Page 34 of Beloved Beast

“And do I wear my boots in bed?” she teased.

Luke laughed. He needed the emotional release. “Keep them nearby. Speaking of bed…” He nuzzled her neck as he headed out of the tunnel. At the entrance, he said, “Turn off the lights.”

Gillian held her torch and knife in one hand and turned the switch with the other. He stepped into the laboratory and the bookcase closed behind them.

He headed upstairs, through the kitchen, and past the parlor to the stairs leading to the bedrooms.

“I take it teatime is at an end?” She laughed.

“Yes. Sorry. We will reheat it later.” Nuzzling her neck, he whispered hotly in her ear, “For all I want right now is to be inside you.”

Gillian took a sharp inhale of breath and her heart beat furiously. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. Despite all the memories, the lingering ghosts, Luke decided he did want to move forward. Live his life. Accept what it had to offer, including this passionate woman, for however brief an instance.

As Glenna told him more than once as she grew older: “Embrace life. Accept love. Do not ever feel guilty for it.”

Yes, he would do it all.

For now.

Chapter 15

Once in the bedroom, Luke didn’t waste any time divesting them of their clothes. They tumbled to the bed, kissing and touching. Three paper envelopes containing latex prophylactics lay on the table by the bed, ready for use. They continued exploring each other as they kissed deeply, their tongues tangling. “Gillian, hand me an envelope.”

She did as he bade, giving him a sultry smile. Once sheathed, he proceeded to make love to her. Her body was lush and he thrust in, causing Gillian to groan. As he rolled his hips, Luke realized this was already moving far beyond the physical. Closing his eyes he allowed himself to revel in the overwhelming sensations.

Cupping her generous breasts, he closed his mouth over the pebbled nipple and suckled, moving between the two until Gillian’s moans became louder. With long, deep strokes, he possessed her. She clutched his shoulders, whispering fiercely in his ear, urging him on. Completely lost in the moment, he barely heard her reaching her peak. At last he let himself go, the release sweet as much as it was acutely satisfying.

They kissed, and soon he was making love to her again. He clutched her tight and rolled over until she was on top. She laughed throatily as she rocked back and forth. He sat upright, embracing her close as she came, letting himself go as they shuddered and moaned together.

The light outside had grown dim. They’d been at it for hours. Yawning, Gillian curled up against him, laying her head on his shoulder. Surprisingly, a wave of fatigue covered him and his eyes closed. Luke drifted in a subconscious state. Fog, mist, and a familiar and nightmarish recollection filled his thoughts.

Glenna stepped out of the haze, a worried look on her face. “What else can we do to prepare for this storm?”

Luke studied the large barometer on the wall of their parlor. The atmospheric pressure had dropped farther, indicating this could be much worse than the gales they’d experienced the past several years or what the radio predicted. He glanced out the window: cirrus clouds had formed, lying heavy and gray in the sky. The sea appeared flat as glass and the air was still. A dark, unshakeable foreboding filled him. It was quite literally the calm before the storm. No sooner had this thought taken hold when he felt the first unmistakable breath of cold wind.

There was no doubt of it; a hurricane was heading their way.

With that in mind, Luke calculated they had less than twelve hours until landfall. “I’ll board up the windows. Anything of any value should be moved upstairs. It is a distinct possibility the waves may crest the cliff and we could experience flooding.”

“Perhaps we should leave. Take shelter elsewhere,” Glenna encouraged.

He kissed her affectionately on the cheek. “We still have time. Meanwhile, you should pack a case, prepare the house. It is my duty to remain. I need to ensure the light stays lit and running efficiently even during a storm. Perhaps you should leave now and head inland to Padstow.”

She embraced him. “I’ll not leave you, Luke. Ever.”

Over the next several hours, they both kept busy with their various chores. Luke didn’t like the look of the sky or the sea. The powerful winds churned the water in such a way that the waves were cresting parallel to the beach, which meant they could carry a considerable amount of water beyond the shore. As he climbed down from the tower, he frantically wondered where Glenna was. Hopefully still in their house, packing for her departure. She would have to leave right away if she were to avoid the worst of the storm.

The brutal wind howled and whipped against his face; the rain stung his skin. He ran to the house and called out her name. No reply. He inspected the rooms on both levels and she was nowhere to be found. Where was she? Worry took hold. Luke sprinted outside. “Glenna!”He looked about the property. His heart seized in his chest as he finally located her. She was down by the boathouse. God, no. Stubborn woman. She wasn’t young any more, well past middle age. Why was she down there? He’d already made sure the kerosene tanks and fresh water barrels were secure.

He ran down the hill, almost losing his footing on the slippery clumps of grass and loose sand and gravel. “Glenna!” The winds hit gale strength and it was obvious she could not hear him. Finally, he could see what she was doing. Checking on the dory. He’d already done it.

“Glenna!”

She glanced up. The rain had drenched her skin, the kerchief on her head long gone, her hair plastered to her face. She pushed the hair aside, raised her hand in greeting, and gave a little smile.

A fetch of winds spiraled in to the shore, causing Luke’s heart to jump into his throat. He knew what such winds meant: storm surge! What happened next seemed to unfold in slow motion. The ferocious winds knocked Glenna into the side of the boat. He moved as fast as his muscles allowed him until he reached her. “Take my hand!” he yelled frantically.

Blood poured down the side of her face where she had hit her head on the gunnels of the rowboat. Stunned by the impact, she didn’t answer. The moment she took his hand, Luke glanced past her to the direction of the sea and could only think, “Oh my God, no!” Headed toward them was a solid wall of wind-whipped green water more than ten feet high. In the howling wind and stinging spray it came at them with silent and irresistible speed and force.