“I swear it, Heaven. I swear it on my life. As long as this fire burns in my soul, it will burn for you.”
He didn’t give her a chance to respond, not that she would have anyway. His body slid across the bed, closer to hers. The fire within it enveloped her from head to toe. She basked in the warmth, enjoying the way it soothed the ache in her chest, the ache that formed the minute he risked his life for her.
She was so caught in the moment that she didn’t flinch when his mouth swept over hers. His breath moistened her lips with want and need, then faded. She tried to protest but no words would form. His lips covered hers again, drawing them between his full ones. They melded together, sliding back and forth with each sway of his head. Then the real teasing began. Teasing that started with slight flicks of his tongue. Teasing that continued when he slipped his tongue between her lips and sought hers, finding it, caressing it, rolling it…
His groan vibrated her lips before he pulled away, leaving her mouth begging for more. She had just enough time to open her eyes and lock them with his when she noticed his waver with questions. But somewhere in the middle of their silent stare down, he decided those questions weren’t important. Kissing her was.
Another surge of fire shot around her. His hand fisted in her hair, pulling her hard against his mouth. It ravaged hers, growing hungrier with each pass, trying to satisfy an ache she felt inside him, an ache that matched the one inside her. He kissed her with such fervor that her lips began to swell. She didn’t care, didn’t want him to stop, didn’t want to listen to the voice inside her head, the voice that prodded her mind until she couldn’t ignore it.
“Layne,” she mumbled into his lips, but he continued sliding them across hers. He curled his fingers around her hip, squeezing, releasing, pulling it toward his.
“Yes?” he finally answered.
A few more caresses had her hesitating on speaking. She closed her eyes, desperate to give in to the need coalescing within her. It would be easy to lose herself in the moment. Something inside her hungered for more, no matter how much she resisted.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she mumbled again. As hard as she willed her eyes to open, they wouldn’t, nor could she pull her mouth from his.
“Yes, we should.”
Before she could object to his words, he flipped onto his back, bringing her with him. She straddled his hips, feeling a burst of heat within her core. She knew she should move, should untangle her body from his and put a safe amount of space between them. Yet she didn’t.
Her nipples tautened as his energy blazed through her, scorching her soul-deep. The effect didn’t go unnoticed by Layne. He worked his hands from her hips, up her sides, until he cupped her breasts with his hands. He thumbed over them through the cotton shirt. A smile hinted at the corner of his mouth. The light above caught the gleam in his eyes when she pushed her hand to his waist, keeping him at a distance.
His abs hardened beneath her palm as he used them to pull himself into a sitting position. An inferno of want and need burned in his eyes. He gripped the sides of her face, tilting her head back, just slightly. Then he licked and suckled his way up her neck, biting a small section below her ear. She writhed against him, giving in to the desire he induced. It overwhelmed her, forcing her hips to rock above him, her body determined to satisfy the itch she wanted him to scratch.
He leaned his head in for another kiss. His hands roamed her body, pulling her close, squeezing her tight, fisting her hair. “I feel you, Heaven,” he mumbled against her lips. “You want me. You need me. So take me.” He lifted her chin, exposing her neck to his lips. His teeth scraped her skin, biting into it harder.
She gasped. Her body craved more of his touch. It stirred her nerve endings, making them tingle. “I can’t,” she said, stressing each word in a raspy voice. “We can’t.”
Her words fell on silent ears. His mouth worked over her neck, along the length of her jaw. Each nip he gave caused her skin to prickle so rapidly, her goose bumps had goose bumps.
“Please, Heaven,” he continued, licking and biting his way over her skin.
He pulled at her shirt, tugging the scoop neckline down her shoulder, exposing it and her bra. His mouth worked lower, biting the skin there as well. The heat of his other hand gripped her bottom, squeezing it as he drew her closer.
“I want to know you, Heaven,” his breath beat against her shoulder. “I want to know all of you, the feel of your breasts,” he pressed his chest to hers, “the warmth of your thighs,” his hands slid down them and back, “the way you move your hips when I’m inside you.”
Scorching fingers curled around her hips, rocking them with his. She tried to catch her breath, tried telling herself that this was not going to happen. Then his hand slipped between her thighs, sinking lower until he stroked her utmost center—the part of her that wanted him the most.
His thumb pressed and swirled as he brushed his lips to hers and whispered, “By the time I’m finished, there won’t be a part of you I haven’t touched or tasted.”
He was determined to have her, to own her body, to deliver her pleasure that she’d never imagined. That pleasure was forbidden. Yet the longer she contemplated the thought, the more the fire swirled within her—spinning, twisting, coalescing with every stroke of his thumb.
The pressure built. She couldn’t help but let it. He’d pinned her with his gaze, pressing his thumb harder. She rolled her hips. His teeth grazed her neck. Then the fire began to consume her.
She tossed her head back, fluttered her eyes until they shut. Groans filled the air. Her groans. They were loud, passionate, guttural. Her body quaked from the explosion induced by his thumb, her lips cried approvals, and as she surrendered to the bliss that he gave her, he whispered one last time.
“Please make this a reality.”
* * *
Heaven jerked into a sitting position, her heart racing so fast her chest heaved in and out. The rapidness of her breath brought in too much oxygen. Her head grew lighter, almost hazy. She gazed out the window, noting the dark, moonless sky. The nearby lamp reflected in the glass. It cast a soft glow, highlighting the body beside her.
Slowly turning to her right, she trailed over the blanket that stopped midway up a bare chest, a well-defined bare chest. A long, purplish line extended across it, just above the nipple. The arrow that once impaled it flickered through her mind.
She continued further up, gazing over strands of blond hair that pressed to the neck they surrounded. Even further up, she noticed a set of lips, ones that tasted a lot like butterscotch candy. It had her licking her lips, wincing when she felt the swell of them. They, too, tasted like butterscotch.
How was it possible? Any of it? What happened between them before…it had to be a dream. There was no other logical explanation. Layne was still unconscious, or so she thought. The flow of his energy blazed around her, a sensation she wondered if she’d ever feel again. It didn’t have its normal strength, but the fact that it was present meant one of two things. Either Layne was getting better, or he had regained consciousness. If it were the latter, it meant that everything she thought she imagined, she didn’t.
Curling her hand around Layne’s shoulder, she jostled it, careful not to shake him too hard. She waited to see if he’d respond, but he didn’t. Unsatisfied with the results, she shook him again, a little harder this time. “Layne. Can you hear me?”
More silence passed with nothing gained but an expansion of disappointment in her heart. He was never going to wake up. She was going to lose him, the dream the only thing left to remember. And what a memory it would be.
The image of her reaching orgasm under his thumb had her darting from the bed. She moved for the window, ready to yank it open and stick her head outside. The cool air would do her some good.
Instead, she leaned her forehead against it, thankful the images were only a part of a dream. How could she think it really happened? She didn’t remember being pregnant as she str
addled Layne’s body. His had pressed perfectly to hers, which would be impossible at this point in time.
Why would she dream about this? Where would the idea even come from…?
Who was she kidding? She’d be lying if she said similar thoughts hadn’t crossed her mind. It was hard not to when she sensed his desire for her. Somewhere in the last few weeks, she developed a desire for him as well.
It was wrong on so many levels. She loved Dylan more than anything. She loved the baby, his baby, which she was about to bring into the world. Yet the pull she felt for Layne wouldn’t go away. She ignored it as best she could, would continue to ignore it. They had enough to deal with. This couldn’t be added to the mix.
Her mind went back to Delia’s words, how she and Layne needed to be closer. This couldn’t be the type of closeness she meant. Surely not. Her son was Heaven’s soulmate, her husband. Yet Delia had a Keeper. It wasn’t hard to see their relationship had evolved into something more. Of course, she no longer had her soulmate.
The dream was a result of a vivid imagination, Heaven’s imagination. Now that she had time to process it, it didn’t surprise her. After all the sleep she’d lost, it was a wonder she hadn’t begun hallucinating.
A soft creak sounded from the bedroom door. She turned away from the window, meeting a set of eyes that scorched her. Dylan closed the door behind him, sweeping through the room, heading in her direction. Desperation pulsed in his soul, desperation to be close to her, to hold her in his arms and forget the rest of the world.
When she was less than a foot away, he opened his arms, allowing her step inside them. She inhaled his spicy scent, burying her nose against his neck until nothing but his scent remained.
“I love you,” he whispered beside her ear, squeezing his arms around her.
“I love you, too. Please, Dylan. Stay with me for a while. I need to be with you.”
“I know,” he confessed. His body leaned into hers, pressing it to the wall behind her. “I sensed your need. It’s why I’m here. Your soul summoned mine.”
She released the breath she’d been holding, closing her eyes when he brought his mouth down to hers. Cinnamon teased her tongue as his slipped inside, swirling it softly, then hungrily. One hand raked inside her hair, pinning her lips to his. The other caressed down her side, to her hip where he pulled her closer.
Her worries began to disappear. She kissed him harder, needing to feel his passion for her, needing to erase the image of Layne’s passion from her thoughts. Dylan was the one she wanted evoking those emotions. He was the one who held her heart, the one whose soul was bound to hers, forever. He was the one she wanted to bring her to orgasmic bliss.
“Heaven,” he whispered as he broke his mouth from hers. “Go to the cottage with me. Just for a little while. I want to be with you,” his lips made another sweep, “I want to be inside you,” and then another sweep, “I want to make love to my wife.”
She nodded before he covered her mouth with his again. The cold wall chilled her back when he leaned into her. Then he broke away, lacing his fingers with hers.
They moved toward the door, their emotions running so high she thought her heart would burst from her chest before they made it to the cottage. And just as he pulled the door open, coughing came from behind her.
She stopped mid step, turning back to face the bed. A mixture of relief and anxiousness coiled in her stomach, ripping away every thought of Dylan, every thought of the love he wanted to make to her.
All sights and sounds faded as she stared at Layne, who was staring back, just as hard.
“Hey,” he said, his voice coarse but soft. His eyes trailed over the bed and then his chest, before locking with hers once more. “What the hell happened?”
CHAPTER 24
An insistent tug in Heaven’s back had her leaning against the wall, opposite her old bedroom. She stared inside to the spot where Layne stood. His mother hovered close by, along with her mother. Both were giving him their version of a checkup. Layla eyed the scar on his chest, working her fingers around the edges. Heaven sensed her mother focusing on his energy, most likely reading his aura.
Layne’s face pinched as his mother continued to prod him. The hum of his energy pulsed as strong as it ever had. If anything, it had gained strength. Heaven could feel his heat on her face from her spot in the hallway, but it didn’t have the unbridled passion it normally contained. Reservation kept it confined to gentle warmth that left her curious more than anything.
Feeling the weight of watchful eyes, she twisted her head toward her right, curious to see if Hope was staring. Sure enough, blue eyes glowered back at her, suspicion wavering within them. Hope tilted her head to the side, pursing her lips before she said, “Something’s up with you.”
Heaven wrapped her arms around herself, avoiding her sister’s eyes by staring at the floor. “What are you talking about?”
“I don’t know,” Hope answered, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Heaven gazed back in time to see her sister scan her from head to toe, as if she expected to see something physically different. Or maybe she was sensing her aura. “You haven’t been the same since Layne regained consciousness. Would you mind telling me what’s going on?”
Buzzing filled Heaven’s ears as her cheeks heated. She faced the room once more, her eyes locked with Layne’s as he pulled his shirt over his arms. She focused on his energy, drawing it to her as she willed him to do the same.
He complied.
A second later, the fire within him built with such speed it hurled toward her like the conflagration he’d flung at their attackers. Unlike those unfortunate souls, her body remained unburned. She couldn’t say the same for her soul. Layne had branded it, forever leaving his mark.
As the tension between them became too much, he broke their gaze at last. His fingers pinched together, working the buttons through their respective holes. It wasn’t the first time he couldn’t hold her stare for longer than a minute. Since the moment he’d awakened, she’d sensed his discomfort. Three days later, something still weighed on his mind.
Guilt. Questions. Uncertainty…
When she heard her sister clear her throat, she faced her, prepared for her all-knowing smirk. “There’s nothing going on, Hope,” she snorted, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. “I’m worried about him, that’s all. He’s my Keeper. I need him to be okay. You’ll understand once you find your Keeper.”
“Sweetheart, there isn’t a man in the world who could affect me the way Layne affects you.”
Heaven’s mouth fell just slightly. “Beg your pardon?”
“I sense your aura, Sis. It’s pink, a bold, rich pink. Or maybe it’s more of a fuchsia. I’m not up-to-date on my color chart, but I will say this much. It’s as breathtaking as the amount of passion it contains. Are you…? Do you have feelings for Layne?”
A heavy sensation grew in Heaven’s stomach, one that wasn’t because of the baby. An icy flash replaced it soon after, chilling her to the core. She couldn’t answer Hope’s question. Not because she didn’t want to, but because she didn’t know how. The mess of emotions in her heart confused her soul every bit as much as it did her mind.
“We’re all done,” Layla’s voice cut in, gaining both Heaven and Hope’s attention. She stood in the doorway just behind their mother, looking between them with a quizzical gaze. She finally focused her pale green eyes on Heaven. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I wanted to let you know that Layne is recovering better than we expected. He isn’t completely healed, but I think a few more days will take care of that. His aura is good, and his chakras are cleansed. Overall, I’d say he’s as good as new.”
Heaven nodded her head, processing each word with care. It was good news—too good of news—way more than she expected. She had to question the validity of Layla’s medical opinion, even if she did so to herself.
“I can’t thank you enough for saving him, Layla.”
“Please,” Layla chuckle
d, waving Heaven’s comment away. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear as disappointment shimmered in her eyes. “I wish I could take credit for his recovery, but I can’t.”
“What do you mean?”
The smile she wore fell away. Her lips parted just enough to blow a wisp of hair from her face. She stepped further down the hall, putting enough distance between herself and the door. Her hands worked together; her eyes avoided the curious stares of those around her. When she finally turned around, she offered a tight-lipped smile and then dropped her eyes back to her hands.
“You were there when I was healing him, Heaven. He wasn’t responding to me.” She turned her hands over, palm side up. Discontent swirled in her soul as she looked at them, and then Heaven. “The gash in his chest didn’t start healing until later that evening when you fell asleep beside him. I didn’t heal my son. You did.”
What she said couldn’t be true. Heaven couldn’t allow herself to believe it. “I don’t see how that’s possible, Layla. I don’t have healing abilities.”
“No, but I understand that you share an affinity with my son. You can reach him on a level that no one else can. Your life is all that matters to him now. You’re the only reason he needs to get better.”
The way they approached the subject of her unwavering connection with her Keeper flustered her. They were blunt, even callous at times, about the whole situation. Had the alternate reality they lived in warped their minds, or was she making more out of something she shouldn’t?
“Everything about this feels awkward and unusual, this conversation included. I can’t believe the way you all treat my connection with Layne like it’s no big deal. You don’t understand.”
She sensed that Hope agreed, but her sister didn’t get a chance to voice her opinion. Layla walked closer, reaching for Heaven’s hands. “Believe it or not, we do understand, a lot more than you realize. I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but we all have Keepers. If Dane and I end up staying longer, you’ll get to meet my Keeper. You’ll see the close bond that we share.”
What the Heart Takes Page 30
