Fever (27 page)

Zak’s words and tone were as unconvincing as her shifting stare. “No, you’re just very good at concealing things. And Estelle seems to be trained as well. I’ve never sat through an entire meal with a parent without hearing at least one bragging story about her child. She is obviously very proud of you and wanted to share some of your successes, but knew it wouldn’t be acceptable. She talked about herself, which appeared to be a struggle for Estelle. Whatever your secret life has become, you’ve dragged your mother unwillingly into it.”

Zak shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. “You don’t know me or my mother well enough to psychoanalyze us.”

“No, but I do know people and the nuances of behavior.”

“In a few days we’ll part company for good and I’ll be just another entry in your collection of sob stories. Trust me, you’re better off not knowing. I’m doing you a favor.”

“Do you file that under deception or hypocrisy?”

“Why is this so important to you anyway?”

Sara rose from the couch and slid the spaghetti straps from her shoulders. She mentally recited a list of adages to bolster her courage. If only those who risk are truly free and anxiety is the dizziness of freedom, she had reached a new level of enlightenment. Why else would she subject herself to almost certain rejection?

“What are you doing?” Zak asked.

“Telling you why this is so important to me. I’m sure that in your world actions speak much louder than words.” She folded the laced bodice of her dress over her breasts and let the sheath slide down her body to the floor. It pooled around her feet and she stepped from it and her shoes simultaneously. She stood there naked. “I’m baring my body and my heart to you, Zak. I have all these feelings for a woman I know nothing about. Do you feel anything for me? Please, just tell me if I’m crazy.”

Time seemed to stall, locked in a freeze-frame of Zak’s steel gray stare, void of action. Sara felt raw and too exposed to endure the stillness and uncertainty. Her choices were few: retreat and give up on Zak entirely, or keep pushing until she hit a wall or rejection. Again, she chose the direct approach. She might never know more about Zak than she did at this moment, but it wouldn’t be for lack of trying. Regrets were not something she suffered well.

Zak stared at Sara’s body, silhouetted against the dim light from the street below, and struggled not to go to her at once. She’d never had a woman offer herself this completely with such unselfish abandon. Sara’s breasts were lusciously full, nipples already tight and extended. The curve of her waist and hips outlined the feminine beauty of her shape and called to Zak in a language as old as time.

“Oh, Sara.” The words Sara needed to hear threatened to choke Zak as she fought to keep them from coming out. Her body was already on fire and her mind spun with too many things she wanted to say but couldn’t justify.

Zak watched Sara step closer to where she sat on the sofa and her insides coiled with a hunger she’d forgotten she possessed. Sara reached for her hands and pulled her up so they faced each other. She shucked the vest off Zak’s shoulders and fingered loose the buttons of her shirt, lightly skimming her skin underneath. Tugging the shirttail from her trousers, she left the garment open down her chest. The night breeze ruffled the fabric back and forth against her body. Bolts of arousal shot through Zak and her nipples hardened into painful points against the cool cotton. Her pulse quickened and her breath escaped in short, needy gasps.

Partially unzipping Zak’s pants, Sara let them hang loosely on her hips. She slid her hand inside as if checking for more clothing but dipped deeper into the slick heat between her legs. Zak bucked against her hand, then pulled back, afraid of the level of her desire. Sara raised her moist fingers to her lips and licked Zak’s juices from them, moaning as she sucked each digit clean. She reached up and removed the jeweled hair comb that held her hair atop her head. The coppery waves fell across her shoulders and spilled onto her breasts. Grabbing handfuls of hair, she rubbed it over her own nipples. Still squeezing one breast, she trailed a hand down her abdomen and Zak watched it disappear between her thighs. “Animals judge people by their smells and body language. What are mine telling you, Zak?”

Sara closed her eyes and arched her back as she rhythmically stroked above the waist and below. Her breaths were coming in broken pants as her fingers slid easily back and forth over her glistening bush. Zak couldn’t take her eyes from the lithe movements that edged Sara closer to orgasm. Another throaty moan and Zak’s desire consumed her like heat scorching the desert.

“Don’t.” Zak’s vision blurred as she descended on Sara. She didn’t remember undressing as she moved toward her, but when she threw Sara onto the king-sized bed and came to rest on top of her, they were both naked. Pain stabbed between her legs and propelled her pelvis against Sara’s in voracious thrusts. Grabbing Sara’s ass, Zak forced her to meet her driving hips. She clamped her mouth over Sara’s breast and sucked, feeling as if she could drain life itself from the malleable flesh. She desperately clawed and humped, wanting only to release the spiraling energy that threatened to render her mad.

“Zak.”

Her body ached and no amount of pounding eased the pressure. She needed more from their bodies. Lowering her hand to Sara’s thighs, Zak forced her legs apart with her knees and shoved her fingers inside. Her thrusts were powerful and unyielding, her intent to satisfy Sara’s passion without being consumed by her own savage demands.

“Zak, please stop.”

The power of being in control of Sara’s body fanned Zak’s lust. This stage of desire was foreign to her and frightening in a way she refused to acknowledge. Years of stifled emotions flooded her body, insistent on liberation, and sex was the only acceptable release. She had to manage Sara’s response and still contain her own, but the more she tried, the more uncontrollable her reactions became.

“Stop, Zak!”

Zak froze in mid-stroke, hovering over Sara like an animal crouching over its prey. Sara’s expression was clouded with questions and fear. Tears trickled from the corners of her eyes. Zak rolled away from her, clutching the ache between her legs as if it could distract her from the shame she felt. Her body quivered like she’d been disconnected from life support. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened.” She swung her legs off the side of the bed and buried her face in her hands.

“Things were getting a little too forceful for me. It felt like you weren’t really here.”

“I knew this was a bad idea.”

Sara scooted beside her. “This wasn’t a bad idea.”

“How can you say that? If I haven’t hurt you yet, I probably would have.”

“Would you? Hurt me?” Sara’s voice sounded scared, whispery and unsure.

Tears stung Zak’s eyes as Sara’s words stabbed at her heart. “No, never. At least not intentionally.”

Sara stroked Zak’s back in a calming manner. “Darling, tell me what happened just now.” She wiped the tears from Zak’s cheeks and placed a soft, reassuring kiss on her lips before easing her back down on the bed.

“I’m not sure.” Zak rested her head on Sara’s chest, ashamed to look her in the eyes as she tried to explain her emotional defects. “I couldn’t control what I was feeling. It was like a drug rush that I wanted to ride but knew I had to contain. It wasn’t even entirely sexual. It was more like…”

“Rage?”

The lump in Zak’s throat confirmed that Sara’s guess was on the mark. Years of suppressed resentment and revenge were finally beginning to take their toll, demanding release in some form. She raised her head to look in Sara’s eyes as she spoke, knowing that what she was about to say was important. “Yes, but not at you. Do you believe me?”

Sara held her stare, the reassurance in her eyes answering before she spoke. “Yes, I do. From what I’ve seen, you work very hard at emotional restraint. And when you do let it out, it’s usually as hostility. Years of that can stifle intimacy and sexual enjoyment.”

Zak wanted to object because she’d never had problems with sex. But it had only been sex without an emotional or intimate component. Being with Sara was different. She wanted to feel more with her, to express more, to let herself go, but giving those feelings free rein made her uncontrollable and dangerous. Was there no middle ground between her cold, calculated life and the passion that flared inside? “I should probably go.” But Sara hugged her tighter, refusing to be separated. “Sara, please. It’s best.”

“Don’t you want me?”

“Of course I do, but I can’t risk hurting you. And I can’t promise that won’t happen.”

“Let me try something.”

Sara’s fingers trailed lightly up Zak’s body and felt like sparks landing on her flesh. “What?” Zak breathed, barely able to speak.

“I don’t want you to do anything but feel and tell me what you’re feeling. Let me make you come. Can you do that?”

Before she could answer, Sara delicately traced the outline of her lips with the tip of her tongue. When Zak opened her mouth to take her in, Sara continued a teasing play across her lips and up to her eyelids. Her tongue and breath were hot on Zak’s skin and felt so light as to be almost imperceptible.

“What do you feel?”

“Tension. Hunger. Pain. Fear.”

“Kiss me.” Zak grabbed Sara’s face between her hands and claimed her mouth. She thrust her tongue inside, probing deeply, sucking her, wanting more. Sara gently released Zak’s grip, guided her hands back to the bed, and withdrew from the kiss. “Kiss me slowly, with your eyes open.”

Zak watched Sara’s mouth as she lowered herself for the kiss. Her lips were red and swollen, wet and inviting. When they were about to touch, Sara licked Zak’s lips, then breathed on them. Cool replaced the heat and Zak’s body shivered.

“What did you feel?”

“Fire and ice, more hunger, lots of pain.”

When their lips met, Zak held Sara’s liquid brown gaze as a series of emotions flashed as if on a screen. Surprise accompanied their initial contact, followed by joy as the kiss deepened. Subsequently desire took over, and finally raw hunger before she withdrew. Zak felt a connection she’d never experienced as the kiss flowed through her like a shot of hundred-proof liquor, powerfully strong and slowly spreading its warmth. “So hot. Like I’m melting inside.”

Sara kissed her way to Zak’s ear, tongued the rim, and probed inside. “I’m going to make you come harder than you ever have,” she whispered. “You want that, don’t you?”

“God, yes. Do it now.”

“Not yet, baby. Just feel it, slow and easy.” She left a tongue trail of wet and chilly kisses on Zak’s skin as she worked her way over to her breasts. Sucking a nipple into her mouth, Sara ground it gently back and forth between her teeth.

“Harder,” Zak pleaded.

“What does this feel like?” Sara asked, her mouth still around Zak’s breast.

“Teasing my clit. Not hard enough.” Zak tried to control the labored pace of her breathing, but Sara’s ministrations were making concentration impossible.

“Easy does it, love. Pleasure doesn’t have to hurt to feel good.”

“I need to feel it.” Zak grabbed her other breast and squeezed the soft flesh up to the tip like a Popsicle. When she reached the nipple, she pinched it between her thumb and forefinger and her pelvis pumped the air in response.

“Zak, please. Let me.” Sara released Zak’s grip on her breast and replaced it with gentle, circular tongue strokes. “Tell me how this feels.”

Zak tried not to allow Sara’s tender touch to alter her sexual routine. Sex for her had always been hard, fast, and satisfying, and she’d always been in control. Slowing down meant actually taking time to experience the sensations leading up to orgasm. It meant feeling more than the physical. Neither gentleness nor mere emotion had ever aroused her. But Sara’s hands and mouth were warm on her skin, their effects soothing yet stimulating beyond corporeal reason. Tears clouded her eyes and she blinked to keep them from falling.

“Too—tender.” Her voice cracked. “Too gentle. I need more—”

“I know, darling. It’s exactly what you need. More tenderness. Just relax.” Sara settled between Zak’s legs and rested her cheek against her thigh. She continued to slowly massage Zak’s breasts as she blew a steady stream over her wet sex.

“It’s good.” Zak’s craving reignited. “Touch me, please.”

“Soon, very soon.” Sara buried the fingers of one hand in Zak’s curly bush and tugged tenderly. Zak’s clit twitched and she got wetter. She wanted to shove Sara’s hand into her opening but took a deep breath and concentrated on Sara’s actions.

She pulled again, then trailed a finger across Zak’s clit with a feathery touch. “You like that, don’t you? Tell me.”

“So horny. Need you inside me.” She tried to grab the aching spot at the join of her thighs, but Sara pushed her hand aside.

“You’re so wet. I want to taste you so badly.”

“Do it, please, Sara.” Zak’s sexual pain was easy to identify. It hung hard and insistent between her legs. But her emotional need for Sara transcended understanding. It seemed to permeate her body and mind with a yearning more overpowering than any physical desire. When had this connection become so imperative and how had it happened?

She lay suspended between bodily heaven and hell, and yet the sweetest anticipation was wondering what she would feel for Sara next. Where would she touch her and what sentiment would it elicit? Sara handled her with delicate precision, as if she might disintegrate. If Sara suddenly withdrew all physical contact, their link would remain, an almost tangible thread tying them together.