“Sshhh. I’m okay, and I’m here,” she whispered, hugging him just as fiercely. “Love me, Ben, and see if you can make my dishes rattle again.”
He lifted his head and returned her smile. “Oh, I intend to. I may even crack a few of them,” he finished, cupping her left breast.
Emma sucked in a surprised breath as he moved his thumb across her nipple, and she arched her back in eager acceptance. She used her own hands to explore his chest, which was wide and hard and hot, and dug her fingers into his shoulders when he took her nipple into his mouth.
She moaned, kissing his hair and running her fingers through it. She felt his hands at her waist, pulling her panties down, along with what was left of her nightgown. Within seconds she was as naked as he was.
“You’ve got the body of an angel,” he whispered as he moved back over her, bringing her into intimate contact with the proof of his desire. “You’re myangel.”
Impatient, she wrapped her legs around his hips and placed the heart of her womanhood at the tip of his shaft.
“Wait,” he gritted, trembling with restraint.
Ignoring him, Emma lifted her hips, sheathing herself over his manhood as she exerted pressure with her legs on the back of his. He finished the task with a groan, burying himself deep within her.
She squeaked at the discomfort of the invasion, bracing her hands on his shoulders as if to hold back a mountain. He instantly stilled.
“You’re damn tight, Emma.”
“You’re damn big, Ben.”
He smiled at her as he slowly started to move, causing a sensation so exquisite Emma was afraid she might have left nail marks in his chest.
Not that he seemed to notice. His head was thrown back and his eyes were closed, and she could see he was caught in a maelstrom of pleasure. Tentatively she began to move her own hips.
“Be still,” he gritted through clenched teeth, looking down with eyes darkened with desperation. “Or this is going to be over before it begins.”
She reached up and wiped the sweat on his forehead. “And I thought you were a powerful god,” she said, lightly tugging his hair. “You’re merely mortal after all.”
He shut her up by capturing her mouth with his, and began moving more earnestly as he reached down and found the very center of her nature.
Emma ignited like a volcano, molten white heat consuming her as she cried out in convulsing pleasure. The moon and all the stars flooded the darkness that had surrounded her heart all these years. She became one with the man of her dreams as she felt him shudder deep inside her, his own cry softly echoing through the room.
She tried to calm her racing heart as she held Ben close. Small convulsions continued to rack her body, pleasant little ripples of waning ecstasy. Breathing, which she desperately needed to do right now, was nearly impossible.
She shifted in an attempt to wiggle free.
“Are you hurt, Emma? Did I injure your shoulder?” he asked, concern rousting him as nothing else could.
She smiled up at him, and pulled him down to her side as she continued to cuddle him close. “No. I just needed some air.”
He returned her smile with a cocky one. “I take your breath away?” He brushed the hair back from her face. “Not bad for a mere mortal.”
As if his teasing had awoken the gods of the underworld, the soft rumble of trembling earth approached, growing more ominous in volume until even the bed began to shake. The windows rattled in their sashes. The lamp on her nightstand clinked with growing violence.
Beaker whined.
Emma gasped. “Dammit, Benjamin. Cut that out!” she hissed.
He jumped out of bed and nearly fell. “Me? It’s your damn hot springs!”
She sat up, hugging the blankets to her chest as she looked at him.
“This is getting eerie.” He caught her staring, and grabbed a pillow and held it at his waist, covering up all the best parts. “What’s happening in your woods?”
Emma sighed. “You’re not superstitious, are you?”
The bed dipped and she found herself flat on her back, Ben looming over her again. “It’s not funny.” He kissed her to stop her laughter. When he was finished with that chore, he kissed her again. Emma guessed the second time was just to prove he could without the windows rattling again.
“I have to go,” he whispered into her mouth.
“Why?”
“It’s nearly dawn. And when Mike catches us in bed, I want us to be married.”
Emma sighed again. “Yeah.”
“So when will that be, Em?”
“Well … when do you want to get married?”
“Tomorrow.”
She burst out laughing again. “How about next spring?”
“How about later this week?”
“A Christmas wedding, then.”
“Thanksgiving.”
“But that’s only two weeks away!”
“Two damn long weeks, if you ask me. What’s the problem, Emma?”
“I want a nice wedding. It’s the only one I’m going to have.”
Ben heaved a mighty sigh. “You can have as nice a wedding as you can put together in two weeks. That’s as long as I’m waiting.”
“Or?”
He smiled but he didn’t look amused. “Or I will shanghai you on one of my cargo ships and have the captain marry us at sea.”
“That’s … you can’t … oh, okay. Thanksgiving, then,” she conceded, sealing her bargain with a quick kiss. “In my church. With Greta as my maid of honor.”
“I don’t care if Pitiful stands up with you as long as it’s legal.” Ben stood up and began hunting for his clothes.
Emma unabashedly watched, her knees tucked under her chin, admiring the play of muscles that made his movements efficient and graceful.
“Thank you for the roses. I’ve never received flowers before,” she said as she picked up several petals and held them to her nose.
“You’re welcome.” He kissed her and walked out of the room.
As soon as the door closed, she scooped up a handful of petals and inhaled their scent with gusto. She fell back on the pillow, letting the petals cascade over her face as she closed her eyes and inhaled again.
Damn if they didn’t smell like moss!
Though he considered himself firmly grounded in reality, there were times Ben could actually sensesomething lurking, preparing to pounce. It was never anything tangible or even definable, just a feeling of impending disaster.
He believed in the mysteries of this world, and he also believed there were things beyond human understanding better not dwelled on. But mostly Ben believed his gut when it was telling him something was wrong. And for the last week, it had been telling him something was very wrong in Medicine Gore.
There was evil walking these woods, threatening Emma and Mike and the new life Ben had found with them. They thought Poulin’s coordinates were a drug-drop site, but he felt they were part of something much more ugly. He’d first noticed it two days ago when he’d checked them out himself, and he felt it now, as he stood at the spot they marked.
“A dog would help,” Atwood said from ten feet away, scuffing at the ground with his foot, disturbing years of rotting leaves. “One of those dogs used to search for bodies after disasters.”
Ben turned to the quiet, intelligent detective. “It’s been ten years.”
Atwood shrugged as he continued to walk in circles, scanning the forest floor. “Dogs have remarkable noses.”
“When we get back, call one in. But keep it quiet. I don’t want Emma or Mike to know what we’re doing until we’ve found something concrete.”
“I’ll put Sklyer on it.”
Ben fought the chill that suddenly ran down his spine, hunkering deeper into his parka as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Why don’t you head into town and try to find out where Poulin has disappeared to,” he suggested. “If it looks like he’s really out of town, you may get your chance to check out his room.”