I answered by pulling his mouth to mine.
His lips were soft, but his hands were demanding as they found bare skin under my sweater. “I’ll try to be gentle, but I won’t feel like myself until I’m deep inside you and feel you come around me.”
As always, his words shot through me and quickened my breathing.
I parted my lips, and his tongue found mine. I shifted to straddle his lap. As I stroked him through his jeans, he became as hard as a rock. He tangled his hand in my hair and eased my head back to kiss my throat and neck, taking his time. One hand unclasped my bra, and he played with my sensitive breasts as I squirmed against him. He bit the side of my neck. My breath became ragged as my need to be naked grew.
“Take my clothes off,” I said.
I raised my arms, and he lifted off my bra and sweater in one move, other than over my cast where it caught briefly. His shirt followed. I slid my hands across his chest and toned muscles. He lay back on the couch with me on top of him, his lips on mine. We were like teenagers, half-clothed, making out on the couch. He caught my face in his strong but gentle hands and cradled it as he kissed me until my toes curled.
Breaking off our kiss, we removed the rest of my clothes. He watched, but made no move to undress. I tugged him to his feet and unbuckled his belt while I kissed his chest and down his solid abs. His ribs were prominent, too. I kissed each one. When we were both naked, I had a moment of shyness, but when his arm wrapped around me and tugged me against him, it was both intense and comfortable.
I stopped feeling self-conscious about my battered body. We kissed again for a long time, our hands exploring each other for every familiar favorite place, cataloging every change as he learned where was sensitive. He touched my bruised ribs with gentle fingertips.
I pushed him to a sitting position on the edge of the couch and knelt between his knees.
“Can I please?” I looked up at him.
“God yes,” he said with a grin.
With one hand, he held my hair back to keep it out of the way. A stream of curses erupted as I started. I’d even missed his foul language. After teasing him long enough that we were both focused only on pleasure, he spread a blanket on the floor.
As he wound me tighter and tighter, I became frantic for him, more frenzied than usual. I ached for him all over. Every part of me needed his touch. My breasts pushed against him in desperation, and so did my hips. My fingers dug into him, encouraging him to need me the way I needed him. His eyes and mouth and hands showed me we agreed. At last, I broke away and lay back on the floor. I cried out with our love-making’s perfection. Our kiss matched the rhythm of our hips as we unraveled together.
I’d missed this closeness. I’d missed Christopher. Our worries disappeared in our ecstasy. There came a point where we no longer felt like two separate beings, but became one. I didn’t know where he started and I finished. With my mind wide open, I sensed his wonder and joy at us being together.
After a quiet evening with our food delivered, we watched a movie, a normal evening. When it was time for sleep, we curled up in our bed, wrapped in each other’s arms. Our problems weren’t solved, but when we had each other, it was easier to believe we’d get through them. This was a respite, a chance to heal and regroup. Eric was still at large, and Brandon needed the antidote. But tonight, we were with each other and safe.
. . .
We had a week to recuperate. On Friday morning, Andrew video called.
“You’re looking better. I wanted to let you know we took your advice and hired the Wilsons to find Eric. The department was desperate to get this solved and had to admit we were at a standstill.”
“They should have results when nobody else could.” The sound of my voice almost surprised me.
“They want more information from you,” said Andrew. “Even if you haven’t spent time with Eric here, you know him better than anyone else. They’re compiling questions for you. Everyone wanted to give you two a few days to recover. It’s been tough lately. I called to see if you’d be up for their questions. You don’t love talking to strangers, but I hoped that this wouldn’t be a problem.”
“They aren’t strangers anymore. I like Luke and Ella,” I said. “I’ll help, especially if it puts Eric behind bars.”
Christopher was quiet while we ate breakfast. He must have something on his mind, and I didn’t think it was Luke and Ella. We’d talked about the Wilsons and he wanted to meet them. He didn’t remember them from the night of the rescue, but from his questions, the invisibility cloak intrigued him.
“There’s something I need to do this weekend,” he said as we cleaned up.
He looked more like himself this morning than he had all week. Regular meals and proper sleep had filled out his face, so it wasn’t so sharp. We’d taken the time to eat, sleep, and exercise; trying to return to a normal regimen.
“What’s that?” I said. From the way he set his mouth in a line, it was something unpleasant.
“I need to talk to my brother,” he said. “Whether he’s interested in talking to me or not. They shut Real Tech down, but he needs to make more of the antidote. Brandon can probably get equipment, but not supplies, so I’m going to force the issue.”
“He’ll need real venom; he no longer has access to the synthetic kind. It’s the key ingredient of the antidote. I’d learned that much from his research notes.”
Christopher grinned as he shoveled another massive piece of maple syrup-drenched buttery pancake into his mouth. He held up the hotel vouchers from Reno for a free stay. I hadn’t seen them in months.
“We wouldn’t want these to expire, would we? Road trip anyone?”
I laughed. “Have you talked to Mr. Jacobs?”
