Page 93 of Wind Whisperer


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Every kiss we shared zinged with energy. Every touch sent fairy sparkles cascading through my mind. Every desperate breath fueled an inner fire.

Magic has its pluses, I remembered my dad saying, but it held dangers too. The trick was not to let it — or yourself — get carried away.

In which case, I was already failing.

“Nash…” I mumbled, slipping one leg around his side to come face-to-face.

In no time, I was straddling him, trusting him to keep balanced on the rock we used as a seat. Behind me, the fire crackled, urging me on.

“Seeing as this is wet…” He peeled back my jacket, then unbuttoned my shirt.

I cursed every inch of stubborn, drenched fabric. It clung to my skin, slowing down what felt like a life-and-death mission. I need this man, and I needed him now, dammit!

When he finally tossed my shirt aside, the fire sizzled and hissed. Nash bent to trail kisses down my chest, and when he reached a nipple—

Whoosh!A branch snapped, and the entire teepee of logs collapsed a few inches.

Gripping Nash’s shoulders, I tilted my head back, greedy for more. But even that wasn’t enough, and soon, I was dancing in his lap.

“Dammit.” Nash broke contact with a frustrated growl and practically jumped to his feet, hauling me with him.

My wet jeans and panties were even harder to strip, and we cursed the whole time. We didn’t bother with Nash’s except for working down that poor, overstrained zipper. Then I practically shoved him back to the rock.

“Now, where were we…” I murmured, straddling him.

My voice cracked as I sank down, taking him deep. He slid his hands from my rear to my hips and then my knees, yanking me closer. I cried out at that perfect, piercing heat.

“I got you,” he rasped, holding me firmly. “I got you.”

Not thinking, just trusting, I leaned back and cried out again.

He groaned my name and plunged deeper still. And deeper…

Outside, lightning cracked, and the wind howled. But the storm outside was pushed to the periphery of my senses by the storm within.

Ha. Take that, Harlon.I pictured my inner lightning crossing and overpowering his in a burst of sparks. I imagined my own hurricane-force winds driving away his pitiful little puffs. All his forces retreated, at least in my imagination. I’d never felt more powerful or more possessed.

I rode Nash harder, faster, panting his name. It wasn’t pretty or poetic, but dang, was it good. Our motions grew jerkier, and my vision faded until the flames of our fire blurred with the color of the cave walls.

“Yes…” I strained, close to releasing.

Nash’s legs, chest, arms — every point of contact was stone-hard and fire-iron hot. Gritting his teeth, he leaned back, adjusting our angle yet again. When he jerked and released inside me, my breath caught, then escaped in a long, satisfied moan.

We stayed like that for a long time, suspended in a sensual haze. Then Nash pulled me closer, and I slumped over him in a tight hug.

I didn’t dare speak, because I had no idea what to say. I just held him, inhaling his scent and basking in warmth. A short time ago, we’d been on the cusp of death. Now, we were at heaven’s door, and I was in no rush to leave.

Chapter Twenty-Five

ERIN

Our — er, activities — made a mess of us, but we cleaned up as best we could, then snuggled, waiting for the storm to break. Over the next hour, I wondered if it ever would. But after a drawn-out wrestling match, the sun finally broke through the clouds, and light lasered down in long, brilliant rays. The rocky red landscape had never been so spectacular — not that we had time to admire it. As soon as it seemed safe to venture outside, we made our way back to the balloon and radioed in.

“Desert Skies One! So happy to hear you!” Chico cried, picking up a split second after we called. The man was truly a gem.

He’d dropped off Madden and the guests at the office, then headed back out into the storm to search for us, tuning in to the radio the whole time. Once we made contact, he maneuvered the van over punishing terrain to reach us. I was all for hauling the balloon out of the hollow there and then, but Chico and Nash insisted it could wait, and we drove straight back to town.

The storm had caused chaos there too, but that didn’t stop a detail of police from appearing at the office in response to emergency calls about an out-of-control balloon. The press was hot on their heels, and we had to run a gauntlet of cameras and microphones on our way into the office.

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