Beyond the Storm (9780758276995) (25 page)

That was where a woman named Venture lived.

For it was his name etched on the stone that she saw.
Aidan Barton. August 19th.

 

The transformation was nearly complete.

Deep inside Vanessa's imagination, she could see that Venture Mercer had come back to life, her willowy self miraculously, improbably, floating amidst the cool breeze of night just as moonlight streaked across the violet dress. Vanessa stood before the reflection in the window of the cupola, knowing that what looked back at her was someone beyond herself. Wearing the dress, surrounded by the love letters Aidan had written to Venture still strewn about the floor, Vanessa realized she had unlocked a portion of her trapped soul, knowing at last that she had found what she was looking for . . . whom she was looking for. And he was waiting downstairs for her.

So what was she waiting for?

Looking deep into her reflection, her mind swam with memories. At the corners of her eyes were the lines of a life lived with zeal and with passion, but also tinged by sadness and tragedy. She'd seen it all, she liked to think, and most importantly she'd survived it all. Now, the next stage of her life awaited her in a bedroom that wasn't theirs except for tonight—and for now tonight was all that mattered. Though they had shared their bodies earlier in the day, she was nervous thinking about being with Adam. Because this time they had left all their worries, their secrets, behind them, tucked into a past that finally felt settled. What they had uncovered inside this cupola, amidst all those unread letters, was the notion of faith. You had to take a leap and have faith that life would work out as you wanted. As it was supposed to.

Running fingers through her thick, dark hair, she watched as the locks fell back against the nape of her neck. She imagined his touch, the way his lips had felt on her skin, the tingling sensation that ripped through her body. She wanted nothing more than to feel him again, to touch him and caress him, reach for him and feel the heat of his body against her. So why then was she still upstairs? Was she avoiding him, or herself, or simply what making love would mean to their future?

“Vanessa, you okay up there?” she heard from the base of the stairs.

“Sorry, yeah . . . just, you know . . . girl stuff.”

Enough stalling. Enough thinking.

With one last glance at her face in the window, she willed away her fears and then went to leave. A vision again from outside caught her attention, and her eyes widened, searching for what had attracted her attention. But she saw nothing, just the rustling of trees from the wind. Seemed like the storm was gearing up for another go at them. As she stepped toward the stairs, she doused the candle by which they had read Aidan's letters, and then she spoke a silent thank-you. To Aidan and to Venture, their enduring love a message for all. What she could have with Adam was what they had lost, and she was determined, if nothing else, to honor them.

She emerged downstairs into a glow emanating out of the darkness. She found several other candles lit, the light from their flames flickering against the wall, creating moving shadows of light and dark. Smiling at the lovely setting before her, she padded down the hallway and into the far bedroom, coming to the edge of the bed, where she found Adam already settled, waiting. Leaning against a mass of soft pillows, his bare, muscular body partially covered by sheets, he looked so handsome and sexy, yet boyish at the same time thanks to his grin, caught by candlelight. A mix of that insecure kid she'd known back in high school and the confident man she'd met in New York.

“Wow, the dress,” he said, speaking softly. “As though it was made for you.”

“It's not . . . weird?”

“It's perfect. Just as Aidan treasured it, so too do I.”

He leaned over to take her hands into his. He drew her nearer to him, she climbing onto the bed beside him. His hand reached up, slipping Venture's dress off her shoulders, exposing them bare. She felt a chill rip through her body, then felt a contrasting heat as his hand encircled her breast, one then the other. She arched her neck, felt his fingers dance up her skin, her neck, touching her lips. She took them in her mouth, suckled them, tasting him. He pulled her closer to the point where their lips met; a hot kiss sizzled between them. Her cheeks he cupped with his hands as her own fingers slid up, then down his arms, toying with the hair coating his forearms. The scratch of his beard awakened dizzying sensations beneath her skin.

“Adam, the way you touch me . . .”

He kissed her more intently, and she responded in kind, pressing him down against the softness of the mattress. Her body atop his, she sought out his neck, the lobe of one ear then the other. She could feel him beneath the blanket, and her wandering actions served to feed their passion. Kissing the scruff on his neck, she wandered down further, her tongue tasting the salty sweat that lived within his thicket of chest hair. She encircled his nipples, one with her tongue, another with her finger, squeezing, teasing him. He pulled her even closer, his arms encircling her body to the point where they were indistinguishable. His strong, hairy body sending tingling charges over her soft skin.

“Adam . . . Aidan, take me.”

“Vanessa . . . Venture . . . we are together, soon to be embraced as one.”

Vanessa slid further down against him, pressing against his hard body. With a free hand she suddenly, quickly guided him inside her, with penetrating tingles rippling through her body. She let out a hearty breath, only to breathe in some needed air as he entered her further. All the time she watched him and he watched her, their expressions locked, serious, intense. At last he filled her, and she began to move, up then down, up then down, while sitting atop him. She gasped aloud as pleasurable sensations danced around inside her. She stroked his chest, teased his nipples. The feel of him inside her was magnificent, hitting all the right sensations within her. Suddenly a small wave of orgasm swarmed through her body. She kept up her motions, giving in to another wave of pleasure, then another, letting them wash over her like the currents of the ocean, gaining strength, impacting against the shore with a resounding crash.

“Adam, Adam . . . don't stop, oh, don't . . .”

She felt him push more, deeper, just as strong hands encircled her breasts. Her eyes closed and she gave herself to the moment, enjoying how and where he touched her, all the while continuing to ride atop him, waiting, wanting . . . desiring his inevitable climax. Her motions increased, she again gasped as he thrust, as he grunted. Theirs was a rhythmic dance that had found its syncopation, and they moved with their own music, just as they had on the porch earlier this night, sounds found only between hearts finding a common beat.

Neither knew how long they lasted, mostly because they had learned time meant nothing, even more so now. Vanessa continued to indulge passion she hadn't felt for too long, and from Adam's energy, his heat, his stamina, she recognized a man with whom she could share her innermost desires, fears. As Venture must have with Aidan, how else could they have forged a bond that defied the boundaries of time? As Adam rolled and thrust, as Vanessa touched and caressed, as they made love in a room lit by candles and moonlight, the past that had threatened to undo them became just that, a past relegated to a place where it could no longer do harm. They knew that even lovers from yesteryear had a future. With his kiss, she felt her old self melt away; with his eager thrusts, she sensed an awakening of a new kind was happening; with each ripple that swept over her body, she longed for one more, another, more and more. She was greedy, and he was giving. She wanted to feel his climax, and he was more than ready.