Soul Whisperer (11 page)

She did, moving into her master bath, with the huge tub, separate shower and fluffy towels. Beyond lay her walk-in closet, the deepest sanctuary of her home. She stepped along the white marble floor, the stone cold beneath her bare feet.

Inside the closet, the plush lavender carpet embraced her feet. Beyond, the upholstered hot pink and royal purple bench squatted before a magenta wall, which was mounted with rows of custom-built cubbies from floor to ceiling. They held her footwear, boots at the bottom, flats on the top and in between every variety of black shoe imaginable. Her purses, clutches, satchels and bags were displayed to the right, each in its own lavender cubby. To the left lay the wall of clothing. She needed the colored walls here, because her wardrobe had none. Nor did she want anything on her person other than black.

Had Cesar stood in this spot, trying to understand her? She studied the carpet, noting the indentation that was too long and deep to be anyone's other than a man. She stepped into the place he had vacated, looking at her clothing. Had he touched them?

She let the thrill of excitement pass through her at the thought of him here. It seemed she was not the only curious one. He might dismiss her as only partly human, but he'd been snooping like a frat boy in a sorority house. She'd a good mind to count her underwear.

Bess stroked her thumb over the words he had written, blue ink on the white card, his handwriting small and neat. Then she set the card on the dressing table and pulled open the appropriate drawer, staring down at her most intimate apparel.

“Did you go on a panty raid, Cesar?”

Bess touched her cape, transforming it into the necklace Cesar had first noticed her wearing. Tonight she would wear clothing, human clothing, and keep her cloak with her at all times. He'd already shown what he thought of her and she'd not be caught defenseless again.

She selected a black lace push-up bra and matching panties, embellished with small clear crystal beads. Next she considered her footwear, choosing high boots. Bess pushed the hangers, flicking from one skirt to the next until she came to a scrap of satin that would hug her hips but had some flounce in it. She chose a V-necked cashmere sweater with princess sleeves. Accessories. Designer clutch, wide leather belt, beaded rope necklace tied in a knot.

Men didn't notice designers. They noticed textures, soft, satiny, silken, and she had created an outfit that had all three. Beneath the sweater, her feather cape now sat transformed into just her choker and it would remain there about her neck no matter how the evening evolved.

Bess glanced at herself in the full-length mirror, deciding she needed lipstick. After applying bright ruby-red, she dropped the cylinder back in place before glancing at the card once more.

Call me
.

Oh, she'd do better than that.

She lifted the card and noticed something she had missed before. The line beneath his cell phone number was, in fact, an arrow.

She flipped the card and read:

I've seen them.

Seen them? Her heart pounded and everything
about her faded until she could see only his words, blue against the white paper. Was he all right?

Bess was halfway to the windows when the logical part of her mind kicked in. If he had been injured would he have come here, left flowers and a note?

She paused, her heart still hammering painfully in her chest. He was all right and she'd be damned if she'd let him know how much his note had frightened her.

Bess pressed her free hand to her forehead trying to think. What exactly had he seen? She needed to find out.

T
he intercom phone in Cesar's apartment gave a sedate purring ring. His senses went on instant alert. None of his kind would come to his home. Was it her?

Cesar closed the electronic document of the most recent attacks on his secure computer and closed the laptop, annoyed at the way his heart galloped at the possibility that Bess might be there. Then he hesitated, realizing that if she chose to visit him, she would more likely arrive unannounced upon his balcony. It gave him a flush of shame that since their parting, he had kept his outdoor entrance unlocked just in case she wished to visit. She hadn't.

He hit the button. “Yeah?”

“Visitor, Mr. Garza. A Ms. Suncatcher to see you. Shall I send her up?”

At the name Suncatcher his insides squeezed as if bracing for a blow. He was in such a mad rush to see her
again, he punched the button with unnecessary force, causing the Sheetrock, upon which it perched, to collapse like the shell of an egg.

He cursed.

“What's that, Mr. Garza?”

“Send her up.” He hadn't intended for his tone to be so harsh.

“Oh, yes, sir.”

He tucked in his shirt and then glanced around the place, which he began hurriedly straightening.

The doorbell chimed as he brushed his teeth. So that was what the doorbell sounded like, he thought as he retraced his steps to the front door, frowning as he took in the buzzer's now skewed position in the bowing Sheetrock.

He was still frowning when he opened the door.

 

Bess had run down the corridor to his apartment and pressed the bell. Now she stood, breathless from fear before his closed door, waiting for some sight of him. She knew in her mind he was all right, had waited while the attendant downstairs spoke to him. Yet, still she could scarcely breathe past the hard knot of worry in her throat. She needed to see him with her own eyes.

She tapped her fingers on her thighs as she waited, the dread creeping through her as she recalled how fast and deadly they were. They'd almost caught her. Cesar had amazing powers, but speed was not one of them. He was all right, wasn't he?

When the door swung open, the air filled her lungs in a sweet rush. There he stood, tall and whole. Thank the Great Spirit!

She forgot her cool demeanor, her affectation of so
phistication and her past grievances in the rush of relief that washed over her like seawater.

Bess reached, cradling his strong stubbly jaw between her two hands as she searched for injuries. The zing of first contact tingled up her arm. He grinned at her and she read the satisfaction he derived from her worry.

She didn't care. He was safe.

He took hold of her hips and drew her in, his desire sparking inside her like a signal flare against the night sky. She responded with a hot rush of longing. He spun her inside and kicked the door closed.

“You saw them.”

“Yes.” His whisper was a caress.

He bent forward to kiss her.

“But you're all right?”

Cesar was pressing her backward, kissing her neck as he pushed her from the foyer to the living room. She bumped against the couch. His hands moved from her waist, sliding up her ribs until he held each of her breasts in his hands. At the sweet pressure of his touch, she threw her head back, giving him her throat.

She dropped her purse on the entryway rug.

“I visited the Ghost Road.”

He lifted his lips a millimeter from her throat to whisper his reply, his hot breath fanning her wet skin. “Later.”

“It's important.”

“So is this.”

They tumbled over the back of the couch, Bess landing first and Cesar on top of her.

“But…”

He lifted up to stare at her, his dark eyes glittering with passion. Her breath caught.

“Are you in danger?”

She shook her head. An instant later she felt his reaction—sweet relief.

“Am I?”

“No,” she whispered.

His smile was wicked. “Then it can wait an hour.”

Yes. It could wait, everything could wait for them to burn this passion to ash. An hour. A perfect hour in his arms.

“All right.”

Cesar tugged at her sweater. “Make it disappear.”

She met his longing gaze with a satisfied smile.

“Can't. It's real. If you want it off, you'll have to do it the conventional way.”

“Love to.” He rolled from her and sat on the metal corner of the glass coffee table. “Stand up.”

She did, rising like a phoenix, her skin aflame. He lifted her foot and she allowed it, using his shoulders to steady herself, when in fact her balance was perfect. She kneaded the thick muscles of his shoulders as he removed her shoe and cast it aside. She flinched at seeing her expensive footwear so misused. She stepped down and offered her other foot, placing it in his crotch so that the heel was poised to do serious damage.

He removed this one as well, but set it gently beside him on the coffee table and she realized he had read her distress at the treatment of its mate. She met his knowing look and nodded her approval.

She stood before him between the couch and the coffee table, where he sat.

In her bare feet, she was several inches shorter, so now her breasts were just even with his mouth. He lifted her long beaded necklace, careful to rub his
knuckles over her breasts as he removed it. Bess gasped at the sheer pleasure of his touch.

How delicious.

She released her belt, held it out to her side at arm's length and dropped it on his rug. Then she reached behind herself and unhooked her skirt, lowering the zipper so the waistband slid to her hips. He reached beneath it, his hands brushing her thighs as he drew it off, letting the scrap of satin drop around her ankles. He took the time to admire the sheer thong before stroking the downy thatch of dark hair through the lace. The tingle of anticipation burrowed deep. He slipped a finger under the elastic that sat high on her hip and gave it a little snap. The pleasing sting made her twitch with anticipation.

Cesar now held the hem of her cashmere sweater. He stood to lift it, leaning in to kiss her bare stomach, taking advantage of the exposed skin revealed by her receding garment, his mouth eager and hot. For a moment soft, fluffy cashmere brushed her cheek and then his mouth was on hers again. Their tongues danced a fiery tango as he reached between her breasts and expertly released the clip that held her bra in place.

She giggled.

He drew back enough to look at her, but did not let her go. His look asked the question.

“How did you know where the clasp was?” she asked.

His shrug said he didn't kiss and tell. The man had skills and she didn't begrudge all the hours of practice, for it would now be to her benefit.

She set to work releasing the small white buttons of his shirt, pleased to see that he was not so old-fashioned that he wore an undershirt. When she finished, he un
fastened his cuffs and shrugged out of his shirt as she caressed his chest and licked his nipples. He liked that, judging from his rapid breathing and the hum of pleasure. His rising excitement flowed from him to her, doubling her need.

Bess took her time returning to his mouth. Too much time, for she could feel his impatience building like a shaken bottle of champagne. He threaded his fingers in her long, loose hair and used this handhold to drag her up to receive his kiss.

Commanding. She liked that.

His fingers tightened, sending an exciting tingle through her scalp. Had he read her thrill? He pulled her back so that she could see his face.

“I want to take you right here on the carpet.”

“Yes.”

Cesar kicked the coffee table aside, exposing more of the plush white carpet that felt thick as sheepskin beneath her feet.

He didn't release her as he guided her down to the ground. She let him carry her to her back. He unhitched his trousers and she pushed them down over his taut backside, using her nails to score his skin. The electric pop of exhilaration from her action reached her an instant later. It was so easy to tell what he liked and for him to learn what made her senses soar.

He ducked away from her, using his teeth to grasp one side of her thong. He used his hand on the other, dragging the lace away, exposing her most sensitive skin.

Cesar held up the thong like a battle trophy, his smile triumphant. Then he wrapped the thong about his hand and used the lace to brush across her nipples, arousing her even more. She wiggled impatiently and reached for
him. He didn't make her wait. Instead he used his knee like a wedge to push her legs apart, settling between them.

She locked her heels behind his lean flanks and pulled. He fell forward, catching himself on his forearms, with one hand planted at each side of her head.

“I want to kiss you,” he said.

She lifted her chin and offered her lips.

“Not on the mouth.”

She smiled and inclined her head. He dropped, smothering her with the weight of his body, before moving his attention to her ear, her neck, her breasts. His hands preceded him, like an advance team, making her skin tingle with his feathery touch before his mouth even reached her naked flesh.

“You smell so good. I could eat you up.”

She hoped he would.

He stroked and kissed down her ribs and over the gentle mound of her stomach as she braced in anticipation, splaying her legs wide. Was this how his human's behaved? Uncertainty niggled as she second-guessed her actions.

When his tongue reached her cleft, her head fell back at the thrill and her thoughts broke apart. That electric buzz of energy that came from each touch between them was now centered entirely on her most sensitive skin. She arched to meet his eager mouth and muscular tongue. Her breathing became erratic as her climax approached. Her hands first dug into the thick pile of the carpet and then into the thick hair at his scalp.

The cry began in her throat and ended in his as the stellar orgasm burst inside her and careened out, curling her fingers and toes. She panted and writhed, taken up in the pleasure until nothing existed but her bliss.
Then she fell back, her lungs starving for oxygen, her body replete. Cesar laid his head on her belly and continued to stroke her wet cleft. He seemed to be breathing as heavily as she was, as if he'd just come as well.

That thought brought her up to her elbows. Had he?

But what if he also… She'd been anticipating feeling him inside her again and felt a jolt of disappointment.

He gave a growl that turned into a laugh as he rose to his hands and knees, giving her a perfect view of his magnificent erection.

She glanced to his face and saw his half smile.

“I did feel it. But I didn't come. Yet. That was amazing.”

Cesar stalked up her body, taking his time. Bess used her foot to stroke him from hip to calf as she waited impatiently for him to enter her.

He kissed her deeply as he slid inside. The sensation was exquisite as the rush of pleasure, his and hers, merged and intensified like a cloud giving forth both thunder and lightning. Bess trembled from the pure delight as her body quickened again.

She lifted her hips to more fully enjoy the sliding friction of his thrusts and then wrapped her strong legs about him, like a python, drawing him deep. He drove as she bucked, each stroke bringing him closer. She felt it begin, crying out even before he did as the hot rush of his orgasm erupted inside his body then through hers. He arched against her, plunging deep, threw back his head and cried out his satisfaction in one guttural shout.

At last, his eyes opened and he met her gaze. The look of wonderment struck her with his feeling of awe. This joining had been more powerful than the last.

The niggling fear woke within her. She had slept
with him twice and would do it again if he let her. Why had she believed she could have him and move on?

She pushed back her rising panic, hoping to disguise her emotional turbulence by breaking contact before he sensed her emotions.

In a move she hoped would appear playful, she tugged at his wrist. Bess pulled, throwing him off balance and rolling him onto his back as she splayed across his chest, belly and thighs. He was warm and lethargic and their bodies were both slick from perspiration and sex.

“Delicious,” she cooed.

He slapped one palm to his forehead and closed his eyes. “Wow.”

Without opening them, he cradled her head to his chest and used the other hand to grope around on the couch until he located the afghan, then made a halfhearted attempt to cover them, succeeding only in blanketing their torsos, but leaving her behind and their legs uncovered.

Had he noticed anything amiss?

She felt his body powering down, like a race car gliding after crossing the finish line. The muscles of his thighs twitched, his arm jerked once.

He hadn't.

“I thought you said an hour,” she whispered.

He opened one eye and peeked at her. “That includes napping.”

He pressed her head back to his chest and patted it as if she were a fretful child that he wanted to be good. She gave a laugh and closed her eyes.

“Bess?” he whispered. “You're amazing.”

“No. We're amazing.”

She felt her legs twitch, as well. Bess hadn't meant to
sleep, but she must have, because she woke when Cesar pulled her off his chest and nestled her along his side. When she opened her eyes, he stroked her hair from her face.

She smiled up at him. He was a wonderful lover. Bess was so damned glad that nothing had happened to him out there.

He returned her smile with a tender one of his own.

“Been a long time since someone cared whether I came home or not.”

“Don't read too much into it.” She tried to keep her tone light, knowing he wasn't fooled. His expression told her that he'd felt her concern as surely as if it had been his own.

His smile broadened. “I'm fine, thanks.”

She scowled, trying not to think about why it so irritated her that he was experiencing her concern for him right now. She shouldn't care what happened to him, really? To be worried over his welfare was nearly the same as worrying about the safety of a great white shark trapped in a swimming pool full of bathers. Yet she had rushed over here like some damned fool.