The Yearning (22 page)

He came to the bed. “Jasmine.”

Misery shaded her voice. “I don’t know where your things are. Try Ben’s room or my office.”

He didn’t move.

She wanted to yell at him to leave, but could not. How would she get through this day and all the others without him? How could she expect him to stay and forgive her? She didn’t deserve it. What she’d done was horrible, insane. “When you call the police, please tell them I did this on my own. I don’t want them hurting my sisters or Ben. They didn’t mean any harm, they only tried to help.”

“Shhhh.” Hand on her cheek, he turned her face and touched her lips lightly with his.

Their breaths mingled, tempting her lust. She wept, unable to stop her tears. “Why are you kissing me? I can’t help you find your stuff. If it’s not in my office or Ben’s room, then just take some clothing of his and leave, and try to forgive me. Please.”

He worked on the knots to free her right wrist.

Frightened, she jerked her arm, a fruitless attempt to stop him. “Don’t untie me, I could hurt you!”

“There’s no need. I’m not leaving.”

Her heart soared and fell, unable to believe him. “What are you talking about? You unlocked the handcuffs.” All at once, the truth of it hit her. “How did you do that? Where are my sisters?”

“Outside with the Steinmans. Ben hasn’t come back yet with the disposable phone. For the moment, you and I are alone.” He undid the other sash and scooped her in his arms. “Did you sleep at all?”

His shoulder heated the side of her face. His heart’s steady beat reassured her. God, how she loved him, even though he’d never love her. So why was he doing this? Because he wanted to save her as he hadn’t his partner?

“Jasmine, did you sleep?”

His neck muffled her words. “I don’t know. A little, maybe. I kept drifting in and out. It didn’t help. It never does.”

“Let’s fix that.”

“How?”

He carried her down the hall to her room and brought her to the bed.

She sank to the mattress and stared at the cuffs. “Are you going to use those on me? I wouldn’t blame you. You have a right.”

“No, I don’t.” He put the shackles in the nightstand drawer and went to the door in the bath, locking it. He secured the bedroom door next. Returning, he unfolded his body over hers, loosely wrapping his fingers around her wrists, lifting them above her head in a tender attempt to imprison.

Readily, she surrendered her freedom to his strength, warmth and weight, her lids closing as their lips touched.

He gave her a lover’s kiss, more emotion than hunger, as he had last night. The gentle pressure of his mouth, his tongue hugging hers, nourished and consoled, temporarily pacifying the curse. They explored each other slowly, adrift in tastes, sensations, textures, their effortless breathing revealing their delight. Finished, he kept his cheek to hers. Her throat convulsed. She whispered, “Thank you.”

“Shhhh.” His lips skimmed her throat, journeying to her breasts, navel, mound, tarrying on her cleft. Palms beneath her ass, he encouraged her to lift her body to his mouth. He savored this part of her as a man does when he loves a woman. No need to hurry. They had the rest of their lives together.

Jasmine pressed her face to her shoulder, trying not to think of the meager time left with him.

His tongue swept over her clit repeatedly. He slipped two fingers into her slit, slowly erasing the sadness and replacing it with unruly longing, more intense and meaningful than any she’d experienced before or since the curse. Arms above her head, she angled her hips so he could more readily reach her cunt. His fingers, lips and tongue worshipped her. She panted with her first orgasm and moaned on the second as Mike’s cock replaced his fingers.

He pinned her with his body, his gaze, tenderness and desire in his eyes, his thrusts slow, luxuriating in the act.

She gave herself to him in a way she hadn’t earlier. Not to tame the yearning for an instant of relief, but to experience human closeness more powerful than any curse. Second by second, her body climbed toward climax. Reaching it, her soul drifted down. She parted her lids to look at him one last time before falling asleep in his caring embrace.

Mike fingered a strand of hair from Jasmine’s cheek, unwilling to let it or anything else disturb her. He was so nutty in love with this woman, he would willingly offer a year of his life to buy a day’s worth of rest for her, and would have told anyone who asked that it was a fair proposition.

He wouldn’t lose her to this craziness. Desiree promised lust without relief. He’d thrown his adoration into the mix, fucking up her plans, because he saw how his devotion calmed Jasmine, allowing her to relax. Not that he could consider it a permanent solution. There was always the chance the curse would behave like a virus, mutating and growing stronger, resistant to all cures until it destroyed.

His belly cramped, stealing his breath. He held Jasmine closer, letting her weight and heat wash away his pain. Everything would be all right. He’d make certain of it, even if he had to offer his life for hers.

Right now, though, he had to content himself with watching her sleep.

She awoke slowly, her mind taking a few seconds to catch up to her body. How long had she rested? She lifted her face, meeting Mike’s black velvet eyes. They held an affectionate smile and something else. Disappointment? Concern?

He murmured, “How do you feel?”

Jasmine reflected on her sluggishness and the pleasure beneath it, putting it into words. “Still sleepy, but like I want to kiss you too.”

His grin creased the corners of his eyes. She ran her forefinger down the small folds, loving how they added depth to his features. Age would treat him well. Something she’d never see. Sorrow threatened again, constricting her throat, making it difficult to speak. “How long was I out?”

“Fifteen minutes.”

Lost time. “Kiss me.”

He did, with passion and what seemed like love, but wasn’t. Without the yearning driving her, she wasn’t his type of woman. She’d conned him into this and now his honor and integrity would see it through. It was more than she was worthy of. She told herself to be grateful for the moment.

He drew it out far longer than she’d hoped, then pressed his mouth lightly to her lashes and brow. “Try to go back to sleep.” His arms encircled her. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

It sounded so nice. Exactly what she wanted for the coming days, weeks and beyond. A future she couldn’t have. “And then?”

“I don’t know. We’ll figure it out.”

She wasn’t certain if his nonchalance was for her benefit or to convince himself. Her hand went to his chest. “My sisters and Ben are going to be shocked that you got out of the handcuffs. How’d you do that? Oh my God,” she suddenly said, a thought striking her, “Ben has your gun.”

“I have it.” He guided her head back to his shoulder. “Don’t worry. I put it in a safe place. And it doesn’t matter how I got out of the cuffs, when your sisters and Ben come up here I’ll take care of whatever happens. No one’s going to get hurt.”

Thirty minutes passed. Forty. An hour. He listened to Jasmine’s rhythmic breaths and the noises coming from downstairs. Ten minutes ago, the kitchen door had banged into the jamb, announcing Lily and Violet’s return.

Now, the front door shut with a wallop. Ben. Mike closed his eyes, listening to the boy sprint up the stairs, most likely with the disposable cell phone in hand. Right on cue, Ben’s heavy footfalls headed for this room. He turned the knob and stopped.

The delay said he didn’t understand why the door hadn’t opened. He tried again with the same result.

Mike lowered his gaze to Jasmine. Long lashes fanned above her cheeks. His mind begged Ben to go away, not to awaken her.

The younger man tried the knob repeatedly, refusing to believe. Cursing, he ran down the hall and into another room. Mike’s gaze darted to the door in the bath. The knob turned, useless against the lock. Ben punched the wood. His footfalls returned to the hall, tearing down it to Lily’s room. By the next sounds, he’d pushed open her door, realizing Jasmine was no longer inside.

He ran to the stairway, shouting her sisters’ names. Given the loud thudding, he took the steps three at a time.

Mike eased Jasmine to the mattress, scooting a pillow beneath her head. She mumbled indistinctly and continued to sleep. He left the bed as quietly as possible. His jeans were on and his fly zipped as three sets of footfalls dashed this way.

Ben yelled, “Give me the key!” He punched the door, the wall.

From behind, Jasmine murmured, “What was that? What’s going on?”

Mike put his hand out to keep her from leaving the bed. “Everything’s all right. Go back to sleep.”

The key rattled in the lock. Ben punched the wood again.

She cried, “No, it’s not. What’s going on?”

The lock clicked, the knob turned, the door flung open. Mike’s power stopped it from banging into the wall. Ben and the sisters didn’t note it or the buzz. They stood in a tight knot gaping at him.

Lily shouted, “How’d you get free?”

Violet cried, “Where’s Jas?”

“Here,” she said. Sheets rustled, the bedsprings creaked. “I’m okay.”

Ben stepped inside and bellowed, “You let him go?”

Mike placed himself between the boy and her. “I did it myself.”

Lily growled, “How?”

Time for the truth, not to mention getting their attention and cooperation by putting the fear of Mike into them. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and used his will to push Ben back. The younger man’s mouth opened with his staggering gait, his arms flailed, the door whisked closed and locked. Stunned silence filled the hall. In here, Jasmine stared at him as though he were more dangerous than Desiree.

He couldn’t blame her and spoke without preamble. “I’m telekinetic. I can move objects and people with my mind. It’s what got my partner Tommy killed. I diverted the bullet meant for me and it hit him instead.”

She clutched the sheet to her throat.

If she’d called him a coward, it couldn’t have hurt more. Freak, her expression cried, monster. Shame for what he was and could never change heated his cheeks, quieting his voice. “Jasmine, I swear, I won’t hurt you, your sisters, or Ben.”

She shook her head.

“I won’t,” he insisted, pulling his hands from his pockets only to press them at his sides at the look on her face. “I would never do anything to—”

She interrupted. “I don’t understand. Why did you wait until now to use your power or whatever you call it?”

He advanced a step, then retreated, not wanting to frighten her. “Before Tommy, I called it a gift I didn’t want. Since his death, I hadn’t used it. Between guilt over what happened with him and inactivity, I had a shitting hard time bringing it back, practicing every time I was alone in here. Do you want me to let them in?”

All three hammered on the door, cursing and shouting.

Her face turned to the ruckus. “You haven’t called the police?”

“I told you I wouldn’t do that and I won’t. I only contacted my friend Erica. She’s pulling up everything she can on Desiree and Connor. I give you my word, we’ll find her. This will be over.”

Her hand went to her temple. He wanted to argue, to convince, to make her want him again, to see him as a man not an aberration. Given the shock on her face, he knew it wasn’t possible. His head lowered.

“Let them in, please,” she said.

Mike willed the door to open. Not expecting it, Lily stumbled inside, fist upraised. Ben grabbed the back of her tee, righting her. Violet scurried past them. They spoke as one, their voices drowning out each other.

Jasmine shouted, “Shut up and listen to me!” She continued in a loud voice. “Mike hasn’t contacted the police. He called his friend. She’s looking for Desiree and Connor.”

Violet and Lily exchanged a glance. Ben glared at him. “You sent me to get that stupid phone and you already had yours?”

“Calm down.” Mike shoved his hands back into his pockets. “I didn’t get it until you left. And you sent yourself. I told you to let me use my cell.”

Lily circled Mike warily. “How’d you push Ben back and close the door? I didn’t see you touch him or it.”

Jasmine answered. “He’s telekinetic. He can move things and people with his mind. Because of something that happened in the Marshals Service, he wasn’t able to use his power until now.”

Violet’s eyes bulged. Ben looked partly appalled, partly impressed. Lily produced an unbelieving frown. “Telekinetic? Are you serious? You’re saying he’s like that girl in the movie
Carrie
?”

Mike arched one brow. “Not exactly. She had a much harder time in high school than I did.”

Violet laughed. It sounded hysterical.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Jasmine said. “We hurt Mike, not the other way around. He’s doing everything he can to help me. Please, just leave, I want to be alone with him.”

Mike stared at her, not certain how to take what she’d said. The others didn’t move.

She cried, “Get to work! We have contracts to meet! Leave Mike and me alone!”

To hurry them along, he offered what everyone wanted to hear. “Before you unlocked the door, Jasmine had slept for an hour. She needs to get far more rest. I promise to take good care of her.”

Ben crossed his arms over his chest, his youthful bravado back. “I’m staying to make certain he does.”

Mike shook his head. “No, you’re not.”

The boy looked at Jasmine.

She spoke quietly. “Go to work, Ben.”

His face turned a deeper red with her dismissal, her siding with Mike over him. He turned and left the room. Still frowning, Lily argued, “I don’t think we should leave him alone with you, Jas. We don’t know what he’s capable of doing.”

“If you don’t leave now,” she answered, “I’ll have him remove you.”

Lily gaped at her, swore beneath her breath and left the room in a huff.

Violet backed up, bumping into the jamb. Her head swung from it to them. “Let me know when you two want breakfast or lunch or dinner. Whatever’s good.” She shut the door.

Mike returned to the bed, though he didn’t dare get on the mattress. He had neither the courage nor the right. “You don’t have to say you’re okay with this if you’re not.” He lifted his shoulders, feeling like an adolescent waiting for the prom queen to reject him during a full school assembly. “You told them there wasn’t anything to be afraid of, and believe me, there’s not. Still, it would be hard for anyone to come to terms with what I am. Odd. Weird.” He sighed deeply. “Give me a minute and I’ll think of a more descriptive word.”