Heart of the Raven(25)

Cassie lay there drifting, her eyes shut, her chest heaving until he  pulled her into his arms. But she was still aroused and in desperate  need of arousing him, satisfying him.

"Let's go to bed." She stood, held out her hand, clasped his. They  toweled each other dry, went hand in hand into the bedroom. As they  neared the bed she turned around, walking backward, enjoying the sight  of him. He'd gained a little weight since she'd first met him, weight he  needed. His hair looked even longer wet, yet there was no question that  he was powerful and strong. Tempting.

She couldn't wait to get her hands-and mouth-on him.

She flung the duvet aside. Pushed back the bedding. Feeling like some  kind of enchantress and not at all like herself, she put a hand to his  chest and pushed. He let himself fall onto the bed.

"Be gentle with me," he said, his eyes sparkling.

"No way."

The sparkle became a hard glitter. She knelt beside him, leaned down to  kiss him, let her hand trace a path from his chest to his thighs and  back up again, not touching the hard, thick ridge of him but flying her  hand just barely over, enough to feel his heat, enough for him to feel a  breeze. He jerked up and groaned. She pushed him back down, thrilled  with her own power.

"Cassie."

He said her name as if it were the last time, a question, a plea, a  revelation. She wouldn't give in to it. She would take her time, take  her pleasure, give him his.

"It's my turn," she murmured against his ear. "Don't move."

His hands fisted the sheet. Oh, yeah, power was good. She ran her  fingers all over his body except where it counted most. He opened his  eyes and, well, not glared, exactly, but gave her a look that told her  she was wreaking havoc. She smiled and continued the torture until he  grabbed her hand and flattened it on his erection, lifting up and  groaning. She explored with her hand, testing his endurance, then she  explored with her tongue, testing his control.

His voice lowered an octave as he uttered barely comprehensible words.  She took him in her mouth, stopping all form of communication except  movement. He didn't let her linger, though, but sat up.

"Stop," he whispered harshly.

"I'm not done."

"Yeah. You are."

He flipped her onto her back and plunged into her then stopped, buried  deep, and made a low, guttural sound, his body unyielding. Then he  moved, short, quick thrusts, his pelvis pressing hard into hers, his  breathing ragged, matching hers. She wound her legs around him, pressed  her heels into his thighs. The build to climax wasn't slow or gentle but  fast and hard and staggering. They came together fiercely, wildly,  mindlessly. No thought, just feeling, exquisite, memorable feeling. Then  the inevitable descent that took forever but not long enough.

She curved her arms up his back, combed his damp hair with her fingers.  Tears stung her eyes. Beautiful. He was beautiful. And breathtaking.

And it hurt so much that this would be her last night with him.



They fixed turkey sandwiches and ate them on the back porch while they  watched the sky darken with black clouds, hiding the moon. The air  smelled of impending rain, extremely rare for late September in San  Francisco. Then after they went to bed the rain started to fall around  midnight, no gentle, cleansing shower but a violent, pelting storm that  rattled windows.

Neither of them mentioned watching Letterman. They left the blinds open  and watched the rain and wind hammer the night. Heath had lit a fire in  the bedroom fireplace earlier. Now he burrowed his face in her hair,  caught the scent of his own shampoo and had no desire to be anywhere in  the world but there in his bed, with her.                       
       
           



       

He didn't want to say anything to upset the tenuous peace of the  evening. Neither of them mentioned Danny or the future. It seemed the  best choice for the moment. Daylight would bring reality back with a  vengeance.

But it left them with little to talk about. Exhaustion suddenly  overwhelmed him. He needed to sleep, needed to empty his mind for a  little while.

"Tired?" he asked.

"Very."

"Go to sleep, then."

She snuggled closer. A couple of minutes passed.

"You can turn out the light," she said.

He hesitated. "Are you sure?"

"I want to try."

He reached to turn off the bedside lamp and gathered her close again.  The fire had died down to embers and offered little light. Without  moonlight, the room was very dark.

He kissed her cheek, her temple, her forehead, then rested his cheek against her hair.

"My angel found me," she said, a smile in her voice. "Thank you."

He stayed awake until he knew she was asleep, then he joined her.





Sixteen




Cassie left her luggage by the front door where Heath would see it when  he came downstairs. She'd gotten up early and packed. He'd continued to  sleep. She waited in the living room, and waited and waited.

She knew the second he awoke. There was no noise to indicate it, but she  knew. He didn't get into the shower but came right to the top of the  stairs and stopped. She pictured him looking at her suitcases.

He came down, his tread measured, and walked into the living room. She  stood. He'd pulled on a pair of jeans but that was all. She'd had her  hands on that body, her mouth. She'd awakened him in the middle of the  night by kissing his chest then moving down his body. "Ah, Cassie," he'd  said in a gruff, excited, pleased way. "Where have you been all my  life?"

She'd almost stopped, afraid of hurting him even more when she left in  the morning, but unwilling to give up her last time with him.

Plus she'd slept all night without a light on.

Her fingers shaking now she shoved her hands in her pockets.

"You're leaving?" he asked, his voice neutral.

She nodded. Because I love you. Because you're ready to go out into the  world again, and your life is going to change. And because I would be a  reminder of Danny, of more loss. She knew he needed to do some living.  He wasn't whole. He hadn't grieved, hadn't shared anything about Kyle  with her. That was how she knew for sure that he wasn't ready for her.

It had been an illusion, the happy family. She was afraid, too, because  illusions are so easily shattered. But mostly she wanted him to embrace  life again.

"Why?" he asked after a long moment.

"My job is done." I'm cutting my losses. Surely he could understand that about her.

A total and instant change came over him. His expression turned icy. "I see. So, are you charging me for last night?"

She didn't plan on charging him for anything. Not one cent. She didn't  know how she would work that out with her boss, but she would.

"No," she said. "I'm not."

"So it really was just Danny that kept you here. And some great sex. Been without for a while, have you?"

The bitterness in his words stung. "I don't want to hurt you-"

"That's a laugh."

"It's true. You may not understand it now, but I hope you will  sometime." It was better to make a clean break now. If she lingered, he  might see the truth behind her words. I'm doing this for you, she wanted  to scream at him. For you.

Her stomach churned. She needed to go. Now. This instant. How had she  let herself become so vulnerable? She'd gotten so good at preventing  that.

She walked past him. "Goodbye, Heath." Grabbing her things she opened the door. She wouldn't look back at him. She wouldn't.

But she did. He stared straight ahead so she only saw his profile, saw  how straight he stood, how his jaw flexed. It had been worse than she  expected, leaving him. She'd thought she could have a conversation with  him, but that would've been impossible. She had so much to thank him  for, and yet she couldn't.

Live again, she told him silently. Love again. I will always love you.

She closed the door quietly, made her way to her car without running.  She didn't feel his gaze on her as she had the first day she'd arrived.  He hadn't gone to one of the windows to watch her.

Birds sang as she opened her car door. Sun bathed the house and yard,  was reflected in the big glass windows. There was life here finally.  Hope. A future. Things that had been missing the first day she arrived.                       
       
           



       

She would have to be satisfied with that. It could only get better from here.



Heath stood in the living room, his mind empty, staring at nothing.  After a while he walked to the window. She was gone. Really gone. He'd  been wrong about her.

No, not really, he decided. He'd known that Danny was the reason she'd  come and stayed, but hadn't something else grown? He may not have been  out in the world much lately but he didn't think he was that far off in  his interpretation of action and words. And here he'd given her credit  for honesty. Wrong again, Raven. Wrong again.