'd just said, but had no intention of stopping now. Instead, she clasped him more firmly and began to move her hand in a continuous pumping action. Within seconds she was squirming in the sand under the assault of wave after building wave of excitement and pleasure.
God, this was--Her thoughts died on a startled cry and she arched so hard Abigail was surprised she didn't break her back as Tomasso didn't just begin to caress her again, but slid one finger inside of her, hard, filling the aching emptiness. Stars burst behind her closed eyes and her cry became a long drawn-out scream as pleasure exploded over her. Her voice only died when unconsciousness crept in to claim her.
Six
Abigail was the first to wake up. Hot morning sunlight was beating down on her face and blinding her when she first opened her eyes. She threw her arm sleepily over her eyes to protect them, and then just lay still for a minute as she became aware of the sensations she was experiencing.
Warm water was lapping at her right arm and hip. The sand under her was hard and cool, something prickly was tickling the skin of her upper leg, and something heavy was lying on her lower stomach and legs keeping her warm. Abigail was also thirsty as all get-out. Crazy thirsty. She had some serious cottonmouth and could have used a toothbrush followed by a large glass of water right then. She'd follow that up with a buttermilk biscuit, sweet cream waffles, and a side of applewood-smoked bacon, Abigail thought, her mouth watering at the imagined meal. But then memory returned and she knew she'd be making do
with coconuts and coconut water. It wasn't like there was a handy restaurant anywhere nearby.
Dragging the arm from her eyes, Abigail opened them cautiously and looked up at the sky. The sun was high overhead. So much for their hour break. By her guess they'd slept more than eight hours. It looked like it was close to noon. Recalling her watch, she lifted her arm again and surveyed the time. Yep. Eleven thirty a.m. Not only had they slept through the rest of the night, they'd slept away the morning as well. She was a pathetic excuse for a friend. The only bright spot was that Tomasso apparently was too, she thought, and lifted her head to peer down her body at him.
The view afforded to her from this angle was not a pretty one. It wasn't Tomasso. He was always gorgeous, and even from this angle the top of his head and his wide shoulders looked sexy as hell to her. It was herself that was less than inspiring. She was as pale as the belly of a dead fish, and all of her lumps and bumps were depressing. Even her breasts, which she normally thought were okay, just did not win any prizes squeezed out of the top of her bra as they were. They looked like popping eyeballs in a cartoon.
Grimacing, Abigail quickly pushed her boobs back into the bra and straightened it the best she could. She then tugged her tank top down to just above Tomasso's head. There was nothing she could do about her jeans being around her ass, though, at least not as long as Tomasso was lying on her. The problem was, if she woke him up, he'd sit up and see her lying there with her va-jay-jay on display. Can we say awkward?
Really? some corner of Abigail's mind asked with derision. Playing the modesty card now? After what had gone down last night?
Deciding that corner of her mind was a bitch, Abigail considered her situation and how to get out of it. Maybe she could just slide out from under him. If she did it slowly, he might not wake up. Right?
Grimacing now, Abigail braced her hands in the sand on either side of her, one resting on wet sand, one sinking into dry, and then tried to worm herself to the side. All she did was kind of roll her hips a bit, and Tomasso immediately murmured sleepily, smacked his lips as if he was dreaming of pancakes, and then turned and lowered his head so that his mouth was practically kissing her between the legs. The only good thing was she now knew what had been so prickly against her upper leg, Tomasso's now ten-o'clock shadow. It was now prickly against her inner thigh.
Oh, yeah. This wasn't going to be awkward at all, Abigail thought sarcastically and wondered what the deal was with this passing out after sex business? Not that they'd actually had sex, she reminded herself. They'd mostly just fooled around a bit.
Abigail smiled wryly at the term. It didn't seem to cover the earth-shattering experience she'd had. Neither did groping, touching, fondling, or stroking. That may have been what went on, but . . . wow! A little fondling from Tomasso was like a full-on orgy with anyone else. Gawd! She was still wet this morning. Although, to be fair, she was lying half in the surf which might be part of it, Abigail thought. Certainly her jeans were soaking wet from absorbing the water.
But last night, when Abigail's orgasm had crashed over her, fireworks had exploded behind her eyes. The man had some powerful mojo, and if that's what some heavy petting with him was like, she couldn't wait to experience the full meal deal with him.
Just not right now, Abigail thought with a frown. Right now she was becoming aware of a rather urgent need to relieve herself, which meant she had to get out from under Tomasso, get up, and find a private spot to tend to the matter.
Her gaze slid with longing to the jungle at the top of the beach, and then back to the top of Tomasso's head. Her last move had made him shift his head off of her stomach and between her legs. That was something anyway, Abigail thought and sat up slowly. Once upright, she let out a little huff of relief. She hadn't disturbed him. Yet.
Grimacing, Abigail considered their positions, then slid one hand under his cheek and began to ease his face up and away from her groin. She'd lifted it perhaps an inch and had just started to try to shift it to the side and off of her when his eyes suddenly snapped open. Abigail froze at once and offered him a weak smile.
"I need to get up," she explained with embarrassment.
One eyebrow lifted on his forehead. Actually, both might have, but she could only see one at that point, and then Tomasso rolled away from her and launched himself to his feet.
Letting out the breath she'd been holding, Abigail immediately started to try to get to her own feet. It was surprisingly hard to do with your jeans around your upper thighs and she was struggling with it a bit when Tomasso bent and simply grasped her by the waist and lifted her to her feet.
"Thank you, I--" Abigail bit off her own words and grimaced with embarrassment. Not satisfied with helping her up, Tomasso had bent to pull first her panties and then her jeans up for her. He then even did up the fly and button of her jeans as if she were a child. When he finished with the task, he started to straighten, and then paused half upright to press a kiss to her forehead.
"You look bella," he complimented as he straightened.
Abigail smiled weakly at the comment, suspecting the man was just being kind, then moved past him toward the jungle. "I need to go."
Apparently Tomasso understood what that meant. At least he didn't ask questions, but simply let her slip away to find a private spot.
Tomasso followed Abigail up the beach to the edge of the trees. He paused as soon as he reached the shade though. He didn't want to intrude on her privacy; he'd just needed to get out of the sun. Leaning against the trunk of a large palm tree, he stared out at the ocean, absently rubbing his stomach with one hand.
He felt horrible this morning, worse even than the day before. Unfortunately, he knew exactly why and there was little he could do about it. Tomasso needed blood. Yesterday he'd been suffering mild stomach cramps with the need. Today those cramps had multiplied in strength and spread out. Every organ in his body was being attacked as the nanos that gave him his strength and speed searched for blood to support themselves.
As idyllic as this little aventura with Abigail had been, and it had been delightful at times, Tomasso needed to get to civilization and a blood source. It was that or he might soon lose control and attack Abigail. He didn't want that. He'd already come too close to doing so last night while he'd made love to her. It was after she'd broken their kiss to cry his name with such need. Eager to fill that need, Tomasso had been kissing her neck as he undid and pushed her jeans down. With his nose against her throat, the scent of her blood had been easily detectable through her skin, and he'd felt its pulse against his lips and tongue. Tomasso's fangs had immediately slid out and scraped across her skin. Just as he was about to unthinkingly plunge them into her throat, he'd realized what he was doing and had abruptly sat up and shifted to his knees to get his fangs as far away from her throat as he could. After that, he'd allowed himself only to caress her. There had been no more kissing, no more licking and he'd refused to risk making love to her as he wished for fear he might inadvertently bite her in his excitement if he got near her throat again.
Fortunately, Abigail hadn't seemed to mind. At least not after the first moment or two of surprise. But once he'd placed her hand on the proof of how much her body pleased him, she'd seemed to be fine with this new turn.
Tomasso felt his cock harden at the memory of her firm, silky hand sliding over it and smiled wryly to himself. It was a state he knew he might as well get used to. As his life mate, Abigail would always have that effect on him. Touching her, tasting her, making love to her . . . hell, just thinking about her and looking at her would quickly produce this reaction in him. He'd definitely met his life mate.
Now he just had to hold on to her, Tomasso thought wryly, and suspected losing control and attacking her would not be likely to aid in that endeavor.
Sighing, he pushed away from the tree and headed for the water. It wasn't good for him to be out in the sun. That would just increase his need for blood, and raise the chances of his losing control, but he neede
d to cool off and think. He had to get them to civilization quickly, and this walking business was not proving to be much of a success so far.
It wasn't Abigail's fault. True, she'd tired quickly last night, but after a brief rest she'd been game to continue walking. It had been his inability to keep his hands off of her that had brought a halt to the walk in the end.
Perhaps he should tie a vine tightly around his penis, he thought. That way any kind of erection would cause him enough agony to kill his excitement. The idea had merit. At least, it was worth a try. Actually, just the threat of that kind of pain might be enough to make him avoid contact with Abigail, Tomasso decided as he dove into the water and began to swim.
"So you dropped out of medical school to look after your mother."
Abigail glanced to Tomasso at that comment. It wasn't a question, more a murmured statement, but she nodded anyway.
"I imagine that was hard," he said solemnly.
"Which part?" she asked wryly. "Dropping out of school was pretty bad. But watching my mom fade away like that . . . ?" She shook her head wearily. "No one should suffer like that. And no child should have to witness it."
"I'm sorry," Tomasso murmured and caught her hand briefly in his to give it a squeeze.
Abigail glanced to him with surprise at the show of affection. She supposed she shouldn't be surprised. He'd held her hand as they'd walked the night before, and done a lot more than that in the sand afterward, but that had been yesterday. Today--
Tomasso released her hand as if her touch had scalded him, and Abigail had to bite back a sigh as she finished the thought--today, Tomasso had seemed to be going out of his way to avoid any contact with her at all. At least he had after she'd gone off to find her private spot. When she'd first woken up, he'd helped her up, pulled her pants up and even done them up for her, but that was the last time he'd touched her.
Abigail had returned from her brief excursion into the jungle to find him swimming and had decided it was a good idea. But the moment she'd stripped down to her bra and panties and started into the water, he'd got out and said he was going in search of a piece of wood he could use as a spear. This was the same man who had chastised her the day before about swimming alone. Suddenly, her swimming alone was apparently okay.
