The West Wind (14 page)

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Authors: Morgan Douglas

BOOK: The West Wind
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Anna’s steely eyes followed Xander and Hero as they danced. The
music was all swing with a little blues, DJd by Brian. During the first song, a
lindy hop, they joked about her mother’s Medusa-like glare. The second, they
got so caught up in their dancing they barely noticed. During the third it
began to get uncomfortable as the intensity failed to lessen. As the song
ended, Xander dipped Hero and turned her over to one of her guests who wanted
to dance.

 

Jessica approached Xander from the far side of the room, but he
shook his head apologetically and gestured toward Hero’s mother.

“Would you like to dance?” he asked, reaching for her hand.

Anna looked at him like a deer in the headlights. She paled
nervously.

The next song had already begun to play as she answered a little
too vigorously, like someone both delighted and frightened by the idea. “Oh,
no. I couldn’t possibly. It’s been far too long and I don’t know how to do all
that Lindy hop stuff.”

“No worries,” Xander said. “We’ll just dance.” He took her gently
by one hand.

“No, it’s alright. You go dance with one of those nice young
ladies.”

He pulled her softly toward the floor, and she followed him, hesitating,
but not entirely involuntarily.

Without moving to the steps of any particular dance, Xander
twirled and spun Anna gently and easily, though the music playing was meant for
faster movement. The tight scrunching of her eyebrows relaxed as they danced.
He moved her carefully through simple patterns he was confident he could lead
anyone through. Without any worry of footwork or technique, Anna broke into a
smile. Xander had taken her into a closed position when he felt someone tap on
his shoulder. He stopped and looked back to see Hero’s father standing next to
them.

“Mind if I cut in?” Jared DiBenedetto asked, a twinkle in his eye.

“Not at all,” Xander said, bowing slightly to Anna and placing her
hand into her husband’s.

Xander stood off to the side and watched as Hero’s parents danced.
Jared spun his wife out of a closed position and brought her back in with an
ease that showed he wasn’t a complete stranger to dancing. When the song ended,
he dipped her into a kiss, looking for all the world like a picture from the
1940s.

“Ladies and Gentleman, Jared and Anna DiBenedetto,” Brian said
into the mic he had set up at the DJ booth, gesturing to the older couple. Some
of the younger guests clapped and whistled. Anna blushed a little as they
stood. Xander smiled and Hero joined him, nestling into his side as her parents
made their way off the dance floor arm in arm. Jared nodded to his daughter and
her boyfriend as they walked up.

“You’re not the only one who can cut a rug, young man,” Jared said
with a wink.

“I am pleasantly surprised, sir,” Xander replied.

Hero’s father offered his wife’s hand back to the youth and
whisked his daughter away to dance. Xander walked Anna back out with less
protest this time and they danced again.

 

 

Eventually the guests began to leave, filtering out slowly as the
night wore on. By midnight, only Xander, Hero, their parents and the Coven
remained. Leana was asleep on Jeremy’s lap at one of the tables, and he held
her though she were some kind of precious, delicate thing that he would never
let go. From the grimace that occasionally crossed his face, Xander figured it
was a good guess that at least one of Jeremy’s legs had fallen asleep. He
wouldn’t have guessed Jeremy was the type to suffer just to avoid waking her,
but love always brings out the unexpected in people.

 

Xander wandered about the ballroom, idly cleaning up a plate here
and a glass there while Hero was away saying goodbye to the DiBenedettos. The
Coven had arranged to stay the night, the girls in the guest room set aside for
Hero’s use and the guys in the cupola, upstairs and on the other side of the
house. It had taken a lot of pleading and cajoling on Hero’s part, since her
parents were none too certain about it, but in the end neither of them could
deny their little girl anything on her birthday and, as Hero said again and
again, she was 18 now and could make her own decisions. Anna had her own
opinions about that, but had held onto them for the moment, on the
understanding that Zach would agree to chaperone the teenagers.

 

Xander laughed to himself. As soon as the DiBenedettos had said
goodnight and headed for the door, Zach had said one word to Xander and excused
himself to the library.

“Propriety,” Xander repeated quietly, laughing again.

He looked around the room. Brian had fallen asleep on a couch set
up behind the DJ booth and Jeremy still sat like a sleepy statue cradling
Leana. Jaimie and Evan had slipped off somewhere. Hero walked back in and
looked around before meeting Xander’s eyes. He looked at her with a smile and a
silent question. She nodded and smiled in answer. Xander took her hand and
pulled her out of the room and down the hall toward his room. They stopped by
the door of the library. Xander intended to let his dad know where they were
going, but Zach’s snores greeted them from within.

 

Hero let Xander lead her up the stairs to the cupola in the dark.
The absence of light expanded the rest of her senses and she could hear the
rough scuffing of his pants with each of his steps, and the deep, solid weight
of his breathing. He went up carefully, waiting to feel through their connected
hands that she was certain of her balance before each step. The storm clouds
had blown away and moonlight spilled through the open door at the top. In spite
of finally having curtains, Xander still left them open most of the time.

 

The young lovers slipped into the room like a whispered secret.
The four-poster bed Hero had picked out now rested in the air mattress’ place.
Xander had barely made it off the stairs when he turned and pulled Hero gently
the rest of the way up and straight into a kiss. Her lips met his with a hunger
that had been building throughout the day like water behind a dam and she
melted into him. He didn’t hold her back this time, but returned her fervor
with hungry kisses of his own. Her hands clawed at the buttons of his shirt,
pulling it open one by one and baring the skin beneath. He began to explore the
shape of her, his hands encompassing her shoulders. Firm fingers slid across
her ribs, thumbs brushing the underwire of her bra through the satin of her
dress. Her fingers ran across his chest, marveling at the muscles moving
beneath his skin.

 

Two strong hands held her at the waist as his kisses trailed along
the line of her chin toward the side of her neck. The heat of his mouth burned
like tiny fires that grew hotter as he reached the more sensitive skin at his
destination. His tongue found a spot behind her earlobe she hadn’t known was
erogenous and as he made contact her whole body rolled against his like a wave
against the shore. As warmth flooded through her she wondered in a passing
thought if somehow he had made her flammable. His teeth scored lightly against
flesh and the thought disappeared as tiny tremors shook her.

 

Xander’s lips slowly traveled down, then across her collarbone,
each kiss the collective work of this tip of his tongue and his lips’ full,
lingering weight. When a particular spot drew a sudden intake of breath from
her, he paused and kissed deeper, attentive to her sensitivity and storing the
information for later. Tonight he would explore her, discover where to touch to
make her breath catch in her throat, where on the map of her skin his kisses
drew a soft moan of pleasure, where the brush of his fingers would make her
hips rock and grind against him with desire. Tonight she was his, the One, a
goddess to worship with hands and mouth and tongue. Beyond the windows and the
door, the world became the far stretching reaches of the solar system, light
years away. This room, and Hero, became the entire world.

 

Hero, in the meantime, was certain she was going to go crazy. She
pulled his shirt from his shoulders and tossed it in whatever direction her
hand happened to be pointing. She wasn’t paying attention and didn’t care. Her
head rolled back to open her neck for more kisses and she pulled her hair away
to bare the skin. His slow, unhurried discovery of her was not the kind of
attention she was used to receiving from the boys she had known and it stoked
the flame burning within her, a passion so new to her she barely recognized the
person pressing herself into the man she loved. She was still fully clothed and
felt like he was making love to her. Without the hurry she was used to, she
felt cherished, wanted, loved, needed. She felt like a woman.

 

The intensity of his concentration on her pleasure centers
transcended the physical and a part of her felt like she was floating in an
ocean of moonlight. The craving to carpet the floor with their clothing and
make him part of her was driving Hero mad. The first true moan escaped her as
his teeth sank gently into the lobe of her left ear.

 

His hands began to trace her contours against as his lips
rediscovered hers. His fingers stopped just above her knee. The hem of her
dress draped over his wrist. The pause was tentative, as if he was asking if
she was certain she was willing. Her answer was short and almost irritated as
she grabbed his wrist and yanked it up to her thigh. At the same time she
expressed her irritation by biting his lower lip, firmly, but not painfully.
She felt him smile and kissed him hard. His fingers continued their journey
upward, the tips of his fingers sliding up under the lace trimmed boycut
bloomers where the cloth covered the rise of her pelvic bone. He slid them down
the inside edge, touching her so lightly it was maddening. When they slipped
down between her thighs and encountered the dampness that had soaked through
the cloth, his eyebrows shot up and he paused mid-kiss.

 

“Wow,” he murmured, then leaned to kiss her neck again.

“What did you expect?” Hero said in a husky voice in his ear. “The
entire day has been one giant fucking round of foreplay.” She rocked her hips
against his hand, eager to feel his fingers on her. It was pleasantly
frustrating when he slipped them away. Xander gathered her undergarments in one
hand on each side, her skirts baring long stretches of leg, and dropped to her
ankles. One foot, then the other lifted out of them and she kicked off to the
side. She had to kick a few times, as they caught on a heel before flying off
into the half-light.

“I want you,” she growled into a fierce kiss.

“Good things come to those who wait,” he murmured playfully.

Hero wasn’t certain how someone could be so obnoxious and so
damned sexy at the same time. Her train of thought derailed completely,
however, as his hand found its way back up her skirt, and fingertips trailed
over the smooth skin of her pelvis and found what they were looking for.

 

A sudden intake of breath told Xander he had found the right spot.
Hero quickly found it harder to stand as his fingers shifted and rolled against
her. A thrill like lightning ran through her body as a fingertip came into
direct contact with the bundle of nerves tied directly to the pleasure centers
in her brain. Her legs started to shake. The feeling grew more and more intense
as the lightning struck once, then twice, then a third time. Her lover grinned
as her hands clutched his shoulders for stability and her forearms pressed
against his chest. Soft cries escaped from her throat as the storm gathered
inside of her and he bent to find the sensitive skin of her neck again. Hero’s
whole body began to quiver as her muscles fought to stay upright and give into
the mounting pressure at the same time. Just when she thought she could bear
the intensity no longer, the storm broke, like a supernova. A rain of stars
exploded through every cell. For a moment she thought she could taste them as
they danced over her tongue and rushed down to her toes. The rain beat without
pause for a few moments, coursing through her as her heart thundered in her
chest.

 

Her arms wrapped around Xander’s neck and she leaned against him
to keep upright, breathing deep and heavy to catch her breath. He slowly,
tenderly, unzipped her dress and slipped it to the floor. Every brush of satin
against her skin felt suddenly like a light wind blowing through the room. She
closed her eyes and felt the trail of his fingertips on her skin long after
they had slid the dress from one curve to another. Touch had always been
something that had brought hands, fingertips, and the careful dipping of a toe
into water to mind before. Now, every inch of her seemed to be as alive and
sensitive as the pad of one of her fingertips. All her nerves were awake,
bright and eager for Xander’s touch.

 

He easily undid the clasp of her strapless bra with a slow
snapping motion of the fingers of one hand and pulled it from between them. He
cast it aside with a flick of his wrist. Hero reached for his pants to undo
them and strip him down to match her. Before she could, he swept her into his
arms and lay her back on his bed.

 

“I’m not done with you,” he whispered in her ear.

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