Satiny
heat slid across Lex's body from chest to feet. He inhaled Abbie’s ginger and
pumpkin shampoo. She smelled so good. She felt even better, warm and soft
tucked into his side. Cranking an eye open, he took in his surroundings.
Everything in the room was white. From the curtain hangings to the duvet to the
wicker rocking chair in the corner. On the bureau were dozens of photos. And on
the far wall, he recognized some of the photos he'd taken with Abbie.
Her
deep, even breaths told him she was still out. He couldn’t remember the last
time he’d actually slept with someone. The few times he’d tried always ended up
with a disastrous nightmare.
But
with Abbie, he’d actually been able to escape his nightmares. More like he
passed out after exhausting himself. He hadn’t slept for more than two hours at
a time in over a month. But with Abbie, all he’d dreamed about was her. Guilt
pricked at his subconscious.
He
had to deal with the Gemma situation. She’d encouraged him to go after Abbie at
the party, still he had an obligation. But it was way past time for him to
start living his life. Gemma would have to understand. And staying away from
Abbie wasn’t going to happen. It was almost as if she’d dragged him into her
gravitational orbit with her wit, strength, and beautiful smile.
He
picked up one of her slim braids and inspected the woven strands of black and
lighter brown pieces as they shimmered in the soft morning light. She shifted
in his arms, grinding her hips into his crotch, forcing a hiss from him as his
semi-hard dick sprang to attention.
As
if they were heat seeking missiles, her hips scooted back into his, and he
gnashed his teeth together, praying for control. She was so hot, so undeniably
sexy without even trying.
What
the hell had he gotten himself into? He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted
anybody in his life. But if he wasn’t careful, he’d lose her. He had too many
balls to juggle. The safest thing for him to do was to leave her alone. But he
knew he couldn’t give her up. He wanted a thousand moments like this. Mostly
because he was a selfish wanker.
She
wiggled again. Lex continued to hold her and ignored the sweet agony.
Fascinated by the contrast of his tanned hand and her smooth, gleaming, dark
skin, he stared as his thumb drew lazy patterns on her shoulder. He could
ignore it, just for the pleasure of holding her.
Ah,
who the hell was he kidding? He was moments away from waking her when she
wiggled again. He wanted her. Again. But he'd had her three times in the middle
of the night.
His
hand rested on her hip and reflexively contracted when she scooted her ass
further into his groin. He groaned. “Jesus, Abbie, I'm only so much of a
gentleman. You do that again, and I'm not going to be responsible for what
happens.”
She
giggled, and the sound was low and earthy, like she should do nothing but laugh
all the time. “If you want to pretend later that I took advantage of you in
your weakened and food-deprived state, then that's okay.”
He
grinned. “The authorities will eventually find me in here naked, half starved,
tied to the bed, and horny, very horny.”
She
turned in his arms. “Now we're talking.”
Excerpt
As
they hit the center of the dance floor closest to the DJ booth, Abbie closed
her eyes and let the music take over her limbs. Jasper mixed some unfamiliar
drum and base beats along with some mild electronica and infused them into
dancehall, rock, and popular rap songs.
The
only problem was, three women dancing together tended to attract
attention…unwanted attention.
It
wasn’t long before guys started to join them, dancing in the periphery, then
eventually sidling up close. Tamsin and Sophie welcomed the attention. Abbie
tried to focus on the music and ignore them. The first guy to slide up behind
her had her body stiffening. Immediately, she stepped forward, spun around, and
ended up on the other side of their little circle.
The
next guy tried a frontal approach. Luckily, she could see him coming and waved
him off. Maybe it was time to find Max and the other guys and sit down.
She
waved at Jasper, and he frowned but nodded his acknowledgement. Sophie and
Tamsin were too occupied to notice she’d slunk off the dance floor. On the edges
where it was darkest, she paused and searched for where the guys had gone.
“I
figured I’d try something different and ask you to dance.”
Abbie
whirled around and let out a small squeak of alarm. The muscles in her lower
belly quivered, and her breath caught. Her savior from earlier stood in front
of her, looking like a cross between an angel of mercy and the devil incarnate.
“We have to stop meeting like this,” she mumbled.
A
smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Well, there’s no rain at the moment,
so we should be safe. I trust we were able to save your camera?”
Heat
flooded her cheeks. “Yes. Thank you. Honestly that could have been ugly today.
I’m indebted.”
“How
about a dance, and we’ll call it even?”
A
dance? With him? Pressed up against… “I uh…”
“Now,
I’m not as good as you are, so you’ll need to take it easy on me.” He
outstretched his hand and waited for her to take it. He didn’t press or push,
just stood there…waiting.
Jasper
didn’t help her when he switched the track to a dancehall reggae song with a
grooving beat.
Butterflies
fluttered low in her belly. When was the last time she’d had butterflies? Unfortunately
with those butterflies also came fear. The fact was she didn’t know this guy. But, if he’d wanted to hurt you, he could
have already.
It’s just a dance. She glanced down at his hand and placed
her palm in his. Determined not to be nervous, she smiled up at him. “Hardly
seems fair. You save my life and all you get is this dance.”
He
drew her close, but not too close, keeping his hands at her waist. He waited
patiently until she looped her arms around his neck. “It’s well worth it to
me.” The low rumble in his chest as he spoke sent shivers coursing through her
body.
As
it turned out, he didn’t need any help dancing. He moved them easily in time to
the seductive beat. Abbie didn’t dare look around because she knew what she’d
find—couples pressed so close that they might as well be naked and in bed.
Dirty dancing was a requisite of dancehall music, but her partner kept a
marginally safe distance between them, figuratively if not literally, because
with every down swing of the base, their hips rocked into each other.
She
swallowed hard, but then forced her gaze up to meet his. As soon as their gazes
met, her heart rate kicked. His slate gray eyes framed by dark lashes, stayed
on hers. Nervously, she licked her lips. He stilled for just a second, causing
her to lose her footing and bringing her flush against his body.
She
froze, muscles tight. Touching wasn’t something she was used to or allowed
easily. But with him, she didn’t want to be anywhere else. He smelled of mint
and something crisp and woodsy, like he’d spent the afternoon outside on the
water. She released her strangled breath and let her body relax into his. She
felt, rather than heard, the low rumble in his throat as his chest vibrated
against hers. His warmth enveloped her, and she could tune out everything but
him. As if it were only the two of them on the edges of the dance floor.
There,
in the dark, in the arms of a relative stranger, she felt safe.
His
hands shifted on her waist so his thumbs traced her hipbones, and Abbie forgot
to breathe. Wobbly knees forced her to tighten her hold on him. As if
responding to her body’s automatic softening, her eyes dipped to his lips.
What the hell am I doing? Her brain tried desperately to take
control of the situation. But she didn’t fell like listening. For the first
time in longer than she cared to think about, she liked having someone’s hands
on her. She wasn’t afraid. Instead, she craved it, that connection. Her body
hummed with vibrant sexual energy. An energy she hadn’t felt in six long years.
There were nerves, but not from fear or trepidation. It felt good. Better than
good. It made her remember how much she needed to be touched. Or rather touched
by someone who could make her feel safe.
But
just as the last of the tension ebbed out of her body, his thumbs pressed
gently against her hipbones, moving her back several inches. He raised his
head, and they stood like that for several seconds before Abbie realized Jasper
had switched the music. Oh, God.
She’d been standing here with a total stranger, practically melting into him.
Heat
rushed to her face. “I—”
He
smiled, and she was too blinded to finish. Gently his thumbs traced across her
hipbones once more, and he let her go. “Thank you for the dance.” Then he
turned around and walked away.
A young curandera, a medicine woman, intent on uncovering the
secrets of her past is forced into a life-and-death battle against an evil
Archbishop. Set in the mystic land of Aztlan, "The Unholy" is a novel
of destiny as healer and slayer. Native lore of dreams and visions, shape
changing, and natural magic work to spin a neo-gothic web in which sadness and
mystery lure the unsuspecting into a twilight realm of discovery and decision.
PAUL DeBLASSIE III, PhD, is a psychologist and writer living in his native New
Mexico. A member of the Depth Psychology Alliance, the Transpersonal Psychology
Association, and the International Association for Relational Psychoanalysis
and Psychotherapy, he has for over thirty years treated survivors of the dark
side of religion.
