He was about to see if Gregor and Teya would put him back in the secured room when he felt a tickle at the back of his hair.
“Ppssttt.”
A whisper, he wasn’t even sure whether he heard it or imagined it. Holding his breath, he waited for it to come again.
There. The scent of oleanders rode on a gentle wind blown in his ear.
“Pppssttt.”
Shane’s eyes fell closed at the overwhelming sensations caused by the gentle contact. She was here teasing him through a port fold. The vixen.
“
Is that the call of my temptress?”
He wanted to hold her, enjoying her play.
“
Come to me, my bloodedmate. I’m waiting.”
Shane’s mind was flooded with the image of the spring. He felt a tug on their bond. Shane couldn’t contain the joy and anticipation that rolled over him; his mate had learned much.
She was at the spring. He realized the significance of the reunion spot she had chosen, and he couldn’t wait to see her beautiful face. Standing, he let out a triumphant roar and removed his slacks, wanting to be bared before her in every way. He stepped into the spot where, not so long ago, he had set her toes into the waters edge. Replaying the memory of the wondrous smile she’d worn as the mud squished between her toes, he wiggled his own toes.
Jess was sitting on the rock where clothing had been waiting for them on their bonding day. Her feet were placed at exactly the spot in the grass he’d been standing when he’d scooped her up and flown her back to the war tent. That seemed like forever ago now. Her back was to him, and between her shoulder blades gently waved the most beautiful set of wings Shane had ever seen. Jess’s hair was lying between the wings, following the line of her spine. It was intricately braided with tiny braids looping around to join into the thicker main braid. Tiny, delicate vines and baby’s breath flowers were woven into the braid. There were even toxic little oleander blossoms.
He could feel her desire mingling with his own in the way of bloodmates. A shared experience, the bond bounced their pleasure off of and into each other, increasing the intensity and satisfaction of the other. He could feel Jess holding herself back, wanting to prolong and languish in these first moment together. Shane’s heart nearly beat out of his chest. His Beauty was finally within reach. Shaking with the urge to pounce on her, he couldn’t breathe. He could only watch. The depth of his love for her, evident in his gaze, was lodged in his throat, making him speechless.
She pivoted toward him, her stunning emerald-green eyes peering over her shoulder into his eyes, slamming what little breath he’d had out of his lungs. She turned to face him fully, slowly rising from her perch on the rock. A smile lit her face, the most magnificent smile, and the tips of her dentes were evident. The shimmering gown she wore clung to her curves, caressing her figure. His breath returned with a swift intake. He took two steps toward her before falling to his knees on the grassy bank, mesmerized. She was breathtaking, a miracle. His eyes immediately filled and overflowed with tears of joy. He was sure he had the stupid grin of a male in love plastered across his face, the same look he’d once given his friends shit for. He couldn’t care less. All that mattered was Jess.
Returning his smile, she sauntered over to where he knelt watching her. She walked a slow circle around to his back, and her dente’s slid firmly into her mouth.
“You have the sweetest ass ever. Have I told you that?”
Shane shook his head.
“Shame on me. Yummy. That is what your ass is.”
He felt her excitement level jump as the scent of her arousal wafted around him. She continued to stand behind him, and Shane groaned. Jess placed her hands on his shoulders and stepped toward him until the front of her thighs pressed against his shoulder blades. She leaned forward, sliding her hand down his chest, across his abdomen, stopping short of his erection, nearly touching him where he was aching for her the most.
He could feel her reactions too, and her anticipation added fuel to his. She could feel the ache she was creating in him, and the siren was reveling in it.
Slowly snaking her hand back up his stomach and chest, she circled one of his nipples with the tip of her finger. She moved away from his back, leaving him feeling barren just long enough for her to complete the circle and step around to face him again.
Shane slid his hands up her thighs, lifting the bottom edge of her skirt. As the delicate fabric rose, it revealed the treasure between her legs. He tugged her the final distance to reach his lips, laving an intimate kiss against her nether lip. Jess’s moan of pleasure filled his ears. The sensations of his tongue finding the bundle of nerves hidden within her folds overtook her, leaving her panting, soft, sharp cries of pleasure. Her hands plunged into his hair. He trailed down the tender flesh, seeking her entrance, sampling her nectar. The sweet flavor of Jess exploded across his tongue. Her inner walls clutched his tongue before he returned to the bundle, then again plunged into her entrance, taking her body quickly toward release. The sensations ricocheted into him. He groaned from the shared pleasure he was giving them both, sending a vibration into her core, launching them both closer toward mutual gratification.
Jess halted his maneuvers before she could reach her peak. She wanted more. Falling to her knees before him, she leaned in, gently cupping his sack. Shane drew in a deep breath. “Your scent is an addiction, Beauty.”
Jess watched his eyes darken, showing his passion. Her nipples hardened, ached, reached for him against the delicate silk fabric that separated them from the warmth of his bare chest. She paused a breath from his lips to whisper seductively, “Not so fast. I want to savor you.” She captured his lips, taking command of the kiss she so desperately needed. Her arms came around his neck and Shane groaned, opening to her exploration, allowing her to take charge. She gave a controlled flap of her new wings, propelling him from his knees to his back, and covered him with her body.
Shane’s arms came around Jess’s, returning her kiss, passion for passion. He started to lift the shimmering silk to touch her breast. Jess slapped his hand away. “My turn.” Rising on her elbows to look into his face, she said, “You’re all mine.” Nipping his ear with her dente, she licked the drop of his blood that welled up from his lobe. She nibbled down his neck, pausing at his pulse, running her tongue the length of the beating flesh the way he so often had with hers. Working down his chest, she sucked first one and then the other of his flat nipples into her mouth before continuing downward.
Finding her intended target with her hand, she encircled his throbbing shaft, slowly stroking it, using the beads of moisture escaping from the tip to wet the head with her fingertips. She grasped and stroked his length again. Her mouth continued the slow descent, painstakingly detailing each of the defined muscles along his abdomen.
“Yours, to do with as you please.” His voice growled with passion. His body was taut with pent-up lust. His erection was thick against her palm with his need to release. “Be warned, my love, my control is weak. This is sweet torture.”
Jess circled his sensitive ridge with her tongue, and a pleasure-pain cry escaped him. His hands grabbed fistful of grass at either side of him. She took him deep into her mouth, being careful of her new dentes. Stroking the underside with her tongue, she withdrew, then plunged him deep into the back of her throat again.
“Jess. Oh Fates, I need to be in you, Beauty. Take me into your body, my love, please,” he gritted out. She could feel him holding back his release with everything in him.
Jess released him from her mouth and rose up to straddle him, still fully dressed in her gown. She needed, he needed, and they would have eternity for slow seductions. She raised herself over his erection, sinking it into her core, working him deep within her, crying out in unison with Shane when he reached his hilt at the entry to her womb. Riding him hard and fast, she reached for her rapidly approaching peak in desperation. Every move, every stroke of the exposed nerves deep inside her built the fire in her higher. Psychically stroking the building pressures in each other in a way only true bloodmates could, they crested their peaks together, feeling the other’s explosive release intensely. The joined stimulation created a firestorm of pleasure. Wave after wave they rode as mutual pleasure pinged between them.
Jess screamed, “Yes, Shane, yes,” her body pulsing, milking Shane’s gritted, “Aww, Jess.” Every move brought on a renewed surge of release before they slowly returned from the sensory abyss.
“Damn, I needed that. I needed you,” Jess murmured, breathing hard, her pulse still pounding. She slid down to lie boneless across Shane’s chest.
“That was exactly what we both needed, Beauty.” Shane began untying the halter and sarong she still wore. “This gown is amazing. You look beautiful in it. It will look even better rumpled on the ground. I need to feel your skin against me. I have to touch you. Every inch. I need to know you are okay.” He placed a kiss on her shoulder, her neck. “Let me see you.”
She smiled and rolled with him to her back. Overhead clouds were swirling, bearing tribute to their sexual energy. She bit her bottom lip, drawing a drop of blood. “Shane.”
“Hmm.” His distracted reply came from the curve of her neck.
“It’s going to rain, babe.” She’d caused the storm with the energy of their passion.
He looked up at the clouds. “Then we must be doing it right.” He moved back toward her neck.
She giggled, dropping her head to cut off access, halting his antics. He met her gaze again. Cupping his cheek in her hand, she leaned forward to place a gentle kiss to his lips, teasing him with the taste of the drop of blood. “I want to go home. I miss Mesa.”
Placing his forehead to hers, Shane nodded. “My place or yours?”
“Your place, our bed.”
Shane smiled. All was right in the world.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Six months later…
“I just got off the phone with the district attorney’s office.” Mark Johnson looked into the anxious faces of the three women across the desk from him. “Someone pretty high up must have pulled some strings, because he has not only reviewed the independent evaluation of the evidence against Ben, his specialists have confirmed our findings. The coroner will be re-issuing Marja Weedle’s death certificate to show that the cause of death is suicide. The District Attorney’s office is faxing over the dismissal order for Ben’s case any minute.”
Weeks ago, these three had walked into his office and handed him a fifty-thousand-dollar retainer. He’d listened to the story Jess and her aunts had told about the death of Marja. For all accounts, Ben was a functioning vegetable. His medical reports depicted a person who was able to follow directions only, walk, eat, and shower. The man lacked the capacity to independently initiate actions.
Jess, born Jessica Weedle on her birth certificate, would have been the state’s star witness at the age of ten in the murder trial of her father. Ben’s mental state had made that trial impossible. He’d been declared medically incompetent and institutionalized for the past fifteen-plus years with zero mental improvement. The charges had remained pending. Murder charges had no statute of limitations in Arizona.
According to her story, Jess had woken from a dream recently in which she saw more about the death of her mother than she had originally remembered in childhood. The memory of the minutes leading up to her mother’s death had been released from her adult mind. Though she still maintained that she had fainted at the steps of the kitchen door, then regained conscience a few seconds later, she’d opened the door to see her father kneeling next to her mother holding the knife that had slashed through her mother’s throat—verbatim of what was written in the original reports. No one had even asked the child why she had fainted in the first place. They’d determined that she must have seen her father kill her mother through the kitchen window. The report said that Jess had repeated over and over, “Mom’s bleeding from her neck.”
According to Jess’s dream she was watching through the kitchen window and saw her mother lift the knife from the counter and take it to her own throat. Jess had fainted and then blocked the memory. Prior to coming to Mark, she had tried going to the district attorney’s office directly. They had refused to re-open the investigation, stating it was too high a cost to the state to re-evaluate the evidence for a trial that would likely never take place.
Mark had been just as skeptical as the district attorney had been. Jess’s aunt was Ben’s sister Laura, and she wanted to give Ben home care. Marja’s twin sister Moira swore that there was no way Ben could have ever hurt Marja. Laura wanted her brother to live with her. It was impossible to have Ben released from the state institution with the charges pending against him. Mark was originally worried that young Jess was being bullied by her two aunts to manufacture this dream, a particular worry when he dug into Jess’s background to find that no one had taken responsibility for the girl. She’d ended up in the foster system. The aunts hadn’t been a part of the girl’s life until a few months ago. Mr. Weedle had not had a single visitor, not even his daughter. A background check on Laura Weedle showed that she had been in the Peace Corp up until she’d had a baby, after which she had visited her brother for the first time.