Games of Zeus 02- Silent Echoes (28 page)

Ian’s arms burned as he kept Ellen’s weight on his side and maneuvered down the steps. His body may have been tuned to the woman in his arms, but his mind stayed fixed on Taylor, one step ahead of them and calling out obstacles.

Two more flights down and they met up with another group chitchatting and meandering their way. “I heard this was just a test.” “Someone said a toaster blew up.” “Damn high rises. Can’t keep their fire contained.” Each of the voices gave Ian a picture of the face, yet he refused to look, keeping his gaze trained on Taylor.

Another thirty stairs and his legs cramped, but he pressed on, gritting his teeth and willing his ear drums to deal with the continued siren.

Twenty stairs later, the foursome stopped, along with at least two dozen others as four firemen waved their arms in the air. “From here you can take the elevators. Everything is contained on thirty-two. Nothing to worry about. Just a small kitchen fire. You’ll be back home soon, but we do want to complete the evacuation.”

Ian helped Ellen to her feet as they stood in front of the bank of four elevators.

Taylor tugged on Ian’s shirt. “Can we keep going? I don’t like being up here knowing there might be flames above us.”

He switched toward where Jacob and Ellen stood, still clinging to each other as she continued her pants and breaths. With a ding, the elevator opened, and the crowd rushed forward.

“Please, Ian. I’m a little claustrophobic and a lot fearful of fire.”

“All right, then. Let’s go.”

Unencumbered, the trip down took just over five minutes. As soon as they exited the lobby, along with a rush of people from the elevators, Taylor turned to Ian. Behind them, four fire trucks waited, their lights flashing. A few police cars sat caddy-corner to the building, blocking traffic or redirecting it. People stood, crammed together on the sidewalk and in the street, some moving away, others staying in place as if to snub the would-be fire.

“Ian,” she said as he said, “Taylor.”

She ran a hand through her hair as Ian wiped one across his scalp.

Never before had he been so in tune with a woman.

“Let’s go back to North Carolina,” he said as she said, “I really can’t stand New York.”

Her mouth opened wide. “You want to go … back?”

Ian slid his palm against her cheeks and touched his lips to hers. “My brother once said that my place is wherever Tripp is, but I think he was wrong. My place is wherever you are.” Someone jostled him from behind, and Ian repositioned himself and Taylor farther into the mixing crowd.

“Do you mean that?” she asked.

“I just carried a woman down almost ten flights of stairs not knowing if the building was really on fire or not. If that had been Lexi and Tripp and I had to do that, my heart would have been pounding in my chest. I’d have had one of your panic attacks not knowing if we’d get her out. And, she’s just a sister to me. God, Taylor, what if that was you?”

“But, isn’t New York your home? Isn’t this where you’re meant to be? I’ve been in your life a couple weeks and some of that I’ve been in a coma-like state, and others I’ve been in ja—” She stopped at Ian’s glare.

“What really made you come up here?” People bustled about in Ian’s peripheral vision, jockeying for space, moving in and out and probably pick-pocketing a few of those standing around idle.

Taylor didn’t respond.

“Something else?” Ian asked.

Her lips firmed.

“The real reason. Tell me the real one. Not about the daring duo of womanhood who love to meddle, especially in my life.”

Taylor’s smile brought Ian’s out. “I never wanted you to leave. Even with the story and conclusions you made, and when Riley explained why you left—all the coincidences. Lexi and Emma reminded me what those are.” Her eyes closed.

He sighed, dropping his forehead to her. “I really did think leaving was best, that if I weren’t in your life at all, there’d be no chance I could hurt you. But, Taylor, I’ve been going out of my mind again just like before.”

She opened her eyes.

“I’d planned to get the plane and fly down today. Was just pacing my apartment waiting for the phone call that would tell me it was ready. I didn’t tell anyone what my plans were, except Tripp.”

Taylor snorted a laugh. “And now, I see where his wife gets it. Master manipulators, wouldn’t you say?”

“Given they can cheat … uh … it makes their roles even easier for them.”

She reached up and kissed the corner of Ian’s mouth. “I want you to be with me, no matter what happens to us. I’m not willing to let a ‘what if’ from a history that doesn’t belong to us screw with me.”

“You know, that sounds as bad as someone saying they want to marry a prisoner, right? You’re signing your own life sentence at the hands of a man who pretty much wants to have sex with you every minute of every day.”

A laugh burst from Taylor. “Bluntness is your forte, Ian.”

“I know.” His grin spread. “Now, North Carolina, and we see where this goes, or we go back up and see how many more toasters self-combust while we’re there?”

“You need to know more about me first … I … panic sometimes. It’s happened more since I’ve met you. Might get worse.”

“I’m not going to pick up a handsaw, fix a faucet or toilet. Either you can do it, or I’ll hire someone.”

“I spend twelve hours a day outside with a ton of guys. Some go shirtless. Some are pretty ripped.”

“I’m not opposed to a threesome.”

The burgeoning crowd pressed closer to them as if listening in on their back and forth conversation. Laughter flowed around them.

“I don’t like pools. I don’t like bonfires, even though I’m an outdoorsy, girl.”

“What’re you guys listing?” A bystander jumped up to them. “Sorry. I’m bored waiting for this ridiculous fire alarm.”

“Whether to stay in New York with me,” Ian said. “Or to go to North Carolina, where she lives. Probably forever.”

“Go with her!” a woman said, sidling up to the man who’d interrupted. “That’s so romantic.”

The guy rolled his eyes.

“They’ve been listening.” Taylor tried to turn, but stuck in Ian’s hands, she came right back to him, her body bouncing with her laughter. “This is so embarrassing.”

“I’m going to want to take a lot of trips because of my work. I’ll want you to go with me.”

Taylor smirked. “I don’t like boats.”

“I don’t like slow.”

Groans rang out through the growing crowd. “Go with her!” More female voices shouted out.

“I like steak,” Taylor said.

“Me, too. I think that seals the deal.” Ian crushed her lips with his, wrapping his arms around her as the crowd cheered. “Guess it’s time to get my redneck on.”

26

The plane banked left, Ian sitting at Taylor’s side. She snuck a peek out the window. The city, on the edge of the Atlantic Ocean, stood tall and proud as if waving her away and wishing Ian well as he left New York behind.

“We have a couple hours to kill. Ish.” Ian leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.

Taylor shifted to him. “I could think of a few things to do.”

His muscles flexed under his shirt. “Could you now?”

“Yes.” The sound came out low and sultry.

His hands clenched together. “Anything interesting? Or just plain normal?” He added a soft kiss to the edge of her lips.

She tilted as he did, their movement a dance that shifted only as the plane increased its altitude in a smooth glide toward the heavens.

“You know … I don’t think I’ve done so much first base stuff since I was ten,” Ian said.

Taylor’s laugh hit the roof. As her mirth subsided, she faced him again. “Ten, Ian? Really?”

“I’m just that good.” A small shrug accompanied his smirk.

“I might have to test that theory. Again.” She grabbed his shirt, tugged him forward and covered his lips with hers. Rather than let him lead, she did, slipping her tongue between his lips and pushing their kiss further. Taylor nipped the side of his jaw up to his lobe. She stretched out her hands, reaching for his. “Mile high club?”

The belt of his seat unclipped faster than she could blink. A second later, Taylor found herself whisked into his arms and perched on his lap. Ian’s hands gripped her as if he needed to hold tight to keep her in place.

She kissed the underside of his chin, moving down his neck to where his shirt separated at the first button.

A low growl rumbled in his chest. “I’ve wanted my hands on you since I first heard your voice. I’ve wanted to touch you at every opportunity. Being apart again was a total waste of time and energy.”

She nipped at his skin. “Then, let’s make up for that.”

His hands gripped her hair, and he pulled her forward until her breasts pressed against him through the sheath of her T-shirt.

“I’ve wanted you since the first moment I saw you.” She nipped at his ear. “Whatever happens from this point forward, I want to know I satisfied one of my many little fantasies.” Her tongue teased back to his lips.

“Anything. At this point, if you told me you’d planned
my
murder, I’d still be willing.” He slid from the seat, following as he lowered her to the small space between the two rows.

“There’s not a lot of room down here.” She wriggled until her shoulders fit between the two chair legs.

“I can deal if you can.”

Looking up at him from the floor, she reached for his buttons, undoing each one with slow, measured precision. “I can.”

The sight of his chest, uncovered, with a fine layer of dark, soft hair, forced a tremble through her body.

John.

She slid the sleeves of his work shirt over his shoulders until he drew out of each, one by one. She yanked on his belt, and he undid the tie, sliding it from the loops.

Never before had a farmer’s breeches been so desirable.

John braced himself above her. “I know the space ain’t big, but—”

“With you, any place will do.” She ran a hand down his face, the day’s growth of beard roughening her palm. With a wide grin, she worked to press down the fabric at his waist, her hand slipping between wool and skin, short nails brushing against the side of his thigh.

He closed his eyes, and a long moan left his lips.

“Anticipation is much of the enjoyment, wouldn’t you say?” She slid her hand down and around until she reached her goal.

He lowered until his lips touched hers. From left to right, he nibbled while she caressed.

A bump of turbulence brought Taylor back to their moment, to Ian, and to the realization she’d just experienced another of her out of body memories, yet her hand remained firmly around his reality.

“What’s wrong?” His eyes held nothing but concern.

Taylor smiled. “Nothing.” With eyes closed again, she willed the memory to come back. “Nothing at all.”

He repositioned to the side, lying with her in the straw in the upper loft of the barn, just under the easement, in the crook where no one would ever search. His finger stroked a line along her face.

“Where are your thoughts?” she asked.

His lips curved. “Would you, if the circumstance differed, consider marrying the likes of me?”

She couldn’t contain her smile. “Without a doubt. I would marry you today if Father would but allow.”

His smile remained as hers grew.

She took the opportunity to reverse their positions until she lay above him. His hands moved with speed but matched the sensual dance and play they’d found themselves in before. Fingertips unraveled her rear corset’s ties, and she rose up so he could smooth the cotton over her shoulders, down her arms and expose her torso. His hands cupped her breasts, sending tingles through her. She lowered again, hair falling from her ribbon and onto his face.

He separated the strands, sliding his hands between them and cupping her cheeks. A tug brought her down to his lips, his hips driving up as she nibbled his ear.

With her touch to his thigh, he let go and pushed at his trousers, removing them with a few quick movements.

She repositioned herself against him, the way a tree roots with the earth, each extension fitting as if made to be together. Skin to skin, dotted with perspiration more from eagerness than exertion, and with their gazes locked on each other, she took him inside her.

His eyes shuttered as her own did the same. Lost in the beauty of her own thoughts, John became the only man Claire could picture—the only man she ever wanted. The only man with whom she would ever share of herself.

A bump jostled her, and Taylor opened her eyes again to find a grin across Ian’s face.

“Where did you go?” Ian asked.

“With you. Always you,” She lifted her hips just a bit.

Ian drove into her with a slow, painful back and forth like a violin’s bow across a low note, gauging just how long it could hold out before it had to reverse course.

The tease drove pleasure through her.

She closed her eyes again, savoring.

Each touch of his hands on her body, his lips against her skin, and their simple connection made her want to cry out for more. He’d move slow and tease, build to a crescendo, and she’d hold off on her release, desperate to remain connected with John.

Her lip throbbed from her bite, their whispered words the loudest of their sounds as horses whinnied and the hiss of a feline followed the bark of her daddy’s sheepdog.

John levered up onto his elbows, wrapped one arm around her and spun them so he lay across her again. “Would you deny my wish to pleasure you?”

She reached her arms above her head, giving the entirety of herself over to him, his fingers grasping and intertwining with hers. “As you wish, my love.”

Warmth spread to the farthest reaches of her body, branding her with the scent, touch and taste of the man above her. A kiss to her cheek, and her legs tightened around him. A touch to her neck, and his speed increased. A lick at her lips, and her entire world rocketed toward the sun in a blinding fury of passion.

Their chests heaved against one another, neither prepared to move, as if she had fused with him in a mating dance made to last centuries—as right as if they’d repeated an event that tied them across time.