It's Just Love (13 page)

When she was sure he was asleep, she slipped from the bed
and padded into the bathroom, closing the door and turning on the light. He’d
not said a word when he disposed of the condom, so he must not have realized
her secret, but the evidence of her virginity stained her thighs. She dampened
a washcloth and cleaned it away, tears slipping down her cheeks. Her first
lover, and he belonged to another. She’d allowed her heart and body to rule
her, and her promise not to reject another gift of the Goddess, but this was a
one-time thing.

Still, she would take from it what she could. She wiped her
tears and returned to bed, slipping into the cage of his strong arms and
snuggling back against him, willing to take the comfort of his body for the
rest of the night. After a long time, sleep dragged her into dreams of an
endless ocean stretching before her, a light breeze ruffling the waves, the
deck rolling beneath her feet, an arm around her waist…

Gage woke late in the night, still holding the soft bundle
that was Coral. He’d never, even in half-sleep, mistake her for his ex. He
buried his nose in her fragrant hair, inhaling her scent of jasmine and the
green apple he’d noticed before. Exotic, unlike Geena’s expensive perfume.
Also, he’d never held Geena all night; they’d always just rolled apart
afterward and slept side by side.

But he didn’t want to let go of Coral. She molded to his
body as if made for him. She hiccupped and snuggled closer, and he tightened
his grip across her breasts. Still not sure how the whole thing had happened,
he ran over the events of the evening before in his mind. They’d been on their
“undate” and then things took their own course. What the morning brought would
be another matter.

Weren’t Pagan types all about free love? He remembered the
giant box of condoms. It hadn’t been open…but that was probably just because it
was a new one.

He schooled his emotions not to get too overenthusiastic.
They’d made no protestations of affection, no promises of forever…they’d just
fallen into bed and had very satisfying sex. Then why couldn’t he loosen his
arms? Why did he listen to each breath she took as if his heart beat in rhythm
with hers?

She sighed and wriggled her round, firm bottom against his
cock, sending it from semi-hard to rock-hard. Maybe if he screwed her one more
time, he’d have her out of his system. Because it was only a physical
attraction to a beautiful, sexy woman—a mermaid goddess—and he had no factors
whatsoever to fall back on.

Gage ran his hands over her, stopping to cup her breasts and
massage the tips with his thumbs before dipping below her waist. He reached
between her pussy lips and stroked her clit, rubbing it with a slow, firm
touch.

She moaned and parted her legs, murmuring something under
her breath. So responsive, so wet. Rolling toward him, Coral smiled at him, her
eyelids droopy with sleep.

Despite his resolution to keep it physical, he feared she
was capable of taking his heart and putting it in a box on her mantel if she
chose. Did witches do that? He didn’t care—for the moment.

Taking advantage of her closeness, he dropped a kiss on her
soft lips, bringing her closer and linking his hands at her lower back. Her
nipples rubbed against his chest, and she brought a leg over his.

Gage rubbed his cock against her wetness, enjoying the feeling
of her skin against his. When she arched her back, making her core very
available, he groaned and reached behind him on the bed, hunting for the giant
box of protection. Finding it, he sheathed himself as quickly as possible,
trying not to move any farther away than he had to. Touching her seemed as
necessary as breathing.

“I want to make it good for you,” he whispered, dropping
kisses on her face. “But I need to be inside you.”

Coral brought a hand up to rub against his cheek. “Make love
to me. I want you.”

His heart and his libido lurched. Still on their sides,
face-to-face, he rocked his hips forward and back, each time coming closer to
her heated channel. “Anything you say.”

A strong thrust into her and she gasped. Pausing, he waited,
afraid he’d been too rough.

“Don’t stop.” She arched toward him. “Fuck me, now!”

“Whatever you say.” He pushed her flat and rose above her.
Her heavy-lidded gaze tore through him. Grateful for the slight radiance of the
streetlight through the window, he focused on her shadowy features, the slight
sheen of perspiration on her cheeks, and the pounding of his own heart, which
threatened to beat its frantic way free of his chest.

“Gage,” she cried as he shoved inside her all the way, and
slid back, again and again. With each surge, he came closer to coming—far too
soon. And after having sex a few short hours before…yet her tight heat sheathed
him, clenching around him. He struggled to restrain his passion, wanting her to
have pleasure as well, but she wrapped her legs around his hips and met him
thrust for thrust.

“No, wait. I want you to come first.”

“Shhh,” she said, burying her head in his neck and holding
him tight against her satin skin. “I want
you
to.”

Her generous words and slick, smooth body combined to send
him over the edge. He pumped fast and hard, lost in the tight clench of her
heat and fell into an abyss of pleasure, shooting his load into her while stars
spun in his head.

He fell, panting, to the side. “I’m sorry, I—”

She rose on an elbow to glare at him, her hair falling to
either side of her face like a silken curtain shielding them from the rest of
the world. “Don’t you be sorry for something that I loved so much.”

“Look, I have to tell you, about Geena…” He didn’t know what
to say, but she shook her head.

“No, you don’t have to tell me. I was wrong to do this when
you belong to someone else. But you were honest with me and I knew that. You
can be honest with her or not as it suits you, tomorrow.” She rubbed at her
eyes, and he caught a glimpse of shimmering moisture on her fingertip. “But
don’t let there be any lies or recriminations between us tonight, okay?”

He stripped off the condom and disposed of it then sank
deeper into the bed, wishing he could sink into the earth. No lies…no
recriminations…honest with her. He was scum. And how could he possibly tell her
the truth now and make her feel better—when he would be revealing himself as a
liar in doing so? He’d held Geena in place after she was gone.

Why? Pride? Book sales? And now he was damned if he told the
truth and damned if he didn’t. He closed his eyes, and she patted his cheek.

“We did what we did. I only hope you won’t regret it.”

“Coral, I will never regret a moment I’ve spent with you, or
anything we did in this bed,” he said with all his heart.

She licked her lips, and he watched the tip of her tongue
retreat back inside her mouth. “Good, then—if you want to stay—let’s get some
sleep, okay?” She plumped her pillow and turned onto her side, reaching back to
link her fingers with his and draw his hand between her breasts.

“Okay,” he said, going with the plan. There remained a few
hours before dawn, and he intended to stay awake and hold her, and remember
this one night for the rest of his life. After a time, his eyelids got heavy
and he drifted closer to sleep, but the woman in his arms remained anchored in
his dreams, holding him close to the room and to her sweet presence.

Gage woke to sunlight filtering through the curtains. The
same ones that had admitted the streetlight for the best night of sex he’d ever
had. He stretched and turned to his side, where Coral had been before he’d
fallen asleep.

Sounds of china clattering and an off-tune, warbling
rendition of some surf song he could almost identify assured him she hadn’t
gone far, so he headed for the bathroom to clean up a little before tracking
her down. He answered nature’s call and scrubbed his face and hands. A
washcloth would substitute for a toothbrush, at least enough to be able to face
the day, so he hunted around and borrowed one from a basket of pretty, folded
towels, hoping she wouldn’t mind. But as he reached to toss it in a rattan
clothes hamper, something caught his eye. Another cloth with a smear of…blood?

Had she cut herself on something? Cooking breakfast maybe? He
was about to go make sure she was all right when an improbable thought occurred
to him. Pacing to the bed, he flipped the covers back and found a matching
streak of reddish brown. She couldn’t have been a virgin, not a beach bunny
witch in her twenties. Not possible, and yet… And yet, she had been. She’d gone
tense when he first entered her, bitten her lip.

He’d taken her virginity, and she’d never said a word, never
let him know. Why him? Why last night? Didn’t she want something so important
to count? To be with someone special? Someone she cared about?

And then the second time, when he’d been worried about her
pleasure, she’d made it all about him. Was that inexperience then, instead of
the generosity of spirit he’d believed? No…she was a generous, kind person.

But why? The question rocked his therapist’s brain, but no
answers surfaced. Discomfited, he dressed before heading toward the kitchen,
where he expected to find Coral, but she was nowhere in sight. A teapot rested
on the counter, next to a note pinned down by a mug.

Gage,

Be back in a few. Help yourself to tea or make coffee
if you like. I just remembered you hate tea.

Coral

He turned and ran—walked quickly out of her house. Between
the lies he’d told and his stunning discovery in the restroom, he didn’t trust
his emotions. He wanted to kiss her and tell her the truth, but what if she’d
only used him to get rid of her virginity because he was taken and wouldn’t
want anything more from her? Yeah, that made perfect sense. A woman who looked
like Coral could find a hundred guys anywhere she went who would fight to take
her to bed. Then what? He had a girlfriend. Well, he didn’t, but she thought he
did.

Why would she sell herself so short? Angry at her, angrier
at himself, he didn’t look back. He closed her gate and strode toward the
parking garage where he’d left the Jag overnight! How good was the security
there? Did they have overnight parking at all? She’d taken him so far out of
himself he hadn’t even thought of his car. If it had been stolen or damaged…

Anxiety filled him at the thought of something happening to
the vehicle. He’d always taken such good care of it, of all his cars since the
first one his father bought him. To show such irresponsibility now, after years
of careful behavior, of taking care of all his belongings, of getting good
grades and achieving success in all his endeavors… What was going on?

Had she put a spell on him? She was a witch, and maybe the
concept was not entirely without reality. After all, the greatest minds of the
world often postulated that there was more on heaven or earth than could be
seen or measured.

Scientists didn’t think that—and he had always allied
himself with that type of thought. His very theories of relationship were based
upon a scientific principle, and he planned to do further field tests to prove
their validity.

But wasn’t that what this week had been about? Albeit a sort
of murky postulation, but a test to see whether a lack of any factors could be
overcome by two people who wanted one another a great deal? If they failed, he
won. He could explain on his return visit to the show that his book could help
potential couples determine their suitability in a long-term relationship.

Turning the corner, he spotted the garage and sped up,
anxious to get to his car, afraid of what he’d find. One more date, and he had
appointments to get to, and again a lack of sleep to overcome and not a moment
to fit in a power nap.

At the parking structure entrance, he left behind the bright
sunlight and entered a dim concrete cave. Dropping his pace to a slow walk, he
waited for his vision to adjust. He’d parked just inside, a few spaces to his
left.

“Thank God.”

“For?” A man stepped from the shadows behind the Jag, and
for a moment Gage struggled to remember his name.

“Tom?” That guy from the Harry Montclief show again. “What
are you doing here?”

He shrugged and took a sip from a cardboard cup. Coffee…Gage
needed coffee. No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than Tom thrust a
second cup in his direction. “Latte, light foam, two sugars.”

He’s getting spooky.
But Gage took it, because he
needed caffeine to think. “Thanks.”

“So, why were you expressing gratitude to the deity?” Tom
rested a jeans clad hip against the car, and Gage cringed. “Does it have
something to do with our friend Coral?” He smiled, and Gage feared he knew too
much about that too. “What did you two get up to after we met last night? Did
you have a good evening?”

“Why are you asking all these questions?” Gage fought the
urge to shove the other man off his car. He’d scrape the paint with the rivets
on his jeans anyway. “How well do you know her?”

“Ohh.” Tom took another sip from his cup and lowered it,
showing Gage an expression holding none of the impish good humor he’d displayed
until then. His eyes narrowed, and even the blue tips of his spiky hair looked
less ludicrous. He pushed off the car and…was he taller? Gage stared, giving an
involuntary shudder. There was something about Tom that made him feel small and
vulnerable. “I only met her the Friday before the show. The same day I arranged
with Aaron for you to be on. But I know you both very well.”

Gage inched toward his Jaguar, fishing in his pocket for the
keys, but Tom stepped in the way.

“I need to go.”

“I answered your question,” Tom said in a low, dangerous
tone. “Now it’s your turn.”