Deadly Dance (34 page)

“Stay safe?” He gave her the ghost of a smile. “I honestly don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.”

“Nothing’s going to happen,” she said, shaking her head, willing him to believe, “not as long as I’m here with you.”

With a groan, he pulled her into his arms, his eyes devouring her as he bent his head to kiss her. She opened her mouth beneath his lips, offering herself to him—wanting to become a part of him. To heal him. Even as he healed her. Two wounded souls coming together—forming a whole. If someone had said the words out loud, she would have dismissed them as romantic claptrap, but standing here in the half light, with the feel of his skin against hers, it seemed that anything was possible.

His tongue thrust deep, tangling with hers, the two of them taking and giving. Thrusting and parrying. It was like a dance. The movements already defined. The partnership the key.

He removed her glasses and kissed her eyelids, and her cheeks, his tongue tracing a line of heat that sent shivers of desire racing through her. His hand dipped beneath the simple camisole she wore, his fingers closing around her breast, his thumb moving across the nipple. The friction falling somewhere between pleasure and pain, the sensation arousing a fire deep within her.

She pressed against him, and he pushed the camisole off her shoulders, tracing the line of her shoulder with his tongue, then kneeling before her to take one of her breasts in his mouth, his hands hard against her bottom as he sucked, his tongue dancing over her overly sensitized skin until her entire body was throbbing in anticipation.

And then he moved to the other breast, rolling the nipple between his teeth, biting softly, shards of electricity dancing across nerve endings she hadn’t even known
she possessed. With gentle hands, he pulled off her pants and panties, his big hands closing around her bottom as he sank lower, kissing her abdomen and then the soft hair that curled between her thighs.

Hannah’s legs turned to Jell-O and she would have fallen except that his hands held her firmly. With a smile, he lifted her leg, pulling it over his shoulder, the action opening her to the full ministrations of his mouth. She threaded her fingers through his hair as he parted the folds that guarded all her secrets. And then with a soft sucking kiss, he pushed his tongue deep inside her as he tasted and teased.

She writhed against him, swallowing a scream as he pulled her clit into his mouth, sucking deeply, building the rhythm as he flicked his tongue against it. The pressure was almost unbearable, and yet when he pulled free, she cried out in frustration.

But instead, he lifted her into his arms, his mouth finding hers again. And she tasted herself on his lips, the essence primordial, and she drank deeply—wanting him so badly she thought she might die from it.

With shaking fingers, she pulled his shirt free, working feverishly to remove it. He released her long enough to take off the rest of his clothes, and then he pulled her back into his arms, settling them onto one of the dining room chairs, his penis hard against her as she straddled him. She opened her mouth to protest, but he covered her lips with a finger, pulling her back so that her bottom was couched in the curve of his lap, her back against his chest, his hands circling her hips as he lifted her.

Opening her legs, he thrust into her, his hands moving to her breasts, fingers circling, kneading, pressing as he
began to move, and she began to ride. Up and down. Up and down. He was so deep she felt as if he’d pierced her core. All the places that she kept hidden—secret. He was part of that now. Part of her.

Deeper and deeper still, he thrust. And she closed her eyes, letting the rapture of the movement and the accompanying sensations carry her away. It was like flying. She’d never felt so free.

Beneath her, she could feel his rising tension, feel his muscles contracting with his own desire. And she concentrated on the feel of him rising and falling—thrusting and retreating—matching his rhythm, determined to give him as much as he was giving her.

And then there was nothing but the feel of their bodies moving together, the strength of him moving inside her, and the powerful sensations rocketing through her as they climbed higher and higher, everything in the world disappearing but the two of them, riding a wave of pleasure so strong and pure she wasn’t entirely sure she’d survive it.

But she didn’t care. There was nothing more important than this moment with this man. He was everything. He was thrusting harder and faster now, and she met his challenge with movement of her own. Squeezing and releasing, the friction beyond incredible.

And then his hand slid down between her legs, slipping inside to pleasure her as she pushed downward, taking him deeper still, his lips moving against her neck, her body tightening as if she were a finely tuned bow. And with a spasm of pure joy, she let herself go, falling over the edge, her body shuddering around his as she splintered into shivering delight.

He pulled her close as he, too, found his release, his
breathing rasping against her ear, his fingers still stroking her body, his face buried in her hair. They stayed for a moment like that, and then he gathered her into his arms, carrying her up the stairs, but instead of heading for the bedroom, he took her into the bathroom.

Setting her on the soft warmth of the carpet, he ran a bath, the sound of the water sensual and soothing. Steam filled the air, swirling around them as he pulled her to her feet, and after a long languid kiss, helped her into the water.

It lapped around her breasts, teasing her as he took the soap and gently began to lather her body, starting with her back and then moving to her breasts. First one and then the other, his fingers moving tenderly, caressing each one, the soap sliding over her nipples. And then he moved the soap lower, sliding it across her stomach and back and then between her legs, the act more intimate somehow than anything they’d done before.

She shuddered, desire rising again, and with a smile, he moved to the front of the tub and slid into the water, pulling her soap-slick body onto his lap, her legs around him as he leaned in for a kiss, his tongue tracing the line of her lips before dipping inside.

The kiss was dreamlike. The steam and the water moving around them in slow undulation, enhancing the feel of his mouth moving against hers, and his penis growing hard again between her legs.

Buoyed by the water, she pushed closer, her heat surrounding his, her hips gyrating softly with the motion of the bath water. She felt him growing even harder, his pulse pounding against hers. And she pulled his tongue into her mouth, sucking as she opened her legs, lifting her hips to slide down onto his hard length, taking him deep inside her.

She felt him shudder, his passion laid bare, and she marveled at the fact that she had the power to give him pleasure. And then with a groan, he started to move again, his mouth taking possession of hers, the power shifting again as his hands circled her hips, urging her onward, setting the rhythm for their passion.

As the steam and water caressed them, they moved together, lost in each other’s arms, their passion this time going deeper—the physical joining less important than the binding of their spirits. Hannah was aware enough to know that they were crossing into uncharted territory, and that there would be no going back, but as the power of their lovemaking swept her away, she was certain that she didn’t care.

Wherever they ended up—the journey was going to be worth it. Something she could never regret. Harrison had said that it was important to have faith. But maybe the simple truth was that you just had to hold on to each other and take the leap.

She closed her eyes and let sensation take over. And there was nothing but the feel of their bodies moving together—their hearts beating in tandem. The two of them becoming one. And in that moment, Hannah knew that she was falling in love.

Harrison woke to a tangle of sheets, Hannah’s body pressed against his, one leg thrown possessively across his thigh. For a moment, he simply lay listening to the sound of her breathing, content to be close to her. They had made love more times than he’d have thought himself capable of. Her nearness seemed to inspire him to greater and greater heights. The chair. The bathtub. The floor and the bed. So many surfaces, so little time.

The thought sobered him. And reflexively, he pulled her closer. She murmured something, and for a moment, he feared he’d awakened her, but then with a little sigh, she burrowed her nose into his neck, and her breathing grew even again. Her absolute trust was humbling. And he prayed that he would live up to it.

Loving was a scary thing. And yet, he couldn’t imagine going back. Hannah was as much a part of him as breathing. There was no life without her. And the idea both elated and frightened him. He wasn’t the kind of man to enter into anything halfheartedly. But he was also astute enough to know that there would be challenges ahead.

She was a strong-willed woman. And he suspected she’d never shared her life with anyone. At least not on this level. Hannah had found safety in solitude. And yet, clearly, she’d decided to let him in. His body reacted to the thought, her trust more of an aphrodisiac than any physical attribute.

He considered waking her, but decided against it. It had been a long night and she deserved to sleep, but just as he was pulling away, her eyes flickered open, and she smiled—reaching for him, her legs opening as she pulled him on top of her. And with his heart full to bursting, he entered her, feeling her contract around him in welcome.

It was like coming home. And Harrison wondered at the miracle that had brought him to A-Tac—to Hannah. And then, she started to move as instinct and passion took over, his hands moving over her body, memorizing every curve, every muscle.

He kissed her lips, her shoulders, her breasts, and her belly. And then when he would have moved to kiss the heat she carried between her legs, she broke free, sliding
down between his legs instead, her mouth closing over the throbbing head of his penis, the sensation of her hot, wet mouth almost his undoing.

Grasping the base, she began to move her hand slowly as she sucked deeply, the warm embrace sending shards of fire piercing though him. At first she moved languidly, tasting him—savoring him. And then her fingers began to move faster, pulling up and then down, her mouth taking him deeper, her tongue moving in circles as she sucked, the rhythm growing stronger until he was so hard he thought he might burst.

Then she slid upward again, her body pressed against his, and he flipped them over as she opened her legs, and in one swift move, he was inside her again. And for a moment, they were both still, reveling in the heat of their connection. And then, impatient, she began to move, a mewling sound coming from deep in her throat as he thrust deeper and deeper still.

“God, Harrison, I didn’t know it could be like this,” she breathed, arching her back as she struggled to take even more of him. And he was lost. Everything about her was beyond anything he’d ever dreamed.

She was fierce and strong and loyal and utterly amazing.

He drove deep and then let go. The sensation of their movement overwhelming all other senses. Need combined with desire to ratchet his excitement higher—his body feeling as if it might burst at any moment. And he found himself praying for release. Wanting it. Craving it. Knowing that only Hannah could take him there.

As if sensing his need, Hannah moved faster, rising to meet his thrusts, her hand closing around the base of
his penis, the rhythm of her hand matching the rise and fall of their bodies. For a moment, he was suspended in space, and then the world split into blinding particles of light, and he had the thought that this was it—that moment when everything came together.

When everything was perfect.

And suddenly—as he drifted back to earth—he was terrified.

But then she was there, her head on his chest, her fingers linked with his, her heart beating steadily against his side. And Harrison surrendered to her strength, knowing that for the moment at least, everything was right with his world.

Hannah awoke to the smell of bacon and an empty bed. The night came back in a rush, and despite the horror hanging over them, she smiled. Last night had been wonderful. And she intended to hold on to the feeling as long as possible. After a quick shower, she pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, reaching for her glasses and then ignoring them. It wasn’t as if she needed them to see.

And maybe it was time to stop hiding.

Still smiling, she took the stairs two at a time, slowing only as she approached the kitchen, feeling a lot like a schoolgirl, her nerves fluttering in her stomach.

“Good morning,” Harrison called, as he expertly flipped a pancake in the frying pan.

“I thought you said you ran to take-out menus,” she said, shaking her head as he poured more batter into the pan.

“I’m not big on grocery shopping,” he shrugged. “But as long as there’s food in the larder, I’m actually a pretty good cook. A man’s got to eat, after all.”

“Apparently a lot.” She laughed, her gaze moving to the enormous spread of food already on the breakfast bar. Scrambled eggs, bacon, fresh-squeezed orange juice, and a tower of pancakes. “Are we expecting company?”

He scooped the pancake from the pan, adding it to the stack. “What can I say? I’m a growing boy. And after last night, I’ve worked up quite an appetite. And I figured you might be hungry, too.”