Midnight Crystal (19 page)

His insides tightened, but he managed not to show any reaction. He climbed out of the vehicle and picked up the lamp.

“Talk about a psychic intercept,” he said. “I was just thinking about the legend, myself.”

She walked around the rear of the sled to join him. “According to the records, a physical connection is required between the man who wants to access the lamp’s power and the Dreamlight reader who assists him.”

He started toward the opening in the quartz. “You know how it is with old legends. There’s always a sexual element in the story.” He stepped through the hole-in-the-wall into the darkened parking garage. “But in this case, it’s just a myth. According to the family records, physical contact is necessary. Just touching each other is sufficient.”

“So, all we have to do is hold hands?” she asked without inflection.

“As you have just pointed out, contact enhances focus and power.”

“Yes.”

He watched her angle herself through the rip in the quartz. Silhouetted against the alien psi light spilling through the opening, she looked exotic and mysterious and so hot he was starting to sweat.

“Were you really worried that we might have to go to bed together again to make the damned thing work?” he asked.

“Of course not. I never thought that anything more than a handshake was required.” She halted just inside the garage. “Just wanted to clarify your understanding of the legend, that’s all.”

“In other words, you wanted to make sure that I wasn’t hoping to get laid again.”

“Stop putting words in my mouth.” She cleared her throat. “Some people are inclined to take old tales very literally.”

He walked forward and stopped directly in front of her, very close but not touching. Marlowe did not retreat, but he felt the rising tide of energy in the atmosphere and knew that she had heightened her senses instinctively, the way people of talent did when they felt threatened.
Or when they were aroused,
he reminded himself.

He should not be thinking about sex, but he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about it. Not just sex, but sex with Marlowe. The situation was fraught with danger and possibilities and a hell of a lot of energy.

“You make it sound like sleeping with me again would be a deeply traumatic event,” he said.

“Oh, for pity’s sake. That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Do I?”

He set the silk-wrapped artifact on the concrete floor and moved a little closer to her. The atmosphere around them shivered with heat.

“It’s been a busy evening,” she said, her voice husky and low. “Lots of adrenaline and psi going on here.”

“Like last night?”

She took a deep breath. “We probably shouldn’t discuss last night.”

“Why?”

She stared at him. “Because I’m not sure what’s happening between us.”

“And it makes you nervous?”

“Yes.” She drew another breath. “What’s going on here is probably nothing more than simple sexual attraction enhanced by proximity and the natural bonds forged between two people who have just come through a dangerous experience. In addition, you are in the middle of a major postburn buzz.”

“Like you were last night. Is that why we had sex? So you could work off the burn?”

“No.”

“Got a problem with this natural bond, mutual attraction, postburn rush we’ve got going?”

“I probably should have a problem with it,” she said. “I’m sure I’ll think of one tomorrow.”

“What about tonight?”

“No problem tonight,” she whispered.

He leaned in very close and brushed his mouth across hers. She did not try to avoid the kiss.

He kissed her again, taking it deeper, letting the heat build between them. This time she responded. Her mouth softened under his. He heard a faint cry. Not a sigh of surrender or a moan of passion. More like a half-stifled murmur of frustration, he decided. She clutched him close, demanding more.

He pulled her hard against him and kissed her until she opened her mouth for him, until her arms tightened around his neck, until her breathing was fast and shallow and she sounded desperate.

He came up for air, crouched in front of her, and pulled off first one boot and then the other, leaving her in her socks. When he rose, she gripped the lapels of his khaki shirt and started kissing his throat. Her leg hooked around his calf.

They were locked in sensual combat. He pushed up the hem of the black turtleneck and put his hands on her bare waist. Her skin was warm and supple.

He unfastened her jeans and shoved them, along with the dainty panties, down to her ankles. She kicked free of the denim.

When he felt her hands on his belt buckle, he held himself very still while she unfastened his trousers. She was exquisitely careful. She took him into her hand.

He slid his fingers through the soft triangle of curls and found her swollen core. She cried out softly when he stroked her and clenched her fingers around his shoulders.

“Nothing has ever felt this good,” he said against her throat.

“No,” she whispered. “Nothing.”

He gripped her by the waist, lifted her, and braced her against the concrete wall. She wrapped her legs around him and used her hand to guide him into her.

“Okay,” he managed, his voice hoarse with the effort it took to hang onto his control. “I was wrong. Nothing has ever felt
this
good.”

He drove into her, going as far as possible. Her legs tightened around him. So did her passage.

“Oh, Adam.”

The stunning intimacy ripped the oxygen from his lungs and dazzled his senses. He rode the crashing waves with Marlowe, each thrust taking both of them higher. He was determined that she would come first. He wanted to make sure she understood that her pleasure was his highest priority. More than that, he wanted her to realize that he could satisfy her fully. He wanted to make sure that she did not forget him, not ever. He was going to be the man she could not leave before dawn.

Her fingers sank into his shirt and the skin beneath it. He sensed the tension that tightened her entire body now. She was wound to the breaking point.

With a soft, low cry, she came undone.

The small spasms of her orgasm pulled him over the edge. He went willingly, glorying in the release. His surging climax sent another wave of hot energy through both of them.

He was distantly aware of his own long roar of satisfaction echoing off the walls, floor, and ceiling of the old garage for what seemed an eternity.

MARLOWE REALIZED THAT HER BACK WAS STILL PLASTERED against the cold wall and her legs were still wrapped around Adam’s waist. He was leaning over her, supporting both of them, his hands flattened against the concrete behind her.

In the glow of the tunnel radiation she could see that his forehead was damp with perspiration. His eyes were closed, and his dark hair was mussed from her fingers. She listened as his ragged breathing quickly returned to normal.

She let her legs slide bonelessly back down to the floor. When her bare feet touched the concrete, she discovered that the muscles of her inner thighs were trembling. She had to keep her back against the wall in order to stay vertical.

Adam raised his dark lashes and looked at her. His eyes still burned.

“This probably would have been even better if we’d made it upstairs to bed,” he said.

“Hard to imagine how it could have been improved.”

“Maybe with a comfortable mattress and a couple of pillows instead of a concrete wall. It’s the little things that add an element of romance to a relationship.”

“I’ll remember that.”

He did a small push-up against the wall that brought him close enough to kiss her again. It was a lazy, sensual kiss of pure masculine satisfaction this time, not the hot and heavy kiss that had started the encounter.

“Maybe we should consider a do-over upstairs,” Adam suggested, nuzzling her throat. “For comparison purposes.”

And then he would fall asleep and start dreaming, and her pleasant little fantasy would be destroyed, she thought. Better to end it now.

“Sounds tempting,” she said brightly. She made a show of checking her watch. “But look at the time. It’s nearly two in the morning. I don’t know what kind of hours you keep at the Guild, but J&J opens at eight.”

He nibbled on her earlobe. “You’re the boss. You get to set your own hours.”

“Uncle Zeke always told me that the boss has to set the example.”

He watched her very steadily, eyes faintly narrowed. “This isn’t about the rules at J&J. It’s about not being able to sleep with me. About being gone by dawn.”

“It’s better this way, trust me.”

“Not so sure about that.” He fastened his trousers.

She realized that her panties were still draped around one ankle. A wave of heat rose in her cheeks. Ridiculous, really, after the wild parking garage sex, she thought. But she felt frazzled and unsure of herself. Fortunately, the deep shadows hid the blush.

She stepped hastily into the panties and shimmied into her jeans. She was fastening the waistband when she noticed the lamp. She stilled.

“Adam,” she whispered.

“What?”

“The lamp,” she said. “Look at it.”

He turned to follow her riveted gaze. They both stared at the black bundle lying on the floor of the garage. A pale, paranormal light was seeping through the folds of black silk.

“What the hell?” He started toward the artifact.

“I think you lit it,” she said. “Or maybe we did just now when we . . . Oh, damn. Maybe there is some truth to that part of the legend. Sex produces a lot of strong energy.”

He stood over the black bundle. “Son of a ghost,” he said softly.

“We’ve got to shut it down.”

“Why?” He picked up the bundle. At his touch, the bundle glowed brighter. “The whole point of this exercise is to figure out how this thing works. Looks like we’ve made a good start.”

“We don’t know what we’re doing here,” she reminded him. “I need time to study the artifact. Time to do some research.”

He began to unwrap the silk cloth. “Time is one commodity we don’t have.”

“I really don’t think it would be a good idea to mess around with that thing tonight. We should come up with some sort of strategy before we tackle this project.”

“According to the records, we have to rely on our intuition, not research and strategy.”

He pulled away the last of the cloth. She saw the shudder that jolted through him when his hands came in direct contact with the artifact.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“You should feel the power in this thing. It’s incredible.”

The lamp no longer appeared solid. The strange, gold-toned metal was becoming translucent. Currents of psi shifted in the relic.

“I can feel the forces in it,” she said quietly. “I think it’s getting stronger. It’s responding to your own currents.”

“Yes.” His eyes were heating again.

“There’s too much power in that thing for one person to control,” she warned. “We know that much. You can’t do this alone.”

He held the lamp in his hands and looked at her. In the rising glow of the artifact he looked like some ancient alchemist gazing into its fires, like Nicholas Winters.

“I know I can’t handle the energy in this thing alone,” he said. “That’s why I need you. Now. Tonight.”

His voice was once again shaded with lust, but she realized that it was not sexual desire that drove him this time, rather a bone-deep hunger to control the power of the lamp. The need to manipulate the energy of the artifact was, quite literally, in his genes.

She knew then that nothing she said would convince him to try to de-rez the lamp tonight. Perhaps there was no way to stop what had been started. There was only one thing she could do now, and that was to help Adam control the device.

She crossed the short space that separated them. He used both hands to hold the lamp by its base.

“It would probably be best to have physical contact,” she said.

He said nothing, waiting for her to make the next move.

She covered one of his hands with her left palm and gripped the rim of the artifact with her right hand.

Energy slammed through her. Psychic flames flashed across her senses. The shock stole her breath for a few heartbeats, but she did not pull away.

The initial flash diminished quickly. In the next instant she was in the currents, soaring on the waves of raw power. There was no more pain, just an exhilarating sense of certainty. She knew how to do this.

Adam watched her with hot, knowing eyes.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asked. “Like the sex we just had.”

The sensation was, indeed, unnervingly akin to what she had experienced during their heated sexual encounter.