Sizzle and Burn (The Arcane Society #3)(48)
Author: Jayne Ann Krentz

Just a dream, you idiot. Get over it. You can handle this. You’ve done it before. What are you complaining about? You didn’t expect to get any sleep at all tonight, anyway.

He glanced at the clock. Two forty-five. He had gotten a whole hour and a half of rest. The trouble was, he felt worse now, more wired than if he had just stayed awake.

The herbal tisane had worked but not for long. He really hated the damn dreams.

A pale, ghostly figure materialized in the doorway.

“Zack?”

He could deal with the sight of her standing there in the opening, looking ethereal and untouchable as hell, just pretend it was another vision, an antidote to the images of death. But the sound of her voice was too much for his already wired senses.

“I’m all right,” he said, aware of the harshness in his own words. “Go back to bed.”

“I heard you through the wall. You called out.”

“Just the usual junk dreams.”

“Zack—”

“I don’t want to play cards, damn it. Go back to bed. Now.”

Great. He was snapping at her like a dog with a sore paw.

She walked into the room, came to a halt directly in front of him and put her arms around his neck.

“I don’t want to play any more games, either,” she said. “I realized that tonight when I watched you almost get killed.”

“Raine.” Violent desire slammed through him. “Please don’t do this. Not unless you really mean it. I don’t need your sympathy.”

She kissed him, not a gentle, soothing, reassuring kiss. This was a full-on, pull-out-all-the-stops, openmouthed kiss, letting him know that she wanted him, just as she had wanted him the other night in Shelbyville.

Sensual energy—normal and paranormal—flared, wild and hot. He was swept up in a whirlwind. The force of it obliterated the ghastly visions of the nightmare, at least temporarily.

Temporarily was good enough for now.

He dragged her down onto the bed, getting her under him where he needed her to be. Her foot glided along the side of his leg. He got a grip on the front of the prim, white cotton nightgown, intending to peel it off her but somewhere along the line he heard buttons pop and fabric rip.

The front of the gown was suddenly open down to her waist and that was a very good thing. He found her br**sts and feasted on them, enveloping himself in the heat of her body and her scent.

He reached down, discovered that the inside of her leg was even warmer and softer than her br**sts. He moved his hand upward along her thigh. The nightgown crumpled and gave way beneath the relentless onslaught.

When he found her hot core with his fingers she made an urgent little sound. He felt her nails on his back beneath the damp T-shirt, scoring his skin. Come morning he would be wearing her marks. The knowledge sent another wave of raw lust through him.

His briefs could no longer contain his erection. She took one palm off his back and wrapped it around him. It felt good to have her touch him so intimately but he needed to be closer, needed to be inside her.

She opened herself to him, welcoming him. When he entered her she was still a little dry and very tight. He groaned and started to retreat but she wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him deeper. He started to thrust, hard and fast, unable to hold back.

“Raine.”

“Yes,” she whispered, clutching at him. “Yes, it’s okay. I want you inside me like this.”

His release crashed through him almost immediately. The heavy waves washed away the nightmarish images and the edgy energy that had fed on them.

The cleansing climax seemed to last forever. When it was over he collapsed onto the pillows beside Raine, utterly exhausted. He knew she hadn’t come, wanted to make it right. But he was so damn tired.

She kissed him gently. “Go to sleep.”

He was vaguely aware of her reaching down to pull the covers up over both of them. The last thing he remembered was the feel of her arm sliding around his waist.

He slept.

Thirty-seven

He opened his eyes to a damp, gray dawn, feeling relaxed and refreshed. Beside him, Raine stirred.

“Who was Jenna?” she asked gently.

The relaxed, refreshed sensation evaporated in a heartbeat. For a couple of seconds he debated lying to her. But he hadn’t lied to her yet. He did not want to start now. She had a right to know.

“My fiancée.” He put his forearm over his eyes. “She died a year ago.”

Raine touched his arm. “I didn’t realize. I thought…never mind. I’m so sorry.”

He uncovered his eyes and turned his head on the pillow to look at her.

“How do you know about Jenna?” he asked.

“You called out her name while you were dreaming. That’s what brought me to your room to see if you were all right.”

He winced. “I was afraid of that. Jenna got mixed up with a dream about Lawrence Quinn.”

“That explains it.”

“Explains what?”

“When you shouted her name my first thought was that Jenna, whoever she was, might be one of the bad guys you tracked in the past. I didn’t realize she was someone close to you.”

He looked straight up at the ceiling, knowing he was going to tell her everything.

“A year and a half ago Jenna and I were introduced by the matchmakers at www-dot-arcanematch-dot-com. It’s a matchmaking agency run by the Society to help members find mates. Relationships can be tricky for people with strong psychic natures.”

“I’ve noticed that,” Raine said drily.

“According to arcanematch, Jenna was the perfect woman for me. And, damn if it wasn’t true.”

Raine said nothing. He sensed her withdrawing a little, pulling back into her safe zone.

“Jenna was very beautiful,” he said, determined to plow on to the end now that he had started. “But she was so much more than merely beautiful. She was smart. Well educated. She seemed to know what I wanted even before I knew it myself, in bed and out.”

Raine tugged the sheet up to her chin. “I see.”

“She charmed my family and my friends. She could be sexy or sultry or glamorous or playful, depending on my mood. She enjoyed the same things I enjoyed from music to food to vacations. We never argued. We laughed at the same things. She never complained when I was obsessed with a case for days or weeks on end. She was always—”

“Perfect,” Raine supplied neutrally.

“Yes. She and my mother planned the perfect wedding together. And the perfect honeymoon. I told myself that I should be the happiest man on the face of the earth. But I wasn’t.”