Fired Up (Dreamlight Trilogy #1)(36)
Author: Jayne Ann Krentz

24

THE ANTICIPATION THAT HAD BEEN SIMMERING DEEP INSIDE him since the moment he had plucked her name out of J&J’s secret files flared into fierce exultation.

He pulled her close, hard and tight against him, and savored the thrill of the kiss. Chloe responded with a red-hot hunger that ignited his senses. She was vibrant, supple, eager; shivering with excitement. Her lips opened for him. Her hands wrapped around his neck.

She returned the kiss with passion but there was an unexpected awkwardness about the embrace. It dawned on him that she was no more accustomed to this kind of intense urgency than he was. They were both headed into unfamiliar territory, taking the leap together.

He was sure that he had experienced his share of good sex. But it was shatteringly clear to him now that he had never been truly, deeply satisfied the way he was going to be tonight. He understood what had been missing in his previous relationships. This sense of bone-deep connection, of elemental recognition, was intoxicating.

He captured her face between his hands and managed to free his mouth for a moment.

“Well, damn,” he said softly. “It’s all true.”

“What’s true?” she asked softly. Her lips were wet and full and her eyes a little unfocused.

Like a woman in a trance, he thought. A really good trance.

“The legends and myths, the rumors and whispers that you hear in the Society,” he said. “For years I’ve listened to other talents talk about what it’s like when the energy between two strong sensitives is right. I’ve never really believed it.”

“Oh, those rumors.” She gave him a slightly dazed smile. “Personally I’ve never believed those tales, either. Not until now.”

He kissed her throat. “Think maybe we’ve been missing something?”

“I think so.” She sank her teeth lightly into his ear and moved her hands up under his T-shirt. “Yes. Definitely.”

The feel of her palms on his bare skin sent another rush of need through him. He reached down, seized the bottom edge of her black turtleneck and hauled the top straight up and off. He tossed it across a chair.

The dark purple bra went next. He was breathing harder now, but he had to stop for a moment in order to enjoy the sweet curves of her br**sts. By the time he was ready to move on, she had unfastened the waistband of his pants with fumbling fingers.

He picked her up and put her down on the bed. Starving for her, he ripped off his T-shirt and trousers, then lowered himself alongside her. The ancient springs groaned and the worn-out mattress sagged beneath their combined weight, but neither of them paid any attention. He knew that the fever was on both of them, heating their blood and their senses.

He rolled onto his back, taking her with him so that she sprawled on top. The warm, vital weight of her body sent another sizzle of energy through him. The ripe, compelling scent of her arousal was a potent elixir. He was sure he had never been so hard or so far into the zone of his talent.

She scrambled to rain kisses on his shoulders and across his chest. He felt her tongue on his bare skin and almost came apart right then. He got her pants down over her butt and slowed briefly to squeeze the soft, resilient globes. The only thing that stood in his way now was a tiny triangle of purple cotton. He tugged the panties lower and traced the cleft of her rear with one finger all the way down to the source of her damp heat. She gasped and stiffened briefly when he touched the small, tight bundle of nerve endings.

“Jack. I can’t stand it. It’s never been like this.”

He put her on her back so that he could get the pants and the purple cotton panties all the way off. She slipped her fingers inside his briefs and found him. He caught his breath, groaning with the effort it took to keep himself from exploding.

He got the briefs off and one knee between her legs. She reached for him, pulling him to her. He could feel her hands on his back, nails sinking in just a little. The smooth skin on the inside of her thighs was as soft and luxurious as warm cream. She was damp and hot and lush.

He wanted to spend hours exploring all her mysteries, but he knew that he could not wait, not this first time. The energy between them was too fierce, too demanding. The need to be inside her, to discover where the heady, intimate sensation would take them was an overriding compulsion.

“Yes,” she said again. Invitation, command and plea fused into the single word.

He guided himself into her. She drew a sharp little breath when he thrust past the tight, delicate muscles at the entrance, but when he tried to stop, to give her time to adjust, she closed herself around him.

“No,” she said. She watched him through half- closed eyes. “I want you inside. I want to find out how it feels.”

“So do I,” he rasped.

He covered her mouth, kissed her hard and went deep, going all the way. And then he was flying on the hot currents of sensation, and she soared with him.

When her climax swept through her a short time later, he followed her into the burning rain.

25

JACK WAS ASLEEP AND DREAMING. THE ENERGY HE WAS RADIATING wasn’t disturbing her, but there was something not quite right about it. She levered herself up on one elbow and looked down at him. He was lying on his side, facing her, the sheet pushed down to his waist. Energy stirred in the atmosphere, subtle but strong.

He had fallen asleep almost immediately in the aftermath of the profound release. That was good, she thought. The man needed to relax. But what his senses desperately required was some truly deep sleep, and that wasn’t what he was getting.

She studied the murky energy seething in the prints on the pillow. The residue of the currents was weaker now than it had been two days ago when he had walked into her office, but it was still detectable. Whatever meds he had been taking to halt the sleepwalking evidently had a long half-life. That wasn’t surprising. Traces of some strong psychotropic medications frequently remained in the bloodstream for days. It could take the body a long time to get rid of the last vestiges of particularly strong medicine. In the case of a few really potent sedatives there was occasionally permanent damage to the para-senses. She could see that Jack was recovering, however. He just needed a little more time.

She might be able to help him get the true sleep he required tonight, however.

Gingerly she put her palm on his bare shoulder. He stirred but did not awaken. Jack was into control. She was almost certain that he would not like what she was about to do. On the other hand, if the procedure worked he would get the rest he needed. She could always explain and apologize in the morning.