Witchy Woman (17 page)

They sat in the living room, each of them in one of
the club chairs, staring at each other. Tess had noticed that Nate had started avoiding the leather couch, the way she did. She wondered why.

“You can back out now if you want,” she said suddenly. “I can do it alone.”

He shook his head. “No way. I started this thing with you, and I’m going to finish it.”

“One or both of us might be killed,” she said, just in case he hadn’t figured that out.

He had. “I know that. I believe it. But we’ve already cheated death more than once, even if it was by inches. I have to believe we’ll keep cheating the bastard.”

They fell silent for a time. Tess became more aware of the darkness outside. She knew the exact moment that the moon rose above the horizon—she could feel the rays of pale light enhancing her power. Her blood seemed to race through her veins. Her skin became almost unbearably sensitive, so that she was aware of every fiber of her clothing rubbing against her.

Or, she considered, maybe the way she felt had nothing to do with magic, other than the ordinary man-woman kind. Nate’s gaze was trained on her, palpable as a caress. She suddenly remembered how it had felt to kiss him, to have his arms around her. Her body reacted to the memory, sending a surge of warmth to her center.

“Nate.”

“Yes?”

“If I …” She stopped, choosing her words very carefully. “If we don’t succeed in lifting the curse, I
don’t know what will become of us—death, insanity, or just miserable bad luck for the rest of our lives.”

“Yeah. We’ve covered that ground.”

“Well, I don’t want to go to my fate without knowing … what it’s like … to be loved.” Her face flushed hot. She couldn’t believe what she was about to suggest. But impending doom had turned her brazen.

Nate’s eyes widened. “I thought you couldn’t. You have to—I mean—” He sputtered to a stop. “What do you mean?”

“We can’t physically make love,” she said hastily, determined now to voice her idea. “But we’ve developed a pretty strong psychic link. If you were to hold me and—and
think
about what we would do if we could …” Oh, was this an idiotic idea or what?

Nate appeared truly stunned at first, but then a slow smile spread across his face. “I’m not sure you want to know what I’m thinking. It’s pretty strong stuff.”

“Yes, I do,” she said with as much conviction as she could muster. “I want to be one with you, body and soul. If we can’t do the body thing right now, then I want to see into your soul.”

“But I won’t be able to see into yours,” he said, his voice like black velvet against her senses. Just the same he rose from his chair and came toward her. He drew very close, but he didn’t touch her.

“If you open yourself up, maybe you can,” she said. “You already read my mind once. And you’ve stopped sitting on the leather sofa, like maybe you have a little part of me in you already.”

He looked over at the sofa, his face reflecting amazement. “I
have
been avoiding it.”

She held her hand out to him. “Touch me, Nate. Please?”

Slowly his large hand enfolded hers, warm and reassuring. “You didn’t honestly think I was going to refuse, did you?” He pulled her to her feet, then encircled her lightly with his arms. “Like this?”

“Mmm.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. Already his vibrations were nudging her consciousness. Rather than tensing up, she relaxed against him and opened her mind. This was Nate. Whatever he was thinking about her—no matter how earthy it might be—would never hurt her.

Nate ran his hands up and down her back, relaxing her further. “I don’t know about you,” he murmured against her hair, “but I think we ought to sit down for this. Otherwise we might injure ourselves.”

She leaned into him. He almost made her smile. “Your fantasies are that good, huh?”

“Wait and see.” He maneuvered himself into the chair she’d just vacated, then pulled her into his lap. “Lean back and put your head on my shoulder. I’ll just put my arms around you like this.…”

There were no more words, at least not that Tess was aware of. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and let the images come to her.

She found herself in a room surrounded by white satin drapes. She wore a flowing gauzy dress, her bare feet sinking into plush carpeting. In the center of the
room was a mound of silk-covered pillows in all shades of pastel. She could smell the delicate scent of roses.

She had only a moment to appreciate the decadence of her environment, when Nate appeared beside her. He looked much as he did in real life, wearing worn jeans and a crisp cotton shirt, but the wild glint of passion in his eyes, unchecked, was something new: A thrill coursed through her, followed by liquid heat. She’d had no idea a man’s eyes could be so arousing.

He touched her arm lightly and paused, as if asking for permission to continue. But when she looked up into his face looming above her, those passion-shined, determined eyes, she knew nothing in the world would stop this fantasy. She couldn’t even open her eyes and put a halt to things—as if she wanted to. Her physical body was paralyzed.

Her fantasy body was anything but, yet she found that her free will had little to do with how the fantasy played out. She moved as he wanted her to, though without his saying a word.

It seemed perfectly natural to turn away from him and allow him to unfasten the long row of tiny buttons down her back. She shivered with pleasure each time his fingers came in contact with her bare skin as he accomplished the task quickly and smoothly.

When he was finished, the gauze dress slid off her shoulders and down to pool at her feet. To her surprise, though not her displeasure, she was completely bare underneath it.

She was not embarrassed in the least to have Nate see her this way. Of course, why would she be? It was a
dream. But it felt like so much more than a dream, as if their souls were commingling on some astral plane. It felt more real than any vision she’d ever experienced.

Nate continued to stand behind her, his hands on her shoulders, nuzzling her sensitive nape. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. His breath was warm against her skin, and she found herself wishing he would move those strong-but-sensitive hands of his to other places on her body, the places that tingled with longing.

She wondered idly how she looked in his mind, then realized that he couldn’t see her. He might be using his imagination to dream up this fantasy, but she alone was experiencing it. That thought made her a little sad.

Immersing herself in the experience soon overshadowed any melancholy thoughts. She bathed in the glow of his approval as he ran his hands lightly along her back, exploring each muscle as if he were playing doctor, rubbing his thumbs along her spine. He cupped her buttocks briefly, causing her heart to try to beat its way out of her chest.

Then he whirled her around to face him.

He was naked. How he got that way, she supposed, was no concern of hers. She breathed in and out, taking in the sight of his beautiful body with its tanned, hard planes. The hair on his chest, just a light dusting, was light brown with a surprising tawny glint to it. His nipples were small and dark.

“Touch me,” he directed her.

Freed from every inhibition she’d ever had, she did touch him. First she laid her hands lightly against his
rib cage. Then she leaned in and tongued one of his nipples.

He groaned in obvious pleasure.

Emboldened, she blazed a trail of kisses up his firm arm to his collarbone. At this point she didn’t kid herself, he was in complete control of the situation—standing stoically with his hands lightly resting on her shoulders, enduring her gentle ministrations with scarcely a sign of reaction except the quickness of his breathing.

When her mouth reached his chin, he came to life. His grip on her shoulders tightened. He tilted his head down and angled his mouth over hers, taking possession with one long, slow, wet kiss.

The kiss was a little familiar. She found she didn’t even have to summon the memory of how he tasted—it was just there. It was also different, new, more exciting, more frightening, maybe because she knew it wouldn’t end there. She slid her hands around his middle and planted them firmly on his back, holding him tightly to her as he thoroughly explored her mouth with little nips and nibbles, then a bold thrust of his tongue.

Tess had never felt anything so wonderful. Closeness was foreign to her, always associated with discomfort, yet there she was practically inside Nate’s skin, and she’d never felt better. She’d never felt quite so much a woman, either. Her blood thrummed through her veins, her heart beat wildly, her juices flowed, and the core of her burned with a fire that would not be quenched by anything but total satisfaction.

It kept getting better. Still kissing her with exquisite
thoroughness, Nate moved one hand to her breast. At first he simply held it, letting her get accustomed to the new intimacy. Then he began a slow caress, exploring every square inch before finally focusing on her nipple.

Such sweet torture! Following unfamiliar instincts, she pushed her hips against his, finding the evidence of his arousal pressed against her belly. She reveled in the feel of it, exalted in her sense of feminine power.

“Am I there? Am I with you?”

Nate’s voice floated to her from somewhere else. It took her a few disconcerting moments to realize it was the real live Nate, speaking softly into her ear. He had no way of knowing whether he had breached the barriers of her mind unless she told him so.

“Yes, I’m reading you loud and clear,” she said a little desperately. “For God’s sake, don’t stop now!”

“No, no,” he murmured soothingly. “I won’t.”

She was briefly aware of his arms, wrapping themselves more securely around her in the real world; their bodies, though still fully clothed, touching intimately.

Then she was back, fully involved in the fantasy, naked and surrounded by silk and satin.

Nate ended the kiss, then abruptly scooped her up into his arms as if she weighed no more than a cloud. And, she thought dimly, maybe she didn’t. This was fantasy, after all.

He eased her down onto the mound of pillows. “I’m going to love you like no woman’s ever been loved,” he said, as clearly as if they’d been talking in the conscious world. “I’m going to worship every part of your body, from your little toes to your eyebrows,
and then I’m going to take you and make you mine—forever mine.”

She thrilled to his words even as she acknowledged that she might be embellishing the fantasy.
Forever mine?
Nate wouldn’t have said that. They’d never even talked about next week, much less eternity.

But she couldn’t devote any more time to analyzing words. He was making good on his promises, kissing her feet, sucking on her toes, finding little hollows and dents and bumps that were incredibly sensitive—places she’d never dreamed could be so erogenous. Writhing with pleasure, she wondered distractedly if she wouldn’t be expected to do the same thing to him in reverse. She found herself thinking about touching him intimately, and her whole body flushed and tingled.

He worked his way up, eliciting sighs and giggles and moans of pure pleasure, though he meticulously avoided her most intimate areas. By the time he’d reached the halfway point, she’d reached the end of her patience.

“I’m ready now,” she said.

He kissed each of her breasts without comment, lavishing attention on them.

“I’m ready
now.
”

He ignored the pleading tone in her voice, taking his time. Surely midnight would come and go by the time he finished reducing her to an abject puddle of wanton desire, but she couldn’t change a thing. She was helpless. Deliriously aroused, but helpless.

He did, indeed, finish with her eyebrows. Then he
looked deeply into her eyes. He didn’t have to say anything further. She separated her legs, inviting him to become a part of her.

He knelt between her bent knees, then covered her body with his. He gave her a light kiss, almost an apology, and then he slid inside.

Her whole body felt electrified. As Nate thrust inside her the affected nerve endings practically cried out from the stimulation.

Her brain was about to be overloaded with pleasure.

It occurred to her to wonder—if this was his fantasy, how come
she
felt so great?

An exquisite pressure built inside her, demanding release. Was this what she’d heard about and thought would never happen to her? How could those mechanical descriptions she’d read about in sex-education classes translate into this heavenly experience? Or was
her
imagination working overtime? She’d certainly read enough romance novels, with their heavily sensual, overembellished love scenes.

She couldn’t devote much attention to wondering about that. She was swamped with sensations. She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Then suddenly the earth tilted, and she thought she got a real glimpse of heaven. She cried out from the sheer physical joy of it, of finding such unexpected ecstasy.

Her eyes were closed, both in fantasy and in reality. When she opened them tentatively, she saw not the satin room with its pink-and-lilac pillows, but Nate’s
dimly lit living room. Her cries seemed to echo around the room, and her throat felt a little raw.

Nate still held on tightly, his face buried against her neck. He spoke first. “You okay?”

“Yes, I think so.” She was still trying to figure out what had happened. Though she was definitely back in the here and now, some vestiges of the fantasy remained. The way her body felt, for example. Satiated. Completely and thoroughly satisfied.

“I feel like an idiot asking this, but, did it work?”

She nodded. “Really well.” She twisted around so she could see him, then cupped his face with her hand while he looked at her quizzically. “It was the most beautiful …” Words failed her. She was surprised to feel tears threatening. “What have I been missing?”

“I wish I’d been there.”

“You were!” she insisted.

He shook his head sadly. “It was just a fantasy for me—an especially good one, but completely imaginary—nothing approaching cosmic.”