Lifeline
Lifeline Katherine Kingston Warning This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language. This material is meant for mature audiences!
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Also By Katherine Kingston Ruling Passion Daring Passion Binding Passion Healing Passion SilverQuest BronzeQuest Gargoyle’s Christmas Checkmate, Pleasure Raiders anthology The Dominant Boys of Summer, Sexy Summer Fun anthology Nick’s Lady Charming the Masters, Aquamarine Allure anthology Kyle’s Bargain Phantom Affair Walpurgis Night The Princess Brat, Crown Jewels anthology The Last Candle, Holiday Heat anthology
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Lifeline
Lifeline A Whispers Publishing Publication December 2009 Copyright ©2009 Katherine Kingston Cover illustration copyright © 2009 Rene Walden of BG Designs ISBN Not Assigned All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system-except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine, newspaper, or on the Webwithout permission in writing from the publisher. All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention. Published by: Whispers Publishing, P.O. Box 1165, Ladson, SC 29456-1165.
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Dedication "To all the brave men and women of the armed forces who sacrifice so much to protect others."
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Chapter One “The general’s waiting for you, Miss Scranton,” the secretary said. “Go on through.” Sheila drew a deep breath, struggling to calm her pulse as she nodded to the secretary. “Thank you.” The words barely made it past the constriction in her throat. It’s probably just another assignment, she told herself. Yeah, right. Since when did “just another assignment” start with a request to come to the office of General McKinley himself? You didn’t get called into a general’s office to be fired, did you? She wasn’t aware of any complaints about her work, so what could it be? Surely not another assignment like Madrid. They wouldn’t do that to her. Would they? Only one way to find out. She pushed the heavy door open and went in. The general stood up behind his desk. “Thank you for coming so promptly, Miss Scranton. Please have a seat.” He nodded to the chair opposite his. The small grin around his mouth and eyes held no smugness. Rather, it shared with her recognition of the irony of his words. When you were a government employee, a request from a general was simply a more polite sort of order. “Yes, sir,” she said, and sank into the nearest 5
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chair. “Miss Scranton, I―” He stopped and looked down at his desk. The grin had faded completely, leaving his expression tense and unhappy. He swiped a hand over the few strands of gray hair clinging to his skull and drew a deep breath. “I don’t know how to say this any way other than flat out. Your country needs to ask a very big favor of you.” “Sir?” Her stomach clenched. Not again. Please, not again. “Before I start, I have to ask a couple of very personal questions that you’re probably not going to want to answer. I need those answers, however. They’re very relevant.” Sheila twined her fingers together in her lap. “As you will, sir.” “At one time, you had a very close, personal relationship with Major Michael Caldwell. You were lovers, were you not?” She flinched. She didn’t want to think about Mike. It was over, but that piece of her heart still burned. “Yes, sir.” “Why did you break up?” That spot was even sorer. She hesitated. “This isn’t idle curiosity,” the general said. “A lot of reasons, but it mostly came down to my talent. He wasn’t comfortable with it.” “He was afraid of you invading his mind?” “Not everyone believes I won’t do it just because I can. He was right, too, even if he didn’t know it.” She heard the bitterness in the words and 6
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clamped down on it. “And in his case… I think he was afraid I couldn’t handle what I’d learn. That might’ve been true, too. There were corners of his soul he found very uncomfortable.” The general was silent a moment before he inclined his head. “I dare say that’s true of anyone who’s been in the field as long as he has. But it comes down to motive, doesn’t it?” He shook his head. “How do you feel about him now?” “Sir? What is this about?” “Just that one question, please.” Sheila drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I don’t hate him, if that’s what you’re worried about.” She stared at her hands, where her fingers had clenched around each other. “Love doesn’t die, but it fades when there’s nothing to feed it. I love him, but it’s dimmed.” “Is there still some kind of link between you? If you tried to read his mind now, could you? I know you usually need a physical link, but since you were once lovers, I thought it might still be possible.” “It’s been two years since I last saw him. I don’t know where he is.” The general sighed. “We don’t either. That’s the problem.” “Oh.” She didn’t want to dwell too long on the possibilities, given what Mike did. “You want me to try to contact him?” “If you can. And let us know where he is, how we can reach him.” “Where was he operating?” she asked. The general’s face closed up and his eyes went 7
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hard. “Sir,” Sheila said, “I understand he was probably in covert and it’s need-to-know only. But if I’m going to have a chance to contact him, I do need some idea of where he is. It would also help to have something of his, something he’s recently worn or touched. Worn would be better.” The silence went on a few moments longer before the general sighed and said, “He was in Zebrekestan. He was supposed to rendezvous with some local forces there. We lost contact with him two days ago.” “He may be…” She couldn’t bring herself to say it. “Maybe, but we don’t think so. No body, and they generally try to leave them for us. More likely captured by the enemy.” He paused and stared at her for a moment. “If we could make contact with him through you, we might be able to locate him and get there in time to save him.” “As well as get valuable information about the enemy. Even if you don’t save him.” “We’ll do everything in our power to get him back alive. I promise you.” “I can’t promise you anything, sir. It’s been more than two years since I last saw him, and he’s on the other side of the world.” “You’re his best chance. All I ask is that you try.” Sheila wondered if this was a good idea. What would happen if she did make contact? Mike might refuse it and keep himself closed off from her. 8
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What if he were dead? What would that do to her? “Sir…” “You have doubts about using your talent that way after the Madrid conference?” he asked. “Of course.” “But Mike’s not a psychopath or a sadistic killer like that vice premiere you linked with there.” “I know, but…” “You’re still wary of trying to link to someone again. Understandable. It took you weeks to get over the shock of Madrid. For a while I wasn’t sure you would. And we promised we wouldn’t ask you to do that again. But this is different. Mike was someone close to you.” The general leaned back in his chair. “If you don’t want to try, I’ll understand, but I think you’re our only chance of finding him.” Sheila’s hands clenched in her lap. There were only a few people she’d be willing do this for. Mike was one of them. “I’ll try,” she said. “How close can you get me to the area?” The general exhaled a long sigh. “I was hoping you could do it from here. It’s not a safe area. Are you sure?” “Sure? Yes. Happy about it? No. But the closer I can get, the better the odds of success. From the other side of the world, the chances are practically zero.” “All right. Thank you for being willing to try. We’ll get you to the nearest base and operate from there. Even so, it’s a war zone. You know what that means, don’t you?” 9
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“Yes, sir. I’ve worked for the army for seven years, even if it was just as an accountant.” “With the occasional special assignment.” She sighed. “Yes, sir. Anyway, I know what it means. But I have to be as close as possible to even have a chance.” The general leaned back and some of the tension left his body. “What else do you need?” “Something he’s worn recently, if at all possible. Better if it hasn’t been washed. At the very least something he’s touched. It’s going to be hard enough to re-establish the connection.” “Plus, I need a quiet place where I can concentrate, but someone needs to stay with me all the time to make sure I come out of it to eat and drink. I’m going to have to go into a sort of trance to do this from so far away. And even then… I’ve never tried to do anything like this.” “When I’ve gone into other minds before, it’s always been with someone I was touching or very close to. I don’t know if I can do it. I’m not even sure it’s possible.” “We understand it’s a long shot. All we ask is your best effort. When can you get going?” “I can be packed and ready to leave in a few hours. When you summoned me, I expected to be handed an assignment, so I have things in order. I just didn’t expect this kind of mission.” “We’ll be ready for you at eighteen hundred.” General McKinley stood and inclined his head toward her. “If you think of anything you need, give me a call.” He handed her a card with his work 10
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and cell phone numbers listed. “Good luck.” Sheila recognized the dismissal, but she had to struggle to get her legs under her and moving. The next twenty-four hours passed in a blur as she hurried to finish packing and get last minute details taken care of. The general sent a car to take her to the airfield, where she climbed aboard a military transport. The flight went on for an agonizingly long time. She managed to doze a few times but couldn’t achieve the time-swallowing sleep she hoped for. Even so, nightmares invaded the naps. In one of them she was back in Madrid, ostensibly as an aide to the undersecretary heading the negotiations at the conference. Her real assignment, though, was to check on the thoughts of the warmongers on the other side of the table. She’d already gathered some interesting information by the time she was introduced to a colonel who was also a vice premiere of the opposition. She shook his hand and gently invaded his mind. And there found the vile imaginings of a sadistic murderer. The man’s thoughts assaulted her. In his imagination she saw herself tied to some kind of a wood frame and stripped naked. He held a short, gleaming knife like a scalpel, and used it to make one shallow cut after another on her. Between slashes, he squeezed and twisted her breasts. Blood ran down her body in rivulets. 11
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The vision sent her stumbling backward, almost collapsing in shock. Fortunately an attaché was right behind and caught her before she fell. She stammered an excuse about feeling faint and lack of sleep the previous night as the attaché helped her out of the room. Behind her, laughter erupted, so they must have covered up her gaffe with a joke. Under other circumstances she might have resented it. Then, it relieved her to know she hadn’t completely ruined the meeting. The plane bounced and jerked her out of the nightmare. They stopped once to refuel before they finally landed at a military base far from anywhere she’d ever been before. She transferred to a helicopter for the last leg of the trip to the outpost. The chopper set down in a clearing in the center of rocky, mountainous terrain with few signs of life other than the cluster of tents that formed the base. A small group of soldiers met her, led by an officer who introduced himself as Colonel Huntley. They escorted her to their field headquarters and briefed her on what they knew about Major Caldwell. It wasn’t much. He’d disappeared on his way to meet with a local militia unit to coordinate an attack. They’d lost radio contact with him three days previously. A search party had found some of his gear in a heap, including his canteen and a headscarf that bore a 12
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few drops of blood. Since they found no body and no evidence of a fight, they presumed he’d been captured by the enemy. None of it reassured her, but she agreed to get started right away. They brought her to a small room curtained off from the rest of a larger tent. It held only a cot for a bed, a battered looking chest that served as both storage and bedside table, and a reclining lounge chair with worn upholstery. A group of three soldiers would rotate staying with her. After being introduced to the two men and one woman, she filled them in on what to watch for, then settled into the lounge chair, getting comfortable. They handed her several items belonging to Major Caldwell. She ran her fingers over them but got no reaction until she touched the bloodstained head cloth. A faint buzz zapped her when she touched it. Sheila placed it between her two palms and leaned back, closing her eyes. She let her mind drift into that strange space where she could sometimes direct it to make contact with a specific individual. White, cloudy emptiness surrounded her and stretched off to an unfathomable distance. Sparks of consciousness lit the blankness here and there, with brighter clusters of towns and villages in a few places. Nowhere near as many of those as she was used to seeing in southern California. Several groupings were small enough to represent just a few people―Mike and his captors, 13
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perhaps? Please let one of those sparks belong to Mike. How to find him, though? She’d never attempted to reach someone over so much distance. She pictured Mike Caldwell as she’d last seen him. Six feet two inches of lean muscle with a face that attracted attention. Handsome in a hard, rugged way. Tough planes and sharp angles added up to something more attractive to her than bland, ordinary good looks. Character, intelligence, and determination shaped his features. He kept his dark hair cut short, and his light gray-blue eyes could go cold as ice chips or warm to the color of a summer sky. Remembering the grace and precision of his tall body when he moved, his gentleness when dealing with those weaker than him, and his strength of character might not help her find him here, but they reminded her why she had to try. For a long time, she searched the misty white mind-space for the distinctive imprint of his personality. Other minds floated in and out of her awareness, marginal, background personalities, but not as many as she would have found in a more densely populated area. None matched the vibrations from his scarf. Under normal circumstances, she would have stopped then. Finding someone more distant became increasingly difficult. Pressing need drove her to keep searching even when her own optimism flagged. It took a long time before she finally sensed his signature. 14
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Elation surged through her. He was alive and she’d found him. She rushed toward him and nudged at his awareness, trying to make contact. She got no response. A harder push brought nothing either. On the third try she touched his mind. He was barely conscious and trying hard not to be. When she deepened the connection, she got confusion, fear, and pain. “Mike?” She sent it delicately, trying to let him know she was there and opening a channel for him to respond. A moment of panic convulsed his thoughts before he began to realize what was happening. Sheila? Is that you―? No! A wave of energy surged from him. It pushed at her, building a mental barrier between them, repudiating the link. But he had so little strength it wasn’t any sort of hindrance. A five-year-old with any ability could have moved through it. She ignored the effort and bypassed the shields he threw up. Sheila got beyond the barriers and then waited, letting him initiate any further contact. A rush of feeling exploded from him, so strong it accomplished what he couldn’t manage to do deliberately. At first she’d thought it anger, and that was there, but beneath the anger was pain. Horrible, overwhelming pain. She couldn’t feel it directly, but she got his reaction to it so strongly it made her draw back, confused and scared, while she tried to sort it out. 15
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Knife thrusts of agony cut through a background burn that lay like a red haze over his consciousness. Bruises thumped a percussive ache behind the underlying melody of fire and made a counterpoint to the slicing anguish of each new injury. Rational thought struggled to maintain any control in the face of that symphony of torture. That was his reality. She jerked herself awake. Tears traced hot streaks down her cheeks. “Miss Scranton?” The man keeping her company watched her with alarm. “Is something wrong?” “I need to talk to Colonel Huntley,” she said. The man pulled out a radio, pressed a button and politely requested the colonel join them. The officer might have been waiting for the summons. He entered just moments later. His expression tightened when he saw the tears. “You learned something?” he asked, his voice hoarse. “I made contact,” she said. He drew a sharp breath. “Then he’s not…” “He’s alive,” she said. “They’re torturing him.” “Shit,” the colonel said, but quietly, almost under his breath. “Still, he’s alive. Can you reach him to find out where he is?” “I’m not sure. He doesn’t want me in there with him when he’s hurting so much. Maybe he doesn’t want me in there period. He didn’t give me any chance to explain.” Huntley studied her for a moment. “Can you force your way in? Make him listen to you? The quicker we have a line on where he is, the sooner 16
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we can get him out.” “I don’t like doing it, but I’ll try.” Sheila had to brace herself for the next attempt. She had no trouble finding him again, but forcing herself into someone else’s mind went against everything she’d learned of decency and good sense. She had done it for her country, but not happily, and after Madrid she hesitated to try it again at all. Except this was a special case, something she hoped Mike himself would acknowledge when he was able to think more rationally about the situation. Still, she’d be privy to an unseemly personal and private experience as he dealt with the pain. He had every right to keep his privacy. It made another reason she had to steel herself to push past the defenses he automatically threw up when she tried to touch him again. Nonetheless she nudged her way in. He put up weak resistance, trying to shove her mind away from his, but it was more protest than real defense. Sheila? Why are you…? Even thinking that much at her seemed to sap his strength. Don’t, please. Not now. Go away. “Now,” she insisted. “Mike, listen. I’m here to help. They’ll come for you. You have to help us find you.” A surge of pain shuddered through him, followed by a shriek of rage. Shame followed. Shame that she could feel his weakness, could hear 17
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the child inside him that moaned each time they hurt him. He tried to bottle the pain up in a corner of his mind and thrust it away from him, but the ferocious ache tore past all the boundaries he tried to raise. She waited until the worse of it had subsided before she said, “I know it’s hard, but you need to help us. Tell us where you are.” Can’t think. “I know. Not right now. Let me stay with you for now. Push it to me, if it helps.” Another blaze of fire tore through him. Scarlet haze―blood red, fire red, sunset red―rippled through his thoughts, blotting out awareness of everything else, even her presence in his mind. Somewhere, wherever he was, another person talked. Asked questions, persistent, insistent questions. Probed, prodded, yelled, demanded. He was tired, so tired, and it hurt. It had been going on for a long time now. Hours, days. He’d lost track of time. He’d floated in and out of awareness. Only pure stubbornness and training kept him from giving them the answers they wanted. He couldn’t remember why he shouldn’t answer anymore. “I’m not going away,” she assured him. “I’m staying here with you, whatever you do.” She wanted to help him. If only she could transfer some of the agony to herself. But she didn’t know how. She tried sending soothing, calming thoughts. The tranquility of a quiet day in the country, sitting by a river fishing. Lying on a 18
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blanket in the park listening to the birds sing. The next wave of pain hit and her efforts unraveled in a knot of futility. It took a while for the pain to fade. If you…insist…on staying… Distraction, he begged. Tell me something. Anything. What have…you been doing? “Nothing very interesting…although I did go on a tour of Southern Europe last summer. It was kind of a hoot. I was with a bunch of senior citizens. They were really nice but it made for some interesting problems. This one old couple kept forgetting things and leaving things everywhere. The man left his hat in a bathroom in Florence. The old lady left her cane in a café south of Milan. One of them even left a set of dentures in a restaurant in Venice. I’m still trying to figure out how that happened. We had to turn around and go back for them and you should have seen the look on the restaurant owner’s face.” He listened as she related rambling stories of the trip and her bizarrely assorted traveling companions. The amusement did help blot out some of the pain. Until they did something else to him, and the red haze spread through his mind again. Mercifully, this time he lost consciousness. She stayed close by, waiting for him to wake. For his sake, she hoped it would be a while, though she desperately wanted to get information to help them find him. Sheila must have dozed herself, but roused when she felt his awareness come online again. She 19
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gave him a few minutes to collect himself, but he made the first move this time. Sheila? “I’m here.” No one here right now. Dark. The pain buzzed in the background now, not as sharp as earlier. He refused to acknowledge or accept it. “People are looking for you,” Sheila said. “Can you help? Give us some directions?” Think so. Give me a moment. She remained silent while he thought. They carried me up a dry gulch north of where they captured me. He continued describing how his captors had loaded him into the back of a truck and driven him to their current location. They hadn’t blindfolded him or stopped him from looking around, so he had a good idea of the way they’d gone and the distances involved. He gave her a detailed recounting of the journey. “Give me a moment, and I’ll be back,” she told him, after he’d passed on all he knew. She woke and asked for the colonel again. It took him longer this time. His clothes appeared to have been donned in haste and he hadn’t shaved in a while. Her first glance at the clock showed it was two-fifteen, and the lack of light leeching into the tent indicated it was night and not afternoon. It stunned her to realize she’d lost track of time so completely. “I apologize for dragging you out of bed, Colonel,” she said. “But I have information from 20
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Major Caldwell.” The sleepy curiosity in his eyes changed to blazing interest. “Tell me.” She related what Mike had told her about his journey. The colonel summoned others, and ten minutes later she accompanied a group that tromped into Huntley’s office to compare the relayed information to their maps and satellite images of the region. With Mike’s directions and their knowledge of the area, they managed to narrow the target down to a square half-mile or so. “Did he say how many are there?” Huntley asked. “No. I can ask him.” “Please.” She dropped back into the head space long enough to find out from Mike that he’d seen only a few people around, but had heard others. He thought maybe a dozen. Sheila relayed that to Huntley. “How long will it take to get to him?” she asked. Huntley sighed as he studied the map. “Best case scenario? Twenty-four to forty-eight hours. Worst case, as much as a week.” “He doesn’t have a week. He might not even have forty-eight hours. He’s… They’re being rough on him.” “I understand. We’ll do everything we can, but…” The look he gave her was both hard and sympathetic. “Will you stay with him? Try to keep him going. Give him hope, anyway. Let him know 21
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we’re coming for him. Keep him hanging on.” “I’ll do my best.” “Tell him death is not an option. He’s under orders to hang on until we can get to him.” She couldn’t repress a smile, though it had to be a rather grim one. “I’ll pass it on.” He nodded. “Do whatever it takes.” What would it take? Could anything she said or did really help? A thought occurred to her. It was daring and naughty and delicious. And the Mike Caldwell she remembered would love it. Maybe enough to keep on living for it.
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Chapter Two “You have to stay with me,” she told Mike when she slipped into the mind space again. “Or let me stay with you. I have an idea.” Idea? It didn’t come to her as exactly a spoken word, but more a word concept that transferred from his mind to hers. “Distraction. The kind I’m pretty sure you’ll like. I’m going to tell you about a dozen different ways to make love,” she promised him. “And two dozen sorts of foreplay.” She definitely had his attention. He tried to hide it from her, to push it out of his awareness, but she could still feel the fiery burn of seared places on his body and the deeper, heavier ache of bruises. He didn’t acknowledge the pain. You know that many? “Cross my heart. I’ve done some research.” I probably don’t want to know how. Would you demonstrate them? he asked. On me? I mean, in person. If… It startled her. “You mean that? You’d want to try it with me?” She had to stop a moment to consider how she felt about it. Could she honestly give him her word on that? Did she still want him? Of course she did. Whether she could deal with the other issues between them was something else again―but irrelevant at the moment. 23
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“If you still want me to when you get back, we’ll do every single one of them. That’s a promise.” I’ll hold you to it. “Good. The research mostly wasn’t in person. There’s a lot of amazing stuff in books and on the Internet when you get lonely. Mike, I don’t know…” He heard doubts. Just sex, if that’s how you want it. “It was never just sex. And the sex wasn’t the problem.” I know. The other stuff. Leave it for now. “I want to try them out on you. So damn it, you’ve got to hang on. You hear? Oh, and Colonel Huntley said to tell you it’s an order.” I hear. A faint thread of amusement laced through the thought. Do my best. “I won’t let you go.” When do you start? “Right now. We can start with the classics first. And revisit some of our more pleasant memories. You game?” Go for it. “Well, first up is everyone’s favorite sort of foreplay―kissing. Did you know I thought you were the world’s best kisser after our first one? Still do, for that matter.” Glad to hear I measure up. How many others did you try out? “Not your business. Okay, not that many. You were and still are the best. Spoiled me for any other man, in truth. 24
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“I dated a few men before you―and since―but I still remember the first time I saw you. There was something about you…” **** The office door squeaked, but I had my back to it with the phone against my ear and my eyes on the computer as I worked on straightening out some problems with one of Colonel Williamson’s requisitions. All the office chatter stopped as the other women turned to look at the newcomer, so I knew something was up. After hanging up the phone, I swiveled the chair and found myself facing this gorgeous man in full dress uniform who loomed over my desk, smiling down at me. The first lieutenant’s bar glittered, but your smile was even brighter and did strange things to my breathing. You were the most attractive man I’d ever seen. It wasn’t just your handsome face, though. Your height, your bearing―oh, everything about you―made everything female in me sit up and hum. “Can I help you?” I asked, relieved the words didn’t betray the effect you had on me. You stuck a hand out. “Lieutenant Michael Caldwell. Major Farmer sent me down to pick up some reports you were printing for him.” I stood and returned the smile, taking your hand. More than just warmth leapt from your palm to mine at the site of contact. It was almost an electric jolt, though not as sharp. More tingly. My skin felt different where you touched. Sort of 25
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energized and more sensitive. I hoped no blush betrayed my reaction. “Sheila Scranton. Hold on a moment. I have the reports right here.” I dug through the pile on my desk and found the right folder. I met your eyes again as I handed it to you. Bright blue-gray, with depths that kept plummeting deeper and deeper. You didn’t look away as I studied you. Did I really see a mirror of my own attraction in your eyes? I hoped it wasn’t just wishful thinking. But then you shook yourself and said, “Got to run. See you later.” You sped out of the room, leaving only a cloud of attraction behind. “Wowza, that one’s hot,” one of my younger co-workers said. “I hope he comes around again.” “He will,” one of the other women said. “Did you see the way he looked at Sheila? We’ll see him again.” But we didn’t. I kept thinking about you and hoping. I’d never been so instantly attracted to a man before. But after a few days went by with no word, I had to face the fact that you weren’t as interested in me as I’d been in you. Sad, but that’s the way it was. I even tried to find an excuse to call you again, but nothing really came to mind. The meeting was about getting the money for some new body armor, he interjected. And I felt it too, when we shook hands. I was in the middle of something at the time and it took a few days to get it done before I was free to call you. 26
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Ah so. Three days later, when I’d given up and convinced myself to forget you, you called me at home and asked if I remembered you and if I’d like to see a movie with you. I had to get my breath under control before I could answer. “I…remember…Yes! Sure I’d love to see a movie with you.” I stumbled through words to that effect. We arranged it for the next day, which conveniently happened to be a Friday. The movie had a superhero and car chases and lots of explosions. Just my style. Yours, too, as it turned out. Over dinner we talked and laughed about it, shared favorite scenes from other movies, and discussed what we’d seen and what we planned to rent when we had the free time. Then we moved onto childhoods, education, favorite books, and finally we got to politics. We didn’t agree over everything, but you listened to my arguments and responded calmly and intelligently. We talked for so long we lost all track of time and didn’t even realize they were closing until someone came over to tell us. When you drove me home, I spent the entire trip wondering if you’d kiss me goodnight and what that would feel like. Could I do it well enough to please you? The worries were more appropriate to a love-struck teenager than a mature woman in my twenties. I think you read my mind, though. I looked into your eyes and saw this wicked flame. You had a kind of crooked grin too. I knew I was going to get 27
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what I wanted. Couldn’t resist. Your mouth came down on mine and―Holy Hannah! It was everything I’d hoped―and more. Your lips were warm and firm and soft, but insistent. You brushed them over mine, and little tingles of pleasure went zinging all through me. Your tongue rubbed over my lips, and heat poured through me. My whole body sizzled. It was one of those “so this is what it’s all about” moments. Surges of electricity zipped along my skin, melting me from the inside out. I wanted, needed to be closer to you. Your tongue slipped inside and swiped so slickly, sweetly around my mouth. This luscious fire exploded inside me. It seemed to echo all the way down to the ends of my fingers and toes. I couldn’t think or hear or see or do anything but feel. The rest of the world disappeared into a haze of irrelevance. There was only us and the blaze we created. I have no idea how long it went on. Maybe hours. But it wasn’t long enough. You…your erection pressed against me, making me even hotter. My pussy swelled and got moist. I wanted to be closer to you so badly. I wanted to rip off your clothes and press my hands against your flesh. A button popped off your shirt as I was trying to get my hand against your bare skin. I remember it, too. A hint of laughter or a mental grin colored the thought. And then a car 28
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beeped. Yeah. We jumped apart like two guilty teenagers. And when we could manage to breathe again, you said, “You pack quite a punch, there.” And you said something equally intelligent. Yeah, something like, “That was…wow!” Or something just as brilliant. But you asked me to go out with you again the next day, and I think I danced into the house and floated as I got ready for bed. **** “That was a kiss I’ll never forget,” she told him. Same here. But three days later… “Ah, yes. Three days later, we proceeded to foreplay techniques two, three, four, and beyond.” Way beyond. Crap, I hear them coming again. “Stay with me and I’ll give you more pleasant things to think about.” You don’t want to be with me during this. You shouldn’t have to…know how ugly it can get. “Yes, I do. I need to be here with you. I think I can help.” He sighed through their mental link. His sense of decency―or was it just pride?―clashed with a desire for her comfort. But he didn’t push her away. He recognized that what she offered might help him resist. Mike was too smart to let pride overrule good sense. “Let’s try,” she insisted. All right. 29
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His captors jostled him as they moved him from the cot or bed to a chair. The shift made bruises ache and spots on his arms and chest burn with renewed fire. They began firing questions at him. Who sent him? Who was he meeting? What were their plans? They punctuated the queries with slaps to the face and fists in the stomach. She sucked in a breath. She had to ignore it and draw his attention to herself. “Stay with me now,” she reminded him. “It gets even better. Three days after the kiss, we stayed in at my apartment, watching a movie. We snuggled up together, but after a while…” “I don’t remember what that movie was about, but it had car chases and shootouts too.” It was a Bond movie. Can’t remember which one. “Makes sense. It was hard to pay much attention to it. You were so much more interesting than what was on the screen. I remember thinking you’d have made a great Bond yourself. I didn’t know how close to the truth that was. But you kept reaching out and touching me, so after a while I gave up trying to keep track of the plot. Hard to care about anything else when you ran a hand through my hair and down along my cheek, brushing so softly. Bright little electric shocks popped in my skin and the warmth lingered even after your hand moved.” **** 30
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You brushed down along my arm, a sweet tease that made my breasts tighten and tingle when your fingers got closer. But instead of going there, you went up again and cupped the back of my neck. You leaned over and your lips pressed against mine, gently at first, but then harder. The warmth and pressure made my womb tighten. I leaned in toward you, wanting more, more, more. Your tongue swiped over my lips and burrowed through them. Zowie. The tingles turned into fire. I got all hot and heavy inside―in my stomach and then rushing down into my core. I think it went on for a while but I was so lost in the heat and delicious sweetness of you, I didn’t notice time passing. Then you put one hand on my thigh and the other on my stomach. The heat of it burned through my clothes. My insides were twisting and turning, jumping up and down and dancing in delight. I wanted your flesh right against mine. I wanted my hands on you just as yours were on me. I yanked the hem of your polo shirt loose from the waistband of your jeans and stuck a hand underneath it. Beneath my fingers your skin felt warm and a little rough with hair, but the way your muscles clenched and rippled sent another wave of desire through me. I had on a loose sweater, so you had no trouble getting your hands under it. Your fingers were warm on my skin, brushing up and down, getting closer to my breasts with each pass. It startled me when you stopped then suddenly jerked the 31
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sweater up and over my head like you couldn’t wait a second longer. I loved that you were so desperate, so eager, and so masterful about it. Damn bra almost de…feated me, though. It did take a bit of fumbling. But the look on your face when you finally got it open and yanked it away was priceless. Your mouth dropped open and your eyes widened as you stared at my breasts. You were speechless for a minute, then you drew a long, loud breath and said, “They’re the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.” My stomach went tight and it felt like a party broke out in my heart. Then you put a finger on my breast, and it was another “Oh, wow!” moment, with a whole river of tingly thrills breaking out all over me. You touched gently, explored so carefully it was almost reverent. My head whirled with the sensations you roused. You brushed the side of your finger over my nipple, and it was like this huge jolt of electricity surged through me. I squealed, almost screamed it was so overwhelming. Your clever, questing fingers circled each breast, going around and spiraling inward until you reached the tip of each. Ohmigod, that made me so hot, so tense I gasped. It was almost too exquisite to bear. Did good things for me, too. I just had to feel you, to explore your body the way you were investigating mine. I slid both hands under your shirt and ran my palms up over your 32
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wonderful, warm―and well, a bit hairy―skin until I got to the pectoral muscles. You jerked and groaned when I rubbed and tweaked your nipples. You startled me again when you suddenly flipped the shirt over your head and off. My turn to be speechless for a couple of minutes. I mean, I’ve seen men before. No news in a naked male body, except this one was yours. And gorgeous. Most gorgeous one I’ve ever laid a hand on. So gorgeous, it had me gasping again. I loved your broad shoulders and the way they narrowed to your slim waist, but your chest―magnificent! I even loved that mat of dark hair on it. You had this warm masculine scent that combined with some woodsy fragrance you were wearing. I wanted to drown in it. I wanted more of you. Lots more. I unsnapped your jeans and reached for the zipper. You put a hand on mine to stop me. “Are you sure you want to do this? We’ve known each other less than a week. How far do you want to take it?” “All the way,” I answered. “I want all of you. Do you have protection?” The grin that spread over your face made my heart skip a beat. You said, “I’m prepared. I guess I kind of hoped… We seemed so explosive together that I knew something would happen. Or hoped, anyway.” “There’s something I need to tell you,” I said. You gave me a puzzled look, but then your expression went blank, not angry, but waiting to 33
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be. “I’m not very experienced. There’s only been one other, and it wasn’t very good. I’m not sure I’m any good at it.” Your harsh look changed to sheer, blazing astonishment, before a grin broke out. “You’re going to be great at it. I don’t know what was the problem with that other guy, but the way you respond to me? It’s going to be mindbending.” “It doesn’t bother you?” “No. Well, a little, but mostly because I want to strangle that guy in your past. But we’ll take it slow and see what you like. Okay?” “Slow’s okay with me.” **** Horrible, burning pain slashed down his face. She felt it, too. Not as pain, exactly, not for her, but the terrible, fiery shock jolted through every nerve and sinew of his body and then into hers. He fought to keep from screaming, every muscle locked against the agony. It all but blotted out his awareness for a few minutes while his mind concentrated on bearing the unbearable. He couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe. What could she do to help him? She couldn’t hold him or protect him in any way. Frustration made her want to scream, but that wouldn’t help him either. All she could do was stay with him and try to distract him again, when he was in condition to listen. 34
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Before she could say or do anything, though, she felt him mind-speaking her. Go on. Please! God. Take my… mind off… The words came weakly, desperately so, a plea he hated to make. This was a man she’d once loved, maybe still did. She fought the urge to yell her frustration that she could do so little to help. But he didn’t need that from her. “Your friends are coming for you,” she reminded him. “Hold on. You remember how that first time was? You promised me slow and did you ever deliver!” “You didn’t start that way, though.” **** You tackled the zipper of my slacks like a man possessed and stripped them off before I could even blink. My panties followed shortly after them. But then you slowed down. Your hands roved all over my body, stroking all the curves and recesses, and found places I didn’t even know were sensitive. The insides of my thighs… I moaned and squealed as you brushed up and down there. You swirled your tongue in a place under my ear that sent out flares of heat and jolts of pleasure. You stroked my breasts again, rubbing in circles, moving inward, until you got the nipples. You tweaked and pinched them until they got hard as little pebbles and jolts of raw, almost unbearable pleasure zapped me. Then you rubbed down over my stomach to my thighs. Damn, you almost drove me crazy when you 35
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started going up and down my thighs again, outside first, then up the insides, but stopping near the top every time. You had me begging for you to go higher, touch me where I wanted it the most. I thought I would die if you didn’t. Instead you flipped me over on the couch so that I was lying face down while you knelt beside it. I was ready to kill you for it, until you stroked along my back, down over my buttocks, cupping the lower curves and patting them gently. Oooh, I liked that. You set my whole body aflame with need for you. “You’re so beautiful,” you said. “It almost blinds me.” No one had ever said anything that nice to me before and I wasn’t sure what to say to it. I fell back on a flip answer to cover my confusion. “In that case, you better avert your eyes. I don’t think my insurance covers that.” You laughed and said, “I think I’m going to fall in love with you.” God, my heart did cartwheels so hard I wasn’t sure it would stay inside me. Maybe it didn’t. I think I gave it to you right then. But then it occurred to me. Would you still feel that way when you found out about my talent? **** We’ll deal with it he interrupted. Sheila winced. The words had triggered the memory of what had come later, when he found out what she could to, and she’d forgotten she was sharing her thoughts with him. 36
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“Sorry. Didn’t mean to bring up a point of conflict,” she told him. “Not now.” We’ve both grown up a bit since then. “I hope―” Something slammed into him, rousing an ache deep in the gut this time. She hurried to resume the reminiscence of their first time making love.
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Chapter Three Your fingers roved up the insides of my thighs again―so carefully and gently, but just firm enough to generate ripples of pleasure. Heat poured through me, gathering in my core. Every nerve screamed for more, every muscle tightened in anticipation, my pussy throbbed with need. I wanted you so badly right then I thought I’d die if you didn’t get inside me. I flipped myself over. You still had your jeans on and I dove for the zipper like a woman possessed. Which I was. Possessed by raging need and desire. My hands shook as I undid the button and struggled with the zipper. You finally took over yourself and shucked off jeans and briefs, revealing an impressively erect cock. When you nudged my legs with your knee, I spread them apart to give you easier access. There was something just thoroughly delicious about being bare and open for you, responding to your commands. Instead of getting on top of me, though, you stretched me out on the sofa and knelt beside me. You parted the folds of my labia to run gentle fingers over the tissues within. Ohmigod, it was like nothing I’d ever felt before. Sparks blazed and lit up my insides. 38
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I squealed like a silly mouse, but when you touched me it roused the most exquisite, nearly unbearable shards of pure pleasure. They ripped through me like bolts of electricity. I panted and moaned because it just felt so…fabulous. It sucked all the air from my lungs. Pressure built inside, a need for a completion that rushed toward me. Each time your finger brushed my pussy I got tighter and tighter. The muscles of my legs and back locked so rigid I didn’t know how to bear it. The pressure in my cunt felt like a dam straining to hold back a flood. Then you flicked my clit with your finger and for a moment the world stopped spinning. A volcano rumbled inside me. You did it again. I sucked in a long breath and let it out on a groan. I needed more. It was building up to some kind of huge explosion. You rubbed a few more times, getting firmer and faster, and then the dam inside me shattered. The volcano erupted. A huge rush of pleasure engulfed me. It came in surges that built and broke, making me spasm and jerk each time. It subsided gradually, but left an amazing feeling of peace and joy. I moaned, “Holy Hannah, Mike, that was…Holy moly.” You gave me a few minutes to wallow in it before you said, “We’re not done yet, but this may not be as pleasant.” I was way beyond caring at that point. And there was something still missing. Something only 39
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you could give me. “I want all of you.” Fortunately you showed more control. You reached for your jeans and grabbed a packet out of them, rolled on the condom and joined me on the couch, kneeling between my legs, right over me. You said, “Far be it from me to deny a lady’s request,” but then you asked, “Are you ready?” I answered, “Whenever you are.” “Honey, I was ready half an hour ago.” “Then what are you waiting for now?” You were incredibly gentle and careful when you nuzzled your cock into my passage. Too careful. You didn’t make much progress being gentle. “Push harder. I can handle it,” I said. You drew back and then shoved in more forcefully, embedding yourself deep in me. It burned a bit inside and felt uncomfortable, but I relished the feeling of your big, strong body so close to mine. I loved the way your face screwed up in pleasurable tension when you pulled out and drove back in. I wrapped my arms around you as you pistoned in and out. Your breath grew harsher, coming in sharp pants. It thrilled me to know I had the power to make you so hot and desperate. The friction hurt a bit and I got tense. You must have felt it. Between a couple of hard breaths, you said, “Try to relax a bit. It will be easier.” I was almost fighting you, so I forced my muscles to slacken, to accept your invasion. And it worked. Something deep in my core changed. I 40
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could feel your rhythm. My body responded to it, began to move with it. The pressure of you inside brought a new sort of need. It didn’t rouse me far enough to be more than a bit of revived tension, but I thought it might lead to something more, eventually. Still, even if it was a bit uncomfortable, it was you, and I was already falling in love with you, so I wanted it to be as good as possible. You whispered in my ear, telling me how beautiful and sensual I was. And you were so careful. It roused a fierce tenderness in me, and I just wanted to hold you there with me forever. But you were getting tenser now and moving faster. I tried to move with you, to make it even more pleasurable for you, and I think it worked. Finally, you drew back and plunged one last time. You made this incredible noise―half shout, half groan―as you came. **** “We lay together for a while afterward, you on top of me. You were heavy, but I loved it. I loved being close to you. I was tired and a bit sore, but sated and happy and peaceful in a way I’d never been before. I felt like someone different after that―a woman, where before I’d been a girl.” It was a highlight for me, too, he told her. You gave me something special. “We gave each other a gift. Love. Even if it didn’t last, it was wonderful for a time.” Is it dead? The love? “I don’t think it ever dies completely. But it 41
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gets stretched. And sometimes it can’t thrive.” When one partner can’t accept who and what the other is. How was she supposed to answer that? Her gift had certainly bothered Mike, but it was also true that her control of it hadn’t been as good. It hadn’t happened at the time, but she couldn’t guarantee him she’d never accidentally invade his mind in just the way he feared. He’d walked away, but remorse now lay like a shadow over their past in his mind. They’d both had issues to deal with when the relationship grew more serious. She’d had a hard time coping when he’d disappear on a mission without telling her where he was going or why. “We were both young. Too young.” True. Have we—? “Grown? Matured? I hope so. Can we still find something together? I don’t know, Mike. I’ll bet the chemistry’s still there between us, though. If you want it, I’m willing to try.” A blow landed near his chin, and he faded into unconsciousness again. She wanted to scream in terror and frustration. How much more could he take? **** “How much longer?” she asked Colonel Huntley. “It’s hard terrain. The choppers haven’t spotted anything, so we’re assuming they’re in a cave. Ground troops are almost there. Another ten to twelve hours.” 42
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“But they still have to find the cave.” “Mike gave us a few clues. We’ll find it.” “He’s getting weaker. I don’t know how much time he has.” “Keep him going,” the colonel urged. “Let him know we’re getting close.” **** Sheila slept lightly, attuned to anything happening with Mike, so she roused when his awareness started to return. “Mike?” Here. Are they close? I’m… She recognized the thought before he clamped down and pushed it away. He was weak and the pain was bad. “They’re close. You’ve got to hang on. Stay with me.” Trying. Not easy. “I know. You remember the night we made love on the beach in North Carolina?” Remember. He even gave a slight mental chuckle. Fun. “It was, wasn’t it?” **** We’d been together a couple of months by then. You had a few days’ leave so we caught a flight to North Carolina and rented a car to drive to the Outer Banks. The weather put on its best show for us. It was warm but not too hot. The sun shone yellow in a vividly blue sky. We spent most of our first day there playing in the surf, swimming and sun-bathing. In the evening we went for a moonlight stroll 43
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on the beach. A soft, cool breeze moderated the warmth of the day and the stars blazed in the black sky. So romantic. We held hands as we walked and skipped up the sand to avoid waves that came up high enough to swirl around our feet. When we didn’t get out of the way quite fast enough, the water massaged our toes with cool foam. We found a lovely little niche under a dune, sheltered from the breeze, but with a perfect view out over the ocean. It was close to the hotel but out of sight of casual walkers. The perfect place to stop for a kiss and cuddle. It was such a beautiful night. The moon cast a wide ripple of silver across the water. Waves rolled smoothly into shore and broke on the beach with a soothing, rhythmic crash and splash. Being with you made it that much better. I still had this sense of wonder about you…about us. I’d never get enough of holding you and feeling your body against mine, of filling my senses with you. Whenever I smell the ocean or get close to a man wearing that pine-scented fragrance you used, I can’t help thinking of you and that night. Your voice in the darkness sang to me like the deep, throaty music of a cello or bass guitar. You made a joke about sand in our clothes and I both felt and heard the rumble of your laughter. The feel of your skin always gave me shivers. I got my hands under your shirt and explored your chest. My fingers tangled in the hair there, and 44
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when I brushed over your nipples you groaned. That sound was music to me, too, a fine, drawn-out note from a trumpet. You tolerated it for a minute or two before you drew my hands away, pushed up my tee shirt and leaned over. I jumped about a foot when you pulled my nipple into your mouth. Your tongue swirled around the tip. Fire broke out inside and alarm bells went off, only I wasn’t about to tell you to stop. Your cock poked into my stomach. I had to hold onto your shoulders because my legs just quit working. I can’t remember exactly how we ended up lying on the sand, but your mouth never left my breast in the process. I squirmed with the delicious sensations your tongue roused as it circled my nipple. You flicked one tip and then the other, going back and forth, and each touch of your tongue roused the volcano inside. My blood ran hot and bubbly in my veins. Then you drew one deeper into your mouth and sucked hard. The volcano rumbled with the pressure building. I panted and sobbed, a little embarrassed, but I couldn’t stop. You bit down, just hard enough to send a slight shock of pain through me. It was unbelievable. Fiery, ripping shards of nearly unbearable pleasure shot straight through me, burrowing into my core. My pussy swelled and the moisture dripped. When I could breathe again, I asked, “How do you always know the right things to do?” 45
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You answered, “Observation. Maybe a bit of ESP where you’re concerned.” I went still and shivered. Was it possible you could read my thoughts, just as I could have done yours? I didn’t, but if I could do it, there were probably others who could also. I hadn’t told you about that yet. I was terrified of how you’d react to it. But if you could do it and had, you surely would’ve said something about it by then. Did I broadcast my thoughts so that you could pick them up? Maybe you had some latent ability yourself? No one else ever had understood me so well. I was relieved when you asked, “Are you chilly?” and you put your arms around me, drawing me against your hard, warm body. “No, I’m fine,” I said, “Just distracted for a moment. Sorry.” “You’re sure you don’t want to go inside?” “No. I love it out here.” The darkness suited me well at that moment. I didn’t want you to see my face or guess how worried I was, so I said, “It’s romantic here, with the ocean and the moon.” To distract you―and myself, too, in truth―I reached under your shirt and scrabbled for the button on your shorts. Once it was undone, I pushed my hand down until I could cup it around the bulge of your cock. The chill and my lapse hadn’t affected it. Full and heavy, it jerked when my fingers touched it, swelling even more. You made a gulping noise that encouraged me to continue and explore further. I had to shift a bit 46
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to get the rest of my hand beneath the elastic of your briefs, but it was worth the effort. You felt so incredible when I wrapped my fingers around your shaft, warm and hard, but the skin was so soft. When I stroked it up and down, you kind of jumped and your face screwed up. I could just barely see it in the moonlight, but your lips pressed together as if you could hardly bear it. You groaned but let me explore for a while. At the same time, you ran your fingers up my bare thigh and under my shorts. I jumped almost as high and fast as you had, when you touched my slit. Rippling waves of pleasure drew a few moans from me this time. I wondered briefly if anyone was around to hear, but then you brushed my clit and thought fled. Desperate need drove us hard so we ripped off the rest of our clothes, and then you were over me, pushing into me, making me gasp with the sheer pleasure of containing you. I couldn’t see much in the dark, but my other senses reacted more vividly, drinking in the sound of the breakers mixed with your pants and groans, and the salty smell of the ocean. That scent lay on your skin, joining with your male essence. Your body felt so hard and so strong wrapped around me. I was protected and sheltered in your embrace. Your cock pistoning in and out made me even more tight around you. A few minutes of that and the pleasure and need it drove blotted out everything else. A wave of tension built inside me, 47
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rising higher with each of your plunges. Your cock found the sensitive place inside me that spasmed each time you rubbed against it. The feeling was almost too much for one body to hold. You filled and stimulated me to a point I got so tight I knew I’d have to break soon. Our breathing got rougher and faster, but you murmured between pants. “You feel so good. So hot. So tight. So welcoming.” I was on fire. A huge wave gathered inside, getting higher and tighter. The pistoning in and out grew faster, harder, rougher. I took it all and wanted more. I wrapped my legs around your waist to draw you even deeper. The tsunami of pleasure, need, tension, rose higher. Your breath came in harsh, driving pants as you rammed into me. The heat grew and swelled until it finally couldn’t contain the pressure anymore. It crested and broke. I screamed as it jerked me in glorious spasms of release. The waves of sensation carried us for a while and I didn’t want to come down. You let out this wonderful long groan as you came, too. It blended with the breakers on the beach. We became part of the rhythm of the world. Moments later, you collapsed over me and we clung together in the lovely, ocean-scented darkness. For a time the only sounds were the waves, the breeze and our loud, panting breaths. Then you said those magic words to me for the first time. “I love you.” 48
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I whispered, “I love you, too.” **** I’m sorry, he said. I wish now… “I’m sorry I brought up that part of it. I got too caught up in the memory. Anyway, we’ll have time to see if we can find it again. But you’ve got to hang on.” I’ve already found it again. Never was lost. Was just my stupidity… “Plenty of blame to go around. We were young. We weren’t ready. All that stuff. We’re both a bit more mature now.” He struggled to keep his attention focused on her. The pain was huge and each time they hurt him more, a part of him wanted to let go. She felt the urge to give up tugging at him. It took a heroic effort to resist. Tell me… Your research. New ideas. “Oh, right. We weren’t very adventurous back then, were we?” Felt good enough to me. But we…were just learning. “Right. Well, here are some things we overlooked.”
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Chapter Four You’re lying on my bed. I ask, “Will you let me have my way with you? Do whatever I want?” “Anything at all?” you ask. “Anything.” You look dubious. You’re not good at trust, even with me, maybe especially with me, but finally you answer. “If you insist.” “I do. Believe me, you’ll like it.” You nod. “We’ve got all day,” I tell you, “and I plan to take it slow.” I begin to strip off your clothes, starting with shoes and socks. I give your bare feet a quick massage. Even your toes turn me on. Your expression becomes peaceful and a bit of pleasure makes the ends of your mouth curl. Feet…not an erogenous zone. Want to bet? I think you’ll be surprised. Willing…to try. After I’ve got your toes nice and warmed up, I move to the buttons of your shirt. I rub your chest and tweak your nipples a few times. Hard enough to pinch, but your face tightens and your lips form a half-smile. My hands brush down your chest to your belly, rubbing and caressing as I go. I stop to explore your belly button. You groan then. Nice 50
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and loud. I take time with the button and zipper of your jeans, then tug them down your legs even more slowly. My hands tickle up your calves, over your knees and along your thighs until just below the edge of the briefs. Then I do it again on your other leg. By this time you’re jerking and moaning and getting very hard. In fact, I see your cock straining against the front of your briefs. I touch it, through the cloth. I― Oh, God! **** A fiery burn raked along his side. Swirls of red and starry black shapes overrode his awareness before he faded out. Would he wake again? Could she bear it if he didn’t? She roused herself, though she kept an edge of her awareness in the mind space to be sure she’d know when he came to. To her surprise, Colonel Huntley sat with her. “Are you all right? You cried out and it was pretty horrible.” “It was Mike. They did something pretty bad to him.” “Is he still…?” “Alive? Yes, but I don’t know how much longer he’ll last. I don’t know if he’ll wake again.” The colonel reached over and took her hand. “When I agreed to let you try this, I had no idea what it might do to you.” “Of course not. No reason you should.” 51
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“If he does die, what will it do to you?” “I’ll probably wish I could go with him, but I won’t. I don’t plan to let him go, however.” “Good.” “He’s unconscious right now, and I need to eat.” “I thought that might happen. I’m afraid MREs are the best I can do.” “That’ll be fine. How close are your guys to him?” Huntley sighed. “We’ve got a pretty good idea where he is, but it’s bad terrain. They’re getting there, but it’s not easy.” “Please tell them to hurry. He really can’t take much more.” Sheila ate a meal and a half and tried to fall asleep for a while. Another memory haunted her dozing state, one she didn’t want to share with him right now. Bad enough they’d shared it then. Their last date. Her revelation and its devastating effect. **** To celebrate the six-month anniversary of their dating, they went to dinner at an upscale restaurant. The dim lighting, excellent service, soft music, hushed voices around them, the smooth glow of the wine and the savor of the food all combined with the joy of his company to make it a memorably romantic evening. He was scheduled to leave the next day on an assignment that would take him oversees for a month or more, so they wanted it to be special. After dinner, they went to her apartment. 52
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She’d bought an expensive brandy she knew he liked. She left him in the living room while she poured tiny glasses of it for each of them. When she returned, he sat on the couch, wearing an odd grin. It wasn’t the usual confident killer smile that always knocked her off her feet. This one looked almost nervous. She handed him the glass. After a quick sip and an appreciative smile, he set it down on the side table. In a jerky motion that lacked all his normal grace, he pulled an object from behind him. “I have something for you,” he said, holding out a small jeweler’s box. Her heart did flip-flops in her chest as she took it and opened it. An exquisite diamond winked at her. As soon as she’d seen the box, she’d guessed it would be a ring and had steeled herself for what she had to do. She shut her eyes a moment to fight back tears while she snapped the box closed. “It’s lovely. More. It’s fabulous. But I can’t accept it yet.” His eyes widened. “Why not?” “There’s something you need to know. It might make you feel differently about me.” “I can’t imagine.” He frowned at her. “No. You wouldn’t.” Sheila drew a deep breath. “I have a…a talent. An ability most people don’t have. I read minds.” He blinked and didn’t move or say anything for a moment. His expression changed to puzzlement. “You what? You…believe that?” 53
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“No. I know it.” “But it’s not possible.” “That’s what most people think,” she said. “I know it is possible.” “What am I thinking right now?” he asked. She didn’t bother to use the gift. “You’re thinking that I’m either secretly crazy or a bit deluded and wondering why you hadn’t noticed it before. Now, try me on something hard. Go back to your childhood and think of something you haven’t thought about in a long time. Something you haven’t told me about.” He sighed. “All right.” His eyes got a faraway look as he thought. She did use the talent this time. Putting a hand on his arm, she focused her own mental energy inward until she found the link between them. She saw a young Mike holding a brown and white cocker spaniel. He threw a yellow tennis ball and the dog chased after it. “You had a dog when you were a boy,” she said. “A small brown and white one. She used to chase tennis balls when you threw them, but then she didn’t want to give them back. You had a pocket full of dog treats and you’d give her one to get her to drop the ball.” He went utterly still. “You really can do it.” The words came out flat, unhappy, unwillingly convinced. “I really can.” “Invade other people’s minds.” “I can. I don’t. But I can.” 54
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“You don’t…ever? Not even accidentally, on occasion?” he asked. “Well… Once or twice, I have. But I try not to.” “But you can’t guarantee you won’t do it. To me, for instance?” “No, I can’t. All I can guarantee is that I’ll try not to.” She could see by his expression that wasn’t going to be good enough. Unhappily she handed the ring back to him. “Have a drink. Think about it.” He set the ring box on his thigh and reached for his glass. The hand he wrapped around it shook. “I think I…I don’t know to handle this. I need time.” He stood up. “You’re leaving tomorrow. Take the ring and take the time to think about it. Call me when you get back if you think you can deal with it.” He got up and went. He had the grace to call the next morning to say goodbye and tell her he’d try to work out his feelings while he was gone. Mike’s job ended up taking almost three months rather than the one month it was supposed to. He called her several times during that period. The first few times were strained. He gave some sketchy details of what he was doing and asked what she was up to. They didn’t talk about her gift. The last call came near the end of the assignment. He told her he didn’t think he could deal with constantly wondering if she was eavesdropping on his thoughts. **** Good thing he now admitted he’d been a jerk. It was true. Could she forgive him for it? That 55
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question rattled in her brain as she finally did fall asleep. Once they were out of this, she’d give him the sex she’d promised. Did she dare offer her heart again? She woke when she felt Mike rouse. He immediately reached out for her. Sheila? You there? “I’m here. You’re hanging on, right?” Best I can. Better not take much longer. “They’re getting close to you. Stay with me. Are you alone right now?” For the moment. “Good. Now where were we?” I put myself in your power. You were undressing me. “Right. We’d gotten down to the briefs.” **** I tease you for a while, tracing the shape of your cock through the fabric, reaching down below to cup your balls and squeezing. A drop of pre-cum stains the cotton but I’m not ready to take the briefs off yet. My hand runs up and down your thighs and I tweak your nipples a few times. I kiss your mouth then let my lips travel down your cheek, your throat, your chest and along your belly, licking occasionally as I go. I press my lips over the outlined shape of your cock and you suck in a huge breath. You’re squirming and almost out of control by the time I lift the cotton fabric over your erection and take the briefs off. 56
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Once you’re naked, I take a few moments to admire your body. You look hard, tanned, dark, and strong against my white sheets. The veins that seam your long, full cock give it a tough, masculine appearance. It juts upward proudly. Watching you sets all my hormones fizzing, and I say, “I love seeing you like this, naked, out of control and under my power.” “If it pleases you, it pleases me.” You have that shit-eating grin on your face that I love. Bet I’ll like what comes next even better. I undress myself then, doing a nice easy striptease for you, taking it really slow with my bra and panties. I have some extra special undies for the occasion, red satin and lace, with see-through panels over the nipples and crotch. Hell, I can picture you in them. You’ll be gorgeous. Good. Hold that picture. On second thought, I keep the undies on for a bit. Should be nice for what comes next. I’ve got this pitcher on my dresser. I’ve taken some jam and warmed it in the microwave, just enough to make it run smoothly. It’s still thick enough to stay in place, though, when I hold the pitcher over your chest and dribble jam in a pair of X shapes there. Each one has a nipple at its center. I give you a minute to absorb the feel of the warm jam on your chest, before I start to lick it up. I begin at the outermost points and use my tongue to lap up the jelly, moving slowly inward, until I get to the raised tip of your nipple. 57
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I’ll be moaning and thrashing on the bed by that time. Might get jam on the sheets. It’s a sacrifice, but I’m willing to make it. When I’ve finished the first X, you say, “Kiss me. Let me taste it.” Absolutely. I lick up the first line from the other side, but keep the jam on my tongue as I kiss you. We share the sweetness of it. It tastes like strawberries and you. Great combination. Glad you like it. Next I suck up the rest of it from around your other nipple and share some more, but I do it with small flicks of my tongue so it takes a while. Occasionally I suck harder or bite down to get all of the jam. Your fingers dig into the sheets and your hands ball into fists. Once I’ve licked up every bit, I get the pitcher again. Guess where I’m going to pour it this time? Balls? We’ll get to around to them, but not just yet. I dribble a dollop on your abdomen, in a circle around your navel, then along your thighs, in two lines from just above each knee to just below the joining. You’ll have me all but screaming by the time you lick up all that. That’s the idea. Once I― Shit. Here they come again. Ignore them. Stay with me. This is going to be much more interesting. I’m licking jam off your thighs. My tongue gets a bit tangled in the hair as it 58
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stokes up and down. I flick off to the side occasionally. My cheek accidentally brushes your balls. It takes more work, but I finally get all the jam slurped up. I kiss you again to let you taste it. Then it’s pitcher time again. This time I drip it very slowly along the length of your cock. It’s warm and sticky and it crawls in tiny rivulets down to your balls. I’ll bet that tickles. Not sure tickle is…hell. Ah, it’s firing your blood. It smells like strawberries and sugar. I reach down and put a finger in the jam on your cock, swirling it, smearing it up and down the shaft. Would be heaven. I run my finger across that crease, that sensitive fold just below the head. You jump and moan. You jerk as if bolts of electricity are shooting through you. Close enough. Good. You sweat and pant like a freight train. I move my finger upward to the head of your cock. Another bead of pre-cum leaks from the tip so I swirl it in with the jam, making a widening spiral as I go around and around the head. Your cock jerks and throbs. You’re getting close to exploding. Yeah. Hold it in, though. It’s going to get better yet. I’m bending over you now and I press my tongue to your cock to start licking up the jam. Mmmm... The strawberry aroma makes an alluring mix with your male essence. My tongue glides over the skin, lubricated by the jam. 59
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I start in the middle and work my way up to the top. Oooh, the jam mingles with another drop of your pre-cum there. Yummy! I kiss you and let you taste it. Then I stroke back down along the length of it. I stop to take a little nip right at the top of your balls. Then I go back up along the shaft to the head and I’m nipping lightly, right on the crease where head and shaft meet. Baby! Yeah. You’re getting totally wild and out of control. The bed rattles and shakes. Good thing I have a first-floor apartment. Now I lean back and get the pitcher again. This is the last of it and it’s going on your balls. You squirm delightfully as I pour. Once it’s coated them I set the pitcher down and go back to licking. My tongue scoots down over the center of your sac and zig-zags to each side You’re getting hard and hot. I draw one ball into my mouth and suck the whole thing to get the last of the jam off it. You can’t stand it anymore. You yank me down and roll me over. I’m hot and ready for you by this time, so I spread my legs to let you plunge deep inside. You take me quick, hard and rough, just the way I want it right then. You slam into me again and again, while I get tight and tense around you, jerking in rhythm with you, until the climax crashes over both of us at the same time. **** Good, he said. Want that. More. Jam… on you, 60
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next time. “Definitely. “ God! The questions came at him again. To her they were a buzz in the background of his mind. The blows his captors struck when they didn’t get the answers they wanted reverberated through her as a series of shocks that jolted him. The pain was all too vivid, a savage red haze that almost blotted out thought and awareness. Over and over they pounded on places already unbearably painful. His consciousness wavered in and out. Sheila reached desperately for more fantasies to tease him with. “Mike! Stay with me. Here’s a similar idea that might interest you.” **** I’ve got a can of whipped cream this time, but I think I’ll turn it over to you and let you have the first spray. Where would you put it? Breasts. You got it. You spray a dollop on each of my nipples. It’s cool and slick. You lean over and start to lick it off. Your tongue is hot. Ohmigod, the way it rasps over my breast is amazing. It’s rough over my tender skin, but it feels so good spreading the cream. Each time you swipe my nipple, shards of pleasure blast through me. Each lick makes me squirm. That fierce sensation shoots straight from my skin down into my core. My cunt swells and there’s more than one kind of cream sliding over my body. When you spray it on my abdomen, I shiver in 61
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anticipation. Your tongue is gentle and careful there, but when it pokes into my navel I squeal. Little darts of pleasure, like tiny needles, launch from the site, straight into my womb. You hold the can over my pussy, teasing for a moment, watching my eyes widen as I wait. The anticipation has me almost shaking. Finally you reach down and squirt the cream into my slit. I yelp as it hits my most sensitive places. It’s cool and smooth, like frosting on my cunt. It tingles in a beguiling way. You lean over and begin to lap it up with your tongue. I nearly shoot straight up off the bed; it’s so shocking and yet so fabulous. I squirm and squeal and even giggle as your tongue combines with the slick cream to send the most amazingly delicious sensations through me. You lick all around my pussy and slowly work your tongue inside my labia. A gentle sucking pressure on my clit makes me scream as pressure and need build to almost intolerable levels. You look up at me with that devilish grin curving your lips and sparks lighting your eyes and say, “I want you to taste yourself.” So you take one more long lick, from the bottom of my pussy up along my clit, and then you kiss me with the cream still on your tongue. I get the salty-sweet flavor of my own essence mixed with the cream and the taste of you. It explodes in a carousel of flavor in my mouth and I want you, want you so bad I’m ready to grab you and drag you down on top of me. 62
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But you back off out of my reach before I can do it, and lean over my cunt again. You spray a bit more cream there and begin to nibble. You suck at the sides of my thighs, nip at my, labia and tickle the insides with your tongue. It’s sending these blasts of pleasure through me like sharp knives. You lick my clit again and again, nipping it once or twice, and the pressure builds inside until I can’t contain it any more. I scream and jerk as I come, over and over. I finally begin to calm down again, and now― My turn. Right. You lay down beside me on the bed and I kneel facing you, taking the can from you. I spray little globs of cream in various places and lick them off. I mean the odd places like on your throat and your hands and down your sides, finding sensitive places I didn’t know about in the process. Who’d have guessed you’d jerk and moan when my tongue caresses the inside of your elbow? I don’t bother to tease you with it when I hold the can over your groin, but go right ahead and spray. You jerk and gasp when the cream hits your cock. My mouth follows right behind. I lick down along the shaft, caressing with my tongue as I go. You can’t stay still now. You’re writhing on the bed and groaning and making odd little gurgling sounds of pleasure. They burrow into my heart. You’re so tense, you’re quaking and about to explode. I draw your whole cock in my mouth and suck. It doesn’t take more than a minute or two before you come in my mouth and I struggle to take 63
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all of it and swallow. The taste of the cream lingers, but it’s mostly you, Mike Caldwell, and that’s enough to thrill me to the tips of my toes. **** Tasty, he agreed. Not elbow, though. You’ll have to find exactly the right spot. “A challenge. I’m up for it.” Me too. “We’ve only done fronts, too. Lots more to explore. We’ll need plenty of time to find every sensitive place on each other. You ready to try?” Thi… Think so. He sounded weaker. He could barely hold himself together enough to respond to her but he tried. Mostly for her sake. She’d have to work harder to keep his attention and make him stay with her. “Here’s another one to think about.” **** I tell you, “Flip over and lie on your tummy.” Still have jam and cream all over me? Oh, wait. Did I forget to tell you about the shower we took? Shouldn’t overlook it. That was another sort of foreplay… Well, and sex, too. Never mind. Let’s backtrack a little. With all that whipped cream and jam and whatnot, we’re both pretty sticky by the time we’ve finished that last round. Happy, yes, but goopy. So we traipse into my bathroom to shower. I have a tub that can fit us both, though it’s pretty tight. Once the water’s warm we both 64
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squeeze in there. I pick up the soap and work up a lather, then I spread it all over your chest. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of running my hands over you. I’ll have scars. That’s a problem―why? Just more to explore on you, as long as they’re not painful. So anyway… Rubbing you is good, but it gets even better when I take the soap again and start running it down your belly to your groin. Your cock stirs again. You’re insatiable. I tell you to turn around. Once you’re facing the tile wall of the shower, I take the bar of soap and drag it over your shoulders and down your back, massaging as I go. Your muscles jump and bunch under my hands. I love that! I take the soap down farther, to your waist, and keep going. I haven’t spent much time exploring your buttocks. A waste! They’re fantastic. Hard, slim, muscular. And responsive. You jerk as I run my free hand down your buttcheek to where it meets the top of your thigh. I’ll bet your cock’s standing up again. I peek around to check, and sure enough―Yes it is. I grab your butt and squeeze, digging my fingertips into your skin just a little. It’s just too hard to resist. You feel so good. Feels good to me, too. I take the soap and start at the top of your crack, pushing a corner of the bar into the gap. You shiver again, wondering what I’m doing. I run it down, sliding it along the line between 65
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your cheeks, working it deeper as it moves. Half an inch of the bar is embedded in that gap now. As it gets lower, you move, parting your legs a few inches so I can reach farther. Your breath is getting rough as the soap slides down and finally touches your anus. I pause there to let you enjoy it, then wiggle the bar and rub back and forth a few times. You groan and put your hands against the wall to support yourself. I had no idea that area was so sensitive. You’re leaning forward so I can move the soap even further, running it along the skin between your anus and balls. You jump and suck in a sharp breath. It comes out again as a moan. So of course I have to work on that area some more, going back and forth, pressing harder then gliding lightly to see what you like best. All of it. Yeah, I can tell. This is getting to you. In a good way. I continue for a minute, then slide the soap forward some more, onto your balls. You like that too. Wicked woman. I’m still learning, but the research has been interesting. I work over your balls, circling around them with the soap and cupping them in one hand while I stroke with the other. I reach between your legs to run it up your cock. Can’t quite get to the head that way, but I go up and down the shaft. Then I start pulling the soap back toward me, over your balls and between your thighs, stopping at your anus again for a few rubs. You’re going to 66
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be thoroughly clean. I turn around…grab bar of soap. Oh. Right. You’re taking charge here now. Mmm… I’m ready for that. Where are you going with the soap? Same places you did on me. Okay, breasts first? Tummy first. Then up, then down. Okay. I back against the shower wall. The tile is cool against my back and buttocks. But then you put the bar against my abdomen and swoop it up and down. The water’s warm and the soap is slick. Your hands are coated with lather and they glide over my skin. Plus the warm water from the shower is spraying me. It’s yummy. All of it. Your hands do glorious things going up and down my tummy, from just above my pussy to the bottoms of my breasts. Little sparks of electricity burst inside me and start warming my blood. Then you run your soapy hands over my breasts and tweak the nipples and damn! My pussy’s swelling again and the pressure is growing inside. I want you again. I may never get enough of you. Now you go down and―oh my heavens! This is better even than the whipped cream. Your soapy fingers glide over my pussy lips and then go inside. The heat’s starting to cook inside me. It feels as if the bubbles from the soap got into my pussy and began to bounce around in there. When you tell me to turn around, though, my stomach kind of clenches. I’m not even sure why 67
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I’m nervous about it. I trust you. I know you’ll stop if I don’t like something and I tell you so. It’s scary but it’s exciting at the same time. I turn and put my hands on the shower wall to support myself, just as you did. Your soapy hands are all over my back, rubbing and stroking and that just feels sooo good, relaxing and exciting at the same time. Then you dip lower, down over my buttocks and that gets even more exciting. I like the feel of your hands there. It rouses that heat that makes my blood feel bubbly as it surges through me. I want more. Then you start with the bar of soap. I know it’s coming but still there’s a thrill of shock when it slides into my butt crack. You move it down ever so slowly and I begin to shake as it rouses strange, new feelings. Sparkles of energy travel through me and the heat is growing in my pussy. The soap touches my anus and I shriek with the sensations it rouses. This is so…strange and exciting. A sort of forbidden thrill. Even though I’d read about it in my research, I’d never thought it would arouse me at all. But the sensations tearing through me are making my head whirl and my pussy tighten. I’m panting and it gets even harder to draw enough air as you move the soap forward to my slit. You work it into the folds of my labia, parting them, and then rub the bar back and forth over my clitoris. I just about jump out of my skin. God, the feeling is like…a whole tribe of butterflies 68
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fluttering around inside me. The heat and the pressure build inside me until I’m about ready to explode. Somehow you know just the moment to stop, though, before I cross that threshold. You move closer and I feel your cock against my buttocks. I part my legs and put one foot up on the edge of the tub. Your cock slides between my legs, but you don’t try to enter. Instead you say to me, “Squeeze your legs together.” I do that. Your chest is against my back. Your nibble at my ear as your arms wrap around me, find my breasts and tweak the nipples. That heat is rising even higher. You’re all around me, holding me, wrapping me, pleasuring me. You begin to slide your cock in and out between my legs. It rubs against the sensitive area of my vulva and rear. One hand slides down from my breast and your fingers tweak my clit again. Dear God, I can’t stand it for long. The water beating on us, your lips nibbling at my ear, your cock between my legs, your body against mine and your fingers on my bud… It’s too much. Overwhelming. I’m a balloon, swelling and swelling, getting stretched too thin. I won’t be able to hold it in much longer. You pinch my nipple hard and push between my legs even harder. A bolt of raging electricity fires through me and the balloon swells again and then bursts. I jerk and spasm and jerk and spasm―so hard I’d fall over if you weren’t holding onto me. Of course, you’re shuddering, too, as you orgasm. 69
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My world is rocking again. **** “Mike, are you there?” He’d been silent for a while. Here. Fading. At least…they’re gone again. “Stay with me. We haven’t even gotten to the hot oil yet. And some other wrinkles. Some amazing stuff. You’ll want to hear about it.” It wasn’t exactly a sigh, but a wave of regret came from him. Knew you were a remarkable woman. Never should have… His consciousness winked out before he finished the thought. Sheila had a few minutes of panic, wondering if he’d come out of it again. He was so battered and damaged. She deepened the connection until she could feel the essence of his dreaming mind. It was weak, but hadn’t given up entirely. Yet. She woke herself and asked for Colonel Huntley. “What’s taking so long?” she demanded when he showed up in her room. “He hasn’t got much more time. They’re killing him.” “It’s rough terrain. It’s hard to get enough people in position to make an assault. But they’re promising they’ll be ready within the next few hours. Can you keep him alive that long?” “I don’t know. It’s bad. Really bad.” She felt the hot tears trickle down her cheek and didn’t bother to wipe them away. Huntley sighed and came to sit next to her. He offered a handkerchief, which she used to mop up. 70
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“I’m sorry,” he said. “Truly. This is a terrible thing to put you through.” “Worse for Mike,” she pointed out. “True. But he knew what he was risking. I’m not sure you did.” She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll do whatever it takes to save him.” “So will I. That’s why I brought you here.” His expression turned pleading. “Please help him hold on. My guys are getting there as quickly as they possibly can. Please let them find him alive.” “I’ll do my best.” He patted her on the shoulder again. “Thank you.” What would it mean for her if they did find him alive? His regret for their break-up was sincere. Did she want to try again? He’d have to survive for that to happen and she was afraid to let herself hope for it.
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Chapter Five A couple of hours later, she felt Mike rouse. He was so weak he could barely form any coherent thoughts at all. He was alone, but the pain from his various injuries was a fiery cloud all but engulfing him. She hid her dismay. “Mike? You there?” Here. It was faint, with an air of resignation. For now. Not going to last. “Your guys are very close. They should be there any time now. Don’t give up.” He was silent for a moment. Sheila? “I’m here. Want to hear the next thing I learned?” Not yet. My face. It’s not going to be― “As pretty as it was?” she asked. “They’ve damaged your face?” Yeah. “You’ve heard of plastic surgeons? I hear they can do great things. And even if not, do you think I’m that shallow? That I’d care?” You liked the way I looked. Admired…face and body. “True, but I admired the man that animated that face and body even more.” Look like freak. Lot of scars. “Mike, don’t. To me, you’ll always be the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. Nothing, nothing is 72
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going to change that. Now let me tell you about some more possibilities I learned. Of course I’m not going to tell you about the really secret fantasy I’ve had forever.” Secret fantasy? It piqued his interest despite his pain and exhaustion. “Oh, yeah. You’ll love it. But you have to stay alive. I’m only going to tell you in person.” Try. “Good. Meanwhile, I have some other ideas. I think you’ll like this one.” **** We hadn’t gotten to the hot oil thing. It’s not really hot, just nicely warm. I’ve got this kit that includes a couple of bottles of oil and a candlewarmer that keeps it at the perfect temperature. It comes in different aromas. You like spicy or floral? Spicy. Good. Me too. Sandalwood is my favorite. Very sensual. After the shower, we’re kind of lazing around naked on my bed. “Stretch out,” I tell you. You give me one of those what’s up now looks. I try to return it with a mysterious smile, but of course you’ve already seen and smelled the oil. When you straighten out and lay on your back beside me, I tip some of it into my hands. I slather that warm oil all over you, starting at your shoulders and throat and moving down. Every place I can reach with you on your back. Have I told you how much I love the way your body feels 73
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under my hands? How I love the contrasts? The hard places and the soft places, the rough ones and the smooth ones? How I adore the way you get all hard and tense when I touch you? You’re delicious. I want to eat you up. I get to put it on you too? Of course. I turn to get the little cup and pour a bit of the oil into your palm, then lie down so you can spread it over me. The warmth of it soaks into my skin, relaxing and stimulating at the same time, especially with your hard, strong palm spreading it. Love touching you, too. After a while, we’re so slick our hands are sliding all over each. When we come together it’s incredibly smooth and slippery. Our hands slip off each other’s shoulders and back and my breasts glide oddly across your chest. You climb on top of me and almost slide off to the side. We laugh as we struggle to stay together. The oil seems to stimulate the heat between us, and it builds to another explosion. Ready to try it? Absolutely. You’ve got to hold on because that oil is just waiting for us. Along with the jam and the whipped cream, and a few other things. Want to hear another one? No food this time, but I think you’ll like this idea. Go. Okay. We’re in my apartment again, in the living room. We’re sitting on the couch, watching a sexy movie. Very sexy. You can pick your favorite title. 74
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Got one in mind. Good. I don’t know if it has a scene like this, but if it doesn’t, it should. We’re trying to imitate what the people onscreen are doing, but…oh, my…not in front of the window! We’ll do it on the couch. While we’re sitting there watching the show, one of your hands is in my pants, stroking my pussy. The other is on my breast. I reach under your shirt to play with your nipples for a while, then I stroke your erection through your shorts. I unbutton them and push your briefs down to free your cock. I run my hand along it. I’m so hot, so needy for you. All I have to do is touch you to make my pussy swell and begin to throb with desire. The heroine―if that’s the right word―in the movie is now kneeling in front of the hero, who is sitting on a straight-backed chair. You decline the kitchen chair I suggest, preferring to remain on the couch. I don’t really blame you. I get down on my knees on the floor, between your legs, and take off my shirt and bra. It takes a bit of maneuvering to get my breasts resting on your thighs as I lean down to run my tongue up and down your cock. I love it when you jump and moan and wind your fingers in my hair to guide my mouth where you want it. The throb of your shaft against my lips makes my pussy swell even more. Moisture leaks from it. But the woman in the movie has something in 75
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her hand now, and she’s using it to tease her lover. I don’t have a feather duster, but I have one of those soft, fuzzy things like it that you supposedly can dust with and then shake it out. You look surprised when I stand up and walk back to the pantry closet, but your eyes widen and your mouth curves into a grin when you see what I’m holding. I run the lambswool over your belly, your chest, and your nipples. You let out a long sigh of delight as I swish it up and down your abdomen, tickling your belly button, but circling around erect cock. The sigh erupts into a throaty moan when I flick the duster along your shaft. It goes up and down the insides of your thighs and then I tickle your balls with it. You nearly jump up off the couch. You take it from my hand and say, “My turn. But stay there. I like you kneeling in front of me.” Then you can start on me, tickling my breasts with the thing, focusing on the nipples. When it runs down my stomach and along my thighs I’m near to screaming for you. “Undress,” you say. I tear off my pants and undies. You shift to stretch your legs out along the seat of the couch. I climb up beside you and you lift me so that I’m kneeling over you, one knee on either side of your thighs. You reach for your jeans on the floor and find the packet you’ve brought. I take it from you, unwrap it and roll the condom down over your 76
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cock…very slowly…very carefully. Once it’s in place, I run my fingers up and down it a few times to be sure it’s smooth. Then I lift myself up and move forward to position myself right over you. My pussy presses down on your cock but I don’t let you enter right away. Instead I rock back and forth, rubbing my clit against your shaft until I’m on the verge of exploding. I lean forward and reach back behind me to lift your cock until I have it in place at my entrance, and then I lower myself down on it. I go slow, raising myself up again when you try to push in too fast. I want to tease and torment you until you can’t stand it any more. I feel you deep within me and I can squeeze or pull up and push down or rock. I can do whatever I want with you. Your face is below me, so I watch your expression. I love the way your eyes and mouth tighten up as I move over you and take you deep, deep inside. You reach up and cup my breasts in your palms, squeezing gently as you buck beneath me. Your chest heaves, your breath working in and out in harsh pants. Your eyes are narrowed. I try to hold back and take it slow for as long as I can, but after a few minutes, the need is almost drowning me. I let you put your hands on my hips to guide me in matching you and helping lift and lower me in time with your rhythm. It doesn’t take more than five or six bounces before we both explode in huge, jerking spasms 77
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that make the couch rattle. **** “What would you think about doing it against a wall?” Sheila asked. “You supporting me as you slide in and out.” Break my back. “I’ll bet not. Could be fun.” Yeah. Maybe. Want to try. “Me, too. But here’s another idea.” **** We’re in your apartment this time. You have a big four-poster, queen-sized bed―just right for what I have in mind. Don’t have one. Yet. You will. You’re in charge this time. You tell me to, “Undress and lie down.” Good. Time…be in charge. I admit this is a little scary, but it’s also very exciting. I nod, kick off my shoes and get rid of the rest of my clothes before I plop down on the bed. You say, “Stretch out your arms and legs.” I fight a moment of panic when I see the straps in your hand. I trust you, I really do, but this a level of vulnerability I’ve never experienced before. You kiss my forehead and then my lips in reassurance. Still, I know my eyes widen as you wrap the first strip around my wrist, hook it shut, then attach the other end to the bedpost. Excitement bubbles through me as you do the same to my other wrist and each of my ankles until I lay spreadeagled on the bed, unable to move more than a 78
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few inches. I’m nervous about this, but also thrilled by it. I can hardly wait to see what you have in mind. I test the bonds by pulling on them. There’s a certain reassurance in knowing I could yank myself loose if I really wanted to. I don’t think I’ll want to, though. “Is this what you had in mind when you bought this bed?” I ask. You nod, and I add, “I’d like to try it out on you sometime.” You give me this cocky grin that says everything and agrees to nothing. “We’ll see,” you say. “Could happen, but this is my time now.” “Do your worst.” Your grin gets even broader. “That’s for another time too. You get my best today.” “I’m so ready,” I admit. “Good.” You take out a long scarf and wind it around my face, covering my eyes. I’m not sure I like this and say so. You say, “Doesn’t matter. This is my show.” “Oh, right.” It’s strange not to be able to see anything. Scary. I draw in a long breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm myself. I really do trust you, but I’m not sure how I feel about being this helpless. **** You still trust me? Even after…? Sheila jerked out of the fantasy abruptly. “You dumped me?” Yeah. Wasn’t nice. 79
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“Nope, you weren’t, and I was pissed as hell at the time, but now I understand why you did it. I was young and a bit stupid about my talent. I didn’t invade anyone’s mind, but I was cocky about the fact that I could if I wanted to. “I’ve learned a few things, like respecting others’ privacy. You might not think so after the way I’ve barged into your head, though.” Glad you did. Needed this. I was wrong about some things, too. I didn’t trust you then. Now I know I can. Never be anyone else like you for me. More important than anything else. “No kidding. I love you, too, and that’s why you have to stay with me. I’ll never find another one like you.” Trying. Back to distraction. Please. “Yeah. Where were we?” You’re tied to the bed. “Oh right.” **** You say, “I have another surprise for you.” I hear you rummaging around in a bag and the creak of floor boards as you come to stand beside the bed. Something soft brushes across my cheek, down my nose and across my lips. Funny how sounds and sensations seem magnified when I can’t see and have to depend on other senses. I shiver. “What is that?” “Guess.” “Cotton? Feather?” “Right the second time.” 80
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“Oh. Interesting…” The word trails off into a moan as you run the quill down my throat and across my chest. It doesn’t quite tickle, but it leaves these odd tingly sensations on the skin where it passes. Then you run it across my nipples. It makes a faint rasping sound and leaves a delicate line of sparks that pierce deep into me. It trails those prickly nips everywhere it touches when you run it up and down my abdomen. I wriggle as far as my bonds would allow. My pussy swells and creams as those sensations dive deep into my core, heading for my groin. You brush the feather down along my cunt. I jerk and yelp so loudly the neighbors might hear. “Shhh,” you remind me, and you brush a tender, soothing hand along my cheek. Leaving the blindfold in place, you climb onto the bed, and I feel you kneeling between my legs. Your hands stroke my inner thighs, up and down, and rivers of pleasure pour through me. Your tongue replaces your fingers in stroking my thighs, making long, wet licks from above my knee right up into my pussy. It doesn’t take long before I’m writhing so hard I threaten to pull the bed apart. I’m feeling like a building held together by toothpicks, about to crumble into a major explosion. “Not yet,” you tell me. “You’re not allowed to come yet.” “I can’t hold it.” “You have to. “ It’s a struggle to keep from exploding. I want to 81
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come so badly. But I want to obey you as well. It’s a gift I want to give you. You don’t make it easy as you continue to lick my clit and reach up to tweak my nipples, only pausing for a moment or two when you sense I’m at my limit. You wait a few minutes, letting me cool down before your begin again. Your mouth is on my nipples and you bite down. Carefully. Hard enough to hurt just a little, but not too much. I understand what they mean about ‘hurts so good’ now. It’s like little explosions go off inside me each time your teeth squeeze my nipple. They start as pain, but then turn into the most fantastic feeling. Like stars dancing inside me. You stop just as I’m at the verge and blow softly across those same abused nipples. I almost have an orgasm just from that. But I remember you told me to wait until you say I can. It’s not easy to hold it back. You start that teasing licking again. Nipples to thighs to pussy. Stop at my belly button and swirl your tongue around it. By then I’m writhing so hard the bed is rattling and I’m sure I’ll pull it apart. Each time you stop and resume, it makes me hotter, higher, tenser, more needy the next time. How can my sanity survive this? I’m going mad. I’m going to explode into a million pieces if you don’t let me come soon. Your tongue laps up and down my pussy. You draw my clit into your mouth and suckle it. I’m squealing, screaming, begging to come. I’ve got to 82
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come, I’ve got to, I can’t hold it any longer, Please let me come… It seems like forever before you say, “You can come now.” Seconds later the eruption happens and I feel like I am blown right out of my skin, rocketed into the ether somewhere, ablaze with the stars. Holy heaven above… Because the jerking aftershocks are still crashing through me, I’m barely aware of you releasing the straps, but the revelation of sight when you remove the scarf covering my eyes is a joy in itself. Your face is there above me and it’s the sight I most treasure in my heart. You lie beside me and hold me for a while as my breathing gradually calms and the spasms wear themselves out. I want to be part of you. Forever. Still? Yes. After a while I rouse. But we’re not done, of course. You’ve still got a straining erection. I feel it poking into me when we kiss again. I reach down and rub my hands along it, but after a few swipes you stop me. “I don’t plan to come in your hand,” you tell me. “Get up on your hands and knees.” I roll over and get up as you direct. You get behind me and kneel with your cock pressed into the crack of my ass. You fumble with the condom and get it rolled on before the shaft probes for my slit. After a moment, it finds the opening and slides in. It feels different from this angle. Exciting. 83
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Your balls slap against me as you press inside. You pause and lean forward so your chest is against my back and reach around to cup my breasts. Why do the tips feel more sensitive when they’re hanging down like this? After the way I’d just come, I wouldn’t have thought I could get aroused again so quickly, but the pleasures of this position work on me and the pressure begins to gather in my pussy. You rub my breasts a few more times before you lean back to withdraw and then slam into me again. A jolt of pure, electric pleasure strikes deep. I’m starting to pant and groan as the pressure builds, need rises, and the explosive heat gathers. Frustration rouses when you pause again, but your fingers explore around the area where you cock is inside. You touch my clit and it’s almost unbearable, but you don’t linger there. Tracing circles around your cock, your fingers glide across my anus. I shiver as a different sensation adds its own sort of heat. I reach back between my legs, find your balls and massage them. The soft, vulnerable, dual pouches fill my palm and feel like a responsibility as well as a joy. As you begin to pump harder and faster, I find myself gently slapping them in time with your rhythm. Your loud groan tells me it increases your pleasure. I’m so hot I’m about to explode again and each thump of your cock hits that place inside that makes me jerk and spasm. God, it feels so good. I 84
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love the way you fill me, the tender way you hold me, even this rough way of taking me, giving me everything you’ve got. The urgency increases as you near your climax. The bed squeaks and groans and thumps as you pound away at me, your cock pistoning in and out. You pant and moan and I’m begging for more, raising my bottom to give you a better angle, to take you deeper yet. Finally it overwhelms us both. A dam bursts. You roar with the intensity of your orgasm and I shake like a streamer on a fan. The spasms rock each of us for a time. When you finally withdraw, we collapse together in a crumpled tangle of limbs and giggle like children as we try to untangle ourselves. **** Good ones. Want to try…all of them. He struggled to shut away the pain and the weakness in another part of his mind, so she wouldn’t know about it. I want―Coming again. She didn’t have to ask who. Don’t think I can-“Don’t say that. Don’t you dare give up on me, Michael Caldwell. We have a future to work out.” Nothing came from him for a moment. Try. The word barely made it into a coherent thought. The next came even harder. Help me. Please.
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Chapter Six Hopeless anguish gushed from him in an agonizing tide. The will to go on was failing. That plea for help cost him most of his pride. “Whatever I can do.” Tell…more. “Yes.” She had to do more than just distract him, though, if he was going to make it. He couldn’t take much more. His heartbeat was weakening and the pain of his injuries all but drowned him. Was there any way she could shift some of that to herself, to lighten the burden on his depleted body? The injuries were his, but could she somehow take some of that exhausting pain from him? She’d never tried anything like this before, but need drove her to make the attempt. It took a moment to reach deep into another, more primitive, part of his mind, a part below thought and behind emotions. It felt like a journey through a strange mystic jungle, guided only by the fiery signature of the pain to lead her to the place where he experienced it. Her destination blazed with the reports of thousands of nerves competing for attention to their messages of cuts, burns, bruises and more. Those poured into the cavity that was the pain86
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center and piled up as more came in behind it. Already the heap of pain messages spilled over into every nearby space. No wonder he could scarcely bear it. She reached out to touch, to connect with a few of those channels, hoping she could endure the result if she succeeded. Her mental finger slipped before it made contact, but she tried again. On the third attempt she finally linked to a large bundle of nerves and began to divert the signals to herself. The shock almost broke the connection she worked so hard to establish. Nerve-destroying pain exploded in her, turning her being in a drowning frenzy of anguish. Fire blazed along every nerve of her own body, not the pleasant, sexual kind, but an abrading, fleshraking, scream-inducing burn that threatened to bury her in its rage. What happened? Not as…bad. “I worked a bit of mind-reader magic.” Oh. Helps. Dear God. How had he borne this for as long as he had? And she hadn’t taken anywhere near all of it. She knew she couldn’t, not and continue to keep him distracted. Push it to the back of her mind. Try to hide it from herself. God help her. How did he do it? “Have you ever played with toys?” Mentally, she gritted her teeth against the agony. Huntley better get his guys there fast. She wasn’t sure she could tolerate this for very long. Sex toys? Vibrator? For girls. 87
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“Not necessarily. You should see some of the things I’ve seen on the Internet. I wonder how you’d like to try a cock sheath?” What’s…that? “This leather thing that encases your cock. You wrap it around and it either snaps or laces up. We’d have to get a large size for you. Not sure what the point of it is, but it seems to be good for some guys. Then there are these things that go around the tops of your balls to stretch them out, too.” Ouch! “Yeah. Probably not for you. There are rings that go around the base of your cock to keep it erect. I want to try that some time. And have you ever seen a bondage sling? That actually looks like fun. Maybe a bit weird, but fun. And there’s all sorts of restraints and cuffs and things like that to try.” Fun. It was a bare thread of thought. “Hold on. I’ve got another idea I think you’ll like.” **** For this we move one of the backless barstools that normally sit at the island separating kitchen from the dining area into your bedroom. You say, “Undress for me. Slowly.” I open the top button of my Henley shirt, working it out of its slot slowly and deliberately, rubbing around the smooth surface with a fingertip. You smile, recognizing the tease. I do the same with each button, then roll the fabric gradually up 88
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my chest before dragging it over my head. I unhook my bra and let it slide down my arms. Instead of dropping it, though, I wave it around in the air and then let it fly. It crosses the space between us and slaps against your chest. My shoes describe a graceful arc as they sail across the room, but I take my time with the jeans, slowly lowering them to reveal the silk panties beneath. I inch the jeans down my legs to give you time to appreciate my newly shaven and thoroughly moisturized thighs. I’ve made a special run to an expensive lingerie store for the panties. They’re a partly see-through confection of silk, decorated with heart-shaped cutouts and pink lace. After stepping out of the jeans, I do an impromptu belly-dance with just the panties on. I took a few lessons once, but I’m still not very good at it. If enthusiasm counts, though, I do okay. Enthusiasm’s…good. Want…see this. Good. Hold on and you will. Sparkling lights play in your eyes as you watch. The gleam of desire and lust ignites my desire. As I watch you, though, I realize there’s a whole lot more to my feelings than just that. There’s so much I enjoy doing with you beyond sex, and so many things I admire and love about you. Your strength and courage in tense, difficult situations like this. Your integrity and honor, your intelligence, wit, and your sense of humor are all wonderful. You listened to me and helped where you could when I had problems. 89
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Lots about you…I appreciate. Later. I― Yes, later. Sorry, I got sidetracked. Anyway… I’m still doing the belly-dance, shaking what I’ve got. Not much, in truth, but I shimmy it for all I’m worth. I finish off the routine by sliding the panties slowly down my legs, stepping out, picking them up and rubbing them your cheek, throat and mouth with the silky fabric. “My clothes.” You make it an order. I snap the button on your pants and open the zipper, but I don’t pull them down. Instead I take hold of the elastic of your briefs and push my panties down into the gap between your briefs and your abdomen. They bunch around your hardening cock. You look up at me with mock annoyance. “Over the stool.” You use your most harshly domineering tone. I shiver with a mix of excitement and fear. Basically, though, I love this masterful version of you. I lean over the stool, put my hands on it and wrap my fingers around the edges of the seat. The position forces my bottom up and out. That makes me feel thrillingly open for you and at your mercy, vulnerable to whatever you want to do. It’s a little scary and a little embarrassing too, but that adds to the excitement. The anticipation increases when you come up behind me and press the panty-stuffed crotch of your jeans into my buttocks. You cup my breasts with your fingers, playing with the tips, circling, stroking and squeezing. Ripples of pleasure shoot through me. Those turn to shards of vibrant mixed 90
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pain and pleasure when you pinch them harder― **** Sudden, drastic agony yanked her out of the fantasy she created for Mike. Brutal pain swept in a huge, horrible, unbearable tide all through her body. She twisted and screamed, desperate to find a way to cope with the slashes that sizzled her skin in too many places to count, the all-over ache of bruises on bruises. A hand shook her. Consciousness landed on her like a weight, disorienting. For a moment she couldn’t draw enough air into her lungs, until she looked around and recognized the inside of the tent. Pain faded as the connection to Mike broke. “Hold on, please, just a little longer.” Colonel Huntley stood over her, pleading with her, just as she had with Mike. “We’re there. We just need to secure the area.” “You’re sure?” “It’s the place.” “Let me get back to him.” He nodded. She leaned back and let herself fade into the head-space to connect with him again. The pain waited, too. She forced herself to reach for it and channel as much of it as she thought she could bear onto herself. Agony attacked her in savage, ghastly waves. Fire sizzled over her skin and clawed at her insides. She struggled to push down and ignore it. She had to focus on… “Mike?” Here. It was so faint. He was only just barely 91
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alive. “Stay with me. Your guys are there to get you. They’re securing the area now.” Hear…shots. “That will be them. Stay with me.” Can’t stay. Tired. “No! Don’t fade out on me. Don’t you want to know what’s going to happen while I’m leaning over the stool?” A long pause ensued. Panic twisted her stomach into even tighter knots. “Mike! Are you there?” Yes. **** Let’s see… Where was I? Oh, right. Your pantystuffed crotch is pushing against my bottom. The rough edge of the jeans flap brushes over my labia. That feels weird, but good. I want more, and I wriggle my bottom to get it. Each rasp of the fabric sends delightful shocks of heat surging through me. You step back, breaking the contact and say, “Oh, no. This is my show this time. I think you’ve earned some punishment for that.” You go to your dresser, open a drawer and pull something out, but you hold it so I can’t see what you’ve got. You come back and say, “Turn around and look down. Not at me.” My curiosity, tinged with a bit of fear, is running wild now. I do as you order and turn my gaze toward the stool’s seat. The cool feel of a cream or gel comes as a surprise when you smear it over my anus. It’s a 92
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strange feeling, not entirely safe or comfortable, and it makes me squirm. “Hold still.” You smack my left butt-cheek with the flat of your hand, not hard, but it stings in an exciting way. I draw a deep breath. “Strong man tactics.” “If that’s what it takes.” “Puts me in the submissive mood,” I admit. “That’s the idea. Now be quiet and stay still.” It gets hard to follow either order when you press something cool and hard against that back opening. My muscles tense and tighten in protest. Still, you persist and wiggle the thing back and forth, pushing gently until it starts to slide in. It stretches me and stings a bit as it enters. It no longer stings once it’s settled in place, but it fills me in a way that isn’t entirely comfortable. You leave the room and I hear water running. Your fingers are still damp when you return and droplets sprinkle me as you part my labia and stroke my pussy. You pause and there’s more of the cool cream on your fingers when you touch my clit. As always, it sends whiplashes of heat and pleasure slicing through me. Heat screams through my veins and all my muscles go tight. Moisture oozes from me, mixing with the cream. I’m so hot and slick and ready for you when you push down your jeans far enough to free your cock and quickly slide on a condom. You brace yourself with your hands on my sides as your shaft slides home inside me. The fullness of having both passages occupied 93
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is another new and different kind of turn-on. It makes the pressure inside me rise like a spring wound tight and then twisted another turn. Stuffed with you, surrounded by the feel and strength of you, wrapped in the smell of you, I let myself sink into the joy of being part of you. You set the rhythm for both of us, let the tide of need rise in a series of thumps and jerks. Each time you press in, you wind the internal spring tighter. Our breathing finds matching rhythm in pants that echo each other in speed and intensity. “Please,” I beg with little breath I can spare. “Now. I’m ready!” Ignoring my pleading, you hold back when I want you harder, deeper, faster. Finally, though, you can’t stand it any longer yourself. You draw back, nearly all the way out, hold my shoulders to brace us both and then plunge, ramming yourself in as far and as hard as you can. You come with an almost delirious shout of triumph. At the same time I jerk in a spasm that almost knocks us both over when my internal spring releases in a huge jolt. Lord in heaven. It sends me sailing into a place of pure pleasure. We stay in place that way for a long time, my back to your chest, legs and hips pressed tight. **** “You like that one? You get to be the dominant.” No response. “Mike?” 94
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Sheila had been so caught up in her own fantasy, she hadn’t noticed the pain fading out of her body. Didn’t feel it when he slipped away. She reached out for him, searching frantically for traces of his consciousness. Nothing. No response. Just emptiness where his spirit should be. A great, roaring emptiness that mocked her desperate attempts to lock onto him. “Mike! No! Please.” Despair spread through her like a crushing, smothering cloud. He couldn’t be gone. He couldn’t. They had a future to explore. She reached for him again, struggling to find the spark of Mike.
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Chapter Seven A hand shook her shoulder, but Sheila resisted the pull of it. If she woke, she’d have to give up the search for him, admit he was gone, and confront the reality of a world that no longer contained Mike Caldwell. She didn’t think she could bear that pain. The shaking grew more insistent as someone demanded she wake up, repeating it again and again until she couldn’t resist any longer. She pulled herself up and out of the mind space. No pain seared her nerves or twisted her muscles. No fire burned her skin, only the hot tears that leaked from her eyes. “It’s all right,” a voice said to her. “No.” She turned to look at Colonel Huntley. “It’s not all right. He’s gone. I couldn’t hold him. I tried, but it was too much for him. He’s gone.” “No, he’s not.” She shook her head. “I can’t reach him anymore. He’s not there.” “Only because the medics have him drugged up. They’ve got him, Sheila. He’s in rough shape, but they think he’ll make it.” He smiled and managed a harsh laugh. “Hell, after all we’ve gone through to get him, we’re not about to let him go now.” “You’re not lying to me. Trying to make me 96
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feel better?” He shook his head. “I wouldn’t.” As it started to sink in and she began to believe, the tears came harder and faster, until Huntley handed her a handkerchief. She mopped up and asked, “Is he here?” “The chopper’s due any minute. Are you sure you want to, though? I understand his injuries are…possibly disturbing.” “I know. He warned me.” “If you’re sure.” He stood up and offered her a hand as she rose. She needed it. A wave of dizziness washed over her, but it passed quickly. “Give me a few minutes to clean up,” she asked. “Meet you out there,” the colonel answered. She washed up in record time and made a few quick swipes with a hairbrush. Excitement made her blood fizz while she did it. Mike was alive and she’d be seeing him again soon. He wanted her, wanted to renew their relationship. An attack of nerves drove out the excitement as she put on a quick layer of foundation. Had Mike really meant what he said about wanting to try again? Had that just been a way to keep him distracted from the pain? To keep her telling stories to entertain him? Surely not. The Mike she knew was too honorable to play that kind of game with her. The Mike she’d been telling stories to was a desperate man, however, struggling to keep his country’s secrets. He might think that goal worth a bit of personal deception. 97
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Her nerves stretched tight when the whomping beat of the incoming chopper sounded while she struggled to get on makeup to cover her still puffy eyes. Sheila gave up the attempt, set down the bottle and hurried out to the airfield. Huntley and a crowd of other soldiers had gathered to wait for the helicopter to land. The colonel made a space for her beside him and put an arm around her shoulders when fear made her waver. Mike might have died on the way. He was in such bad shape when they got to him. Her stomach tightened into a hard knot as the chopper took forever to reach the ground. Once it was down, there was an even longer wait before anything more happened. She experienced the most drawn-out ten minutes of her life while they waited. Sheila trusted that Huntley hadn’t lied to her about Mike being alive when they got to him, but that didn’t guarantee he’d survived the trip here. The same thought must have occurred to Huntley. His expression was tense and tightly controlled. Her nerves twisted into raw threads by the time a medic finally climbed out of the helicopter and helped guide the stretcher down and out. She pressed forward with the rest of the group, and was swept back with them when MPs demanded they retreat. But Colonel Huntley took her arm and led her to the front of the crowd, and then past the MPs to the gurney. 98
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The figure that lay there was so swathed in bandages she wouldn’t have recognized Mike if she hadn’t known it was him. Sheets covered the bulk of his body. A heavy gauze pad hid the left side of his face, held on by strips that wound around his head. A few strands of black hair flopped free around it. The one visible eye was closed until Huntley asked, “How is he?” The medic nodded down toward the gurney. Mike’s eye twitched open and a muscle pulsed in his grimy cheek. A groove just visible between bandages and the side of his mouth deepened. “Had better days, Sir.” The words were slurred, but distinguishable. Huntley’s grim expression broke into a grin. “You’re going to have quite a few better days now with nothing to do but rest and recover,” the colonel promised. “Before I let them take you away, there’s someone here wants to say hi.” Mike looked around and saw her. For a moment he just stared. Her stomach did flip-flops as she forced her mouth into a smile. He slowly and painfully extracted a bandaged hand from under the sheet to hold it out to her. Sheila went to his side. Careful of his possible injuries she took the hand. She ran the fingers of her other hand along his undamaged cheek. “Mike, I can’t believe… I’m so glad you’re here. At the end I thought you were…gone.” “You made a promise.” The voice was hoarse and rough, the words fuzzy from the effects of the 99
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drugs, but still it was recognizably Mike’s. “You going…keep it?” “I think I made a couple of promises. Which one do you mean?” The corner of his mouth she could see crooked into a near-grin. “All of them. Meant about trying out all those things…” He looked around at the crowd gathered nearby and nodded for her to move closer. She leaned over him and said, “Absolutely. If you still want to.” “Damn right.” His blue eye speared her with a hard look, but he nodded for her to get closer still. He seemed to shake off the drug-induced haze for a moment. “You also promised to tell me something. Your most secret fantasy?” He said it so softly only she could hear. “I did. Did you like those last fantasies? The ones with you on top and me submissive?” She whispered close to his ear. The crease beside his mouth deepened. “Oh, yeah. My favorites.” “Good. My most secret fantasy is an extension of it. I want you to spank me. Hard.” His cheek twitched and the visible side of his face lit up in a smile. “You got it, babe. Want to know my most secret fantasy?” She nodded and all but laid her ear over his mouth to hear him. “You marry me and I spend the rest of my life…loving you. Playing with you. Spanking you if that’s what you want. Acting out your fantasies and mine. What do you say?” 100
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“Is this a proposal?” “Damn straight.” “Then, yes. Of course, yes. I’ve only loved you for years now, you know.” His expression grew more serious. “I know. It was my problem kept us apart. But I’ve learned a few things.” “It wasn’t just you. We’ve both learned things.” He nodded. “Stay with me now?” “As much as I can. Hard as I worked to keep you alive, I plan to keep a close eye on you.” “Kiss me,” he demanded. She did.
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Katherine Kingston
About the Author Katherine Kingston was born in New York but moved to North Carolina years ago, where she still lives with her husband and children. She has degrees in Anthropology and Computer Science and has worked as an editor for more than ten years. She began writing almost twenty years ago and sold short stories to a variety of publications before her first novel was published in 2001. She likes writing in a variety of genres, from historical to futuristic, from straight-out sexy to highly kinky. Visit Katherine’s online home at http://www.katherinekingston.com/
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Lifeline
Spicy, sensual love stories which leave a reader breathless, intense plots, alpha males, strong heroines and sizzling dialogue—find it all at Whispers! www.whispershome.com For your convenience, all of Whispers’ books are available at Fictionwise, Mobipocket, All Romance e-Books, and Amazon Kindle. Be sure to join our newsletter for up-to-date news from your favorite authors, contests, giveaways, upcoming releases, and more! To join, send a blank e-mail to:
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