Read Touched by Darkness Online
Authors: Catherine Spangler
pulsing against her.
Her own body's response was immediate, her
breasts swelling, wet heat flooding her lower
extremities. Damien knew—his senses were too
keen to miss her reactions. Still kissing her, he let
his fingers tease against her crotch for a brief
moment, then swept his hand up to cup her breast.
She reciprocated by cupping him back, only much
lower, and it was like throwing gasoline on a fire.
Need and heat exploded between them, and things
got a little crazy.
She jerked his shirt open; he unbuttoned her jacket
and unsnapped her bra. They couldn't get enough of
each other, kissing and touching, the fire now a
roaring inferno. She got his belt unbuckled and his
pants unzipped. He groaned as she freed him and
wrapped her hand around his hard length.
Wildness flared through her, along with an intense
craving for physical and emotional intimacy. She
slipped down to kneel before the chair. Damien had
given her back her humanity, and she wanted to
revel in it. She wanted to take him to the depths of
an intimacy he'd been avoiding. To let him know
what she had just learned herself.
That it was good to feel again.
#
As Kara knelt between his splayed legs, Damien
knew what she was going to do. He was too far
gone to resist, could only watch as she looked at
him with those luminous gray eyes, as she lowered
her head and took him into her mouth.
Then sensation decimated all rational thought—not
that there had been much during the past moments
of sensual frenzy. Moist warm heat stroked him, as
silky auburn hair tantalized the inside of his thighs.
All he could do was lay his head back and take the
exquisite torment.
Until it was almost too much, and he was on the
edge of exploding. He wanted Kara along for the
ride, so he stopped her, pulling her up with him as
he stood. She tried to protest, but he swung her into
his arms and carried her to the bedroom, then
stripped off the rest of their clothing. Bits of mental
clarity returned, but he ignored the clamoring
warnings.
He shouldn't be indulging in this, couldn't be what
Kara deserved and needed. Yet he'd been alone and
isolated for so long, he couldn't step back from this.
It was like letting the wind loose and then trying to
corral it, or attempting to stop a tidal wave. He
knew on some level that giving in to his feelings
would damn him, but he was determined to taste
paradise before he burned in Hades.
He needed this too desperately to take his time with
Kara. Placing her on the bed, he feasted on her like
a starving man, his mouth flowing over satiny skin.
She didn't seem to mind, arching against him,
trying to touch him in return. There was no talk,
just her sweet moans, and the pounding of his
heart.
Her breasts were as sensitive as he remembered,
only this time he got to taste them, to swirl his
tongue over turgid nipples, and hear her breath
catch. With hands and mouth, he got to map the
curve of her body, the texture of her skin, as he
moved down her.
He discovered she had a tiny gold ring in her navel
—which was sexy as hell—and that she was a true
redhead. Her natural feminine scent beckoned, and
he lowered his head to kiss her intimately. He
focused on giving her pleasure, vaguely aware of
her fingers tangled in his hair, of the breathy sounds
she made. He hurled her over the edge, savoring
the way she cried out his name. He slid back up, his
own need now taking center stage.
"Damien," she whispered. She pulled his head
down and kissed him fervently. Settling between
her legs, he took her wrists and pressed them
against the pillow, and began sliding inside her.
"No." She wiggled free and pushed against his
shoulders. "Lady's choice, Morgan."
With a groan, he allowed her to shove him onto his
back and straddle him. "Kara, you're going to—" he
groaned again as she lowered herself over him,
sheathing him to the hilt, "—kill me."
She smiled wickedly, began to move, way too
slowly. "Oh, I think you'll survive."
She was right, although at one point, he felt certain
he'd died and been shot like a rocket into the
heavens. But then, as he gradually returned to terra
firma, he knew he'd survived very nicely.
#
Sara Thornton checked her appearance in the
corroded wall mirror in the small space that served
as a foyer. She wasn't sure tonight was a good idea,
but she hadn't had much of a life since David— She
blocked the thought before it could complete itself.
Had it only been eight weeks? Sometimes it
seemed like it had happened an eternity ago, while
at others, it felt like only yesterday that he'd gone
off to fish in the Blanco River, and never returned.
She pushed the thoughts away. She needed to get
out—had to get out, before the four walls of the
tiny house closed in on her. She couldn't believe her
babysitter hadn't cancelled, after Wednesday
night... Zorro had seen more unusual happenings in
the past two months than it had all of Sara's adult
life.
A knock came on the front door, and she thought it
might have been nice if David had gotten around to
putting in the peephole he'd been promising for
years. But who would have known there was a
murderer living in Zorro? She cracked the door to
find Luz standing on the narrow cement steps.
Opened the door to let her in.
"Thank you for coming. I thought maybe with what
happened with Matt and all, you'd—"
"I need to stay busy," Luz interjected. "I need to
just keep going, as if...." She shook her head.
"I know." Sara closed the door. "I was sorry to hear
about Matt."
Luz glanced around, her face unusually pale and
devoid of emotion. "Where are the children?"
"Michael's in his room, and Julie is at the Millers,
two houses north of here. She's supposed to be
home by eight. There's leftover macaroni and
cheese in the fridge, peanut butter and jelly on the
counter." Sara hesitated. "You sure you want to do
this?"
Luz's expression became determined.
"Sí.
I
want
to
do this."
Sara felt a rush of relief. "Okay. . good. Well, then,
I'll get going."
"Where will you be?"
"Beth Gonzales and Mary Roberts and me are
going down to Gruene for dinner."
"To the Gristmill and maybe the Dance Hall?" Luz
asked discerningly.
The lure of a drink called to Sara; she could almost
taste the whisky going down. But she didn't like the
knowing smirk on Luz's face. "Maybe. But I
deserve a good time. I've been workin' my fingers
to the bone, taking care of these kids and trying to
hold things together ever since David went off and
drowned."
"Of course you do. Go on, and don not worry about
los niños.
They will be fine."
Sara did, grabbing her purse and coat, and feeling a
heady rush of freedom as she left her
responsibilities behind her.
#
Oh... God...
Kara dug her fingers into Damien's
slick shoulders. Her back was pressed against the
wet shower tiles, her legs wrapped around his
waist, with him deep inside her. She needed just a
little more... just a little harder.
He gave it to her, stroking in a powerful rhythm as
the water pounded around them. Her spine felt
fused to the tiles, but she didn't care. She came
apart, detonating like an atom bomb. Wrapping her
arms around his neck, she held on for dear life as
she dissolved into fine particles that felt like they
were flying at light speed into outer space.
Much later, she stumbled into her bedroom, her
towel flapping around her, and collapsed on the
bed. She'd forgotten about the phenomenal Sentinel
endurance, and that it was enhanced by water, but it
was coming back to her now. She lay there and
drifted for a few moments, listening to the faint
sounds of Damien moving around the bathroom
across the hall, then the blow-dryer going on.
Their relationship didn't appear altered by non-
conduction sex, maybe because they simply weren't
talking about it. Last night, she'd felt Damien draw
away from her as soon as they left the bedroom.
Although they'd slept together later, she'd been the
one to curl against him.
She'd also been the one to instigate lovemaking this
morning, but he hadn't refused; he'd even taken the
lead once things heated up, giving her two
shattering orgasms before he found his own release.
Once they got out of bed, however, it had been all
business.
They'd visited the three known murder scenes—
those of David, Doris, and Matt—and this
afternoon, attempted another conduction. Despite
the powerful sexual crescendo, they hadn't been
able to garner any more information on the Belian.
After dinner tonight, when Damien went to shower,
she had joined him. One thing led to another, and
the shower ended with a very satisfactory outcome.
She knew her actions were wanton, but she also
knew her moments with him were fleeting.
The three times they'd been in the throes of non-
conduction sex, he had been a passionate,
intoxicating lover. But after each time, he withdrew
emotionally.
Kara got up, retrieved her robe from the bathroom,
and put it on. Then she sat on the bed and toweled
her wet hair. Despite the myriad concerns nagging
at her, she couldn't stop thinking about Damien.
That's when the realization hit her, with the impact
of a physical blow.
She was falling in love with him.
Stunned, she dropped the towel. What was the
matter with her? Why couldn't she go for the
normal
men? Because... maybe she wasn't
supposed to. She'd been born to be a natural
conductor for certain Sentinels; her son was a
Sentinel. If there really was a divine plan, as
Damien insisted, then maybe this was part of that
plan.
She drew her knees up and rested her chin on them.
Damn.
She had no idea if Damien returned that
love, but if he did, she might never know it. Oh,
she knew he cared. She knew it on a primal level,
as evidenced by his protective attitude, how he
looked at her when he didn't think she was aware of
it. And by the way he touched her during
lovemaking, with the same reverence Richard had
shown her.
Damien might never admit to his feelings, even to
himself; he would probably never be willing to
commit to a relationship. Maybe she should feel
hurt, but this wasn't a high school crush, and she
fully understood. She knew Sentinels had to be
careful that their conductors didn't fall in love with
them. They carried tremendous responsibilities, and
faced very dangerous—and often fatal—situations.
All too often, they lost loved ones, as Damien had.
She didn't know if he could ever get beyond the
emotional baggage from his past.
She would have to live with that. Life would go on,
and so would she. One day at a time, just as she had
done after Richard died. She had Alex to think
about, and taking care of him was a full-time job—
in addition to her medical career.
Yet the irony of the situation wasn't lost on her.
She was finally ready to love again—with a man
who might not be capable of returning that love.
#
It was late Saturday night. His grandparents had
gone to bed, and Alex was in his room, looking at
the day's treasures. They'd gone to the Tennessee
Aquarium in Chattanooga, which had been totally
iced, and he'd gotten some great souvenirs. He
really liked the "Shark Dudes" T-shirt and the
ceramic otter mug (he planned to drink hot
chocolate in it tomorrow) that Grandpa had bought
him. With his own money, he'd gotten a cool plush
Day-Glo stingray for his mom.
Still too hyped to sleep, he put the items on the
dresser, got into his pajamas, and turned on the TV.