High Energy (8 page)

She surprised him?

So, the great Tyberius Augustus Evans was stumped, was he? Would wonders never

cease. Good for me?

She grinned impishly up at him. "You never will, you know."

It seemed she had confused him yet again. Better and better. By his expression,

he hadn't a clue as to what she meant. "You'll never classify me," she

clarified.

Smiling cryptically, he leaned forward, placing his hands on the flat surface of

the chair on either side on her head. "I'm counting on it."

Before she could guess his intentions, his sexy mouth had already brushed across

her own, taking a light skipping path across her face to nuzzle warmly at her

neck.

The sudden, unexpected touch of his firm lips on the tender skin of her throat

sent a frisson right down to her toes and back up again. The man was nibbling at

her! Who ever thought Tyber would—

His teeth scraped a pulse point. A soft moan echoed in the night.

Was that me making that sound?

Her eyes opened wide in shock. She stared mutely up at him. Tyber's silvery blue

eyes were glittering with… amusement? Interest? Passion.

He continued to gaze at her as he reached over to release the bunched-up blanket

from her nerveless fingers. Taking her small hands in his, he skillfully brought

them around his neck to engineer her embrace of him.

Their eyes met. Her breathing stopped.

He's going to kiss me.

The silky strands of his hair slid through her fingers as they glided forward

with the slow descent of his head. Taking his time, he lowered himself to her,

bringing his mouth over hers in a seamless move.

His lips were velvety slick and heated. So sensuous was the touch of his

skillful mouth that this time she wasn't even aware of the little moans that

escaped her throat.

Tyber was.

He kept his hands resting flat on the lounge chair beside her head as he

deepened the kiss. He skimmed the tip of his tongue lightly along her slightly

parted lips before gently suckling her bottom lip.

"Oh! That—"

"Do you like that?" he drawled, repeating the action.

An understatement. Her mouth opened for him.

Tyber had a sudden revelation; he wanted much more from her. Again he ran the

tip of his tongue along her parted lips, inserting it just slightly into her

mouth. Then he kissed her slowly, sweetly, as if he was content to go on whiling

away his life forever kissing her.

Zanita had never been kissed like this; Tyber was… like a little taste of

heaven. Enticing. Luscious. Damp.

A languid warmth spread through her.

He kept repeating his torturous routine—a touch of the tongue, the press of his

lips, each repetition slightly more intense than the last.

Every time his dewy tongue touched her, she shivered and he entered her waiting

mouth a little more.

Every time he kissed her, she moaned and he pressed a little harder.

The tempo of her breathing increased, but he did not increase his tempo.

He was deliberate and pulsating and utterly intoxicating.

Zanita quivered in his embrace. The obvious response Tyber was producing in her

was making him tremble. Without warning, he felt raw and dangerous. He was more

than just physically moved.

He wanted inside.

In every way.

But only his mouth touched her. Only his mouth captured her.

The next time he dipped into her, Zanita wasn't even aware of her fingers

splaying through his long hair, pressing the back of his head closer, closer,

hungry for the sensual pleasure of his creative lips and tongue.

At the feel of the insistent pressure to the back of his head, Tyber paused. His

thick lashes flicked up as he examined her face. Her eyes were closed, her

breathing ragged, her mouth still slightly parted for him. The gentle lips were

moist and swollen from his kisses.

Something leaped in him and through him. A flash arcing through every pulse

point. Searing. Pounding.

Suddenly he could not bear to be separated from the haven of those luscious

lips. He had never experienced anything so… intense. At that moment he wanted

her more than he had ever wanted anything in his life.

This woman did something to him he could not explain.

For a man who was dedicated to explaining anything and everything in his

universe, this was a disconcerting experience.

He pressed his thumb purposefully along her moist lower lip, completely opening

her for him.

No sense overanalyzing. Some things were better to accept in life, he briefly

thought before he seized her mouth in a piercingly sweet invasion. His tongue

swirled fully inside, gliding back and forth in a devastatingly thorough foray.

In ardent ownership.

Zanita clung to him, overwhelmed by his sense of purpose. His taste was pure and

sweet and as rich as cream. Unconsciously, Zanita's fingers clenched in his hair

as he managed the firm, seductive onslaught of her senses. She felt dazed. And

crazy for the feel of him.

He might not know how to classify her, but he certainly knew what to do with

her.

Zanita was barely aware of him lifting the blanket that still covered her to get

underneath it himself. Powerful arms surrounded her, drawing her close. She

could feel him now all around her, enveloping her, his taut skin as smooth as

velvet over rock-hard muscles. And hot. Very hot.

His fierce heat brought her temporarily to her senses.

She needed to slow down here. She needed to understand what was happening. Her

palms brushed against his sleek chest hair; she placed them flat against his

bare skin in an effort to stem the sensual onslaught. She looked up at him in

confusion, meeting his scalding gaze.

"Wh-what are you doing, Tyber?" she barely managed to stutter as his arms locked

her to him.

His eyes were definitely not clear ice now. They were smoky with desire. She had

never seen a man's eyes look so… smoldering. He lowered his head to her, an

intense, incredibly erotic look on his face.

"I believe I am about to claim you, Ms. Masterson." The heated, implacable words

were breathed just against her lips.

"Oh, but I don't think—"

"Good. Don't think." His hot mouth closed firmly over her own.

Something happened when they came together.

Something beyond reason; something primitive and erotically wild. What started

out as steady heat quickly escalated to an intense, untamable, unstoppable

maelstrom of passion.

She didn't remember her shorts coming off. Or her top. Or her bra and panties,

for that matter. She certainly couldn't recall Tyber slipping out of his jeans

and underwear.

She was aware of the first time his powerful leg brushed against hers. And of

his naked thigh inserting itself between her own. She remembered the feel of the

hair on his leg gliding against the smooth skin of her inner thigh.

The touch of his hands, large and warm against the bare skin of her back.

The sultry caress of his long hair across her chest as his unyielding mouth took

hers once again.

The commanding way he turned her to maximize the pleasure.

It seemed as if Tyber could not get enough of her. He massaged his palms

ardently over her body as they lay facing each other, his untamed yet sensitive

touch arousing nerve endings she didn't even know she had. He caressed and

stroked as if she were his personal pagan sacrifice. His to do with as he

wished. His to consume.

She would never forget the sultry, sizzling expression on his wildly handsome

face as he lost himself in sensual pleasures the depth of which she had never

experienced before.

Like hot, wet silk, his mouth fastened on the curve of her neck as he cupped her

bottom to press her tight against him. He was throbbing. Incredibly hard.

Incredibly endowed.

In a feminine action as old as time, Zanita moved slightly away from him. What

am I doing?

He firmly brought her back.

"I—I'm—" He never let her complete the sentence. Entwining his legs with hers,

his large hands cupping her head, lacing through her curls, he held her still

for his voracious, heart-stopping kisses. She dissolved totally, melting into

his embrace.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Tyber knew that a fever had him in its grip.

Uncharacteristic or not, he had no intention of pulling free.

When he rolled the rosy turgid peak of her breast along the edge of his teeth,

the choking sound issuing from low in her throat sizzled him.

When he drew the edge of her breast deep into his wet mouth and Zanita began to

whimper, his body temperature soared.

Her little cries of passion made his rushing blood burn. His only coherent

thought was—more.

Tyber's hands slid under her back, raising her to him, as he dropped his head

between her full breasts to rub his face roughly against her skin, deeply

inhaling her womanly scent. He was lost… lost.

Tyber's uninhibited sensuousness took Zanita's breath away.

He ignited her.

Zanita pressed her lips to his steaming throat, right over a throbbing vein. She

could feel his pulse, his life force, beating strong beneath her mouth. Tyber

turned his head to the side to give her better access; his ragged breath

skittered across the top of her head as her mouth drew insistently on him. In

response, his muscular arms fastened securely around her slim waist, an

imprisoning web of masculine strength, as soft as silk, as strong as steel.

Each entangled the other. They clung together in passion like interwoven vines.

Zanita ran her kiss-swollen lips up the strong column of his throat, now craving

him like her personal designer drug. She stopped to tug sharply on his earlobe,

then ran the small point of her tongue around the rim of his ear, darting the

tip just inside.

His quick intake of breath and slight tremor inflamed her.

Losing all reserve, her actions unconsciously mimicked his as she buried her

face in his long, fragrant hair, breathing deeply of its clean masculine scent

before writhing against him like a cat in heat.

Tyber went wild.

He rolled on top of her, pinning her beneath him. His mouth crashed down on

hers, a searing brand of possession. His fingers laced with hers, pinning her to

the cushion beneath them as he imprisoned her hands in a classic stance of male

sexual domination. This enlightened Renaissance man had just shed his cloak of

refinement; he became untamed, insatiable, and definitely ready for love.

He entered her in one sure stroke to the hilt.

They both cried out.

She wrapped her legs tightly around him. He wrapped his arms tightly around her.

Then Tyber fused his mouth to hers and moved in her. And moved in her. And moved

in her.

She felt the first tremors, not quite sure what was happening. She begged him to

stop; Tyber ignored her.

He was relentless.

She began sobbing. She threatened him if he stopped. For the first time in her

life, she lost her inhibitions; she screamed and hollered and had one hell of a

time. When the exploding spasms rocked her, they were so intense, she took him

with her right over the edge.

Tyber groaned from the depths of his soul and had the most powerful orgasm he

had ever had in his life. Collapsing on top of her, he nestled his head in her

shoulder, too shaken to move a muscle.

Zanita came down to earth, blinked her eyes at the moon, and grinned like the

Cheshire cat against the sweat-slicked skin of Tyber's throat.

Good Lord… He had done it!

She had been well and truly befuddled.

After several minutes, Tyber raised his head, tossing back his mane of hair.

He had figured it out.

The knowledge that he wanted this woman now, again, tomorrow, became crystal

clear to him. She had responded to him as she had to no other man, he was sure

of that. His arms tightened around her as he bent forward to give her a sweet,

lingering kiss.

His fingers massaged her scalp as he gazed thoughtfully into her eyes. "I'm the

first one to make you feel that way."

"How did you know?" She seemed surprised at his level of perception.

Tyber raised a lordly eyebrow. "Well, let me think… I could say it's intuition

or even my great psychic ability, but perhaps it was all the yelling—'Oh my God

what's happening please don't stop you're killing me.' Yes, I definitely think—"

She punched his shoulder.

He chuckled, planting a quick kiss on the tip of her chin.

"You're very proud of yourself, aren't you?"

"Mmm." His mouth trailed down to her collarbone where he lingered in possessive

male afterplay.

"I'm thinking I really shouldn't have added to your arrogance level, Doc."

"The decision was, shall we say, taken out of your hands. Besides"—he nipped her

chin—"I don't have an arrogance level."

"Ha! Oh, Tyber, don't do that…" She sucked in her breath as his open mouth drew

strongly on her neck. She shivered.

He stopped to look at her. "Are you getting cold?"

Not hardly. But she nodded, discretion being the better part of valor. Now that

she wasn't under the influence of her raging hormones, she was beginning to get

slightly embarrassed. They were lying naked, outside in a lounge chair under the