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A wonderful, wonderful complement to his more, um…activebedroom talents. The latter left me blissfully tired and oh-so satisfied, while the former proved how deep his love went.
Not that I needed the reassurance. Not after what we’d gotten up to a week earlier, when a few innocent kisses led to a raging inferno in which we’d gone at it on all fours, followed by—
I blushed just thinking about it.
We’d both sworn to take our time settling into a new normal after the whirlwind of the past weeks. Nash had been especially sensitive about not pressuring me into taking the next logical step — a mating bite. Which was a relief, or so I’d thought, because I hadn’t been all that excited about thebitingpart, what with a nasty she-vampire all too fresh in my memory.
But that night, in the throes of passion, something deep inside me fought its way to the surface, igniting a craving likenothing I’d ever experienced. I’d ended up begging — full-on, teary-eyed, scratchy-voice, shamelessbegging— for a bite. And, holy smokes. I’d never experienced a more explosive, dizzying high than in those next, unforgettable moments.
Except, ha. I’d gotten to experience it all over again the next night, and a few hours ago, because mating bites weren’t a one-time deal. You got to repeat them as often as you wanted.
And boy, did Nash and I want. We wanted and wanted and wanted.
But I digress.
The glow must have shown the next day, because Pippa hustled me a safe distance from Claire and demanded to hear all the sizzling details. But I honestly didn’t have the words.
“Try,” Pippa growled.
That Pippa. Bossy as hell sometimes.
So I tried, but eventhe best, most explosive sex of my life coinciding with a tiny flash of pain that sent fire searing through my veins and plunged me into ecstasydidn’t do it justice.
I doubted that would satisfy Pippa, who’d never shied away from smutty girl talk. But my expression must have conveyed the rest, rendering even her — mostly — speechless.
“Wow,” she said, stunned.
Yes, that summed it up nicely.
And yes, I knew I was one lucky woman. I had a good job, a great man, and a wonderful life in a beautiful, peaceful place.
And yet, that night in my loft, I stared up into the roof beams, inexplicably restless.
Nash was sleeping as soundly as ever, his steady breaths conveying calm and satisfaction. Outside, not a dog barked, not a horse whinnied. The world was at peace.
Everything and everyone but me.
I checked the clock. Nearly midnight. Then I stared into the darkness, trying not to think. An eternity later, I glanced at the clock. Why was time moving so slowly?
Maybe it was me.
Ever since tapping into the power of the vortex — something I vowed to never, ever do again (unless another warlock or vampire came along to threaten us. But damn, I sure hoped not) — things were different. Before, I could track the wind if I made a conscious, concentrated effort — a little like using my limited high school Spanish. Now, I was suddenly fluent, comprehending as effortlessly as in my native language.
Yeah, comprehension. Fluency — those fit my new relationship to the wind perfectly.
But the wind was slumbering at that moment, as I ought to be.
I lay there, listening to my heart thump. Not a quiet nighttime thump either. More like an anticipatory,the race is about to start kindof thumping.
I frowned into the darkness. There was no race, only a four a.m. alarm looming. It was time to rest, not to lie around fretting.
I rolled and cuddled closer to Nash, trying to absorb his peaceful vibes. But when I closed my eyes, my mind filled with apocalyptic images of rushing landscapes and bursts of fire.
I snapped my eyes open and rolled to my back. Maybe if I counted sheep…
Okay, counting sheep never worked. But I had to try something.
And damn, was it hot. Even naked and with sheets long since lost over the side of the mattress, I broke into a sweat. I could see it glisten on my chest in the moonlight. Which would be normal for summer — or menopause, I supposed — but we were still in the dead of a high-altitude Arizona winter. And as formenopause, I shouldn’t have to deal with that for another twenty years. Or so I hoped.
