Chapter 9 #2
“They get refurbished and used from year to year.”
“How do you have access to this place?”
“It belongs to the Buccaneer Crew,” he said, naming one of the groups that sponsored Mardi Gras floats every year. “And I’m on the board of directors.”
Another surprise.
I’m full of surprises, he silently answered.
“Are you going to lock the door?”
“No. We might as well make it easy for Mickey to come in. But we’ll stay hidden until we get a good look at him.”
As he spoke, he strode toward a set of metal stairs.
She followed him to the top, where they stepped onto a balcony with a view of the floor below.
Behind it was an office with windows looking out over the floats.
Because they didn’t turn the lights on in the office, the only illumination came from the ceiling fixtures above the warehouse floor.
Jake took something out of a desk drawer which he slipped into his pocket.
When they sat down at the desk to eat the meal they’d brought, Rachel shuddered.
This place gives me the creeps.
The place, or the situation?
Both. She stared at the sandwich she’d unwrapped. I’m not real hungry.
But we both should eat. We’ll be in better shape if we do.
They ate part of the sandwiches and wrapped up the rest.
“Is there another way out of here, besides down the stairs we came up?” she asked.
“The balcony turns a corner. You can’t see from here, but there’s another set of stairs that leads to a back door.”
“Good. I’d hate to be trapped up here.”
“I wouldn’t have come up if that had been the case.”
She glanced at her watch. “We still have almost three hours to wait. Maybe we should . . . practice.”
He gave her a wolfish grin.
“I wasn’t thinking of that.”
It’s how we forged the link. It’s how we increased the connection.
She looked around and knew he picked up her distaste for the setting.
Okay. Not such a great place to make love. What did you have in mind? he asked.
Seeing how far away we can get from each other and still talk like this–without speaking aloud.
He looked from her to the balcony outside the office. I don’t like the idea of letting you out of my sight. Not when we don’t know when that guy will show up.
I think we’ve got plenty of time.
We don’t know for sure.
While they were talking mind to mind, she stepped out the door and onto the balcony, closing the door behind her.
Come back! He shouted inside her head.
I can still hear you.
Through the window, he glared at her.
She walked farther along the balcony and stopped about twenty-five feet from where he stood.
Now? she asked.
Not as easy.
They could still see each other. She turned her back, facing out toward the warehouse floor, where she could look down on the giant floats. Then she backed up so that her shoulders were pressed against the wall.
How about now?
Not much. He was silent for several moments, then said inside her head, Rub . . . your finger . . . across your lips.
The communication was very faint, just a whisper in her mind, but she asked, Why?
See if the physical sensation makes it easier for me to reach your mind.
Is that all you can think about, physical sensation?
Just try it.
She lifted her hand and did as he’d asked. It could have been a neutral gesture, but she focused on the sensual component.
That’s nice, Jake said, and his voice inside her head was stronger than it had been a moment ago. He must be right about the physical part.
You can feel me touching my lips? she asked.
Yes.
Then you do it, too.
She caught a flicker of male objection.
It’s okay for me, but not for you?
He made a low sound that she heard in her mind before she felt him stroke his finger against his lips. He was right. It was nice.
Open your mouth. Stroke the inside of your lips, he asked.
By now she was liking the game, and in truth, it helped ease some of the tension of waiting for the unknown Mickey to show up.
She pressed her shoulders more firmly against the wall and parted her lips, then slipped her finger inside and played with the sensitive skin.
Nice. I’d like to feel you lick your finger with that cute little tongue of yours.
My tongue is cute?
To me.
Again she followed his direction, letting the sensuality of the moment wrap around her.
Take your other hand and cup your breast, then run your fingers over the nipple.
The request brought her up sharply. No.
Why not?
That’s going too far.
You can hear me a lot better than you could a few minutes ago, can’t you?
Yes.
I want to feel your response when you touch your breasts.
She wasn’t willing to comply. Instead, she let herself focus on the physical sensations that came from him.
This is turning you on.
You know it is. You too.
It’s indecent, she protested.
Nothing we do together is indecent. Not if we both enjoy it.
She could have debated the point. Instead she stood with her eyes closed, feeling the sense of connection with Jake.
Touch your breast.
This time she let herself go with the flow, raising her hand and stroking her finger across a hardened nipple.
Her own touch sent a jolt of sensation through her. Through him, too, because she knew he felt it.
We should stop this, she said.
Stay with me.
What are you going to do, have me start taking off my clothes out here on the balcony?
We both know that’s not a good idea.
But this is? Instead of just playing, we should see if we can do something with our minds.
Like what?
I don’t know. Make something on one of the floats move. Or turn the lights on and off without touching the switch.
You want to give up this game for something constructive?
She heard the grin in his voice.
Yes. Come out here.
You’re getting ambitious. What float do you want to focus on?
I don’t know. Help me choose.
He was walking to the office door when she heard a low buzzing sound. It didn’t come from her ears. It was something Jake was hearing.