The Tao Of Sex (14 page)

He stared at her a moment, stunned by her audacity. No Chinese person would ever dare say such a thing to him. But then, Tracy wasn’t Chinese. “You know nothing of my family or my life in Hong Kong,” he said stiffly.

She shrugged. “Maybe not. But I know kids have to be pushed out of the nest eventually. Even you.”

“I am my family’s nest!” he snapped, startled by his sudden fierce anger. “Without me—”

“They’re without you right now, Nathan. How are they doing?”

He swallowed. Awful, truth be told. He had received another couple of e-mails, one from each of his siblings. Their mother was shopping again with money they didn’t have.

“Nathan? How are they doing without you?” Tracy pressed.

He sighed. “Go to the temple and find out for yourself.”

“Ha!” she crowed. “They’re doing fine, aren’t they? They’re working or going to school and so your big martyr routine is nothing of the sort.” She planted her hands on her hips, her eyes piercing even in the darkness. “So why all the way to the United States? Did you really get kicked out of the temple? Did you really fall in love?”

“Yes and yes.” He could see that she didn’t believe him. She had grown up with a loving family. She didn’t understand the emptiness of having people around, but no love. “Why do you push at me, Tracy? You have everything—a brother who adores you, a future as a great tigress. Ask me about life in the temple, ask me about what happens between partners. Those questions I can answer. They are your path, and you should want to know more about it.”

She started walking around more cars, cutting through a lane to get to the right aisle. He followed as fast as he could, but she was angry and moving very fast. “I’ll ask what questions I want, thank you very much.” She stopped abruptly beside a huge SUV and spun back to him. “What’s it going to take to convince you that I’m not a tigress? That I’m not going to your temple, that I won’t leap down whatever mystic path you think is so inevitable for me?” She straightened to her full height. “I choose my own path, Nathan. We all do. And I do not choose to be a tigress.”

He looked at her, hope surging within him despite what logic and reason proclaimed. Was it possible? Could she choose to be an amazing woman, not an amazing goddess? He wanted to believe, but his experience told him differently. “A few minutes ago, did you notice the man in the running pants as he wiped sweat from his brow? Did you see his chest muscles beneath his muscle T-shirt? And what about his legs? Were you watching the way his pants hugged tight to his bottom?”

Her jaw clenched but she ground out the words. “I saw, I noticed, but I don’t have to act on it.”

Nathan sighed. “Not today. But you will. Without training, you will act. You belong at the temple, Tracy. It’s where tigresses go.”

She glared at him; she tried to stare him down, but it didn’t work. Everything in him said she was a tigress and not someone who would ever form a lasting attachment with a man. Never. And so in the end, she curled her hands into fists and shook them impotently at her sides. “You are such a stubborn, arrogant prick! You think you know everything, and you don’t. You just don’t!” And with that she spun around and stomped away.

He was busy watching her shove her fists into her pockets, and she was busy controlling her fury. Neither of them noticed the pothole in the pavement until she had stepped in it, rolling her ankle out from under herself. He saw her hips shift as she lost her balance. With her hands deep in her pockets she couldn’t catch herself, so she fell hard against the corner of her own truck. He saw it happen, was already diving forward to catch her, but he was too late.

The side of her head caught the corner edge of her truck, knocking her in a different direction as she tumbled to the ground. While he was still a step away, she hit the pavement. Her elbow connected first, then she rolled onto her back, then her other side. He saw blood and hair whip past, but mostly he saw her face contorting in surprise and pain. Her teeth were bared and her jaw clenched. She didn’t even cry out.

And then he caught her. Her roll was nearly at an end anyway, but he still tried to cushion her body against his. “Tracy!”

She growled, deep in her throat. Oddly enough, the sound reassured him. She was still conscious.

“Take it easy,” he said. “You hit your head.” Nathan kept one hand braced on her shoulder while the other gently probed into the hair above her forehead. He felt the slick welling of blood as she flinched away.

“Ow! Stop that!” She shoved him away. “I know what happened.” She rolled smoothly into a seated position, then gingerly burrowed her fingers into her hair. The blood was already dripping down her cheek. “Perfect,” she groused. “Just perfect.”

“We should get you to a hospital.”

“Do you know what the E.R. costs?” She flinched as she looked at the blood on her hand. “It’s not that deep. Head wounds always bleed a lot.” She grimaced then wiped the blood off on her shirt before returning to probe her wound. “It’s shallow and long.”

“A hospital could stitch it up,” he said gently.

“Why? To prevent a scar underneath my hair? It hurts but it’s just a cut.” The blood still ran in long streaks down her cheek. It looked awful, but she was right. What he had felt told him the cut was not serious.

“Very well,” he acquiesced. “Give me the keys. I will take you home.”

He helped her stand, feeling the strength in her body despite the blood. As they made it to their feet, she pulled out her keys but wouldn’t give them to him. “What side of the road do they drive on in Hong Kong?” she asked.

He grimaced. “The left.”

“Then I’m driving.” She shook her head when he began to protest. “I can handle a scar under my hairline. A busted truck is something entirely different.”

“But—” he began.

“Get in the car, Nathan. I’m taking you home.”

He pressed his lips together feeling acutely useless. This entire evening had been a huge blow to his masculinity. He hadn’t been able to pay for anything; he hadn’t caught her when she’d fallen, he couldn’t even drive her home. “At least drive to your home. I can walk from there.”

She wadded up the end of her shirt, pulling it high to wipe the blood off her forehead. It smeared across her face in an ugly mess, but no new blood dripped down. They both waited, keeping the dome light on as they watched. After a couple minutes, she gently touched her hairline. “See,” she said, “it’s already stopped.”

He pulled her hand away and gently blew her hair aside. “Yeah, it looks like it’s slowing down.”

With a nod of satisfaction, she started the engine. As she drove, he watched closely for signs of distress and found nothing. Not even his sister would handle a blow to the head with nonchalance, but Tracy didn’t seem fazed.

“Quit staring. I’m fine,” she said.

“I know,” he answered. “I’m just…”

“Surprised? Don’t be. A lack of health insurance makes one a lot more casual about injuries.”

“But—”

“Leave it, Nathan. I’m fine.”

He nodded, still thrown by his uselessness and her competence. She truly was an amazing woman.

She pulled into the parking lot of his apartment building and killed the engine. “Look, I know I’m in for a rough patch, trying to control my inner tigress or whatever. But I’m willing to work at it. I’ll meditate, I’ll read whatever stuff you want me to, but you need to understand that I am in control of my destiny. I already have a plan for my life and it doesn’t include a temple in Hong Kong.”

He nodded slowly, stunned to admit that it was possible. If anyone could deny the call of the tigress, it would be Tracy. She had that much strength of will. With the right training, it was possible. She could choose her path rather than let her inner passions drive her destiny.

“Okay,” he finally said. “You win. I will give you what guidance I can.”

She smiled brightly at him. “I knew you’d come around eventually.”

“I have another book upstairs for you. Do you want to wait while I get it?”

She frowned and wiped at her forehead again. “Actually, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll come up with you and use your bathroom. I feel like a disgusting mess.”

“No,” he answered honestly. “You are beautiful.” Then he got out of the truck and rushed around the side to help her out of the cab. Too late. She was already out and wondering what was taking him so long. He smiled. “More than beautiful,” he murmured. “Much, much more.”

TRACY LOOKED IN NATHAN’S bathroom mirror and gasped. She’d known there was a lot of blood, but she hadn’t expected to look like a horror-flick victim. Her knees weakened, and she was grateful for the support of the bathroom counter. More important, she was thankful for Nathan’s steady presence on the other side of the door. Even her big strong brother tended to freak at the sight of blood, but Nathan had been a calm, reassuring presence that helped her move from bravado into strength.

She leaned forward and tried to part her hair. It was a gory mess. Careful probing told her that she had a nice-sized lump, but the cut had already closed. Unfortunately, the blood had matted her hair. She knew from experience that the sooner she washed it out, the better all around.

She grimaced as she thought of her options. Despite her bravado, she wasn’t really ready to go home to an empty house. She wanted to stay with Nathan. Maybe she could get him to open up more about his family. There was so much she wanted to learn about the man completely outside of tigress training. She’d brought up her duffel bag, so she had a change of clothes. Making a swift decision, Tracy opened the bathroom door and called to Nathan.

“Do you mind if I just shower here? I don’t think anything short of that is going to help.”

He was at his bookcase, flipping through a stack of books, presumably for her to read. He looked up and smiled, making her stomach do a little flip-flop. “Whatever you need.”

He meant it in more ways than one, and she felt a shiver of warmth course down her spine. If they could just get past this tigress stuff, there was so much potential between them. She smiled in return and then ducked back into the bathroom, quickly stripping out of her clothing. A quick shower, some tea and then they could talk.

The water felt hot on her skin, but so welcome. She went slowly, using very little of his generic shampoo and being careful with her wound. But before long, that was done and she gave herself up to the relaxation of hot water sluicing down her body.

She heard a noise. Glancing through the semi translucent curtain, she saw the bathroom door crack open. It was Nathan. She could see his outline clearly, but she didn’t turn to look directly at him. Now that she thought about it, he might have been calling her for a while, asking if she was okay, but she’d been so involved in the simple joy of hot water that it hadn’t registered.

She stole another glance at him. His expression looked tortured. Now there was a man struggling with his inner nature. She’d been up close and personal with her brother’s adolescence, and she knew the look of a man in lust. He wanted her. That had never been more apparent. Even through the curtain, she could see that his fingers where white where they gripped the door. But he constantly held himself apart, throwing his tigress stuff at her as a way to keep himself distant. She knew it, and it frustrated her. The question was: how could she get him to move beyond it?

Her answer was a cheap trick, but she couldn’t resist. He wanted to watch her? Fine. She would give him a show. She began by raising up her arms to rinse out her hair. Her breasts lifted up to the ceiling, and she knew he could see them tightening in desire. Then she watched out of the corner of her eye for his reaction.

He started to back away, but stopped. As if he couldn’t help himself, he let go of the door and allowed it to swing slowly back open. Then he just stood there and watched—clearly mesmerized.

Tracy smiled. She had him now. Grabbing the soap, she extended one leg to the lip of the tub. It was easy to soap between her toes then slowly draw the bubbles up her ankle and over her calf. What wasn’t so easy was to concentrate on a seduction without getting worked up herself. She’d never done anything like this before, even in fantasy.

But the idea that Nathan was watching her—was unable to stop himself from watching her—gave her new boldness. And that made her feel all the more sexy as she slicked her way up over her knee to her thigh. Her breath shortened, and her thighs trembled. But most of all, her brain froze with shock at what she saw Nathan doing. It was enough to have her drop the soap with a loud clatter.

His gaze was fixed on her, but his hand wasn’t idle. She couldn’t even tell if he was aware that he’d popped open the clasp to his pants and reached inside. He was stroking himself! Right there as he watched her.

She licked her lips, incredibly turned on. Her chest started tingling and she found to her own amazement that her hand had slipped between her legs. Oh, wow did it feel good. She touched herself, but kept her eyes on him. He had pulled himself out and was fully exposed. She was even able to time her motions with his.

She was nearing the edge. She was close to coming, but she didn’t want to do it alone. She wanted him, and more important, she needed him to acknowledge that he wanted her—as a girlfriend, a lover, whatever. She craved that acknowledgment. So she abruptly turned and shoved the curtain sideways, facing him dead-on. The water hit her shoulder, and she slammed it off with an impatient gesture. But her gaze remained on him where he stood frozen, his pants by his ankles, his penis in his hand.

“You want me,” she said, her voice deep and throaty.

“Yes.”

“And God knows, I want you right now.” She stepped out of the tub, her breasts bobbing and dripping. His eyes fastened there as she touched his forearm. Water slid from her arm to his wrist, his hand, his cock. “Let me,” she whispered as she licked her lips. Without waiting for his answer, she slipped her hand to his wrist then burrowed into his palm. She accidentally scraped her nail against his smooth tip and he sucked in his breath in shock. She did it again, and his fingers spasmed open.

It was better than she imagined. Thick, pulsing and hot enough to burn her hand. He groaned as she fondled it, stroking from tip to base. She was so engrossed in gripping him, in pushing back the layer of foreskin to the hungry mouth, that she was surprised to feel his hand slip between her legs.

She trembled in reaction, her gasp cutting off as he slid between her folds. But for once, she wasn’t going to be distracted. The whole problem was that he was willing to give but not receive. That was one way he kept his distance from her. So she shouldered his arm aside and dropped to her knees before him.

Finally, she got to taste! It was different than she’d expected. Salty, hot and large—yes. Those things she had read about. But he was also throbbing with energy. Like what he had done to her breasts in her kitchen, his cock felt larger than its physical space. When she licked it, she tasted his skin, but she also felt the pulse of energy flowing from him into her tongue.

It was bizarre, but it felt fabulous. He tasted like life, and she wanted more of it. She did everything she had read about and more. She licked; she nipped; she engulfed and sucked and swallowed. He put up a weak protest at first. His hands were on her shoulders, and he murmured, “We can’t.”

She didn’t bother responding because obviously they could. She could. And when his hands shifted from a gentle push away to a hard grip, she knew he was getting close. The power that she stroked was closer, too. It was swelling in her mouth and mind. She could feel it tingling all the way through her spine, and she loved it.

“Tracy…” he gasped. “Tracy!”

She liked the sound of her name cried like that. She had one hand cupping his balls, the other slid around to his tight tush. She felt everything in him clench. It was time, and she was more than eager. With a deep pull, she felt him release. His body pumped; his semen erupted, but that was nothing compared to what she felt in her mind. It was as if her head had been engulfed in an explosion of power. It was thick; it was potent and it was all Nathan.

She felt his strength in the pure white light of it, his passion in the heat that burned through her. But underneath the explosion, she felt his quiet loyalty to those he cherished, and the sweet essence that was all him. She absorbed it all, savoring every sweet, salty taste.

And when it began to fade, she felt him drop to his knees before her. “Tracy,” he whispered. “I can’t refuse you anything. God, why can’t I say no to you?”

She didn’t know, and she didn’t care. Instead, she kissed him, putting all her joy into that connection. Did he feel it? Did he know what he had given her? There wasn’t time to ask as she felt him slide his hand between her thighs. She was wet and willing there, but mostly she was too dazed from his energy to fight.

“Use it,” he whispered to her. “Combine my yang with your yin. Feel how potent it can be.”

She didn’t understand his words. She never did when he said stuff like that, but why ruin the moment with questions? Her hands were on his chest, but now she slid them higher onto his shoulders. She needed to be steadied as his fingers began their work. He slipped inside her with one finger while his thumb slid upward. His movements were quick—abrupt even—and she gasped, her bottom tightening in startled reaction. She bucked away from him, but he didn’t let her escape.

He pursued her, pushing a second finger deeper inside that he wiggled in a pattern she didn’t understand. But wow, did she feel it, especially as he began a long circle with his thumb. Her legs trembled. It was a good thing she was already on her knees or she would have fallen.

Then he twisted his head, taking her mouth with a fierce, possessive kiss. He thrust his tongue inside her while his fingers stroked in their own rhythm. In and out they slid, coiling and swirling against her internal walls in a way that only he understood. Her body bucked, thrusting against him harder and harder. She provided the force; he held the pattern—in her mouth, deep inside her belly, and then finally with his thumb against her clit.

Her climax roared through her. It began deep like the pierce of a burning arrow, but then it flew upward, flame searing up her spine and through her mind. With a single breath, she was wholly engulfed. And then it kept going. Up, up, up, her climax continued to expand, taking her mind and soul with it. She knew nothing but its heat and the joy that it brought.

She began to hover, still expanding, but not quite so rapidly. And in that moment of suspended breath, she felt Everything. Everything was warm like a velvet womb. Everything was alive with the pulsing beat of a heart—two hearts? A thousand million hearts? All totally suffused in love. Everything smelled like rich fertile earth and tasted like spring air after a rain shower. Everything was completely and totally wonderful!

Tracy breathed deeply, wanting to draw all of Everything inside herself. It took only a moment before she realized that she already was Everything. And what she was—what Everything was—was love. Pure, beautiful, pulsing with clarity, absolute love. She was accepted; she was perfect. Better yet, she was accepting of everything else—imperfect or perfect or perfectly imperfect. The logic of it didn’t matter. The internal voice of her mind, the part of her that constantly quantified and defined and explained faded away. And in the silence, Tracy knew total love.

NATHAN HELD HER AS SHE screamed in her climax. Her body arched, everything fully contracted before shuddering in wave after wave of ecstasy. He kept it going as long as he could, intensifying the rhythm though she tried to pull away from him. He wanted her to feel, to fly, as long as possible. He wanted to give her that gift.

And then her cry stopped on a gasp. She was arched in full extension, her belly rippling and contracting about his fingers. But her breath abruptly stilled to short breathless pants.

He stared at her, seeing her frozen state and yet feeling her still gripping his fingers in the steady pump of orgasm. It wasn’t possible. She couldn’t be in a tigress trance, could she? And yet, the sight was unmistakable.

Tracy was ascending to heaven right this moment, and he felt a burst of fierce pride at her accomplishment. But that was quickly followed by a moment of sheer panic. She was in a trance while kneeling on a bathroom floor. A tigress in full ascent was not aware of anything beyond the blessings of the divine. She had no control of her body, was not even aware that it existed. He would have to hold her gently throughout her trance. But they were on cold tiles. Water was everywhere. And he—idiot that he was—had his pants still down by his ankles.

She needed to be lying down. She was to be kept warm and protected because a trance could last hours. But how? The scrolls said it was dangerous to disturb a tigress in such a state. He might be able to support Tracy’s body for a few hours, but he couldn’t guarantee it. And what if she took a chill? He had to get her to a bed and wrap her in dry towels.

As gently as possible, he withdrew from where her yin pump continued to pulse. It was as strong as when she’d first convulsed, and he repressed a groan of regret. How he wished he could be with her at this moment, his dragon deep inside her. They could fly together to the immortal realm. But that of course was not his path.

First thing he did was kick out of his pants. It was awkward and difficult with his other hand still supporting her body, but he managed it. Then he shifted her gently into his arms. She went easily, her body becoming lax except for the continuing contraction of womb and belly. He could feel the steady ripple where her abdomen pressed against him.

He lifted her slowly, doing his best not to break her meditative trance. It was difficult and took a lot of steady strength, but thankfully he had lifted many heavy things in his lifetime: firewood, buckets of water, even sick women—but none as precious as a tigress in full trance.