He hadn’t slept.
Surely he hadn’t slept.
He never slept.
But when Keeshan opened his eyes, returned from that
blissful oblivion Aimalee had forced on him—and yes, he shuddered a little at
the memory as yet another thrilling aftershock rode him—she was gone.
He knew better than to panic. There were only a few places
she could be. But when he came to himself, he was oddly disoriented. As though
he had awoken from a dream and was tormented by the tantalizing trails of
heaven.
But it couldn’t have been a dream. He never slept.
Slowly he rose, redonned his tunic and went in search of
her.
He found her in the library, surrounded by stacks of books
and piles of ancient scrolls. He should have known.
She glanced up when he entered but he could tell she was
distracted. She flicked a page and ran her finger lovingly down the text. “This
is fascinating.” Without looking up, gestured to the cluttered bookcases behind
her. “Where did you get all this?”
“Alexandria, the Library of Congress…Wikipedia.”
She grinned. “Library of Congress. I didn’t realize you had
a card.”
He propped himself against the bookcase. “I have access to
any book ever written. Anything.” And plenty of time to read.
“Oh my.” She gaped at him. “That sounds like a dream come
true.”
He stepped closer. “Have you always loved books?”
“Always. When I was a kid, they were my best friends.” She
cocked her head to the side. “Come to think of it, they were my best friends
when I became an adult too.” She grinned. A tiny dimple blossomed on her cheek.
He sat on the bench beside her, reveling in her warmth. Her
presence. There was something about a woman wrapped in her passion that stoked
a passion of another kind.
Odd. The angle of his desire was different than the
magic-engendered lust of the lamp—not as sharp or cloying. The subtle undertone
had always been there with Aimalee, hovering, but overshadowed by the louder,
more insistent cacophony the lamp created. This felt very much like real
attraction. It was milder, deeper and had a pleasant aftertaste.
He rather liked it.
He bent to kiss her. Lightly. Testing. Her lips beneath his
were plush and pliant. Her mouth, a lush fruit. It brought to mind the aching
memory of her sucking the sanity from him and then swallowing him whole.
It was difficult to disengage but he did. There would be
time for more later. He tucked an errant strand behind her shell-like ear.
“What was your childhood like?”
She stared at him, probably discomfited by his abrupt change
of tack. When he began kissing her, he usually continued. At least up until
now.
“Um. Wonderful?”
“Is that a question?”
She laughed. “No. No. It was wonderful. Just not typical. I
lived with my father. We traveled the world.”
He took her hand in his and idly traced the veins on her
wrist. “That does sound wonderful. What did he do?’
“He was an archeologist. We lived in tents at dig sites, in
hotels, on boats off the coasts of tiny ancient villages. It was fun.”
“He was an archeologist. Like you?”
“Yes. Only better, I think.” She tipped her head to the side
as though she was thinking deeply and needed more thoughts to fall to the left.
“The apple and the tree and all that.”
His brow wrinkled. “The apple and the tree? I’ve heard that
before in the mirror. What does it mean?”
“It’s a saying. It just means that children are often much
like their parents.”
“Ah. So why do you think he was better than you?”
She laughed. “I don’t know. I guess you always see your
father as bigger than life. He never did anything wrong. Always got it right
and everyone respected him.”
Keeshan tightened his grip. “And people don’t respect you?”
She shrugged.
“If it counts for anything, you are one of the most
talented, intelligent women I’ve ever met.”
Their gazes met. Hers singed through him. “It counts.”
“And Carter is an ass.”
“I wasn’t thinking about Carter.”
“He is still an ass.” Keeshan grinned.
“Well, he gave me my first real job so I guess I owe him
that.”
Keeshan snorted. “From what I saw, he owes you for that. If
it hadn’t been for your meticulous work, the museum would have gone under two
years ago.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“I asked the mirror.”
“You asked the mirror? The mirror can show you
probabilities?”
“Sure.” He winked. “You just have to know how to ask. You
have certainly noticed how careless Carter is in his work.” She nibbled her lip
and nodded. “He doesn’t give a fig about the particulars. In this scenario—the
scenario where he did not hire you—he fudged on some details and got caught. He
was fired, drummed out of the archaeological community and had to leave the
country. He’s backpacking around Europe, bedding aging Italian widows for
dinners.”
Her nose wrinkled as she considered this bit of fluff.
“Surely you aren’t serious?”
“It is merely one probability. But I enjoyed it.”
“Do you often ask the mirror to make up stories to entertain
you?”
He shrugged. “I have a lot of time to fill.”
She glanced around. “With all these books to read? Look at
this.” She pulled out one scroll. “The resting place of the Arc of the
Covenant.” And another. “A rubbing of the complete Rosetta Stone. Complete!”
He tipped his head to survey the rubbing and nodded. “It’s
not what they thought, is it?”
“And over here, the original books of the Bible. All of
them.”
“Again. Not what they thought.”
“The Precambrian Spheres, Dropa Stones, Nazca Lines…” She flipped
through a pile of files. “Lost civilizations, ancient ruins, sacred writings,
unexplained artifacts… It’s all here.
He shrugged. “What can I say? I have eclectic taste.”
“It’s an archeologist’s wet dream.”
“Really? Would you say you find it…arousing?” He waggled a
brow.
“Keeshan!” Her tone held a thread of warning but there was
humor there too.
“Because I find it arousing.” He lifted her to his lap. “I
find…” He kissed her neck. “A woman…” Nibbled her ear. “Who finds my library
fascinating…” Thumbed a nipple. “Arousing.”
Oh. And the way she rubbed against him when he repeated all
three, he found that arousing as well.
To say he made wild, passionate love to her in the library
would be an understatement.
They did not emerge for several hours.
* * * * *
“There you are.”
Keeshan paused, his arm lifted halfway through the curl, and
glanced up. Aimalee stood in the doorway, limned in sunlight, her golden hair a
halo about her shoulders. She stole his breath.
He’d left her sated, sleeping, and sneaked to his playroom
to work off a mounting tension.
Damn. Could he really want her again?
He could.
She sauntered inside, letting the door close at her back,
shutting the sunlight out and sealing them in an intimate, sweat-laced chamber.
His attention sharpened. Unbidden, his biceps flexed and a thrill shot through
him when she tracked the movement and her pupils dilated.
He lifted the weight again and again.
She swallowed heavily. “What-what are you doing?”
“Working out.” Dropping the weight on the floor, he crossed
to the bench, straddled it and sat.
He found it gratifying that, when he dragged his towel
across his chest, she licked her lips. Not that she was aware of it. He was
convinced it was a completely involuntary reaction. She stared at him, dazed,
oblivious to anything but his body, tracking his every move like a hungry
lioness.
Then again, he was tracking hers. It was as though there was
nothing in the world but the two of them…and this bench.
He hooked his feet on the bar at the end and released a
lever, dropping the back end of the bench to the floor. He locked his fingers
behind his head and began pulling crunches. Her eyes never left the rippling
panoply of his abdomen.
After several minutes of grueling transverse sit-ups, he
paused and reached for his towel once more, making it a point to tense and flex
his abs as he wiped the sweat from his chest. He adjusted his position,
thrusting up his hips.
She stepped closer. “Um. How long do you do this?”
He grinned at her. “Until I’m exhausted.”
“And, um, how long does that take?”
“A long time.”
She put out a lip.
“I can, however, be distracted.”
Ah. She perked up at that. She played with her hair as she
contemplated this revelation. Damn, she was adorable. He wanted to bolt over
there and scoop her into his arms and take her, right then and there. But he
didn’t. He was actually enjoying this byplay.
“What…” She cleared her throat. “What would distract you?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. If someone were to come sit on
this bench with me, that could distract me. Possibly. I am very dedicated, you
know.”
“I can see that.” She nibbled on her lower lip.
He felt a wash of desire to do the same. She stepped closer,
examining the bench, then trailed two fingers along the bar at the top.
Jealousy of the bench, irrational and unwarranted, flickered. He wanted her
fingers trailing over
his
bar. And he wanted them now. He shifted in his
seat, beset with a sudden discomfort.
“So if someone, say, did this…” She lifted her skirts and
straddled the bench, legs parted. Keeshan nearly swallowed his tongue. The lace
dress, the one she’d worn all this time, was fairly see-through. And now he got
an eyeful. Of her barely covered dusky triangle. At eye level.
Mouth level.
It was his turn to swallow a puddle of drool.
“Would this distract you?”
“No.”
She pouted. “No?”
“Come closer.” His voice cracked on the command.
“Like this?” She nudged forward, just a damn fraction of an
inch. Then she tipped her head to the side and smiled like a coquette.
He frowned. “More.” He didn’t mean it to come out as a growl
but she seemed to appreciate the depth of his ardor. A shiver ran through her.
Obediently, she edged closer. Closer. And closer still.
When she was close enough, he yanked her flush against him.
Ah! She felt magnificent in his arms. She always did.
And the squirming? He rather liked that too.
“Ew!” She squealed. “You’re covered in sweat.” She tried to
push him away but he held her close with a dark chuckle. He wasn’t ready to let
her go. Not yet.
“Then lick it off.” He fumbled with the clasp of her dress.
When the fastening wouldn’t cooperate, he gave it a little jerk. Then a big
jerk. A ripping sound echoed through the room and the dress gave way. He tugged
her against him, delighting in the crush of her supple breasts against his
skin. Her pebbled nipples scraped at his sanity.
“Keeshan. That was my only dress.”
“I’ll get you another.” He took her pouting lips with his,
suckled, nibbled, savored until she succumbed with a sigh. He buried his nose
into the delicious curve of her neck.
And as he worked on her, kissing and laving and sucking at
the tender flesh there, she edged closer and closer still, until she was nearly
upon him. She draped her legs over his and pressed her cleft against his
crotch. The heat of her core spread out, around him.
His cock wept with delight.
Damn, he loved the feel of her. Loved her naked enthusiasm
for his body.
He cupped her naked breasts. A delightful weight. He
squeezed them gently, reverently. “You are so beautiful.”
“No. You are,” she chuckled, mimicking him, suckling his
throbbing nipple. He jumped when her sharp teeth closed down on it and then he
groaned as ribbons of sheer delight, shards of passion lashed him.
He did not remember enjoying the other women quite this much
but he must have. He must have.
He teased his way down to her bare thigh. The dress was
pooled in her lap. He foraged beneath the frothy material to find her core. She
hissed as he came closer. When he found her, when he touched her steaming clit,
she threw back her head and groaned. A strained melody.
“Do you like that?” he hissed.
“Yes. Ah! Yes.”
He didn’t need her response. He could tell she liked it. The
cream oozed from her at his touch. Unable to wait any longer, he rocked her
back just a tad and slid a finger into her weeping body.
She was so ready. She was so wet.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and levered herself
higher so he could go deeper. He did.
“That’s so good. Yes. Like that.”
He withdrew but before she could complain he filled her
again. She shuddered around him and rested her forehead onto his chest. Though
she was trembling with the strain, she stayed aloft, thrusting her hips
forward, demanding more. And more.
He gave it to her. Three fingers barely fit, she was so
tight, but he was a determined man. He worked at her slowly, rotating inside
her and glorying in the dueling expressions of bliss and frustration playing
over her features. When he pulled out, he was slick with her cream. He could
not resist a taste. But a taste was not enough.
She watched through drooping lids, her lips working,
desperate to form words.
But then she apparently decided she didn’t need any words.
She needed action.
And now.
She found the band of his breeches and yanked. His cock
sprang free but it was a liberty that did not last long. For she encased him.
He threw his head back and howled. It felt so good. So
tight. She clasped him mercilessly. Tiny little quivers, minute twitches,
brain-rattling suction.
She moved over him and around him, working her way down his
shaft. His toes curled as she reached the base, as the wiry hairs of her groin
meshed with his.