A Reaper's Love (WindWorld) (11 page)

“French kissing is very continental,” she
observed.

“Very cosmopolitan.”

“Trés chic,” she added.

“I will kiss you thoroughly, ravish your
mouth then kiss your eyelids, your nose, your chin then worked my way down your
neck.”

“Okeydokey.”

“Suckle the suprasternal notch.”

“You’re big on that word, aren’t you,
Tater?”

“Like that little indention at the base of
your throat,” he replied. “I’ll fan out along the left shoulder then the right,
then drag my tongue down to your breastbone.”

“Now, we’re talking. Get to them boobies
like yesterday!” she ordered.

Very slowly he sank his middle finger into the
sweet slit of her cunt.

“Oh, baby, baby,” she whispered and writhed
under his touch.

“Lie still,” he commanded sternly. “Or I’ll
stop.”

“That won’t make your Mr. Happy very happy
will it?”

“Nor will it make your hoo-haw happy,” he
replied.

“Spoilsport,” she accused.

“I think about bypassing your nipples…”

“Oh, please don’t!” she said. “I’ll be
good, Tater. I promise. You gotta lick my nipples. That’s imperative.”

“I’ll consider it,” he said as he pushed
deeper between her folds.

“Gotta. Lick. Them. Nippy-dens,” she said
with a sigh as he inserted a second finger.

“All right,” he said. “I’ll do that. First,
I’ll run my tongue over one—lapping gently, slowly—until it hardens into a
sweet little bud.”

“It’s hardening,” she said, beginning to
pant for he was moving his finger in and out.

“Then I’ll clamp my teeth very softly
around that little nub.”

“Clamping is good,” she said, lifting her
ass. “Clamping is a good thing.”

“While you feel my warm breath fanning over
the areola, I’ll draw that delicious little peak into my mouth and suck on it.”

“Sucking is real good,” she whispered.

“Indeed it is so I’ll move over to the
other breast.”

“Don’t want it to get jealous,” she said
with a shake of her head.

“I’ll give it the same amount of attention
before I leave it to begin kissing my way down your stomach.”

“Oh, no,” she whimpered. “Don’t leave the
boobie just yet, Tater!”

“The journey is toward a specific
destination,
chere
,” he said. “I’m slowly making my way to our native
South.”

“Deep South,” she said. “That’s a nice
trip.”

“Deep, deep South,” he said as he pressed a
third finger into her heat until he could go no further. He held his fingers
steady and hard inside her.

“You know our motto down there,” she said,
squeezing her vaginal muscles around his penetration.

He leaned over her, put his lips to her
ear. “What’s that?” he whispered.

“Y’all come,” she replied.

“Oh, I will, baby,” he said in a husky
voice. His fingers withdrew, advanced, withdrew, and advanced. “But you first.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Agent Albright?”

Laci woke with a start, groaning as she
realized where she was. Feeling frustrated and heavy between her legs. She
looked up at the steward. “Huh?”

“We’re arriving on Santorini, ma’am,” he
said. “You need to buckle up.”

She nodded. Her heart was pounding and she
was so aroused she was throbbing. She doubted she could even walk without
squirming. She’d need to go to the restroom before she exited the plane but it
wouldn’t be to pee.

“What a dream,” she whispered softly. It
was so out of character for Taylor and it had been so intense! So real! She was
tingling all over and there were goose bumps on her arms. She rubbed them but
the sensation only made the throbbing worse between her legs.

* * * * *

With his heightened senses, he homed in on
the black Gulf Stream as it touched down. She was on the private jet and from
the turmoil he could sense roiling inside her, he knew she’d been dreaming of
that man who used to be connected to her. The dream had aroused her. He could
almost feel the slick heat of her cunt and it made his fingers itch.

He stood there at the window and watched
the big black bird rolling toward the terminal and felt his blood begin to
race, his breathing increase. Soon he would be face to face with his life-mate.

* * * * *

Laci deplaned with just her shoulder bag.
The steward would bring her bag to the hotel for her. A part of her wished she
would be staying in the beach house where she and Taylor had stayed but another
agent was using it for her vacation. Perhaps, she thought, it was for the best
the beach house was taken. The memories would be overwhelming.

Laci froze as the soft voice wafted into
her ear. She hadn’t felt his arrival nor sensed him at all. She turned her head
and found her eyes only inches from his. He was leaning over her close enough
for her to feel the heat of his body beneath the white silk shirt stretched
across his broad chest.

“Hello,” he said and dark-green eyes
shifted boldly over her face then settled momentarily on her mouth before he
moved back.

She couldn’t find her voice. His sudden
appearance seemingly out of thin air disturbed her so greatly she shuddered as
he took a seat across from her. All she could do was stare at him, every hair
on her body stirring.

The wine steward appeared with the plum
wine and two glasses. Ceremoniously he poured a sip into the
balgair’s
glass and waited for the man’s reaction.

Laci watched the man across from her take a
sip then nod his approval.

“Excellent vintage,” he pronounced.

She waited until the wine steward left.
“Who are you?”

He smiled and that smile did things to her
body that it shouldn’t have.

“I’m sure the moment I sat down your techno
geeks began running facial recognition software trying to find out,” he said.
He shrugged. “My name is Dixon Coulter.”

It didn’t surprise her that he knew about
the camera that was hidden inside the brooch she wore on her blouse. “I am—”

“Laci Albright,” he said and took a long
sip of his wine.

“Then you know whom I work for.”

His smile widened. “Indeed I do and I’m
looking forward to meeting them.” He set his wineglass on the table, glancing
up at the waiter who took that moment to appear. “I will order for the both of
us,” he told the waiter.

Uneasily she listened as he ordered a meal
that was exactly what she would have ordered for herself and what he ordered
for his own repast was what Taylor would have—even down to the dessert.

When the waiter left, he leaned back in his
chair and gave her a steady look. “Tell them yes.”

She blinked. Beneath the skin of her right
ear was a tiny receiving device, the transmission from which only she should
have been able to hear. The Supervisor had asked her for a clarification of
information he’d just received from Ops.

“Yes, I am—or rather was—a Navy SEAL. I’m
sure the Supervisor will make sure I get a medical discharge from the Navy when
I come to work for the Exchange.” He grinned. “Won’t you, Costin?”

Laci winced as a loud gasp issued from the
receiver. She knew it was the Supervisor’s reaction to having Coulter use a
name other than John Doe.

“You know his real identity?” she asked
quietly.

“
Leave it
!” the Supervisor’s hiss
thundered through her mind.

“Your secret is safe with me, Cos,” Coulter
said. “But that should give you some idea of just how much knowledge I have.”

“
Get him to the plane. We’ll handle the
rest
.”

“I’m not ready to leave Greece just yet,”
Coulter stated. “I believe I have earned a little vacation. The lovely Miss
Albright can bring me to you at the end of the week.”

“
Unacceptable!
”

“Non-negotiable,” Coulter said. “Now go
away.” He waved his hand and the Supervisor’s angry retort was cut off.

Shock rippled through Laci and she began to
hear the rush of her blood pounding through her ears. He had cut her off from
the Exchange with barely a flick of his wrist. She had no doubt the vid from
the camera in the broach had been shut down as well.

“It has,” he said, reaching for his
wineglass. “And every operative who has been watching us is now wandering
around looking for something fun to do.”

She swept her eyes around the restaurant
and was stunned to see they were completely alone. All the diners had left and
not even the wait staff was hovering. Her heart began to pound.

Fear unlike anything she’d ever known
settled down on her with suffocating force. She stared into his dark-green
eyes—so like Taylor’s—and knew a moment of absolute terror. Placing her palms
on the edge of the table, she was prepared to push out of her chair and run.
His carefully modulated voice stopped her.

“You have nothing to fear from me, Laci,”
he said softly. “I would cut off my right hand before I would hurt you or allow
anyone else to. Trust me on that.”

“Why?” she asked, feeling nausea bubbling
up her chest.

He reached across the table to lay his hand
over hers. The moment he touched her she felt an electric shock travel from her
fingers to her shoulder. She couldn’t move.

Didn’t want to.

“We are going to eat our meal and
thoroughly enjoy every bite of it,” he said in that same soft voice, his eyes
locked on hers. “Then we will go back to my room where we will have some
privacy to talk. Is that all right with you?”

She nodded, unable to speak. She was caught
in the verdant glow of his unblinking eyes.

“Good,” he said. He patted her hand then
removed his, sat back and just stared at her.

Her body was tingling as his gaze roamed
over her.

“You are an incredibly lovely woman,” he
said. He drained his wineglass and returned it to the table. “And I am a lucky
man.”

“In what way?” she asked. Her breathing was
erratic and making her feel lightheaded.

He cocked a shoulder. “You’ll understand
soon enough,” he said.

“I have a mate,” she told him.

“Indeed you do,” he agreed. “One who loves
you very much and would do everything in his power to keep you at his side.”

“Yes,” she said, licking her suddenly dry
lips. “He would.”

He smiled again—slowly, knowingly—and that
smile was so devastating to her libido she felt her womb clench.

He was a handsome man. Dangerously so.
There was no getting past that. With a head of thick, curly black hair, a
strong square jaw with deep dimples, a cleft chin and those mesmerizing green
eyes he could be a matinee idol. His teeth were white and straight except for
his central incisors which were a bit crooked. In the opened vee of his shirt,
she could see a mat of dark curly hair. He had a thick Southern drawl that
finally registered with her.

“You’re from the South,” she said.

He inclined his head. “Florida,” he
replied. “Same as you.”

“What part of Florida?”

“Milton. Do you know where that is?”

“In the Panhandle,” she said and when he
nodded she asked where his last duty station had been.

“That is classified,” he said. “I am
nothing if not honorable when it comes to my commitment to my country, Laci.
I’ll not tell you where I was or what I was doing when I was captured by
Hassan’s men. If the Supervisor wants that information—though I can’t imagine
why he’d need it—he can try to get it from the Navy. You, my love, don’t need
to know.”

“Don’t call me that,” she said and saw a
flash of irritation go through his eyes before the spark died and his smile returned
in full force. It annoyed her because she knew he understood what his smiles
were doing to her.

The waiter arrived with their meal.

“Hungry?” he asked, shaking out his napkin.

“No,” she said.

He laid the napkin in his lap then leveled
those green orbs on hers. “Yes, you are.”

She opened her mouth to protest but nothing
came out. She was trapped once again by his stare.

“Eat your food, Laci,” he commanded. “You
had no lunch so I know you are hungry.”

“I am hungry.” She heard her words as
though they were coming from a deep well.

“Good girl.” He picked up his knife and
fork. “Now eat and enjoy.”

“Yes,” she agreed.

Dixon watched her as she ate. He did not
speak to her. Did not want her to speak so gave her a light mental push to
prevent it. He wanted her to eat. He wanted her to enjoy what she ate. He had
heard her stomach growling as soon as she’d sat down at the table and had
gently slipped into her mind to see when she’d eaten last. As they spoke, he
sensed the confusion and uncertainty swirling through her mind to cause her to
lose her appetite. He didn’t like influencing her but knew here at the
beginning it would be necessary.

He liked looking at her. She was, indeed, a
stunningly beautiful woman with her long blonde hair and lovely blue eyes. She
had lips made for kissing. Full and lush, he could spend hours plundering them.
She was small and he doubted she weighed more than a hundred and five pounds.
Her waist was small enough he knew he could span it with his hands. Beneath the
crisp green cotton blouse were breasts that would fit enticingly into his palms
and he could not stop himself from probing past the fabrics of the blouse and
lacy bra to take a quick look at the dusky peaks. He ached wanting to draw her
nipples into his mouth.

Shaking that thought from his mind, he took
up his napkin to blot his lips. He saw her gaze go to his mouth and smiled for
her again. For some reason when he smiled at her she reacted with immediate
arousal. He could smell the heady scent of that arousal wetting her folds and
longed to lick the honey from between her long legs.

She was taller than he preferred his women
to be but he found that didn’t matter. Everything else about her was perfect in
every way. The sweet Southern accent that years in Iowa had not been able to
completely wipe away was low and sultry and filled him with such intense
longing it was hard to remain seated across from her. He wanted nothing more
than to go all caveman on her and sling her over his shoulder, carry her off to
some deep, dark cave and ravish her with abandon.