Secrets in the Stone (27 page)

BOOK: Secrets in the Stone
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“You don’t disappoint me,” Rooke said incredulously. “I didn’t
want
anything when I started kissing you except to be close to you. Then it was so good, and I kind of got lost in you.”

“I love the way you kiss me,” Adrian whispered.

“That’s good then, right?”

“That’s good.” Adrian held out her hand and Rooke took it. At the touch of Rooke’s warm, strong fingers, some of Adrian’s turmoil receded, and she felt unexpectedly peaceful. “Thank you.”

“Do you still want me to stay with you in New York?”

“Of course,” Adrian said quickly, and then realized with a sinking sensation that Rooke might not be all that anxious to spend time with her after what had just happened. After all, she was sending the worst kind of mixed signals. “Would you rather not?”

“I was just thinking that maybe you’d be more comfortable if I stayed in a hotel or with Melinda.”

“No, I wouldn’t be.” Adrian tried not to shout that if Rooke stayed with Melinda she would very likely lose her mind. “I have two bedrooms. I think we’ll be safe.”

“Okay.”

“You know,” Adrian said, “you were supposed to be resting this evening, not getting a physical workout on top of dealing with my issues. How do you feel?”

Rooke laughed. “You think I’d rather be taking a nap than what we just did?”

“So maybe that was a dumb question.” Adrian smiled, her heart feeling lighter just seeing the way Rooke’s gaze played over her face, her eyes glinting as if she were seeing something that pleased her. “You really should be in bed, though.”

“I guess there’s no question about you sharing it with me.”

“Oh, no question at all. I’ll be right out here on the sofa.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Once in the bedroom, Rooke stripped down to her T-shirt and briefs and stretched out on top of her bed. She closed her eyes, but sleep was nowhere on the horizon. She hadn’t wanted to leave Adrian, fearing Adrian would be gone when she woke up. She’d missed Adrian all week, and then when she was finally so close, she couldn’t help but kiss her. And keep kissing her. She kept hearing Adrian’s broken whisper,
Baby, stop, you’re going to make me come.
She had never heard anything as amazing as those words. She got hard and wet and weak just remembering. Adrian had been excited too, but she’d said she needed to slow down. Rooke would, just as soon as she found the brakes. She sure hadn’t had any a few minutes ago. All she’d had was a craving so deep it felt bottomless and a mind-boggling sense of wonder at how magnificent Adrian tasted, how she smelled, how she moved, how her hands traveled urgently over Rooke’s body. She was pretty sure if she stayed in the living room with Adrian right now, she’d touch her again. And it wasn’t the right time—not for Adrian and maybe not for her. Adrian wasn’t Emma, and she already wanted more than she’d ever let herself want before. She’d learned not to want intimate connections—first when her mother left, before she could even remember her, then her father, then all the friends she might have had—had she been different. She kept apart, while secretly believing one day love would find her. So she turned on her side and soothed her rampaging senses by memorizing every scent, every indrawn breath, every whimper of pleasure and tremble of desire. Just in case this time was the only time.

Rooke opened her eyes to silence. She found a pair of sweatpants draped over a chair by her bed and pulled them on. Holding her breath, she crossed quickly and quietly to the bedroom doorway. The lamp by the sofa was on and Adrian sat propped up in one corner, the notepad open on her knees, frowning as she wrote something. She looked rumpled and tired and absolutely gorgeous. A golden tendril of hair teased around the corner of her mouth and Rooke thought about skating her tongue over Adrian’s, of dipping into the furnace of her mouth and coming away stripped to the bone. Her hands tingled at the remembered touch of smooth skin and taut nipples, and her stomach tensed with the memory of Adrian’s thighs clasping hers. Adrian’s body was steel beneath satin and her strength called to Rooke.

Rooke smelled pizza and was glad for the diversion. Her imaginings were stirring her up fast and hard. “I hope you didn’t wait for me to eat.”

Adrian’s heart gave a little jump at the sound of Rooke’s voice, and when she swiveled on the couch and got a look at her, her stomach took a nosedive. Rooke leaned leisurely in the doorway, one arm stretched out along the frame. Her gray sweatpants hung low on her hips, exposing the curving arches of her hipbones and a palm’s breadth of tight skin and etched abdominal muscles beneath the lower edge of her T-shirt. Adrian had a second to imagine the similar sharply carved muscles in her chest before she remembered the demanding thrust of those lean hips between her thighs. And then the three hours she’d had to settle her body and regain some semblance of control over her runaway libido might just as well have never passed. She was immediately, excruciatingly aroused. Her response not only annoyed and embarrassed her, it frightened her more than a little.

All her life she’d shielded herself from the unwanted sensations and emotions that assaulted her at the slightest touch. Sometimes those feelings were just errant glimpses of other people’s lives, brushed off on her in passing, accidental intimacies neither sought nor embraced. Sometimes the emotions she blocked out were her own—the pain of being the disappointing daughter, the horror of human tragedies she’d witnessed, the loneliness of guarding the only thing she could call her own. Her independence. Now and then people slipped through those barriers—Jude had, with her easy friendship and uncanny perceptiveness. Adrian loved Jude the way she had never been able to love her own sister, but she’d never once felt a spark of attraction. She’d convinced herself that casual relationships with women were all she needed or had time for, and hadn’t bothered to ask herself why even her fleeting encounters had become more and more unusual in the last few years. Now, in the space of a few weeks, two women had stepped inside her most defended circle and unleashed chaos in her mind and body.

She gazed at Rooke and grew breathless at the memory of Rooke’s seeking mouth, the weight of her hard, hot body, the demanding tug of her fingers on her breasts. What had truly changed, she realized, was that she
wanted
Rooke to breach the barriers. She welcomed the fury and fire of Rooke’s touch, even knowing she might never be able to put those walls back up again. And that realization shook her to her very foundation.

“Pops just brought the pizza,” Adrian said, her throat dry. The pen quivered between her fingers and she closed it in her fist so that Rooke wouldn’t see. “Did you sleep?”

“Some. I guess you didn’t.” Rooke pushed away from the door and walked into the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator. “Beer? Soda?”

“Soda’s fine. No beer for you, remember.” Adrian wasn’t sure she would ever sleep again, not the way her body was behaving. When Rooke had gone into the bedroom earlier, she’d curled up on the sofa and waited for her body to calm down. Ordinarily if she’d been that agitated and aroused, she would’ve gone for a run or to the gym or taken a long shower. None of those options had been available to her and although she’d desperately wanted to come, she knew if she masturbated and managed to climax at all, she would only need to do it again, because it wouldn’t be enough. She wanted Rooke’s hand, Rooke’s mouth, Rooke’s fingers to deliver her from her agony.
Reality check, reality check!
her logical mind screamed. That line of thinking was dangerous and she needed to get some perspective. Like yesterday.

“Can I ask you something personal?” Adrian said as Rooke stacked plates and napkins on top of the pizza box and carried those along with two cans of soda into the living room. She hastily moved papers aside to make room on the coffee table.

“Yes.” Rooke placed the food in the space Adrian had cleared and settled onto the couch, leaving space between her body and Adrian’s.

“Are you… Hell, this is awkward.” Adrian leaned back and stared at the ceiling, which she now realized was an intricate pattern of stamped tin. She could make out interconnected designs reminiscent of Rooke’s carvings on the gravestones—and also near replicas of the scars on the surface of her hands. Beautiful. Rooke’s world was the physical, metal and stone, and now Adrian’s body seemed to have become a part of Rooke’s domain.

“Just ask, Adrian.”

Adrian straightened. Rooke’s voice was carefully neutral, her expression resigned, as if she were used to people not understanding her. As if she were used to being someone others couldn’t comprehend. And that wasn’t the case at all—Adrian was the one at sea here. “Have you ever been with a woman? I mean, all the way with a woman. Jesus—that sounds so adolescent.”

“I understand what you’re asking,” Rooke said quietly. She stared at her loosely clasped hands resting on her thighs. “I’ve pleasured a woman, but we didn’t share ourselves completely.” She met Adrian’s inquisitive stare. “I’ve never been naked with anyone. I’ve never had an orgasm with anyone.”

Adrian’s breath escaped on a short gasp of shock. “Oh God.”

Rooke stood abruptly and strode to the kitchen. She gripped the edge of the counter and stared out the window over the sink. The crystal-clear day had been followed by an equally brilliant night, and moonlight flooded the cemetery. Gravestones jutted from the icy surface like darkened doors hanging ajar in deserted houses. So many souls, so many stories, so many secrets. She knew exactly where her parents’ graves were. When she’d been younger, she would stare at the indecipherable markings on their gravestones, hoping to find some place inside herself to preserve their names, but she couldn’t. She worried that the relentless assault of the elements would erase their names, like it had on so many of the other stones. When she’d asked her grandfather about it, he’d assured her it was the nature of things to ultimately be absorbed by the world that created them, but that the stones would hold their memories for many lifetimes. It was then she realized that if life returned to the stone, it could emerge from it as well, and she had begun to seek her satisfaction in setting that life free. All the while, she’d clung to the belief that one day there would be a woman to set her free.

“Are you worried I won’t know what to do?” Rooke asked, her back to Adrian.

“You’re kidding, right?” Adrian hurried to her, and against her better judgment, wrapped her arms around Rooke’s waist from behind. She rested her chin lightly between Rooke’s shoulder blades, breathing in her tangy, tantalizing scent. “If you’ll recall, I was two seconds away from coming just from kissing you. Believe me, I’m not worried about your technique.”

“Why didn’t you let yourself come?” Rooke asked, running her fingertips over Adrian’s arms. “I would have liked that. I would have liked to feel you tighten when you got close, and then feel you shudder when you let go. I would have liked to hear you while the pleasure took you.”

A fresh jolt of excitement struck directly between Adrian’s legs, making her tremble. She whimpered softly and shut her eyes tightly. “Be careful or you’ll talk me into coming.”

Rooke loosened Adrian’s grip and turned, putting her back to the counter and tugging Adrian against her. She wanted to touch her, wanted to please her. She wanted to be the one to give her that. “You’re still so excited, I can feel you shaking. Could you do that—come from me telling you how much I want you?”

“I never have before,” Adrian murmured, sinking into Rooke’s arms, wondering how much more she could stand before she just lost it. “But you aren’t like anyone I’ve ever met before. You do things to me…”

“Bad things?”

Adrian kissed Rooke’s throat, then rubbed her cheek against Rooke’s shoulder. “No. Wonderful things.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” Rooke rested her chin on top of Adrian’s head and stroked up and down Adrian’s back, imprinting the contours of her muscles and bone. Adrian burrowed into her, giving a small mewl of pleasure, and hunger rose up in Rooke’s belly like a great beast scenting its prey. She pressed one thigh between Adrian’s legs and Adrian immediately opened for her. Reaching down, she cupped Adrian’s rear and worked her leg more tightly into Adrian’s center.

“I can’t remember right now.” Adrian’s head reeled. She might have held on to reason a little while longer if Rooke hadn’t handled her like she owned her. Adrian dropped her head back, her hazy eyes half closed, her lips parted sensuously. “You make me feel so damn good.”

Rooke rocked her thigh between Adrian’s legs and watched her start to surrender. She slipped one hand between them and caressed the outer curve of Adrian’s breast. Adrian sagged and Rooke couldn’t think of anything except having her. Until Adrian told her to stop, she would follow the call of Adrian’s flesh. Bending her knees slightly, she cradled Adrian’s rear, lifted, and set her up on the counter.

Astonished, Adrian gripped Rooke’s shoulders and automatically spread her legs to let Rooke slide between them. When she glanced down, her center was pressed to Rooke’s abdomen and oh God, she ached to have her bare sex against the tight muscles she’d glimpsed earlier. She wanted to be touched. She wanted Rooke to touch her. She sensed danger, but she couldn’t think. She couldn’t think.

“I can’t think,” Adrian gasped, frightened and so terribly aroused.

Rooke unbuttoned Adrian’s blouse and pushed it off her shoulders. She kissed the prominence of her collarbone, the soft hollow beneath, and rubbed her cheek over Adrian’s breast still cupped within her satin bra. “I’ll stop whenever you want me to. I swear it.”

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