Born Again (2 page)

Just then, someone stepped around the corner.

This was obviously the day for rich, hunky men. Sara had
never before met Beauregard Pierson but she definitely saw what Mike lusted
after.

Blond, tanned and heavily muscled. Pale blue eyes that for
some reason reminded her of the pale green of Aric Ishee that she’d just met.
Beau wore sweatpants and nothing else and there was an honest-to-goodness six-pack
instead of abs.

His blue eyes sharpened with interest.

“You’re not Mike,” he pointed out.

“No. I’m—”

“Sara.”

Both were startled by his answer. How had he known?

He smiled gently. “You’re the newest employee there. The
only one I haven’t yet met.”

He took the bags from her and brushed the bare skin of her
arm with his. Electric awareness tingled from the contact and her breathing
deepened while her blood pumped faster.

“In here,” he instructed, leading the way. Obviously he didn’t
have the same feeling she was having trouble recovering from.

Beauregard Pierson couldn’t seem to stop his heart from
jumping. It was Seraphina. Just like the old witch had said, he’d recognize her
anywhere. She’d be born every lifetime with that deep red hair, the milk-white
creamy complexion perfectly foiled by the penetrating brown eyes.

He had found her. Before Aric. He knew it was her and even
though he remembered her with another body, the similarities were there. He
looked forward to exploring this body, her scent, her curves. He wanted to know
what made her gasp, arch, plead.

And what would send her hurtling over the edge.

Beau set the bags on the table and turned to face her. “Please
stay for dinner.”

She seemed stunned into silence for a moment, shocked at the
abruptness of his request. Almost as if she didn’t get asked out very often. That
was hard to believe—she was just as beautiful now as she had been before.

“I have other plans,” she said.

His heart raced as if consumed with jealousy, but he forced
a smile. Then his expression cleared as he reached out, because he simply
couldn’t help himself. His thumb touched gently along the path of her jaw line,
curving up to the prominent cheekbones. Lightly he caressed the cream of her
skin, feeling the silky softness beneath his finger.

“A rain check?” he asked.

Sara nodded, just once, seeming bemused by his touch on her
cheek. He understood exactly. He wanted the touch as much as she.

Her small pink tongue snaked out to wet her lips. Beau watched,
mesmerized.

His hand rested on the back of her neck, his thumb still
stretched out and stroking along her jaw. Would she run if he pulled her to
him? If he gently twined that pink tongue with his?

She hadn’t protested yet. He took that as encouragement and
gave a small, gentle tug. She didn’t resist, but stepped closer, briefly
unbalanced.

Her hands splayed out, bracing herself against his naked
chest. His muscles twitched beneath her fingers, eagerly expecting more. His
eyes were locked on hers, watching, waiting. Wanting.

He dipped his head and deftly pressed his lips to hers. Sensation
exploded.

He opened his mouth at the same time she did, as if to gasp
for air and their tongues met, rubbing velvety strokes, giving and taking a
pleasure so intense it was almost pain.

He groaned at the sweetness of her mouth and she gasped in
surprise at his. He tasted…familiar. She knew how to kiss him, knew what he
liked.

She also knew the pleasure he was capable of bringing her. That
was a benefit of being psychic.

Sara was the one to take the next step. Breaking the kiss,
she lowered her lips to his nipple, making him arch slightly as she gently
scraped her teeth over him. Her fingers pressed against his abdomen, making him
suck in his breath. Did he wonder how low she’d go this first time?

She raised her face for more kisses and he ground his mouth
to hers, exploring her fully and letting her know how demanding he could be. He
pulled her up against him, as if wanting her to feel the need that bulged
between them.

It didn’t scare her. Instead, the small, eager fingers
dipped into the waistband of his sweats and sought the hard muscle beneath.

He thought he’d die from the sheer pleasure of it when her
hand enclosed him fully. Then she stroked, slowly, as if memorizing the feel of
the silky skin over the tempting hardness that would stroke every nerve deep
inside her. Her touch encouraged him to grow harder still, so hard he thought
he’d explode.

He tongued the small lobe of her ear and pulled his own
sweats down far enough to watch her stroke his body. He stood proud and erect,
tiny droplets of moisture on the head.

“Ohmigod,” she whispered. “I don’t even know you.”

“You have my name, address and phone number, Angel. And you’re
about to get to know me real well.”

He picked her up. She was tiny and weighed nearly nothing. He
bounded up the stairs quickly with her, looking hungrily into her eyes, not
about to let her back out. Not now. It was too late.

The master bedroom was at the top of the stairs, with his
bed the size of most people’s entire bedrooms. He laid her upon it gently and
then deftly began unbuttoning her blouse.

Sara never broke eye contact with him, watching even when he
separated the two halves of her blouse and stared at the lush bounty before
him.

With shaking hands, he unclasped the front of her bra and
cupped the weight of a breast in his palm. Pale skin tipped with pink. Strawberries
and cream and he dipped his head. A hot, wet tongue swept across her
pebble-hard nipple.

He took it into his mouth. He suckled at the tip of her
breast. The pull rooted itself deep in her groin, extending out and up through
the heat of his mouth.

“The other one, too,” she said, while caressing his
well-shaped head.
Geez
,
she was shameless
. She didn’t know why
she was allowing herself to act this way, to be so brazen, for it wasn’t like
her at all. But her body, her desires, her needs, had taken on a life of their
own with this man.

He released her breast and turned his attention to its twin.
The same, lavish licking hardened the pink nub and then he sucked it into his
mouth.

“Oh God, you feel good,” she moaned. “I can’t believe I’m
having sex with you.”

“Believe it, baby,” he rasped against her breast, his breath
blowing over her wet skin and then began kissing a trail down the center of her
body to her navel.

His tongue lightly encircled her belly button. The flat
abdomen below it quivered ever so slightly.

In one fell swoop, he pulled her jeans off her body, taking
her panties with them. Spreading her thighs, he stared at the view splayed out
before him.

She was luscious.

Curvaceous hips and a tiny waist, smooth sleek skin and
golden red hair. Just as before.

“I can’t tell you how much I want you,” he muttered
hoarsely.

He stared at the tuft of light hair that furred her
delights. A tiny, neat landing strip that aimed down between her legs, hiding
her cleft from his gaze.

“Bend your knees,” he rasped.

Sara obeyed and it opened her to his view.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, reaching out and running a
finger along her sensitive slit.

She shivered, her breasts heaving. She was hot and wet and
ready to jump him if he didn’t hurry.

He brought that finger moist with nectar up to his lips and
sucked it as she watched, her eyes darkening.

Then he inserted it into her opening and she moaned, the
warmth from his mouth still on his finger deep inside her.

She was so hot she thought she’d explode. “Please,” she
begged.

“What is it, Sara? What is it you want?” he asked as he
grabbed a condom from the bedside table. Tearing the packet open, he rolled it
on, never hesitating in the intimate act.

She half sat and pushed him down onto the bed. She rolled on
top of him, grinding her body intimately against his. His hands were busy
squeezing the globes of her buttocks and she knew she was too close to the
edge. Grabbing his hands, she brought them up over his head, locking their arms
up and pressed her breasts to his magnificent chest, echoing the movements of
the woman in her psychic dream.

His blue eyes flashed amber when she pushed his hands up,
but the look was gone when she lowered her mouth to his.

Why the sudden, out-of-character aggression for her? Sara
thought. She must have still been hot from the psychic episode. That was it. That
was why she mimicked the position from her mind tryst. But the sensations that
she was feeling with Beau were so similar to the ones with the stranger in her
dreams.

It didn’t take much of a pelvic tilt to lock him into her
body. And it didn’t take any thrusting to make her moan as her body climaxed
around his wide, thick girth.

She was dimly aware of his orgasm as he thrust upward just
once and came with a groan. Then her quivering flesh gripped his tightly,
soothing him while he recovered.

She released his arms and he wrapped them around her,
holding her close and then caressing her lightly.

“That was incredible,” he said, stroking her back with
soothing, long strokes. “If a little quick. Next time we’ll go slower.”

“Wasn’t bad at all,” she agreed. Now that the lust was
sated, she was beginning to feel a little uncomfortable lying in the afterglow
with a stranger, even one as stunning as Beau.

“When will I see you again?” he asked.

“I, uh, I don’t know. I have plans tonight and I work
tomorrow afternoon.”

“How about dinner tomorrow, Sara? We can talk, get to know
each other.”

She raised her head to look into his blue eyes. He seemed
sincere, but if he was just after sex, it was her own fault. “Okay, that would
be good.”

She looked down at her watch and jumped up from the bed.

Grabbing her jeans, she jumped into them as he watched. “I
have to go. I’m still on the clock.”

She buttoned her blouse, hurriedly and then hopped around
until she found her left shoe.

Beau rose from the tumbled bedsheets, casually removing his
condom with heavy-lidded eyes.

He grabbed the back of her neck and brought her to him, then
kissed her very gently.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said.

She gave a shy smile and he pulled his sweats back on to
walk her downstairs.

She realized that she’d had an actual, real nooner at lunch
and still had to return to work.

“Sara, you look lovely,” Aric said.

He bent and kissed her cheek. His nostrils flared ever so
slightly. He caught a whiff of…Beauregard. It couldn’t be, not that bastard.

He’d found Sara in the span of a few hours since Aric had
seen her last.

“Have a good day at work?” he inquired lightly.

Sara blushed, a telltale giveaway.

“Fine. Not a big deal,” she said, but her eyes belied her
words.

Aric sniffed a bit deeper, discreetly. Sara took a step
back, as if appalled. He smiled easily, until she returned the smile on her
own.

He’d smelled what he was searching for. The scent of body
fluids.

Jealousy ripped through his soul. Red-hot rage filled his
face before it was masked for her benefit. He turned a perfectly normal
expression to her, his voice evenly toned if a bit chilled.

“Please, come into the music room and meet my friends
Raphael and Francesca.”

Aric took her arm and they walked through the high-ceilinged
hallways. Expensive curtains hung from the windows and the floors were polished
marble, so shiny it reflected their footsteps.

He leaned in to whisper in her ear confidingly. “The story
is, you and I have been dating for about six months. You’re crazy in love with
me.”

“I am?”

“Naturally,” he said, allowing one eyebrow to rise
majestically.

Sara relaxed against him and allowed herself to be led into
the next room.

“Rafe. Francesca. This is Sara.”

Both people in the room stood, their faces eerily intent. On
her. As if they hardly breathed while they studied her.

Sara never felt so awkward in her life. Just what had Aric
told them about her? She dipped her head, trying to break the heavy silence. “How
do you do?”

For a brief moment, no one answered her. Then the woman
spoke first. She stood and looked nearly regal as she did so. Her coloring was
strange, pale features framed by black hair in lush waves and deep blue eyes. They
looked haunted and deeply pained as they stared at her, as if the woman had
longed to be introduced to a girlfriend of Aric’s.

“You are absolutely gorgeous,” Francesca said at last.

Taken aback, Sara responded with her first instinctual
thought. The truth. “As are you.”

The comment seemed to please the woman and her eyes lost
some of the shadows they carried.

Raphael stepped toward Sara, so she offered her hand. He
turned it palm up so that her wrist was exposed. His touch was warm and she was
suddenly aware of her own blood that rushed beneath the thin skinned surface. He
slowly bent and kissed her wrist and a little jolt of awareness pushed through
her body. It tightened things low and intimate inside her and she fought to
control her breath.

It was quick, almost as if it never happened.

He hovered over her wrist. His hair was a deep blue-black,
the perfect match with Francesca. He was a very striking man, his light olive
skin tone contrasting with white teeth and piercing onyx eyes.

“Sara, it is my pleasure. I feel as if we know you already,”
he said, frowning at Francesca as if she didn’t do enough to put Sara at ease.

Francesca looked guilty, before she looked downward, hiding
the emotion in her eyes.

The oddest feeling hit Sara in the gut. A tender, make-everything-better
feeling she’d never felt before. She took a step toward the gorgeous woman and
touched her arm, making her look up.

Sara smiled unreservedly at her, her only intent to see the
lovely blue eyes sparkle as they should. Francesca gave her a wobbly smile in
return, before Aric interrupted huskily with the news that dinner was prepared.

They adjourned to the dining room and Sara fought to not
stare at the opulence of the room. Much like Beauregard Pierson’s home, Aric
tended to favor antiques. Expensive crystal cut glassware and real silverware
adorned the table.

Once Raphael and Francesca finally stopped staring, it was
actually a pleasant meal.

“You prepared this yourself?” Francesca asked Aric,
disbelief in her sultry voice.

Aric looked intimately at Sara. “Sara helped,” he said, as
if speaking to only her.

He was so handsome with his dark hair and pale green eyes,
the sexy stubble on his jaw adding a carefree look. She could easily fall for
him.

Trying to distract herself, she posed another question to
Raphael and Francesca. “Where do you two live?”

“Right now we live in Romania, but we visit with Aric for a
month three or four times a year. Sometimes it feels as if we live here.”

“Your English is very good. Just a trace of an accent.”

“Thank you. We’ve studied English for many, many years. We
love going to the theaters and ballets, practicing and perfecting it as much as
we can. So how about you? Where did you grow up?”

“I just moved here last fall.” Sara shrugged.

“No family? Friends?” Francesca asked.

“I’m a loner. No siblings, my parents passed on years ago. And
I have no really close friends.”

“Why not?”

“Like I said, I’m a loner.” Sara could have told them she
was an outcast because of her psychic abilities. She could have told them she
avoided romantic relationships because she tended to attract or breed violence
in men, but she really enjoyed the couple. She didn’t want to make them
immediately wary of her.

“Well, we shall have to be your friends, then,” Raphael
said, as he caressed Francesca’s hands.

“I’d like that,” Sara murmured.

“It seems a shame to cut this evening short, but we have
tickets tonight to the theater,” Francesca said, with a quick glance at her
watch, “so we should get moving. Never have I been so ready to forego plans,
Sara.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Sara said, “but no way will you skip out
on your scheduled evening.”

“Perhaps we can get together again during this month?”
Francesca asked, looking to Aric.

“I’m sure we can arrange something,” Aric said smoothly.

They rose and Sara and Aric escorted the couple to the front
door.

Francesca kissed Aric lightly on the lips and turned to
Sara. Gently, the other woman kissed her cheek and told her she was glad Aric
found her.

Although it was a normal comment, especially since Francesca
thought they were a couple, Sara found it a little bit odd. As though there was
more to it than what she heard. It was the weird psychic sensing, sometimes she
couldn’t control it.

Raphael took her hand and kissed it. Once again Sara found a
sizzle rushing through her bloodstream. It was different this time, though. This
time, it was clearly defined as desire. Hot and heavy liquid heat hit her
middle and lowered, melting her core.

He looked up at her, eyes soft and stunned amazement hit
Sara’s midsection.

He knew.

She stared at him while they made their goodbyes. The front
door closed behind them and Aric smiled. “That went well. I think I satisfied
them for a bit.”

Sara returned his smile. “I’ll help you clean up.”

“You don’t have to. Come sit with me, let me enjoy you
before I return you to your home.”

He pulled gently on her hand and walked her to the sitting
room. She sat on the loveseat, expecting him to take the chair across from her.
Instead, he sat next to her and took her small hand in his. Slowly, his thumb
traced circles on her wrist. While it wasn’t the side that Raphael had kissed,
she was surprised to feel warmth begin to tingle once again from that spot. A
magical warmth, invading her veins and running through her extremities.

“Sara, I’d like to see you again.”

“I’d like that too, Aric.”

“Tomorrow lunch?”

She’d had a dinner date with Aric tonight. And she had one
planned with Beau for tomorrow. Did she dare to try to see both men? How could
she feel such a connection to each one of them, when they were so very
different? Did she dare try to juggle both? She simply couldn’t resist seeing
where the dating would take her, so she nodded.

Aric leaned in and brushed her cheek with his lips. She
shivered and he turned his mouth to hers, hovering without touching.

“May I?” His voice was low, his breath warm and sweet.

She nodded, a thrill of anticipation shooting down to her
already excited midsection.

His lips slowly lowered to touch hers. They tempted and
teased, but then turned more erotic when he sucked on her lower lip. She moaned
and then remembered she couldn’t possible sleep with Aric Ishee, no matter how
attracted she was.

Because she’d just slept with Beauregard Pierson at
lunchtime. A total stranger. She’d become a slut in the span of one day.

“Aric, this isn’t a good idea,” she murmured.

“Why not? Don’t you want me? I know I want you.” The man’s
voice curled into her, reaching every erogenous zone she had.

She definitely wanted. But how would she explain that she
was currently sleeping with someone else?

“Sara?” he prompted.

“You know how sexy you are. But it’s too soon for me.”

Aric felt her slipping right through his fingers. He didn’t
have time for this. Not if Beau had claimed her once.

He stared into her gaze. The windows of her soul opened
fully to him and he mentally whispered his thoughts.

Lose your reservations, Seraphina. You want me as badly
as I want you, I know you do. Use me for your pleasure. Come to me, sweet.
Don’t make me wait.

Sara came immediately to him. As he knew she would. Her lips
sought his and he nearly gasped at the unrestrained sensations that were
unleashed with the gentle mental push he gave her. As before, her sweet mouth
drove him wild. Suddenly, he just knew he’d do anything to have her tonight. If
he had to use compulsion on her and erase her memory after, he’d do it.

She felt just like he remembered. He pulled her onto his lap
and she straddled him while he cupped her delicate, heart-shaped buttocks in his
large hands. Her waist was tiny and her breasts were the perfect size and shape
for his desperately seeking mouth.

There was no way for a man of his sensuality to not lose
control. He’d waited too long for her. The temptation of doing what he wanted
and “helping” her to forget afterward was too great.

Take off your clothes for me
, he whispered mentally
and her eyes glazed over.

Small, dainty fingers reached up to unbutton her white
blouse. It seemed like forever before she reached the last button and, his
patience at an end, he reached out and yanked her two halves apart. The last
button gave with a pop and skittered noisily across the polished floor.

She wore a lacy white bra that barely covered her nipples. She
had the most beautiful breasts, perfectly formed and round. Held by the bra,
they pushed up and over, an erotic tease that he couldn’t resist.

He reached out for the front clasp and twisted it open. Her
round globes burst free and he stared at the sight before him. Her nipples as
pink as her lips, looking swollen and sweet, protruding stiffly from the
softness of her breast.

“Would you like me to take one in my mouth?” he asked.

Dazedly, she replied. “Oh, yes, please.”

Quickly, he lifted her from his lap and leaned her back
against the couch. Eagerly, he sucked a whole nipple between his lips. The feel
of it, right there in his mouth, right where it belonged, took every ounce of
control he had to keep his fangs from extending. Instead, they burned as they
fought with his power to burst free and grow. But holding off made the final
culmination so much sweeter.

He opened his mouth further and sucked deeply, taking as
much breast as he could into his mouth. Deep, long pulls had her arching her
back against the sofa, moaning in engaging ecstasy.

“How’s it feel, sweet?” he asked.

“Oh God, Aric, it’s wonderful.” Her voice was breathless and
he wanted to give her even more pleasure.

He allowed the breast to pop free of his mouth and then
lavishly licked the tip, over and over, long, deliciously wet licks.

She grabbed the back of his head and pressed him to her
other breast.

He licked the twin, both nipples wet and swollen and pebble-hard.

Gingerly, he cupped both breasts, lifting them so he could
trace his tongue along the crease underneath them. Her breathing was heavy,
coming in pants and making her chest rise and fall dramatically with each inhalation
and exhalation.

He licked his way to the area between her breasts and then
traced his tongue down the trail to her navel. He circled it lightly, before
spearing his tongue and thrusting it inside.

He smelled her arousal, the sudden rush of moisture that
coated her sheath just a few inches below. Would that moisture taste the same,
the essence of Seraphina?

He had to know.

“Remove your skirt,” he instructed and pulled away to allow
her to stand and do so.

The skirt was pushed over her curvy hips and he pulled her
back down on the sofa, parting those smooth thighs. He placed one leg over the
back of the couch. She wore tiny panties in delicate pink, the back merely a
string hidden by her perfectly round behind.

He enclosed his whole mouth over her mound, panties and all.
Blowing his hot breath against her made her squirm and moan exquisitely.

Her panties were wet with the steam from his breath and with
her own honey that creamed from her body. He peeled them down over her legs and
she shivered in anticipation when she was finally free.

She was beautiful. Swollen labia, mostly smooth except for
the hint of golden red hair which masked her delicate clit from his view. He
took his fingers and parted her lips, opening her wide, a vision of loveliness.

She was soaked, slickness coating her and the realization
that it was for him nearly ripped his pants as his almost painful erection
threatened to burst free.