A Rare Breed (13 page)

His lips captured hers with urgent passion. There were no more hesitant nor gentle brushes. His mouth took hers, trying different angles, drinking in her sweetness as if he could never get
enough. He was instinctively teaching her how to kiss him, how to respond to, how to please him. She was thrilled and somewhat amazed with the new sensations cascading through her body. And the kisses, each and every one, increased the level of desire coursing through her veins.

"Tell me," he said between delicious kisses. "Tell me how you feel right now."

Brit nearly laughed out loud at his outrageous suggestion. How could she think at a time like this? She'd never been asked how she felt in the midst of passion. But she'd never felt such powerful passion as at this moment. She'd never realized it could be so good, this good.

Now that Jake was asking, she was curious to examine her feelings, and willing for him to know. "Excited . . ." she began tentatively. Then she added, breathlessly, ". . . and a little nervous, maybe."

"Nervous? Why?" His hands caressed her breasts, rubbing the tips with a gentle rhythm of his thumbs.

She could hardly think past her body's reactions to his caressing. "Nervous that we're finally here, just you and me, alone. That the moment's now."

"It's what you wanted, isn't it?" His hands traced her ribs and explored her back, massaging gently.

"Yes . . . didn't you?"

"Wanted you from the beginning," he confirmed as he stroked her hips, then her thighs. He relished touching what he had only watched until now.

"Yes, oh, yes—" She took a quick breath as he ventured to more intimate parts of her body.

He spread one large hand over her belly, digging his fingers into the curls at her feminine juncture. "Me, too. I want . . ." His hand went lower, fingers slipping between her thighs. "You. Want you now. Want to please you. Tell me how."

"I want . . . you, too. Want to please you, Jake." She'd never thought of lovemaking in this way.

Michael had never asked how she felt, never seemed to want to please her, just her alone. And she had never felt the urge to please him, either. They just went at lovemaking like anything else they did together, each seeking an individual pleasure from the experience. Nothing was shared. Michael usually took the lead, and she followed without question or examination of her own feelings.

Now that Jake was asking about her feelings, she was forced to examine why they were here and what was their purpose. Was this just a sexual experience, merely for the pleasure, or was there more to this encounter between her and Jake? She wanted to believe the latter.

Miraculously, any inhibitions she harbored with this man she hardly knew fell away like their discarded clothes on the cave floor. There was nothing between her and Jake; their relationship was merging, both physically and emotionally. Together. And that was all that mattered.

Brit felt free, as if she were just now discovering her true nature, both her sensual nature and her inner self. These intensely personal elements merged to become one Brit, one liberated, thoroughly alive woman, reveling in her own awakened passion, in her sexuality. She could be herself and enjoy this relationship with Jake.

While she savored the erotica of the moments, enhanced by her own imagination, he slid be-tween her legs and pressed himself into her with such a sudden thrusting that it took her breath away. Curiously, this joining with Jake seemed to be the culmination that her mind and body craved. Together they were fire and spirit, emotion and senses, man and woman. They were together, the way they were meant to be.

Her desires rushed to the ultimate brink that she had so often missed in her relationship with Michael. Her head reeled, her body sang with a new vibrancy. She dug her hands through his hair and moaned low, hoping the wind would carry their sounds of love away, to the towering walls of stone, and on to the sky.

His hands circled her waist, reaching under her hips, lifting, forcing himself fully into her until she moaned again with abounding pleasure.

Again and again he drove into her, rocking them together to the ledge of sensibility. She clung to him, pressing herself to him, going with him all the way. She reached higher and higher, ascending to the wildest heaven she had ever known. She wanted this experience, this marvelous encounter never to end. Together forever!

And when the rapture gripped them, it sent them over the edge and into a swirling of intensity and sensation that combined lust and joy and zeal and . . . love. Love of everything and everyone; love beyond description; love of life; love of each other.

Brit had never known such depths of feeling. She wanted to cry or shout or laugh wildly for joy. Tears burned her eyes and she squeezed them shut, just as she held him tightly to her, in her.

When it was over, a radiant glow warmed them, and they lay in each other's arms for a long time. Jake held her tenderly, still kissing her occasionally, but gently now, and lovingly.

Brit returned his sweet kisses, sometimes pressing her lips to his neck or chest. She wondered if, for a moment, she had lost consciousness in the intensity of her sexual frenzy. She felt as if something had carried her out of this world, away from this sleeping bag in a cave and to some warm, wonderful cloud-like heaven.

They had flown away together. And now they were back, bare bodies heated, the cold night air on their faces. Together.

Brit felt like a different person. Not only had she been introduced to the most terrific sex she'd ever experienced, but she had been freed to experience life and love at its ultimate. The highest and the best. And they were hers to take, hers to have for this night. With Jake.

She nestled in his arms, comfortable in their new relationship, feeling no regrets nor doubts. It had been right; she would always believe that. Sleep came like a
solace, a blanket of content
ment in a life of turbulence and ruggedness. Her confusion was
gone. Jake gave her a new self-
worth and ultimately, a new self that was liberating to her soul. She would always be grateful. She would always remember this encounter, and Jake. Sleep was the only drug that carried her away.

"Brit. Brit, do you want to go . . ." The lightest feather-breath tickled her ear, and Brit fought the heavy sleep that tugged at her subconscious. Still that feather pestered her ear. She brushed at the pest.

"Hmmm?" she mumbled, not awake, but automatically pulling the covers over her head.

Something skimmed her ear again. "Brit . . . go with me?"

"Go home?"

"No. Not that." His voice rumbled in her ear. "Not yet."

Something in the tone, or perhaps the sound of her own voice, woke her. Brit opened her eyes to the dim light of morning. The cave. The Grand Canyon. Jake. "Jake?" She turned to find him smiling down at her.

His dark, hooded eyes contained traces of sleep, and his touchable jet hair was still disheveled from a night of tossing on the pillow with her. His voice s
ounded hoarse in the early morn
ing quiet. "Do you want to go to the cliff dwellings with me. If not, you can sleep all day. It's okay." He said it with a smile, as if he expected her to turn over and close the shades on the day.

After last night, though, Brit was inspired not to miss a thing, even a moment, with Jake. He was too vital, too involved, too interesting. Her eyes widened. "Of course, I want to go with you. I told you I did."

"But I thought you'd forgotten. Or lost the urge."

She smiled sexily. "I'll never forget. And I haven't lost any urges."

"That's reassuring to know," he said as he stretched out beside her on top of the sleeping bag. Propping his head on one hand, he stroked her hair with the other. "You're beautiful in the morning. You still have a little glow after last night . . ." One masculine finger drew a light line down her cheek.

Brit blushed. "I'm still breathless after last night."

"So am I," he admitted with a slight grin. "But I'm glad to know all your urges are still intact." He brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, kissed the cleared spot, then her nose and lips. With slow reverence, he peppered kisses over her face until their lips made contact.

Amazingly, the power of passion clicked on again and they kissed deeply, tongues battling, senses awakening. When he finally raised his head, she realized that one of his legs was draped over hers and she was breathless again. She pushed against his chest and her finger tapped his nose. "Give me a chance to wake up and catch my breath." She meant, "I need time," and he seemed to realize it, for he shifted to give her some space.

"This is all your fault, you know. You cast a spell with those green eyes. And when I look into them, I see myself . . . falling."

She laughed at his verbal images. She couldn't imagine Jake Landry falling anywhere, much less into her spell. If anything, he was the one with the magnetism, and she was the one drawn. But she was determined to refrain, for now, until she had sorted out this sudden relationship, if that's what it was. Even if it were just a fling for both of them, that was okay, too.

"How long have you been awake?" she asked.

"Long enough ago to make the coffee."

She squirmed and tried to sit up. "Coffee sounds great."

"And oatmeal." He sounded hopeful. "I worked up a powerful appetite during the night. So did you."

"I'll settle for coffee."

"No appetite?"

"Not for oatmeal." She ran her hand under his shirt and over his chest.

He shuddered beneath her fingertips. "Shall we stay awhile?"

"No. You have work to do. And you promised to take me along. You aren't getting out of that."

He shifted and lay with one elbow propping up his head. "If you're going with me, you'll do best to dress in layers. As cool as it is now, it’ll be scorching by midday."

"Right. I'm learning about this strange country down here. And about the people, too. Do you happen to have a clean tee shirt I can wear?"

"Sure." He motioned for her to wait under the covers until he brought clean underwear for her. When he got back, he also had half a cup of coffee for her.

"Ah, warm sustenance," she said, gratefully clutching the cup.

"How about a quick cold bath before we dress?" he suggested as he gathered items he thought they might need today.

"Good idea, bad timing. Isn’t it freezing cold?" Brit scrutinized Jake while she sipped her coffee. She watched his careful hands, and remembered how her body responded to his touch when they were making love. Making love. She liked the way that sounded. Especially when she thought of lovemaking with Jake. It sounded as it felt, just right.

He was the most knowledgeable and interesting man she had met in a long time. And now that they were lovers, she knew that he was the sexiest man she had ever known. No, the most sensual; the most romantic; the most . . .

"Ready for a cold dousing?"

She nodded bravely and, wrapped in a blanket, followed him to the river's edge. The place looked different now. It was calmer and the water level was lower. And it was, as Jake promised, icy cold.

They dressed warmly, in layers, and shared a breakfast of coffee, oatmeal, and camp toast. Brit ate a little to satisfy Jake, and they headed for the cliff dwellings.

"Where are they?"

"Not far. About half a mile."

Brit eagerly took off, not even considering the distance they would walk. A week ago, she would have grumbled and complained that half a mile was a long way. She followed Jake wearing his clothes, his underwear, his handmade moccasins. And strangely, she felt absolutely content, completely at ease with the world.

For the first time in her life, she had made love with a man she had known less than a week. And yet, she felt closer to Jake than to anyone, even Michael. Closer emotionally. She was attuned to Jake, confident in him, and interested in his life and the way he worked and made decisions.

Yesterday, watching him orchestrate Yolanda's rescue, was a marvel, she realized in retrospect. He had been amazingly calm and confident. He'd known exactly what to do, what would work with the people and circumstances. She admired someone who could take a bad situation and make it better than expected. Jake had done that. She didn't care what he said about the rescue being teamwork. She knew he had been instrumental in saving Yolanda's life. And she was fascinated by him, so fascinated that she'd made love with him, an almost stranger.

Those moments in his arms would not be forgotten. Ever. She would never forget him, even when they were far, far away from each other. Her thoughts jerked to a halt. Whatever made her think of their parting? As much as she wanted to go home, the thought of leaving Jake, especially after last night, was overwhelming and depressing.

Back home ... to what? No real job. To whom? Michael? Brit shuddered at the thought and knew she could never make love to him again after last night. Michael was history.

Here, everything was simple, basic, and natural. Even she was natural. She had worn no makeup all week, and yet Jake had found her beautiful. She had not done her hair all week. No conditioners. No styling lotion. No crimping. No hair dryer. And yet, Jake had found her irresistible. With him, she actually felt beautiful.