Night Moves: Dream Man/After the Night (69 page)

“Eventually. It was a long time before I felt anything, any kind of emotion. Before, I had felt everything, everyone else’s emotions, and after that I couldn’t even feel my own. I didn’t have any.”

“You healed, Marlie. It’s been a long time, but he didn’t win. He couldn’t break you.”

“He came damn close,” she said. She quietly rested against him for a minute. “If I hadn’t pushed him, if I’d given him what he wanted, probably Dusty would still be alive.”

Dane snorted. “Yeah, it’d be nice if we were all omnipotent.” He wasn’t going to waste his time babying the natural guilt she felt. He jostled her a little, forcing her to look up at him. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said deliberately.

She managed a fragile smile. “So am I. And sometimes that seems like the most callous thing of all, that I’m glad to be alive. I wasn’t thinking beyond the moment when I was laughing at Gleen; the only thing I knew was that I absolutely couldn’t bear for him to rape me. The thought of him being inside me was so revolting that I was willing to push him into killing me, rather than tolerate his touch. Of all the things that gave me nightmares, sex was the worst. I can watch some violence on television or in movies, but I still can’t watch a sex scene. I can’t think of it as love. I remember Gleen’s face, the smell of his breath, the way saliva sprayed when he screamed at me. I remember the feel of him against me, between my legs, and I still want to gag.” She took a deep breath. “Not that sex was ever good for me anyway,” she said honestly.

“How so?” His voice was undemanding, and his touch almost absent as he stroked her hair back from her temple, but his hazel eyes were intense.

She had never talked about the difficulty she’d had with sex, but somehow, lying cradled in his protective arms, with the rest of the world held at bay, she could. She felt oddly dreamy, caught in a combination of fatigue and the aftermath of stress, as if nothing else were quite real. “It was awful. Mentally, I couldn’t bear it. I had to work so hard to build a shield, to protect myself from everything,” she explained. “It was the only way I could function, and the shield was at best only a partial protection. All my life I wanted to be
normal.
I wanted to love someone, I wanted a relationship, I wanted what normal people had. I didn’t want to be alone. I wanted intimacy to be wonderful, but it wasn’t. Being intimate, physically, just blew away my mental shields. I couldn’t block out anything. The mental interference was enormous; all I could feel was
his
emotions, blotting out any physical enjoyment I might have felt. It wasn’t very flattering, either.” Her mouth quirked. “He wasn’t overcome by fondness for me; all he wanted was sex.
And he was feeling proud of himself for daring to have sex with a weirdo psychic.”

“The son of a bitch,” Dane said softly.

She lifted one shoulder in a small shrug. “I
was
weird. I still am.”

“Hell, no wonder you’re skittish about sex. All you’ve ever seen is the ugly side of it; you’ve never had any romantic illusions, have you? You know about scoring, and about rape. You must think men are scum.”

“No,” she denied. “When you know what other people are feeling, the way I did, you know that couldn’t be so. There are selfish, mean-spirited women just like there are nasty men. But when it came to sex, I couldn’t close my mind and just feel. It wouldn’t have been any different if I’d been madly in love with a wonderful guy who loved me just as much; I couldn’t have enjoyed sex with all that mental static going on.

“I think I had accepted that I couldn’t have any sort of romantic relationship,” she continued. “I liked being alone, in my little cabin in the mountains. Dr. Ewell thought that moving into the cabin was good for me, a move toward normalizing my life. And it was; it was great. I worked with him on experiments and documentation, and occasionally helped find missing people, though the effort involved was such a strain that—well, you know what it’s like. Once upon a time, before Gleen, I could direct the knowing. I could lock on to someone specific, and go into a vision. I can’t control it at all now.”

“Do you want it to be like before?”

“I never wanted to have another vision in my life,” she murmured. “But if I don’t have any choice about it, then yes, I’d like to be able to control them. This—this is like being ambushed.” She was getting drowsy again, and her eyelids drooped.

“But except for the two visions, you haven’t had any other episodes?”

She thought of the first night she had called him, and known what he was doing, what he would say, even as he answered the telephone. “There was one flash of clairvoyance, but it wasn’t related to the murders, and hasn’t happened again. It was just a second or two. I don’t think of the visions as clairvoyant episodes; they’re . . . different, more strongly grounded in emotion. Anyway—no. Nothing else.”

“Good.”

There was a wealth of dark satisfaction in his voice, a satisfaction she couldn’t quite decipher. Then his warm hand covered her breast, and she knew, with an instinct that had nothing to do with her psychic abilities, and everything to do with being a woman. No longer sleepy, she tilted her head back on his arm to look at him.

“It seems to me that now is the perfect time to show you some of the pleasure of sex,” Dane murmured. Those hazel eyes were blazingly intent, and deeply green. “You can’t feel my emotions, so that takes care of one problem. If you were afraid of me, you wouldn’t have been lying almost naked on my lap for half an hour, which takes care of the other problem. All you have to do is lie there and let me make you feel good.”

She quivered, her gaze locked with his. Was now the time? Until Dane, she hadn’t felt desire. Sex had been an experiment, a hope, and ultimately, a disappointment. She wasn’t afraid of him, but rather that she would fail again. Loving him was still so new, so startling, that she didn’t want to tarnish it. It was cowardly, but she would prefer to never try, and retain the frail hope that it might have been possible, than to try and fail. Might-have-been was a poor comfort, but better than nothing.

“I don’t know,” she said nervously. “What if—”

“Stop worrying about it,” he interrupted. “Just lie back, close your eyes, and leave everything to me.”

Easier said than done. Still she stared up at him with worried eyes, unable to decide yes or no. Too much had
happened to her for her to be able to make that move. She hated herself for being so weak, and tears began welling.

Dane gave her approximately two seconds, then settled the issue himself. He stroked down her body and beneath the waistband of her panties, tucking his hand into the notch between her thighs. Marlie cried out in surprise, automatically grabbing his wrist. Her thighs clamped tight around his hand. Her eyes were huge, eclipsing her wan face. But even as they stared at each other, hectic color warmed her cheeks.

“Do you trust me?” he asked in a calm voice, as if it weren’t taking every bit of self-control he had to keep from rolling her beneath him and sinking into her, finding blessed relief for his throbbing erection.

She chewed her lower lip, and he almost groaned aloud at the provocation. “Well, yes.”

“Then relax your legs. I’m not going to hurt you. As a matter of fact, I guarantee that you’ll like it.”

She managed a wobbly smile. “Guarantee, huh?”

“Absolutely.” He bent his head and brushed a gentle kiss across her mouth.

Marlie quivered, caught on the twin prongs of cowardice. She was afraid to try and fail, and afraid that if she didn’t trust him now, she might never have another chance. In the end, the second fear proved stronger. No matter what, she wanted to know what it was like to cradle Dane within her body, to feel his incredible strength as he drove into her, to give
him
pleasure if nothing else. He was determined to bring her to pleasure first, she knew, but she also knew that afterward it would be his turn. She wasn’t agreeing to just heavy petting, but to the complete sex act.

She drew a deep, shaky breath. “Okay. As long as I have your personal guarantee.”

“I’ll put it in writing and have it notarized,” he promised, and kissed her again.

She couldn’t control the fine tremors that shook her entire body, but she took another deep breath and slowly parted
her thighs. He gently stroked the soft, closed folds, and Marlie released her death grip on his wrist. “Easy now,” he whispered, then deftly opened her and penetrated her with one long finger.

She stiffened in his arms, her thighs locking together again in an effort to control his invading hand. It was useless, because there was nothing she could do to stop the slow probe of his finger inside her. Shock made her dizzy. Oh, God.

She wasn’t dry, but she was far from being ready for penetration. The friction made his finger seem as big as a penis. She struggled briefly to contain the chaos of her rioting nerve endings, then collapsed against his chest in surrender.

“There, that’s good,” he crooned, and pushed another finger into her. Her hips arched, then subsided. She felt stretched, invaded, her body no longer under her control. Some dormant, primal instinct was stirring into life. Her inner muscles contracted gently in adjustment, and Dane’s entire body shivered.

His voice was hoarse. “This is the most that I’m going to do to you, at least right now. You can relax because it’s already happened. Am I hurting you?”

Yes. No. She hadn’t realized it could feel like this. She was a little delirious with shock and pleasure, and shook her head, her hair cascading over his chest. She was stunned that her body was capable of such intense sensation.

“Then close your eyes, honey. Close your eyes and feel. Don’t think, just feel.”

Helplessly, she did. With her eyes shut, her concentration centered on her body and what was happening to it. Color swirled behind her eyelids. Heat surged through her, followed rapidly by a chill that wasn’t really a chill, but rather a ripple of almost painful delight. Her skin felt too tight, too sensitive. Her nipples puckered and hardened, standing firmly upright.

His fingers reached deep inside her, rasping her delicate
inner tissues. Helplessly she arched her hips again, taking his touch deeper within. Her thighs fell open, giving him easier access. Her heart was thundering, and she felt as if she might fly apart. She clutched his shirt, her fingers digging into the flesh beneath as she tried to anchor herself against the storm that was buffeting her.

She heard him say something, but there was a roaring in her ears and she couldn’t quite make out the words. The words weren’t important; she could hear the fierce tenderness in his tone, and that was what she needed. His fingers slipped out of her, and she made a soft sound of distress, her hips rolling toward him. Swiftly he stripped her panties off and returned his hand to her body. This time she willingly parted her thighs, and felt the eager dampness between them. The intrusion, when it came, was exquisite relief, yet the relief lasted only a moment. The slow thrust of his fingers elicited a deep, powerful hunger, so that his touch wasn’t an easing, but a need. Then his rough thumb searched upward in her soft folds and pressed on the small, tautly swelling nub at the top of her sex. Pure fire exploded through her nerves, and she gave a strained cry as she curled toward him.

He held her tightly against him, subduing her sensual struggles. He was talking to her, the words low and hoarse in her ear, encouraging her to greater heights while his strength kept her safely grounded. He continued to circle and rub with his thumb, tormenting the little nubbin, each touch making the fire burn hotter. A pulse began throbbing between her legs, beating in a rhythm she had never felt before. Passion was a brand, searing her flesh with its invisible mark.

“D-Dane!” It was a wail almost of anguish. He tilted her head back and set his mouth on hers, his tongue repeating the invasive movements of his fingers, the pressure hard and rough. She reveled in it, reaching up to cling to his heavy shoulders, offering her mouth more fully to him.

It built quickly, sensation spiraling into a tighter and
tighter coil, and suddenly it was too much. Her entire body clenched, then surged wildly as her climax rolled through her in waves. She shook in uncontrollable spasms, feeling as if she were flying apart. He held her close, letting her know that she wasn’t alone in the tempest. She cried out in a thin, hoarse voice, and he muffled the cries with his own mouth.

The crest of sensation subsided, though small shock waves continued to ripple through her loins. She went limp, her face buried against his chest while she gasped for breath. He shifted her, then his muscles tensed beneath her and he got to his feet, holding her firmly in his arms. She gripped his shirt as he carried her swiftly into the bedroom and placed her on the bed. Her robe was hanging on her shoulders, and he pulled it completely away, then stood and began stripping off his own clothes.

He hadn’t turned on the light, but the door was open, and light from the living room spilled across the bed. Marlie lay without moving, enveloped in a lassitude so complete that she thought she might never move again. In that quiet state of subconsciousness, with her physical senses so acute and her mental processes barely functioning, she could feel every slow, heavy beat of her heart as it moved blood through her veins. Her pulse throbbed in the tender places of her body.

With an effort, she lifted her heavy eyelids and watched him undress. His urgency was an almost palpable force, his movements swift and violent. In only seconds, his powerful form was bare. He crawled over her, his hard thighs pushing between hers and forcing them wide, then settled his heavy weight on her.

There was a wonderful stillness, a silence, both without and within. With incredible joy, and some trepidation, she felt the hardness of his genitals against the yielding softness of her own. He braced himself on one arm and reached between them with his other hand, guiding his shaft as he tensed his buttocks and slowly began pushing into her.

Marlie’s breath tangled in her throat, and she felt herself
drowning in sensation again. She had felt stretched by his fingers probing her, but his thick sex filled her to the point of distress. Though she was damp, her delicate inner tissues were swollen by his previous attentions; her sheath was ultrasensitive, tightening convulsively on him as he inexorably thrust himself to the hilt. She gave a soft, panicked sound of discomfort that verged on real pain.