by Lynsay Sands
Divine so wanted to say that, but she bit back the words and stared at him.
"Besides, there is no way what we experienced out there beside the RV tonight wasn't life mate sex," he said firmly. "I felt every shaft of pleasure that went through your body, every quiver of excitement my touch raised. And you felt mine. Didn't you."
It wasn't a question but a statement. And he was right, she had experienced his pleasure with him . . . or she thought she had. Either he really was her life mate, or he was one hell of a good faker. And the man was just standing there, so bloody beautiful with his bare chest, bare feet, and tight jeans. His hair was dry now, but lay ruffled around his head. She could remember how damned soft it had felt under her fingers, as soft as the rest of him had been hard.
She'd wanted to feel all that hardness against her softness, Divine recalled. She'd wanted his naked skin against hers. She'd wanted him filling her with the bulging erection she'd felt with her hand . . . and she'd never got the chance. Might never get the chance if she found the opportunity to slip away today, reclaim her motorcycle, and escape.
"Divine?"
She shifted her gaze to his face and noted that his eyes were sliding over her body more silver than black. Muttering, "Ah hell," she closed the small space between them and basically plastered herself against his chest, her hands reaching to draw his head down to hers. Divine didn't have to do much drawing. His head lowered eagerly to let his mouth claim hers and then they were on that lovely roller coaster called life mate sex again. Only this ride had a bunch of highs and exciting turns and only one low, the one that waited to drag them under at the end.
That low on her mind, Divine began to move slowly backward, drawing Marcus with her toward the door to the bedroom. He went willingly enough, but didn't stop kissing her and began touching her as well as they went.
His hands slid up her arms, partway down, then simply moved around to claim her breasts through the cotton of her blouse. Divine bit into his lip in reaction, then immediately reached up to tug at her blouse, pulling it down and out from under his fingers so that they were against her naked flesh.
The moment she did, Marcus stopped walking to bend and lash first one nipple and then the other with his tongue. The man had a very talented tongue, she decided faintly, clutching at his head with one hand and his shoulder with the other to keep her feet beneath her as pleasure washed through her.
Divine felt his hand drop to her behind and start to squeeze and then he suddenly dropped to kneel before her, his mouth never ceasing in the attention it was giving her breasts. But when he began to urge her skirt up her legs, she gasped and shook her head as she grabbed for the wandering hand. They were still a foot from the door to the bedroom.
"Oh, no, no, no," she managed to get out. "The bedroom."
"Okay." He rumbled the word around one excited nipple. Then he let that nipple slip from his mouth.
Divine was torn between disappointment that he was no longer suckling her and relief that they were going to move this to the bedroom, but before she could move, he suddenly lowered himself to sit on his feet before her.
"What--?" she began with confusion and then nearly bit her tongue off when he suddenly pushed up her skirt and pressed his mouth to the inside of her left thigh.
"Oh God no," she gasped and would have tried to push his mouth away, but couldn't seem to make her hands do her bidding. They did reach for his head, but instead of pushing, they caught in his hair and tugged encouragingly as he ran his tongue upward. His tongue was a bare inch from the top of her leg, when he suddenly let go of her skirt with one hand and instead clasped her leg to draw it over his shoulder. Before it had even settled there, his tongue had found the nub at the core of her excitement and proceeded to show her just how talented it was.
Divine struggled briefly to keep herself upright, but when his finger then found the center of her and slid in and out even as his lips plucked at her nub and tongue flicked it at the same time . . . Well, she cried out and threw her head back, managing to completely lose her balance. In the next moment she was falling. Fortunately, darkness claimed her before she hit her head on the bedroom door frame.
Sixteen
"Really, he's not as bad as you seem to be reading in your crystal ball. He can be sweet."
Divine blinked her eyes open at those strained words and stared at the door frame overhead, her mind a complete blank for a moment.
"Kiddo, he's an uneducated, unemployed, pothead thief who treats you like crap. You really need to cut him loose and find someone else."
That was Jackie's voice, she realized. Who the devil was she talking to? And where the devil am I? Divine lifted her head to glance around, then let it drop back down as she realized she was lying in the bedroom doorway of the borrowed trailer. At least her head was, the rest of her was sprawled on the floor of the kitchenette with Marcus lying half on top of her, his head in her lap . . . under her skirt. Dear God, they had--
"I told you, he just borrowed his dad's girlfriend's car. He didn't steal it. He borrowed it for the day and then took it back a little after midnight. He's not a thief."
Divine didn't recognize that voice but it sounded like a young female, a rather desperate young female. And she sounded close. Turning her head to try to find the source of the voice, Divine took note of the fact that the curtain had been drawn between the lounging area and the kitchenette where she and Marcus now lay. The voices seemed to be coming from the lounge beyond it.
That curtain had not been closed last night. But then Jackie hadn't been there last night either. Her gaze swiveled to the small clock hanging over the sink and Divine almost groaned aloud. It was almost three o'clock in the afternoon. They'd passed out on the floor and slept right through what had remained of morning and a good portion of the afternoon to boot. Jackie must have come searching for them when they hadn't shown up that morning and--
Divine sat up abruptly, horror sliding through her as she realized that the woman must have seen them like this. She peered down at the skirt-covered lump in her lap that was Marcus's head, noted that the collar of her top was sitting down under her breasts, and closed her eyes. Wow. Well, this was embarrassing.
"Taking without right or permission is the definition of stealing," Jackie said firmly from the other side of the curtain. "It doesn't matter that he brought the car back. Taking it in the first place was theft."
"God, you're being as hard on him about this as his dad and the girlfriend are." The younger woman sounded resentful.
"Of course they're being hard on him," Jackie responded at once. "Theft is a serious business."
"He brought it back," the girl stressed.
"Right," Jackie said sounding unimpressed. "And did he bring back the money he took from your purse to buy his pot?"
Divine's eyebrows rose. The girl had a real winner there. Shaking her head, she tugged her skirt up, eased Marcus's head off her lap to rest on the floor, and then got silently to her feet.
"You can see that in your crystal ball too?" the younger woman cried with dismay. "What else can you see? Is he screwing around on me? If he is, he's out of my apartment."
Divine rolled her eyes as she brushed the worst of the wrinkles out of her skirts. So his being an uneducated, unemployed pothead who treated her like crap and apparently not only stole from her, but sponged off her as well wasn't enough to convince the girl to leave. But if he was messing around he was done?
At least the girl had some limits on what she would put up with, Divine thought wryly as she turned and slid through the bedroom to the bathroom door. She'd encountered too many mortal women who hadn't seemed to have any limits at all on the bad behavior they would take from a partner. They didn't seem to recognize their own value and that they deserved so much more, which was such a shame. Mortals had such short lives, so little time to enjoy all that life and the world had to offer. Why would they waste even a moment of their precious time on someone who didn't appreciate and treat
them well?
Divine shook her head over that as she slipped into the bathroom and pulled the door closed, blocking out the voices from the other side of the curtain. She was in and out of the tiny room quickly, only taking the time to rinse her face and run a brush through her hair. She would have liked to stop to change her clothes then too, but when she slid out of the bathroom and stuck her head out of the bedroom to check, the sounds coming from the other side of the curtain suggested Jackie was wrapping up the session and preparing to see the girl out.
Straightening her shoulders, Divine forced her head up and moved to the curtain to tug the end of it a few inches away from the wall. She noted that they'd set up a small round table between the sofa and chairs in the lounge, covering it with an antique tablecloth, and then placing what looked like an honest-to-God crystal ball in the middle. It was probably a prop, but still . . . Divine had never bothered with such stage setting, merely taking the client's hand as if reading the future through some strange energy emanating from them. Which was really what she did. She read their thoughts and helped them clarify the situation they already knew about but were possibly ignoring, or lying to themselves about.
Shrugging, Divine glanced to the women in the room. A petite blonde in jeans and T-shirt was just rising from one of two folding chairs set on either side of the table as Jackie got up from the other.
Her eyebrows rose at the sight of the woman. Vincent's mate was wearing a long flowing skirt, a peasant blouse, a red scarf around her head, the most god-awful gaudy jewelry she'd ever seen, and ridiculously dramatic makeup. Probably Vincent's doing, Divine decided. Jackie looked like a theater version of a Gypsy rather that the real thing.
She'd barely had the thought when Jackie glanced her way as she ushered the girl to the door. She paused at once, a smile curling her lips.
"Good morning," she said, smiling widely. "You look well rested."
Divine grimaced at the words as she pulled the curtain further open. She normally didn't sleep more than a couple of hours a day, but she'd certainly got more than a couple of hours of sleep this morning. It had been just before 6 A.M. when she and Marcus had-- Well, anyway, that couldn't have taken more than a couple minutes so she must have slept a good nine hours straight. Strange for her.
"Who's she?"
Divine glanced to the blonde at that curious question, but it was Jackie who answered.
"Don't worry about it. Go on now. Have a good day," she said cheerfully, and then pushed the girl out the door, adding grimly, "And dump that loser you call a boyfriend."
Closing the door, Jackie turned to Divine and said wryly, "I don't know how you do it. I swear I've wanted to slap some sense into half the people who have come in here this morning."
"That's about par for the course," Divine said with amusement.
"Hmmm." Jackie wrinkled her nose at this news and then asked, "Is Marcus up?"
"He is now."
Divine gave a start at that announcement and glanced over her shoulder as Marcus pushed himself to his feet and walked toward her.
"Is that Jackie?" he asked as he approached.
Realizing she'd only opened the curtain enough to frame herself, she pushed it further open now so that he could see the other woman. "Yes. She opened shop while we slept. Thank you for that, by the way," Divine added, turning back to offer a grateful smile to the woman.
Jackie smiled in return and shrugged. "It's fun."
Divine snorted at the claim, knowing it was sometimes interesting, sometimes rewarding, and sometimes just plain frustrating, but not really ever fun.
"Well, I appreciate it," she said sincerely, stiffening a little with surprise when Marcus slipped an arm around her waist. Smile a little forced now, she eased out from under Marcus's arm and turned back into the kitchenette saying, "You go ahead and find that husband of yours and I'll quick-change and take over now."
"Don't be silly, I'll continue here for the afternoon," Jackie said at once, bringing her to a reluctant halt. When Divine turned back, she added, "You need to eat, feed, shower, and change. Just grab some clothes and head to our RV, you can shower and everything else there."
Divine shook her head at once. "Oh, I can't make you--"
"You aren't making me do anything," Jackie said firmly, moving into the kitchenette to catch her by the shoulders and urge her toward the bedroom door. "Besides, I want you to meet Tiny and Mirabeau."
"Are they here already?" Marcus asked, trailing after them as they entered the bedroom.
"Got in early this morning. Arrived with half the apples grown in California and enough caramel and chocolate to cover the state," Jackie announced dryly, and then squeezed Divine's shoulders and said, "You're going to love Tiny. He's been my best friend for ages. He's a sweetie. And his partner, Mirabeau, is lovely too."
Divine murmured noncommittally, hardly noticing when Jackie left her by the end of the bed and moved to the closet. Her mind was busy trying to find a way to get rid of Jackie and Marcus and reclaim her position as Madame Divine. The arrival of the other couple was only going to complicate matters and make escaping more difficult. She needed to think and found it difficult to do so with Marcus nearby.
"I hope you don't mind, but I slipped in and borrowed one of your outfits this morning when I realized you two weren't going to make opening. But there is plenty more here to choose from," Jackie announced, beginning to slide clothes along the rod in the small closet.
"Of course I don't mind." Divine smiled wryly as she took in the blue skirt and peasant blouse Jackie wore. How could she mind the woman wearing them when they weren't really hers anyway? Vincent had arranged for the clothes Jackie was now calling hers.
"I think the forest green skirt," Jackie decided, pulling out the skirt in question. "It will look great with your coloring."
Nodding, Divine walked over to take the skirt the woman was holding out. Then she reached past her and grabbed several scarves as well. She'd need them to add some color, Divine thought, and then glanced to the floor of the closet and the row of boots lined up there. She bent and picked up a pair of dark red-brown ones and then turned away with her booty, pausing briefly when she noted that Marcus was dragging clothes out of the closet on the opposite side of the bed.
"Vincent put Marcus's clothes in here," Jackie explained quickly. "There are only the two tiny closets in each of the RVs and we were using both of ours."
"Of course," Divine murmured and simply turned to head out of the room. But as she entered the kitchenette area, she frowned and said, "Maybe I should shower and change here. That way Marcus can use the shower in your RV and--"
"The sound of the shower would be distracting for the people wanting a reading," Jackie pointed out and shook her head. "No. It's better you use the other RV. You'll like it better anyway. It has a bigger shower," she added in tempting tones, and then smiled wryly and added, "Everything about it is bigger. It's the 'luxury' RV Vincent had made for our stakeouts and he insists everything should be bigger and better. The man is spoiled rotten."
Divine couldn't help smiling at the claim. Especially since Jackie made it with a combination of exasperation, amusement, love, and something that sounded very much like pride.
"All set," Marcus announced, coming out of the bedroom. He'd pulled on a T-shirt and boots and looked ready for the day. His gaze slid to Divine. "Don't worry about the shower. It's yours. I have to get to work before Chapman or Mac come looking for me."
"They won't. Vincent filled in for you today," Jackie announced.
That sent Marcus's eyebrows shooting upward. "Vincent? Work?"
"He's just running the Tilt-A-Whirl, it's not like he's slinging steel or something," Jackie said with amusement. "And actually, I think he's enjoying himself. He's surprisingly good at luring in riders with his patter. Must be the theater in him."
"Must be," Divine said with a smile.
"You two go on next door," Jackie said, ushering them into the lounge area. "I should g
et back to work. The natives are probably getting restless out there."
"No doubt," Divine murmured and then stepped outside when Marcus pushed the door open for her. She paused after one step though, her hand instinctively rising to block out the worst of the sun as the day slapped her. It was the hottest part of the afternoon. The sun was high in the sky and the heat was a wave that plastered itself to her skin like thin, clinging plastic. It stole Divine's breath, even as the glare of the sun blinded her.
She sucked in a lungful of stifling air and blinked several times to get her eyes to adjust and then let her breath out on a sigh as the blurry glare subsided into the shapes and color that made up the midway. People of all shapes and sizes milled everywhere, rides turned and whirled in motion, various songs and sounds rose from the different rides clashing in the air with the sound of laughter, the patter of ride jockeys and game agents, and the excited screams of the people on the rides. And all of it accompanied by the smells of popcorn and food grilling under the burning Death Valley sun. Carnival life.
"Okay?" Marcus asked, resting a hand on her shoulder.
Forcing a smile, Divine nodded and descended the stairs to weave her way through the line outside her door to get to the RV next to this one. Like hers the door on Jackie and Vincent's RV was on the side, so she had to walk around the back of their RV to get to it. Divine was shifting the bundle of clothes she carried so that she could open the door when Marcus reached past her to do it for her.
Murmuring a thank-you, Divine slid inside and was brought up short again.
This RV was set up much the same as the one she was using, except that both the kitchenette and lounge were a bit bigger. They were also both presently filled with apples; baskets of the sweet red fruit filled every space on the floor as well as the couch and the chairs in both the lounge and kitchenette. Meantime the countertops and kitchen table were covered with trays of apples, each with a Popsicle stick poking out of it. They were also all coated with some variation of chocolate or caramel or both, and then had been rolled in various toppings ranging from crushed peanuts to tiny marshmallows. The stove was the only place free of apples. Instead it held four large, simmering pots that a huge man was stirring by turn as he hummed.
