Wild Rain (20 page)

She always did the unexpected. Rachael laughed softly. “And you must have forgotten who you’re talking to, Rio. The woman with the million-dollar price on her head. Has it occurred to you, I’m a pariah in society?”

“I know exactly whom I’m talking to,” he said.

Rachael stretched her leg out in front of her, careful not to jar it. She had to use both hands, even the broken one, in order to ease her leg fully off the bed. Blood rushed, causing pins and needles to add to the throbbing pain. That immediately drew his attention. Rio half turned, a small frown on his face. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Just stretching. I thought you could make me one of those drinks. I’m getting addicted to them. What do you put in them, anyway? Just for future reference, you understand.” She straightened her shirt, pulled at the tails to try to cover her bare thighs. The edges were gaping open over her breasts and she awkwardly tried to button it with one hand.

Rio dragged on a pair of jeans before crossing over to the bed. “The drink is made from fruit nectar and whatever fruit I happen to harvest that morning.” He hunkered down beside her and reached for the edges of the shirt—his shirt. It looked completely different on her. His knuckles brushed her full breasts. He could feel warmth and velvet-soft flesh. His knuckles lingered, deliberately rubbed gently. He hadn’t planned to take advantage, it just happened. He couldn’t resist the temptation. He looked up at her face, his fingers curled around the edges of his shirt.

Rachael was instantly trapped in the vivid intensity of his gaze. She fell, tumbled, dropped into his gaze, leaned into him in invitation. His mouth took possession of hers, a fusing together, wild and tumultuous, neither quite in control. His fingers moved between her breasts, sliding the button aside to allow his hands to cup the soft weight. She gasped, arched into his palm, pushed closer, her body every bit as sensitive as in her catlike dream. She needed his touch, ached for it, dreamed of it. Was familiar with it. His mouth was pure male, driving every thought from her head so that she simply wound her arms around his neck and held him to her.

His lips blazed a trail of fire from her mouth to her chin. His teeth nibbled, moved lower to her throat, his tongue swirling along her skin just to taste her. Rachael cried out when his mouth settled over her breast, when his fingers tangled in her hair, when he spread a blazing fire through her body.

“Why did you have to put your jeans on this one time?” Rachael complained, her voice breathless. “Just this once, wouldn’t it be all right to forget everything and just be together?” The ache and the need were raw. She heard it and knew he did too.

“Damn it, Rachael.” His tongue swirled over her taut nipple. He rested his forehead against her sternum, his breath warm on her breasts. “Did you have to make me think? If I take advantage of you while you’re injured and you can’t walk away, how are you going to feel tomorrow when you have to hear everything I have to say?”

His hands cupped her breasts, thumbs stroking, his mouth hot and moist and filled with passion as he suckled, just one more time. His body was so full and painful he moaned, an involuntary protest against the tight material covering his erection.

Rachael tugged at his zipper, thankful he wasn’t wearing his button-fly jeans. “Take them off, Rio.”

He reluctantly left the haven of her breasts to stand so he could drag off the jeans and kick them aside. He was standing between her legs, and Rachael simply leaned into him, her hands cupping his testicles and her mouth sliding over his erection. Hot silk surrounded him, gripped him, her tongue dancing and teasing. The rush hit him like a fireball, nearly blew out the top of his head. She was doing something with her fingertips, stroking and caressing until he thought he’d go out of his mind. He heard a sound escaping his throat, something between a growl and a groan, but he couldn’t stop it.

“Rachael, sestrilla, you’re killing me.” He didn’t want her to stop, but if she didn’t he was going to disgrace himself. There would be no chance to satisfy her. He put his hands on her shoulders to press her back. “If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right.” Even as he said it, even as he meant it, her tongue was doing a dancing foray over the head of his penis, teasing and driving him out of his skull. The breath slammed out of his lungs and he fisted his hands in her hair, his hips thrusting helplessly.

That was Rachael. Teasing and laughing, her breath hot with passion as she drove him out of his mind. She loved their sex life, was every bit as adventurous as he. Just looking at her could make him crazy and when she was like this... Rio groaned again and shook his head to clear it of memories. He wanted this to be here and now. This Rachael, this Rio—not the ones from another time and place.

He tugged at her hair and she lifted her head, her dark chocolate eyes laughing joyfully. His heart performed a series of somersaults. He pushed her back on the bed, lifted her leg carefully, dragging blankets, shuts and everything else he could find to prop it up for her. The shirt fell open to allow him to see her luscious body. Her skin was a miracle, soft and inviting.

“You’re sure, Rachael. Be sure, sestrilla, there is no going back once we do this.” His heated gaze drifted possessively over her body, drinking her in, even when he wanted her to be certain of what she was doing. Whatever past life they had together was urging a passionate and heated union. “I want this to be us. You and me and no one else. Not past or future, but the two of us in the present.”

She reached her arms up for him, locked her hands behind his neck as he carefully lowered himself into the cradle of her hips. Her body was as welcoming as the look on her face. As the wonder and joy in her eyes. Rio buried his face in the warmth of her throat, closing his eyes to absorb the feel and texture of her skin. Of her heat.

“I know what sestrilla means, Rio. You are calling me beloved one. I have no idea of the language. But I know the word.” She held his head to her, feeling the trembling in his body. He was enormously strong, with roped muscles, yet he trembled in her arms. It amazed and humbled her. She swept her hands over his back, careful to keep the makeshift splint from rubbing against his skin. She knew the exact line of his back, but the scars were unfamiliar. She traced each one, committing them to memory.

His full erection was heavy and thick, pressing against her moist entrance, but he simply lay in her arms, holding her to him while she explored his body. She felt his mouth move against her throat and her heart began to pound in anticipation. She couldn’t stop moving as flames licked at her body in the wake of his tongue. He worshipped her, taking his time when they both were already on the edge of insanity. His hands and mouth touching and tasting until she had tears in her eyes and lifted her hips in urgent need. He was incredibly gentle, tender even, so careful of her injured leg, yet there wasn’t a spot he missed on her body, leisurely feasting on her as if they had all the time in the world. His breath was warm on her stomach as he gave a series of little nips down to the tangle of dark curls. “Rio, it’s too much.”

“It’s never too much.” He breathed the words against her, his finger pushing deep into her so that her muscles clenched around him and she cried out with pleasure: “This is the two of us, Rachael. The way we’re meant to be.” He bent his head and replaced his finger with his tongue.

She clutched the sheets for an anchor. Her body exploded, rippling with life, with pleasure, nearly sending her off the bed. Then his mouth was fastened to hers and he was lifting her hips, surging into her. He was thick and full and thrust through her orgasm, sending shock waves of fire through her body.

“More, Rachael, take me deeper, take all of me.” His voice was hoarse and he tilted her hips as he thrust deeper, wanting to bury himself inside her body, inside her sanctuary. He wanted to share her skin, her heart, her very soul. “That’s right, sestrilla, more, take all of me.” He could have wept tears of joy. Everything in him remembered, knew he had come home. He felt her shift, just that tiny bit, felt her take him deeper into her tight sheath. Her muscles gripped and clung and performed an amazing tango of heat and fire on his body. He found a perfect rhythm, surging deep, thrusting hard, immersing, losing himself in a paradise he thought lost to him.

He knew instinctively, or maybe it was a past life together, exactly how to please her. He knew what she wanted, what made her gasp and moan and cling to him. He wanted their first time together to be a memory for both of them. He forced his body under a semblance of control to give her complete satisfaction, driving her up and over the edge again and again until she cried out for mercy. He wanted to give her the perfect joy she gave to him.

Rachael dug her fingernails into Rio’s back, desperate to hold on, to take him with her when she was flying so high. Lights burst behind her eyes. Her body shuddered with pleasure. She felt him swelling even more, growing larger, harder, exploding with life and joy, his growl of sheer pleasure mingling with her own cry.

They lay in the heat of the night, their scents mingling, their hearts racing. Rachael traced one long scar just over his left shoulder with her fingertip while wave after wave rocked her. “How did you get this one?”

He couldn’t move, sweat beading his body. He settled into her, shifting slightly to take some of his weight off of her. “That one was a knife. I was pulling a sixteen-year-old boy out of Tomas’s camp and the kid panicked and ran from me before I could stop him. A guard nabbed him and swung a machete at him.” He nestled his face closer to the warmth of her breast. “That’s where this scar came from.” He showed her his arm and the deep scar running along his forearm. “I was able to save the kid, but a second guard knifed me from behind during the fight. That wasn’t my most shining moment.”

Rachael lifted her head enough to press her mouth to his forearm, her tongue swirling over the long scar. He tasted as if they’d just made love. “And this one?” She reached lower, deliberately sliding her fingertips over his firm buttocks to rest in the small white concave over his left hip. “How did you get this one?”

“A bullet.” He grinned, his breath teasing her nipple into a hard peak. “Obviously I was running.”

“Well at least you were showing good sense.”

“There were more of them then there was of me. I walked into a hornet’s nest that time. I was only scouting, looking for signs, and walked right into them. It seemed the right thing to do was to leave since I didn’t have an invitation.” He leaned into her breast and suckled, just for a moment because she wasn’t opposed to the idea. His laughter was muffled. “I’ve improved my running times since then.”

Just the pull of his mouth on her sensitized breast sent her body into another orgasm. He was still locked deep inside her and velvet-soft muscles gripped and clenched tightly, adding to his own pleasure.

Her fingertips avoided the raw wound on his hip and went to the myriad of deep slashes on his back. “And these?”

Rio went absolutely still. Even his breath caught in his lungs. He waited a heartbeat, listened to the air moving in and out of her lungs. Slowly he lifted his head to look down at her. “Those scars came from a few fights I had with a big cat.”

Her dark eyes moved over his face. He could see her taking it in, accepting it. “A cat like the other night. A big leopard. Not Fritz or Franz.”

“Not Fritz or Franz,” he confirmed. Very gently he separated from her, easing his body from hers, rolling over to take his weight completely from her. He lay staring up at the ceiling. “A very large, fully grown male leopard.”

Rachael could feel the stillness in him. The waiting. There was something he needed to tell her, but he was extremely reluctant. She reached for his hand, laced their fingers together. “Have you ever noticed how much easier it is to say things you need to say, but don’t want to say, in the dark?” Her fingers tightened around his. “You know you’re going to tell me, so just say it.” She waited, her heart accelerating. She had a flashback of his face changing, of fur and teeth and eerie glowing eyes. The longer she lay in the dark waiting, the more she was afraid.

“I murdered a man.” Rio said it softly, his voice so low it was barely audible. She heard pain, stark and raw in the ugly confession.

For a moment she couldn’t breathe. It was the last thing she expected him to say. The last thing she expected of a man like Rio. It didn’t fit with the man who cared for his leopards first. It didn’t fit with the way he always put her first.

“Rio, defending yourself or having to defend others by taking them back from a man like Tomas is not murder.”

“It wasn’t self-defense. He didn’t have a chance against my skills. I hunted him down and I executed him. It was not government sanctioned and the laws of my people didn’t sanction such an act. I wish I could tell you I was sorry he’s dead, but I’m not.” He turned his head to look at her. “Maybe that’s why I can’t forgive myself. And it’s why I live apart from the others of my kind.”

A weight seemed to be crushing her chest. “Were you arrested and charged?”

“I presented myself before the council of elders for judgment, yes. We have our own laws and courts. I was charged with murder. I didn’t deny it. How could I?”

Rachael closed her eyes, tried to block out his words. Murder. Murder. Hunted him down and executed him. The words echoed through her mind. Flashed at her like a neon sign. “But it doesn’t make sense,” she murmured aloud. “Murder doesn’t fit with your personality. It doesn’t, Rio.”

“No?” There was amusement in his voice, a twisted, humorless, sarcastic mocking that made her flinch. “You’d be surprised at what I’m capable of doing, Rachael.”

“Did you go to jail?”

“In a way. I was banished. I am not allowed to live among my people. I do not have the benefit of the elders’ wisdom. I am alone, yet not alone. I am close to them, yet always apart. My people cannot survive in jail. There is only death or banishment for a crime as grave as mine. I was banished. My people do not see me, or acknowledge my existence. Well, other than the unit I run with.”