The Top Gun's Return

opened the door she felt Tristan's body recoil and heard a sharp hiss of breath. Too late, she saw that the driver looked distinctly Middle Eastern.

'Tris, honey, it's okay,' she whispered, her arm tight around his waist, a smile for the driver's benefit fixed firmly on her lips. 'It's okay.' Still smiling, she bent down to peer into the cab. 'Uh…do you by any chance speak English?'

Confronted only with a blank stare, she hopefully added the name of their hotel and was rewarded with a brisk, 'Yes, yes-come, come!' as the driver flipped on his meter.

Light-headed with relief, Jessie half shoved Tristan into the back seat of the cab, then climbed in after him. As she settled breathless and quivery beside him, he gave a sigh and leaned his head against the back of the seat, muttering something she couldn't quite hear…except for one word: 'bastards.'

She threw the driver a worried glance as she leaned closer to Tristan and whispered, 'What'd you say?'

His head moved wearily from side to side. 'Couldn't…let 'em break me. Couldn't…don't you see?' He opened his eyes suddenly and turned to her, glaring like a wounded eagle. 'I had something to prove. Understand? Somethin' to prove…'

Throat knotting and tears welling behind her eyes, Jessie could only nod. After a moment he leaned back with a sigh and closed his eyes.

'Bastards…never broke me,' he mumbled, laughing softly, his body shaking with it. 'Never…broke me. Guess I showed them, huh? Guess…I showed them.'

She fumbled for his hand and found it, bony and strange in the darkness. 'You sure did, sweetheart,' she whispered. She closed her eyes, and tears oozed between her lashes. 'You sure did show 'em.'

Chapter 8

Tristan slept in a shadowless room without doors or windows. He could hear no sounds, not even his own heartbeat, his own breathing. He was neither cold nor warm, he felt nothing, not even the press of his body against a bed or a floor…not even the brush of clothing against his skin.

Asleep, he thought…I wonder if this is death?

But even as the thought formed, he awoke to find himself in a lovely golden place, a safe place, and his body bathed in warmth. Jessie was coming toward him, her stride long and sexy, her smile like the sun. Her smile and heat wrapped around him like a lovely summer day as she slipped into his arms, smelling of grass and flowers, warm sand and sex. Her lips hovered, breathlessly brushing his as she whispered love words into his mouth. He plunged his fingers into her hair and it poured over his hands like the finest silk…floss spun for gods and goddesses from spiderwebs and sunbeams…

'I've been so empty without you,' she whispered. 'Fill me…please…'

Yes, he murmured inside his mind. Yes…

His hands began to trace her body, and it seemed fluid and malleable as wet clay. His hands glided downward over her back, slalomed through the gentle undulations of waist and buttocks and thighs…his fingers slipped into the tight protected crevasses and explored the tender valleys between. Her breasts hardened as she moved against him, and he, hard already and full of his need for her, pressed himself into the cleft between her thighs. Her mouth, lost in his, made tiny whimpering sounds of need, and he drank in her whimpers and her honeyed essence…greedily nourishing his own need.

He felt the velvety brush of her belly as he moved his body to cover hers. Heat blossomed inside him. Pounding heat enveloped him. He sank into her body like a man on fire into a healing fountain.

There was resistance but it had no meaning for him. The sounds coming from her now were little pants and shuddering breaths, and his groan mingled with them as he pushed past the resistance, pushing inexorably deeper into her body. His need of her was unstoppable…his hunger unquenchable. It had taken him over completely, mind and body. Her body enfolded him…her legs were firm and strong around him…her fingers dug deep into the hard ridges of his shoulders…her breath pumped humid warmth against the rocketing pulse at the base of his throat. His body surged, beyond his control.

She uttered a high, sharp cry, and he opened his eyes and looked down through layers of passion fog to find her eyes fever bright and gazing up at him, their pupils huge, black and deep as wells. Genuine awakening came, and then awareness, but it was far too late. His body shuddered and surged one final time as a cry tore through his throat and grated between his spasming jaws. The muscles in his back and belly contracted with a violence he thought would tear him apart, and left him drained, exhausted, and weak as a newborn babe.

Drenched and heartsick, he held himself utterly still while an exhalation sifted slowly through his nostrils and the last remnants of passion-fog lifted from his brain. His arms quivered with the strain of supporting even his sorely depleted body. Eyes closing, he swallowed and mumbled brokenly, 'God, Jess…I-'

'Hush up.' Her hands were on his face, a cool and nurturing touch. 'It's all right.'

'But I didn't…That's not the way I wanted-'

'I know…I know. But it's still all right. You just hush, now, you hear?' Her voice was husky. He'd always loved the sound of it while they were making love. In her mouth love words-sex talk-never sounded crude…just warm and sultry, with enough of a tang to stoke the fires in his blood. Like molasses…

He rolled himself away from her and felt the soft pillow come to cradle his whirling head and smooth fabric comfort his cooling skin. He covered his eyes with his arm and mumbled, 'Jessie…love, I-'

There was so much he wanted to say to her…so many things he needed her to understand. But sleep was waiting for him, warm and lovely…voluptuous and seductive as the body he'd just left. He surrendered himself to it with a sigh.

* * *

'Mom! Hey…' Cross-legged on her bed, Sammi June nudged the book and notepad off her lap and leaned over to peer at the clock radio on the nightstand.

'Hey, hon', how're you?'

'Wow, Mom, what time is it over there? Two…three in the morning?' Fear clutched at her heart, making her gasp. 'Oh God-what's wrong? Is Dad-'

'No, no, nothing's wrong. Your daddy's fine-he's asleep right now. We're in Dusseldorf, in a hotel-I told you he wanted to see where his momma grew up? So that's what we've been doin' today. Anyway, I couldn't sleep, so I thought I might as well give you a call. I thought this might be a good time.'

'Yeah, it is, it's fine. I was just studying…nothing too important. Hey, Mom-'

'I tried calling you at school, but your roommate said you'd gone home. Is everything okay?'

'Oh. Yeah…I guess.' Sammi June made a disgusted sound as she unfolded her legs and got comfortable. 'The media just turned the whole school into a zoo. Nobody could get in and out of the dorm, there wasn't anyplace to park…they even followed me to classes, Mom. Anyway, it was politely 'suggested' I should maybe go home for a while until the furor dies down. So I did. And guess what? Now they're all over here.'

'Who, the media? You mean, they're there? At Momma's?'

'You guessed it. They're camped out in Randall Jackson's field. You should see it. Place looks like a damn refugee camp.'

'I hope you don't let your gramma hear you talk like that,' her mother said mildly.

Sammi June snorted. 'You should hear her cuss when she thinks nobody's listening.' She shifted around so her legs were hanging over the side of the bed. 'Hey, Mom?' Hunched over and hugging herself, she began to rock gently back and forth. Butterflies…emotions…were quivering and jumping inside her. 'I started to tell you. I saw you guys on CNN this morning.'

'You did? What-oh. That must have been from yesterday. Yeah, we were coming back from visiting your grampa Max's hometown and there they were, waitin' for us. Your daddy was tired, but there wasn't any way we could have avoided them. So-' she hesitated, and Sammi June heard her take a quick, catching breath, the way someone does when they're getting ready to lift something heavy '-you saw him, then? What'd you think? Does he