Afterlife

Page 41


“All right then. Let"s deal with that. Here"s another thing you need to know about me.”


When it came to Jon"s far-less-gentle side, she was fast learning that he gave no warning. The frost vanished, replaced by fire. Gripping her hair with both hands, he yanked her head back and set his teeth to her throat, an open-mouthed demand that had her swaying into him. One arm dropped, cinched around her waist, anticipating her jerk of surprise when he bit, suckling her hard. She closed her eyes, not wanting to think about passersby and their reaction, not wanting anything to interfere with the incredible surge of heat he sent through her body.


As he lifted his head, he pressed his lips together, obviously savoring her taste.


Raising her hand without thought, she touched them, slid her fingers over the moist, firm heat. At his pointed glance, she lifted the other hand to her throat, felt the mark he"d left there.


“Despite all sorts of spiritual perspectives I have that might make you think otherwise, I am possessive.” The flame in his eyes matched the fervor of that marking.


“But I think you already understand that. I want to be the Master of your pleasure, of your protection, of your happiness. If I determine that controlled situations where you receive pleasure from others is part of that equation, if I know that would excite and please you, then you"ll likely find yourself having that experience. But whether or not I ever agree or disagree with a fantasy you have, it will be guided by those tenets. There is nothing you can imagine that I will ever condemn or make you feel is wrong. All right?”


“All right.” She knew it would take time to believe him, because Cole"s repelled countenance was branded in her head. But hearing Jon say the words was something she"d never experienced before, so she"d accept that as a first step. She cleared her throat. “Okay. Then I admit to a deeply personal fantasy about writhing in pig entrails under a full moon.”


“You perverted freak.”


It made her laugh out loud, swat at him. She was happy to be gathered back under his arm, have him press a lingering kiss to her temple, even as he squeezed her ass, a quick admonishment. “Brat. Now tell me why you don"t like sex toy shops.” She shrugged. “Even the ones that are supposedly welcoming to women still have a cheesy, wrong-vibe feel to them. Like they still don"t quite get it, you know?”


“That"s part of why I don"t go to them. That, and I"d rather create the toys myself.”


“You should open your own store. You could call it The Toymaker.” She grinned up at him. Putting a hand on his chest, she trailed her fingertips under the neckline of the worn T-shirt, such a relaxed movement she"d done it before she thought about it.


His eyes warmed on her at the intimacy. “Though you"d probably have to have a foyer area with candy,” she added. “You know, to give to the kids who wander in, thinking it"s their kind of toy store.”


“A good idea, but unfortunately, I can"t pursue such an entrepreneurial opportunity. We"ve all pledged our eternal souls to Matt. If we try to leave K&A, we"ll explode in flames the moment we step out the revolving door in the lobby.” He kept her laughing at things like that as they continued to stroll down the sidewalk in the merchants" district, her leaning into his side, her skirt occasionally fluttering across his legs. The sun was on her hair and back, the wind ruffling through her hair, and Rachel thought she"d never felt so content in her life.


“I"ll take you to a place in Florida that"s a true women"s erotica boutique,” he said at length. “Not a storefront with fluorescent lighting and the feeling that you need a shower. The owner is a Wiccan priest.”


“Seriously?”


“You"d really enjoy him. Maybe too much. So you"d probably need to keep in mind his wife is the town sheriff.” He bumped her hip. “Justin doesn"t call it a sex shop, and that"s not pretentious semantics. It isn"t a sex shop. Eroticism is a state of being, a sacred one, that pervades the entire relationship, and he gets that, in a way you feel all the way through when you visit his place.”


She"d love to visit it with him. Travel with him. She"d also love to walk on this sidewalk with him throughout eternity, his arm around her. He stopped then, fishing in one of their bags. “Here, close your eyes. Since you"ve denied my offer to buy you tacky diamonds, I"ll give you a truffle from the shop we just visited. Part your lips, just a little.”


When she obediently closed her eyes, he teased her with it, smearing the slightly melted coating over her lip, letting her have a small bit of sweetness on her tongue.


“This is like first love,” she said, keeping her eyes closed. “Everything so vibrant and amazing, everything sensual…”


“That"s all you, sweet girl.” Putting his mouth on hers, he tasted her and the chocolate. His hand on her jaw kept her still, merely experiencing the way he did it, and when he broke the contact, she knew from the touch of his breath he was studying her face at close range, his thumb slowly moving over her cheek.


“You"re more than a dream come true,” she whispered. “I"m not sure if I was ever ambitious enough, even in my dreams, to believe in something like this.”


“Well, that makes two of us.” She heard a thickness to his voice that tightened his hold around her heart, even as his words gave her a jolt of shock. Apparently he registered that, for he gave her that reproving squeeze again, leaving his hand on her ass to stroke the most rounded part of the curve. The intimacy in such a public place, indecent enough to invite tsks but not interference, took the simmering of her blood up a notch. He was testing her, she realized. Figuring out what kind of cravings she had in small, subtle ways. Voyeurism, exhibitionism…being shared. And while he was doing that, he was engaging her emotions, like now.


“Why are you surprised by that, Rachel? You think I ever expected to find a woman with so many of the things I wanted in a relationship? Your sexual nature, your spiritual outlook, your beauty, inside and out. And some things I didn"t even realize I wanted until I started taking your class. Every week was the opportunity to learn something new about you, to see if it fit the mold. But most weeks what I learned broke it, and created an even better one.”


“You"re going to take my breath away.”


“That"s all right. You can have mine.” He slid the rest of the chocolate in her mouth, but before he could withdraw, she dared to catch his thumb in her teeth, suck the chocolate left on it, a tease from her own tongue that won her a heated glance…and another kiss.


Though last night had been all about denial, today he was so generous with his touch and kisses, gentle or demanding, or ones like now, where he coaxed her mouth open with sexy lassitude. She didn"t care who saw, didn"t even know there was anyone to see as she leaned into his body, let his arms come around her so sure and steady, so strong and right.


When at last he lifted his head and she opened her eyes again, he gave her that quirk of a smile that sent striations of light through the multi-hued blue of his eyes. “So, now that we have everything you need for tonight, are you ready for me to take you to my roach-infested house and let my dirty socks and unwashed dishes change your mind about me?”


“If you"ll show me your workshop. Geppetto.” The taunt won her an even deeper, more sexy smile. “But at some point I need to get my makeup and a few other things.”


“We"ll stop on our way to my place. I don"t want to be away from you. You"ll spend the afternoon with me and get ready at my house. All right?” She took a deep breath, trying not to think about what she was getting ready for.


“As long as you haven"t been fooling me all along and you"re really a serial killer.”


“Don"t judge. I"ve only taken out competitors who annoyed Matt.”


“Rachel, Jon. Wait up.”


As Jon turned, he recognized Sarah and Ellen from the Wednesday morning class.


The women were headed toward them, both loaded with shopping bags.


He registered Rachel"s instant tension, how she was warring with herself about whether or not to pull away from him. Of course, as smart as she was, she had to realize the women had seen them walking together like lovers. He ran a reassuring hand down her back, satisfied despite her apprehension. As much as his reluctance to share her amused and surprised him, he wanted her to be seen by those she knew, to help her get over this hurdle.


“Have you gone over to the dress shop on the corner? They are having a to-die-for sale on gorgeous shrugs. And the shoes…”


She blinked, visibly amazed as the women rattled on for several moments, the same way they would if she"d met them by herself. Sarah put a hand on Jon"s arm, closing their affectionate circle, a way of acknowledging him, even though the subject was of female significance. But after several moments, Ellen beamed at them both.


“We"ve been hoping the two of you would get together for the longest time. Every time you use Jon to demonstrate poses in class, the way you work together…” Ellen sighed. “I"ve told Sarah a hundred times, haven"t I? They are just perfect together. It"s as clear as a children"s picture book.”


Sarah jumped in then. “And my husband, Bob—you remember Bob, he came to the class that one time with me—I told him what Ellen said, and Bob said „well, isn"t she married?" I told him then I"d bet my best pair of shoes that she"s not, that she just wears that ring to keep men from hitting on her, because she"s so beautiful.” Rachel flushed, shrugging her shoulders. “I don"t know about all that, but yes, I"m not married. Not anymore.”


“Oh I always knew it, no doubt at all.” Ellen nodded. “You never talked about him.


Your husband. Whenever you talk to a wife, at some point the husband comes up in the conversation. He"s such a part of you, it"s like you"re talking about yourself.” Sarah made a noise of agreement and glanced at Jon, giving him a conspiratorial elbow. “She never did that, not in the three years I"ve been taking her class.”

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