Sanctuary

Chapter Twenty-Three #2

“Good.” He relaxed his hand, brushed it over her cheek. Another moment stolen, he thought when her eyes opened and met his. “I’d hate to have to argue with you when I’m still wanting you. Give me more, Jo Ellen.” His mouth lowered to tease her. “Don’t make me take it this time.”

Her arms lifted, wrapped around him. “I’m so afraid of you.”

“I know. Give me more anyway. Take a chance.”

His mouth stayed gentle, waiting for hers to answer, then to demand. He wanted more, much more, than that rough and edgy release they’d offered each other. More than the animal lunge of hot blood. When she sighed out his name he knew he had the beginnings of it.

Her mouth grew more hungry, her hands began to roam.

Fresh need built in her quickly, as though it had never been met.

She craved the taste of his skin and took her mouth on a journey over his face and throat.

With a murmur of approval, she rolled with him until she stretched across his body with the freedom to do as she pleased.

The wind kicked, rattling the screen door on its hinges. The house shuddered beneath them. In contrast they moved slowly, almost languidly. Touch and taste, sigh and murmur. She lost herself in the easy sway of it, the shift and glide of bodies, rhythms set and matched.

She thought she could float over him, inch by inch, and wonder as she set each separate muscle to quivering.

He eased her back, sitting up to slide her into his lap. It was tenderness he needed for both of them now, to soothe the pain already suffered. And the pain yet to come.

Their eyes held as he lowered his mouth to hers, took the kiss deep, gradually deep so that the warmth from it flushed over her. The intimacy of it shimmered through her. She might have resisted, she lifted a hand to his chest as if to do so. But her limbs went limp, and she was lost.

And she gave him more.

It was surrender he wanted, for both of them. His and hers. A yielding. Soft, liquid kisses filled them both, nudged them lazily toward excitement. When he cupped her, her moan was quiet and ended on a little gasp of pleasure. He took her up slowly so that the orgasm was long and sleek.

They each trembled, and when she reached for him, thrilling to find him hard and ready, her lips curved against his.

“Again,” she murmured. “Just like that. Again.”

The pleasure rolled through her, layer by layer to whirl in her head like wine. Still shimmering from it, she shifted, until her body was over his and the thick beat of his heart was under her mouth.

“I love what you can do to me.” She slid down, spreading light, open-mouthed kisses down to his belly. “I want to know I can do it to you.”

His skin quivered when she closed that hot, generous mouth over him. Dark pleasure blurred his vision, and the roar in his head drowned out the rain. She drove him to the brink, where he clung to pleasure and control and sanity only by slippery fingertips.

She rose up over him, her body glimmering in the murky light. She lowered to him, took him in, arched back, took him deeper. Her arms lifted up, folded behind her head as if in triumph. Her eyes met his, stared intently into that smoky gray as she began to move.

Slowly, torturously. And her body shivered when his hands closed hard and possessive over her breasts. Smoothly, silkily. His breath caught and strangled as she braced her own hands on his chest.

Her head fell back, her body going arrow-taut and her muscles clamping hard around him as she rode herself to peak.

Yet even as her heart tripped, her brain staggered, her system revved greedily for more.

She couldn’t bear it, couldn’t stop it. Her body drove, forward, back, racing for new pleasure.

Sweat dewed her skin. When he levered himself up to surround her nipple with his mouth, he tasted salt and heat. She came again, crying out in shock and near panic. Holding tight to her, he let go of the edge and took them both flying.

Her lungs were burning, her throat dry as dust. She tried to swallow, then gave up and dropped her head on his shoulder. When her ears stopped ringing, she heard the silence.

“It’s stopped raining.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

With a laugh she nearly managed to take a full breath. “We’re going to have a hell of a time explaining these rug burns.” Enjoying the sensation, she ran her hands over his damp back. “I need about a gallon of water.”

“I’ll get it.”

“Okay, I’ll wait right here.”

“Though it pains me to admit it, I think I’m a little too weak as yet to cart you over to the sink.” He shifted her weight and grinned as she rolled limply onto the rug.

He got up to fill a glass, then stopped and looked at her. Her skin was rosily flushed all over, her hair a tangled red halo around her face. Her mouth was soft, still swollen and slightly curved in contentment. On impulse he set the glass down and lifted his camera.

Her eyes flew open when she heard the click of the shutter. She yelped, instinctively crossing her arms over her breasts. “What the hell are you doing?”

Stealing moments, he thought. He was going to need them. “Christ, you look good.” He crouched, clicked off another shot as her eyes widened.

“Stop that. Are you crazy? I’m naked.”

“You look incredible. All rumpled and flushed and freshly fucked. Don’t cover yourself. You’ve got beautiful breasts.”

“Nathan.” She only folded her arms more protectively. “Put that camera down.”

“Why?” He lowered it but continued to grin. “You can develop them yourself. Who’s to see? There’s nothing much more artistic and visually stunning than a nude study.”

“Fine.” Keeping one arm strategically bent, she held out a hand. “Let me take you.”

“Sure.” He offered the camera, amused to see her frown of surprise.

“You aren’t the least bit embarrassed.”

“No.”

She angled her head toward the camera he still held. “I want that roll of film.”

“Well, I wasn’t planning on taking it in to Fotomat, darling.” He glanced down, checked the number of shots left. “Just one more in here. Let me take it. Just your face.”

“Just my face,” she agreed and relaxed enough to smile at him. “There. Now I want that film.”

“Okay.” He moved quickly when she lowered her arm and got off the last shot.

“Damn it, you said it was out.”

“I lied.” Roaring with laughter, he rose and set the camera on the table. “But it’s out now. I’ll want to see the contacts so I can pick out the prints I want.”

“If you think I’m going to develop that film, you’re mistaken.” She got up and grabbed the camera.

“The pictures you took of the storm are in there.” He said it with a smile on his face that widened as he saw her struggle between the urge to rip out the roll and ruin it and the need to preserve her own shots.

“That was very sneaky, Nathan.”

“I thought so. Don’t put that back on,” he said when she bent down to retrieve her shirt. “It’s still damp. I’ll get you a dry one.”

“Thanks.” She watched him walk to the bedroom, pursing her lips as she studied his tight, muscular buns. Next time, she decided as she tugged on her slacks, she’d make sure she had her own camera handy.

And with that thought in mind, she unloaded the film and tucked it into her back pocket.

He tossed her a T-shirt when he came back out, then fastened the dry jeans he’d pulled on. “I’ll walk back to Sanctuary with you. We’ll check on the status of things.”

“All right. The search parties will probably be heading out again.” She combed her fingers through her hair to untangle it. “It’s going to be a mess out there from the storm. I’d put some boots on if I were you.”

He glanced down at her olive-green sneakers. “You’re not wearing any.”

“I would if I had them handy.”

“So we’ll both get sloppy.” He took her hand and watched surprise flicker into her eyes when he lifted it to kiss her knuckles. “Then tonight, I’ll take you out to dinner.”

“Out to dinner?”

“Well, in to dinner. We’ll sit in the dining room, look at menus, order wine. I’m told people do that all the time.”

“It’s silly. I live there.”

“I don’t. I want to have dinner with you.

The kind of evening where you sit across from each other at a table, with candles in between, have conversation.

Where other people pretend they’re not watching us and thinking what an attractive couple we make.

” He picked up a ball cap from the coffee table and snugged it over her hair.

“And I can look at you all through the meal and think about making love to you again. It’s called romance. ”

“I’m not any good at romance.”

“You said that about sex. You were wrong.” He took her hand and walked to the door. “Let’s see how this works out. Maybe Brian will whip up some flan.”

She had to laugh. “People are going to think it’s pretty strange for me to take a table at the inn.”

“It’ll give them something to talk about.” Their feet squelched into the soggy ground when they reached the bottom of the stairs.

The heat was rolling back, sending the steam rising, turning the air thick. The forest looked ripe, fertile, and darkly green. Water dripped and plopped from leaves, sending fresh showers over their heads as they turned toward the river.

“Churned everything up,” Jo commented. “Water’s running high and fast. It may crest over the banks, but I doubt it’ll cause any damage here.”

She detoured for a closer look, philosophically accepting ruined shoes as she sank past her ankles in muck.

“Daddy’ll want to take a look, I imagine, but there’s not much to be done.

It’ll be more worrisome over at the campground.

The beach should be fine, though. The winds weren’t high enough to take down the dunes.

We’ll have a nice crop of shells washed up from it. ”

“You sound like your father’s daughter.”

Distracted, she looked over her shoulder. “No. I rarely give a thought to what goes on here. During hurricane season I might pay more attention to the weather reports for this area, but we haven’t been hit hard that way in years.”

“Jo Ellen, you love this place. It shouldn’t worry you to admit that.”

“It’s not the center of my life.”

“No, but it matters to you.” He stepped closer. “A lot of things, a lot of people can matter to you without taking over your life. You matter to me.”

Alarm jingled in her heart, and she took a hasty step back. “Nathan—” She nearly fell as the ground sucked at her feet.

“You’re going to end up back in the river.” He took her arms in a firm grip. “Then you’ll accuse me of pushing you in again. That’s not what I’m doing. I’m not pushing you, Jo Ellen. But I’m not going to be sorry if you slip.”

“I like keeping my feet under me, and knowing where the ground gives before I step on it.”

“Sometimes you’ve got to try new territory. This is unexplored ground for me, too.”

“That’s not true. You’ve been married, you—”

“She wasn’t you,” he said quietly and Jo went still in his arms. “I never felt about her the way I’m feeling about you, right now.

She never looked at me the way you’re looking at me.

And I never wanted her as much as I want you.

That was what was wrong with it all along.

I didn’t know it, didn’t understand how much of it was my fault until I saw you again. ”

“You’re moving too fast for me.”

“Then keep up. And goddamn it, Jo Ellen,” he said with an impatient sigh as he tipped her head back. “Give in a little.”

She tasted the impatience when his mouth met hers, and the need that went deeper than she’d allowed herself to see. The quick flare of panic inside her fought with a shiver of delight. And the warm stream that shimmered in her blood felt like hope.

“Maybe you’re not pushing.” She didn’t resist when he gathered her closer.

“But I feel like I’m sinking.” She rested her head on his shoulder, willed her brain to clear.

“Part of me just wants to let it happen, and another part keeps fighting to kick back to the surface. I don’t know which is best, for me or for you. ”

He needed that glimmer of hope, the whisper in his heart that promised if she loved him enough, if they loved each other enough, they could survive what had happened. And what was to come.

“Why don’t you think about which makes you happier instead of which may be best?”

It sounded so simple that she started to smile. She watched the river flow, wondered if it was time for her just to dive in and see where it took her. She could almost see herself riding that current. See herself rushing along it.

Trapped under the surface, staring up. Dragged down away from air and light.

The scream ripped from her throat, had her sinking to her knees before he could catch her.

“Jo, for God’s sake!”

“In the water. In the water.” She clamped a hand over her mouth to hold back the bubbling hysteria. “Is it Mama? Is it Mama in the water?”

“Stop it.” He knelt beside her, dragged her around by the shoulders until her face was close to his. “Look at me. I want you to stop it. I’m not letting you fall apart. I’m not letting it happen, so you just look at me and pull back.”

“I saw—” She had to gulp for air. “In the water, I saw—I’m losing my mind, Nathan. I can’t hold on to it.”

“Yes, you can.” Desperately he pulled her close. “You can hold on to me. Just hold on to me.” As she shuddered against him, he looked down grimly at the surface of the river.

And saw the pale ghost staring up at him.

“Jesus God.” His arms tightened convulsively on Jo. Then he shoved her back and slid heedlessly into the rising river. “She’s in here,” he shouted, grabbing on to a downed limb to keep himself from being swept clear. “Give me a hand with her.”

“What?”

“You’re not losing your mind.” Panting with the effort, Nathan reached out with his free hand and gripped hair. “There’s someone in here! Help me get her out.”

“Oh, my God.” Without hesitation now, Jo bellied up to the edge, fighting to anchor her toes in the slippery bank. “Give me your hand, Nathan. Try to hold on to her and I’ll help pull you up. Is she alive? Is she breathing?”

He’d gotten a closer look now, a clearer look.

And his stomach lurched with horror and pity.

The river hadn’t been kind. “No.” He spoke flatly, shifting his grip on the limb.

His gaze lifted to Jo’s. “No, she’s not alive.

I’ll hold on here, keep her from going downriver. You get to Sanctuary for help.”

She was calm now, cold and calm. “We’ll get her out together,” she said and stretched out her hand.