Meadow's Keep (The Gatekeepers Series) (34 page)

God, what a dream. Jasmine took a deep breath and threw out her arm—across Eryk’s solid chest. She shot up like a rocket, turned and watched his green eyes focus.
She followed his gaze to her naked breasts.

“Shit!” She tried to grab the sheet tangled beneath their two bodies. “What in the hell are you doing in my room?”

A smile played across his lips and he looked toward the door. She frowned. The door was on the wrong wall. The sheet slipped away and her arm fell. She was in
his
room. She had come to
his
room.

She looked back at him, panic in her eyes.

He sat up on the side of the bed and ran his hands up and down her arms, letting his energy soothe. But, it didn’t, it pulsed and the urge to slip into each other’s arms and a heated kiss was overwhelming. He stood and, as his mouth moved over hers once more, sanity slapped at her, and she leapt back, nearly tripping over a pile of clothing.

Jasmine
shook her hands as if to dissipate the energy or fling it away from her. “Oh,” she muttered. Oh, no.” She reached down, grabbed some clothes, and fled.

E
ryk watched the svelte, naked shape retreat across the hall. Just watching her move made his pulse pound in his veins. He couldn’t get enough of her. Okay, sure, so part of it was that match-mate thing. When she came in his room earlier, his very being reached out for her. Looking back, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever had a choice. From the time she appeared at the fairgrounds, her soul called to him. Now he’d answered. He smiled, And it felt damn good. He stretched, arched his back, felt his muscles lengthen and relax. The power flowed through his body, every fiber carrying energy.

Then he felt it—gut wrenching anguish
. It coursed through his body like molten lava, sluggishly tugging at his heart. He reached for his jeans, rubbing at his chest where the ache was, and yanked the denim up his legs. He had leapt two steps forward as the anguish clawed at him. He slammed open the door across the hall and ran through the empty room.

In the bathroom,
she was slumped against the large marble tub, her arms wrapped around her naked waist, tears falling unchecked to the floor. Not a sound emerged from her lips. With her head down, he couldn’t see her face. But, he could feel her, as though his soul rested next to hers.

Eryk
sat next to her and gathered her cold, naked, quivering body into his lap. “Jasmine…honey…it’ll be all right. We’ll make it all right—”

A soft whimper escaped as she curled deeper against him.

“It’s not so bad. I’m really a nice guy,” he encircled her with his arms and rocked.

“Oooooh—” The sound came out half moan, half hiccup.

He brushed her hair back, tilting her head back and looked into the deep black pools of her eyes, filled with tears. Eryk gently kissed her brow. “There’s no one in this world I’d rather be tied—” He realized, at her louder wail, that that particular word shouldn’t have come from his lips and decided silence was best. So he held her and rocked her, until the weeping passed.

Once she quieted, he
shifted her and managed to stand, holding her to his side. “Let’s get you into a warm shower.” He turned on the water and waited, holding her up.

Jasmine let him hold her. It was all she could do. The sadness had encompassed her.
She knew Eryk was right. He wasn’t a bad guy. Hell, she’d been the one to come to him. She couldn’t seem to control the pain and anguish that drained her of any thought. She let him take control and lead her under the warm spray of water. It soothed the ache. As he took the bottle of body wash and poured it into his palm, she opened her eyes and her heart melted. Eryk was standing under the spray with her, still wearing his jeans, the v of the unzipped front having slipped down to show a trail of dark hair that thickened and disappeared beneath the soaked denim. Her breath quickened as her eyes moved up his abdomen and over the taut muscles.

Eryk took the soap
and spread it across both palms, then ran his hands up her arms. All he could think of was to soothe her ache. The contact with her flesh sent a flash of energy through him, straight to his gut and his eyes focused on her tawny brown areolas as they hardened and puckered before his gaze. He swallowed and raised his gaze to her face. Her eyes had darkened and she parted her full lips and let her tongue slip out, licking the bottom one. Her hands took his wrists and slid them around until his hands were cupping her breasts. Then she slid her now soapy hands up his chest to ease around his neck. She pulled his mouth down to hers.

They were lost in passion
. His mouth took hers and she began to rub herself against him, moaning, begging. He pushed her back against the wall, his mouth nipping at her neck, his hands luxuriating in the heat of her body.

“Please,” she whimpered.

Eryk shoved his jeans down, and lifting her, eased her down until he was deep inside her swollen body. Jasmine wrapped her long legs around his waist and began to move as he cupped the cheeks of her bottom.

As they moved together, the energy built between them, flowing back and forth, as though they
shared one system. Their hearts, pounding furiously, beat out the same rhythm. She called his name in her mind and he answered, as if they’d spoken. Higher, they reached yet higher, and their bodies seemed to meld together. When their climaxes exploded from them, so did the energy, sending sparks of light dancing around the shower.

S
till breathing heavily, Eryk held her in place against the wall and let the shower ease his galloping heart. “I’m so sorry, Jasmine,” he panted out. “This was not what I intended.”

Her voice came out as breathy, “Me, either.”
She unwrapped her legs and slid down his body. Then she looked up at him. “I do feel better,” she added with a half-smile.

“Well…uh…glad I could be of help…,” he said
but didn’t smile.

Jasmine reached up and placed her hand on his face. “I really am better. I don’t know what happened.
"

Eryk stepped out of his jeans and kicked them aside. “Shall we try this shower thing again?”

The double-headed shower made for double efficient showering and Eryk stepped out as Jasmine rinsed her hair. He was waiting for her with two towels, one for her head and one for her body. Eryk watched as she wrapped the oversized towel about her body, neatly tucking the ends over her breasts.

She walked over to the tub and, briskly rubbing the towel over her short black hair, sat right above where she’d been leaning earlier. Her hands abruptly stopped their motion. “O
ooh.” The moan was low and keening.

Eryk swung around at the sound to see Jasmine grab her middle and lean forward. In one step he pulled her up into his arms.
Jasmine stiffened and stood rigid against him. Seconds passed as neither budged—her assessing and him waiting.

Jasmine stepped away from him and looked up into his green eyes that had instant
ly grown darker. “Did you feel that?”

Cautiously, he studied her. “When I pulled you to me, it was the same anguish as earlier. Are you okay?”

She frowned. “Yeah,” she responded and stopped, seeming to take some sort of mental inventory. “Yeah,” she repeated, her voice stronger. “I’m fine.”

“Then what the hell just happened?”

“I don’t know, but we’re gonna find out.” She walked back to the tub and sat in the same spot. Prepared this time, the anguish wasn’t as sharp, but it was still pervasive.

Jasmine reached out her hand to Eryk.

Eryk
had watched her take the two steps to the tub, her body tall and sure. As soon as she’d lowered herself to the edge, a frown creased her brow and she reached out for him. The moment their hands touched, he felt that sapping ache, the sadness oozing through him like lava. He pulled her to him and away from the tub. The ache lessened until it dissipated. He found himself taking a deep breath.

Jasmine ran her hand through her short hair, setting
it into soft spikes.

Eryk smiled. She was the only woman he’d ever seen that was be
autiful any way he saw her, whether coiffed and dressed in her designer couture or still damp from a shower, scrubbed, with her hair in total disarray. He felt a warmth in the region of his heart and let it settle, enjoying the intimacy of it.

“I can’t think of the damn word
,” she said, bringing his thoughts back to her pacing back and forth. She waved her hands in the air, giving them a little shake. Tiny sparks flew from her fingers. “Damn,” she uttered and tucked her hands under her arms.

“You okay?”

As if she had just realized he was there, she turned and focused on him. “That psychic phenomenon—the one where an object keeps an image—or something like that.” She resumed pacing. “I need to call Bask. But I don’t want to call Bask.”

“Why don’t you want to call Bask?”

She stopped and confronted him. “Because he’ll know,” she hissed.

“I have a feeling he suspects anyway.
We really need to talk to him. What happened was strange, even by Ruthorford standards, I suspect.”

“Well, don’t look at me. I wouldn’t know.”
Her voice rose and each word became clipped.

Eryk threw up his hands. “Hey. I’m on your side. Remember me, your mate.”

If looks could injure, he was sure the one she gave him was meant to do harm.

“I was just trying to throw a
little levity on the situation,” he added.

Her narrowed eyes shut him up. He grabbed his jeans and wrung them out. “Well, these have to go in a dryer or you need to go get me some jeans from the car.”

“Why me?”

“Because this is all I’ve got.” He whipped off the towel and plastered a big grin on his face.

Jasmine felt her breath hitch. He was magnificent.
And he’s mine.
Now, where in the hell had that thought come from. “Put the towel back on, I’m going.” She marched out of the bathroom and halfway across the hall when she stopped, pivoted on her heel, and stepped up to him to grab her clothes out of his hand. His laughter followed her into the bedroom where she took pleasure in slamming the door.

Jasmine slipped on the jeans and sweater she’d worn the day before. She was really getting tired of being so haphazard in her appearance. It wasn’t that she was vain. It gave her a sense of control.
She cursed herself for not at least bringing in her bag when she ran from the car. She was straightening her sweater when she heard the chirp of her phone coming from the pile of items still on the floor.

She grabbed it up and dropped down on the edge of the bed. It was Bask. She inhale
d deeply and answered the call. “Hey, old man.” She tried to sound nonchalant.

As usual, he picked up right where he’d left off. “I can’t find anything else. Morna’s a mystery. I don’t like mysteries.”

“Then you work for the wrong organization, wouldn’t you say?” She couldn’t help herself.

“Watch your mouth, young lady,” Bask admonished
, but she could hear the jest in his tone. “Okay, now for something serious. Teresa called. She’s worried because she hasn’t heard from you.”

At the thought of
her cousin, Jasmine felt the flush creep up her neck. She should have called more and been there for the woman who’d loved her like a mother. “I’ll call her when I hang up. Promise.” She hesitated then hurried on before he could hang up. “I have a question. What is it when you can sense something from an object?”

She glanced up and saw Eryk leaning against the
doorjamb, his arms crossed over his muscular torso. At least the towel was back in place. Still, just the sight of him sent her heart racing.

“You mean psychometry? Why? Has Eryk—”

“No,” she interrupted. “It’s me.”

“You
? When did this star….” His words trailed off.

Jasmine shut her eyes and rushed on, avoiding his questions. “I felt something in the bathroom. Severe anguish. It was almost painful. I don’t know if the person was upset or in pain—or both.”

“Can Eryk feel it?"

“I think so, I don’t know.”

Suddenly, he was excited. His words came out in a rush. “Okay, go around, separately. Or together, if you must. Pick up objects. Maybe we can get a reading. The strongest would be the most recent. Damn,” he added, almost to himself, “I need to do some research. I’ll get back to you.” He hung up.

Jasmine rolled her eyes as she pu
t the phone away.

“Do you think you can get me some clothes before he calls back?”

Having just started to call Teresa, she ended it and tucked the phone in her pocket. “Sure. I’ll be right back.” She retrieved her boots from across the hall and headed downstairs, careful not to inadvertently touch anything. At the back door, as she grabbed the doorknob, she got a swift push of frustration and anger. She released the knob as if it had burned her and headed out to the car.

The night seemed brighter. Maybe it was getting closer to dawn. Jasmine slammed her palms against her ears as a cacophony of
night noises seemed to explode around her. She winced and ran for the car. She hit the remote, only to have the headlights flash, momentarily blinding her. She should let him go naked.