Enchant the Dawn (16 page)

Then she was close to him, moving with slow precision their hands linked and their bodies forming the patterns of the slow foxtrot, their feet performing the steps when their minds were wrapped up in layers of conflict. Daron thanked the heavens he’d had some dance lessons and Hester for her repeated requests to watch Daron perfect his technique with a then heavily pregnant Irene. He’d never have thought afternoons spent coaxing laughter out of a hardened Irene and entertaining Hester with silly antics would result in this.

Sophia fit perfectly in his arms, her cheek brushing his chin, her hand on his shoulder. Her back was warm under the thin silk and he longed to touch the bare expanse of it, knowing it was softer than the fabric covering it. He wanted to run his fingertips over it, watching her skin shiver in reaction to the lightest of touches. Wanted to span his fingers around her waist as he thrust deep inside, watch her back arch as he rubbed her clit. He shook himself, barely catching himself in a misstep and pushing the surge of lust away before he tried to take her in the middle of the dance floor.

Letting his body lead in the dance, he found that they glided over the floor as though they’d been dancing for a lifetime. There was no question here that they were meant to be partners. The sweet sound of the clarinet was all the conversation they needed.

He knew what she was feeling but he wasn’t sure that she understood it at all. When they were together, he could see swirling energies as she did and he still couldn’t interpret half of what he saw. If she couldn’t see past her own swirling emotions, he doubted she could read past the desire he felt for her and his frustration that she had not yet accepted the fact that they belonged together

He felt her surge of surprise that he could dance and dance well and he enjoyed being able to shock her just a bit from her expectations of the uncouth gypsy. She was remarkably light on her feet and threw herself into the dance with almost total abandonment. Losing herself in the moment to escape from the weight of her Gift. She would be like that in his bed, so full of passion that it would flow out of her in waves that he would gladly drown in. He could be her anchor and he would do it gladly.

But not against her will.

He tried to pull away from her, tried to clear his mind and ignore the persistent throbbing of his aching cock. His body and his soul clung to her presence too tightly and even as he managed to back away a few inches, her hand wrapped around his neck and pulled him back down, close enough that their lips brushed for a moment. Need arched through him until he couldn’t tell if it was hers or his. He kissed her there out on the dance floor, hard enough that they stumbled to a sudden stop and the dancers swirled around them, hollering and whistling at the intensity of the public kiss.

The band played on and somehow she led them through the teeming mass, until they came out at the other end of the lounge. The orange and blue floor swam in front of his eyes and truly he could see nothing but the sweep of Sophia’s back, the way the fabric caressed her skin. The dress dropped in the fashionable way to provide a straight silhouette, giving him no indication of the beautiful ass he’d held in his hands a few days ago. He wanted her out of that dress, he wanted inside her, within her, until he knew every inch of her inside and out better than she knew herself.

Lust burned in him so that he barely noticed when he was pulled through an inconspicuous doorway behind the refreshment bar and went from the low light of the dance floor to the heavy blackness of a recessed staircase. When he knew for certain they were completely alone, he pulled on her hand, stopping her for a moment in her mad dash down the stairs and pressed her against the wall. His hands stroked her hips through the silk as his tongue stroked against hers. He gripped her ass in his hands and yanked her up the wall until his cock pressed against her cleft through the inconvenient layers of their clothes. She moaned and circled her hips against him before pushing him away for a moment and listening for any sign of noise.

He blinked for a moment, trying to remember why he felt the smallest stirrings of warning when the rest of him was more than satisfied to have her willing in his arms. He nibbled on her neck and she whimpered. “Not here!” At least someone was still thinking. She caught hold of one of his roaming hands as it pushed the fabric of her tiny dress upward past her garter. Pushing past him, she led them down another floor’s worth of staircase. At the bottom, she opened two doors down the darkened hallway before finding one to her liking.

“I know the owner,” she whispered as she closed the door behind her. “Moe won’t mind if we borrow a storeroom for a while.”

She threw her arms around his neck before he could form the hint of a question and drew him back into a world where nothing existed but the hot, sweet taste of her. The room was dark except for the red glow of the neon sign outside the tiny basement room. Her skin seemed licked by flame as he pulled down the tiny sleeves and pushed the silk bodice down. Her breasts were trapped under a ridiculously tight camisole and she squeaked in mild protest when he ripped the thing with his bare hands.

Her breasts now free of their prison, he bent to worship them, caressing them with his fingertips and laving them with his tongue. She tasted deliciously salty, a savory feast who was eager to be consumed. He sucked the curve of her right breast tight against his teeth, tasting a hint of blood and marking her. She shouted, demanding more even as her knees gave out and he hitched her thighs around his waist and set her on a wooden shipping crate. The rhythm of the music pounding down from two floors above grew faster and the pulse of his blood grew more demanding. He ground his cock against her, sliding one hand up her thigh from smooth stocking to soft skin as the other hand fisted in her hair and their lips met for another feral kiss of teeth and tongues.

Her hands were busy as he teased the sensitive softness of her inner thighs. After unbuttoning his shirt, she pushed his jacket down, trapping his arms for a moment and catching his lower lip between her teeth with a low growl. He gave in just long enough to pull his arms out of the sleeves and let the thing fall to the floor. His hands were back on her thighs in seconds, running his fingertips under the edge of her garters and following the strip of fabric back up her leg and over the sweet curve of her ass. There was the thinnest of fabric covering that lushness and he came very close to ripping it as he had her camisole.

She laughed a deep, sexy sound that made his trousers seem tight enough to cause pain. She wriggled her hand between them and plucked at the ribbons holding her bloomers closed and a long slit opened up in the fabric, allowing his hands better access to her center. Her ass, on the other hand, he would have to investigate another time or spend a fortune replacing the whisper thin garments.

Before he could delve into the sweetness of her sex, she’d parted his shirt, running her nails over his nipples and causing him to shiver in response. Her breathing was heavy and her voice low, “You’re pretty daring, Mr. West. No undershirt! Shameless!” She leaned forward, depending upon his hands on her thighs to hold her weight as she ran her tongue from his breastbone to the base of his neck then sank her teeth into him, marking him as he had marked her.

Her actions made him groan and his fingers tightened on her thighs hard enough to leave marks but her words sent a heavy weight into his stomach. He wasn’t a jealous man but this woman was different. She was his. She’d known the touch of other men and he wanted to drive out the memory of anyone else. He wanted to fill her with so much pleasure she couldn’t remember the concept of fulfillment before he’d taken her there.

His fingers stroked her swollen labia, then brushed her clit with a touch so light she practically fell off the crate trying to increase the pressure. They both laughed, their eyes meeting each other for a long moment as he pushed her firmly onto the crate with his hips, trapping his hand between his cock and her slick folds. He could barely think, working on instinct and the barest thread of restraint as he thrust two fingers into her heat and watched her pant in need as her eyes slowly closed.

He felt her walls clamp against his fingers as he tried to withdraw to tease her, to try to draw her pleasure out as long as possible. Swallowing at the thought of how fucking good it would feel for her to do that as his cock slid inside her, he was unable to fight as her hands reached down to flick at the buttons of his trousers. Soon he was helping with one hand and his cock was free, brushing against the tantalizing skin of her thighs. His fingers were still inside her stroking against the front of her sheath as his thumb brushed her clit. He wanted her to come around his fingers, shuddering with pleasure before he entered her. Her spasms would pull at him as he entered her for the first time, reminding him that he needed to hold on to his control until he could give her that over and over again. She deserved all that and more.

But she didn’t seem to agree. She squirmed against him, her hands gripping at his arms. Finally, she slid her fingers around his cock, stroking him firmly and making no doubt about what she wanted. He eased his fingers out of her and let her position the head of his cock at her entrance as he continued to swirl the pad of his thumb around the sweet bud above. She circled her hips upward, trying to force him inside.

“Damn it! Fuck me already, won’t you!”

He raised an eyebrow at her words, so impatient and American but when he looked at her face something was wrong. She didn’t wear a look of expectant pleasure or wanton desire. Her beautiful flushed face glowed in the red light filtering in through the windows but her eyes held the unmistakable mark of fear.

He wrenched his consciousness away from his demanding cock and pulled away from her, putting his hands on both sides of her face before she could turn away or cover the truth of her emotions with annoyed bravado. Again, their eyes met but this time he called up the resources of his powers and hers, delving past the physical passion they both felt to reveal the emotions underneath.

She was terrified
. The silver white of her essence was dimmed by a fear so deep she couldn’t face it. She wanted him to leave, to fuck her, use her body and leave, just like every other man had left her. He could feel the fear like a clawing monster in his mind, stopping every other sensation from passing into the depths of her soul. She thought if she could cure them both of the lust they felt, she could retreat behind her walls and deny that such a thing as love ever existed.

A cold chill enveloped him. He backed away from her, leaving her blinking at him in shock. Her dress was pushed up around her hips and down around her waist, leaving all her loveliness on display and calling to him but her heart and her mind were still untouchable and aloof.

He pulled up his trousers and gritted his teeth against the swelling anger against her for not trusting him and himself for still wanting her body, regardless of the circumstances.

His voice was rough, full of that repressed anger and colder than the winter wind. “I want all of you,
ashavi
. All or nothing. A quick fuck is not going to cure you of this and it won’t send me on to my ‘next conquest’. Make up your mind, Sophia Hunter. Do you wish to be the woman you were meant to be?”

He stormed out the door, leaving her unsatisfied and completely alone. It was the hardest thing he’d ever done.

Chapter Ten

The rain hadn’t let up at all. There was talk of flooding in Brooklyn if it kept up much longer and some talk that the first games of the Yankees’ season would have to be cancelled. Mr. Lowbridge was beside himself with worry over the whole mess and consoled himself and everyone in the shop by reading aloud, for the third time, the entire play by play of the season opener in Boston two days previously. Unfortunately for Sophia, the rain had let up in Massachusetts just long enough to allow the Red Sox and Yankees to battle it out a couple of times. She loved baseball, really she did, but she couldn’t bring up a single lick of enthusiasm for the tale of “our boys’ twelve-eleven win over Boston”. Especially when George Lowbridge was just trying to forget the seven-eight loss to the Red Sox that happened the next day. He hadn’t bothered to read that play-by-play aloud.

The droning voice did cover up the echoing dreariness of the shop but Sophia was in no mood to appreciate the gesture. Alan was hiding downstairs after another argument with his brother over his various research projects. Not to mention the lack of time he was spending on the upkeep of the still, which had thrown a fit this morning and lost them a couple of barrels of rotgut. Sophia wondered if George Jr. would be half so disapproving if he knew that Alan’s main research project at the moment went by the name of June and was pretty enough to stop traffic if you could get her to smile. Alan seemed to be doing that, if his frequent disappearances and remarkably vivid blushes seemed to be any indication.

She would be happy for him but she wondered deep down if she still remembered how to be happy. It was possible to paste on the makeup and the clothes, the dancing and the booze to make you think you were happy.
How long has it been since I’ve really, truly been happy?