Read Online Rendezvous at Midnight by Lynne Connolly - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lynne Connolly
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How do you feel?”
“Fine. Better than fine.”
“No, I meant after last night. After your accident.”
He touched her jaw with the tip of one finger, drawing it around to her mouth and tracing her lips. Soft as satin. “You know it wasn’t an accident, Lisa. I’m okay. The guys got here in time.” Intent on tracing her cheekbones, he didn’t look in her eyes. “You know it was a killing jolt. The mix of you knocking me away and Mr. Smith and Rostov arriving brought me back.”
“I’m so glad we did.”
“So am I.” He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the tips of her fingers before moving on to her knuckles, needing to taste her. “Even more so, now. But I slept like a log. I don’t usually do that. Ghosts have a way of disturbing my sleep.”
“They do? Can’t you control it somehow?”
“I do.” He licked delicately between her fingers, caressing her nerve endings to hypersensitivity. “I’m a hybrid, a mix of psychics, and it resulted in my ability to talk to ghosts.”
“I’ll keep you safe.”
He stopped his gentle strokes and gazed at her, somberly studying her face. “I know you will.” Lisa would ground him, keep him sane. She was good for him in more ways than one.
They shared a moment out of time, drinking each other in, sharing something profound and he gently entered her mind. Delicately and politely, he came in.
Would you mind if I stayed here for the rest of the weekend? I want to stay in direct contact with you. I need to know you’re safe .”
She shook her head. “I don’t mind.”
She showed none of the fear she’d exhibited before. It demonstrated acceptance and filled him with contentment and relief at her response. How would he feel if he hadn’t known about the world of psychics and then suddenly found himself in the middle of it? Loving one? He didn’t know, but her strength of character humbled him.
How about the rest of my life ?
“That might be a problem. Can we ease up a bit?”
He kissed her, softly. As slowly as you need . But not this. Need built in him but he wanted to make it good, as good as possible. This woman was his now, and he’d ensure she was as happy as he could make her. He licked the spot where her neck met her shoulder, curled his tongue into the little indentation there, hearing her gasp with satisfaction. She liked that.
With his mind embedded in hers, he explored her anew, discovered the spots on her body particularly sensitive, kissed her, enjoyed her taste, and the feel of her skin under his hands and mouth.
Before he could slide over her to enter her, she pushed him onto his back. “My turn,” she said with a wicked smile that turned his insides to Jell-O.
She wanted some control. He understood and welcomed her. She needed to feel wanted. He could do that.
Lifting her leg, she straddled him, pausing to examine his erection.
“I hope it suits you,” he said, feeling a twinge of anxiety.
She caressed him as he had done to her face, drawing her finger gently up its length, driving his body into a maelstrom of need. Then she circled it just under the cap and bent to taste him.
Oh God ! He forced himself to keep his mind open, let her know just what she was doing to him. Her tongue stroked him gently, explored his contours, entered the little opening at the top.
“Torture,” he managed to gasp. “Sweet torture.”
She sucked and he tensed, his whole being with her, urging her on, a litany of nonverbal compliments pouring into her. Warmth, comfort, stark need, all combined and with every swirl of her tongue as she brought him higher.
Just when he thought the end was inevitable, she pulled away from him and studied the wet, glistening tip, smiling.
“This mind stuff sure makes the lovemaking interesting.”
She lifted her head and met his anguished, ecstatic eyes, and then slowly raised her body. He wanted to look, wanted to see her body, wet and open just for him, the sweet little bud between her lips erect
“Fine. Better than fine.”
“No, I meant after last night. After your accident.”
He touched her jaw with the tip of one finger, drawing it around to her mouth and tracing her lips. Soft as satin. “You know it wasn’t an accident, Lisa. I’m okay. The guys got here in time.” Intent on tracing her cheekbones, he didn’t look in her eyes. “You know it was a killing jolt. The mix of you knocking me away and Mr. Smith and Rostov arriving brought me back.”
“I’m so glad we did.”
“So am I.” He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the tips of her fingers before moving on to her knuckles, needing to taste her. “Even more so, now. But I slept like a log. I don’t usually do that. Ghosts have a way of disturbing my sleep.”
“They do? Can’t you control it somehow?”
“I do.” He licked delicately between her fingers, caressing her nerve endings to hypersensitivity. “I’m a hybrid, a mix of psychics, and it resulted in my ability to talk to ghosts.”
“I’ll keep you safe.”
He stopped his gentle strokes and gazed at her, somberly studying her face. “I know you will.” Lisa would ground him, keep him sane. She was good for him in more ways than one.
They shared a moment out of time, drinking each other in, sharing something profound and he gently entered her mind. Delicately and politely, he came in.
Would you mind if I stayed here for the rest of the weekend? I want to stay in direct contact with you. I need to know you’re safe .”
She shook her head. “I don’t mind.”
She showed none of the fear she’d exhibited before. It demonstrated acceptance and filled him with contentment and relief at her response. How would he feel if he hadn’t known about the world of psychics and then suddenly found himself in the middle of it? Loving one? He didn’t know, but her strength of character humbled him.
How about the rest of my life ?
“That might be a problem. Can we ease up a bit?”
He kissed her, softly. As slowly as you need . But not this. Need built in him but he wanted to make it good, as good as possible. This woman was his now, and he’d ensure she was as happy as he could make her. He licked the spot where her neck met her shoulder, curled his tongue into the little indentation there, hearing her gasp with satisfaction. She liked that.
With his mind embedded in hers, he explored her anew, discovered the spots on her body particularly sensitive, kissed her, enjoyed her taste, and the feel of her skin under his hands and mouth.
Before he could slide over her to enter her, she pushed him onto his back. “My turn,” she said with a wicked smile that turned his insides to Jell-O.
She wanted some control. He understood and welcomed her. She needed to feel wanted. He could do that.
Lifting her leg, she straddled him, pausing to examine his erection.
“I hope it suits you,” he said, feeling a twinge of anxiety.
She caressed him as he had done to her face, drawing her finger gently up its length, driving his body into a maelstrom of need. Then she circled it just under the cap and bent to taste him.
Oh God ! He forced himself to keep his mind open, let her know just what she was doing to him. Her tongue stroked him gently, explored his contours, entered the little opening at the top.
“Torture,” he managed to gasp. “Sweet torture.”
She sucked and he tensed, his whole being with her, urging her on, a litany of nonverbal compliments pouring into her. Warmth, comfort, stark need, all combined and with every swirl of her tongue as she brought him higher.
Just when he thought the end was inevitable, she pulled away from him and studied the wet, glistening tip, smiling.
“This mind stuff sure makes the lovemaking interesting.”
She lifted her head and met his anguished, ecstatic eyes, and then slowly raised her body. He wanted to look, wanted to see her body, wet and open just for him, the sweet little bud between her lips erect
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