At last, though, sated from the waffles, clean and warm, she practically crashed down on her bed, images spinning through her mind. Vampires. Shadows. Darkness. Bats. Amorphous shapes that solidified in the night. Terrible things. Evil creatures….
And Mark.
Mark last night.
She curled into the mattress. Mark was all right. Sean Canady had assured her that he was fine. Safe.
At last she slept.
And later…he came to her.
She thought she was dreaming at first. That she heard his voice because she longed to hear it. That he was touching her, his fingers running through her hair, because she wanted to be touched.
“Lauren.”
She realized that he was really there, at her side. Blue eyes deep as midnight, yet brilliant as the day. The contours of his face as rugged and strong as ever, but the look in his eyes so tender.
Then he was kissing her.
Lips moving on hers, coaxing, powerful. His hands sliding over her, cupping her breasts, traveling down to her hips.
She wasn’t dreaming. He was with her.
Making love to her.
And, oh, God, it was good.
She curled into his arms, returned his kisses with searing wet ardor, broke away, kissed and teased and laved his flesh. Somehow the nightgown she had donned after her shower was gone. Somehow his naked flesh was erotically close to her own. She felt the hardness of his arousal against her, the vitality of him, the pressure of his muscles and movement. The drapes were drawn, only a touch of the sun entering, and it seemed he was bathed in gold. It was as if real fire emanated from her when he touched her, that the elements themselves combined to arouse and seduce her.
She had never known such a lover. He had clearly decided to go slow. She had met his first caress so easily, only to discover she was firmly pressed back again and again, that he wanted to stroke each niche and curve of her, the brush of his fingers followed by the pressure and caress of his lips and tongue. He traced a slow pattern on her flesh, making her ache and writhe as he moved from her throat to her collarbone, breasts, midriff, belly, thighs… until he delved intimately between them, driving her to a point of madness, a point of searing climax…and then took her there again.
His lips were forceful, his entire body thrusting in a way that seemed to penetrate her every pore, even her very mind. She thought she might well die as she arched against him, seeking more and more and more of him, or at the very least that she would go mad. But then the sweet delirium of climax burst upon her again, and his flesh against her flesh, their hearts thundering, pulses racing, breathing coming in gasps of wind….
Then dying down.
She didn’t lie quietly at his side, waiting for the wonder to subside. Instead she sat up, staring at him, frowning, worried. “You’re all right?” she asked anxiously.
“I thought I was much more than that, actually,” he teased.
She almost hit him.
“I’m serious. You escaped him, but you were hurt. How in God’s name…?”
“I’m all right,” he said quietly. “Really.”
She hopped up, comfortable with him, heedless of her nudity, anxious to see him clearly and assure herself that he really was completely well.
She turned on the light and went back to his side, then searched him head to toe, anxiously, with her eyes, with her touch.
“You…you’re not even bruised.”
“I’m tough,” he told her. “Worn, rugged and tough,” he added with a soft laugh.
“I was so worried when you didn’t come back.”
He reached up, his eyes on hers as he touched her cheek. “You were worried? So was I. Trusting Jonas wasn’t easy.”
“He took me straight to the Square.”
He nodded, looking down for a moment. “Sean had told me he was pretty sure the guy was decent.”
“Deanna…liked him,” she murmured.
“Yeah, well, I guess he was there at the right time last night,” he said. “Still…I don’t like it. The thing is, though, I have to find Stephan’s hideout. His lair.”
Lauren frowned. “You’re certain that he has…a lair?” she asked slowly.
“Of course.”
“Well, excuse me if I’m asking silly questions, but…accepting that vampires exist is still new to me. So…does he have a coffin somewhere? Native earth and all that?”
He was looking at the ceiling, his expression serious, and he gave no hint that she was asking something bizarre. “It’s not as complicated as you think. He has native earth somewhere. A place where he can go to rest…to
