She slid her arms around his neck, pulled him to her, and said, “Good, that’s just between us then.”
He lowered his head, kissed her, his tongue plunging deep, even as his hips surged until he was seated right in the heart of her.
She stilled. He lifted his head, looked down at her in worry. She took several slow deep breaths. “I’m fine,” she said. “It’s just been a while.”
He shuffled ever-so-slightly, and she lifted her hips and wiggled. He closed his eyes, reaching for control.
And then she whispered, “Don’t worry. I’m good.”
He kissed her hard and said, “Are you sure?”
“I said it’s been a while,” she said. “And that was a little more than I bargained for, if you know what I mean.”
He chuckled and said, “As long as you’re okay.” And he lifted his hips and gently started to ride. Moments later, she hung on, giving as good as she got, and soon wasn’t capable of anything but responding blindly to the power, the presence of the moment, and the heat that surged through the two of them.
When she came apart in his arms, she cried out for joy. As she collapsed, he roared above her, and she could feel his own orgasm ripping through her, and her body exploded again. She lay shuddering in shock.
When he finally collapsed beside her, he said, “Good thing we’ve got a lifetime ahead of us because that went way too quickly.”
She placed a finger on his lips. “Shh. It was perfect,” she said. “And, as you said, we have a lifetime for more.”
“But, a lifetime aside, we can do it again in a minute, right?” And he waggled his eyebrows.
She laughed in delight.
Her phone rang, and she eyed it distrustfully.
“If it’ll bother you,” he said, “why don’t you turn it off?”
She lifted the phone and saw it was a message from Frankie. And as she scrolled down, a photo loaded. Then another and another. Close-ups of his paintings. She gasped in shock at the scenery, the soft pastel rivers, almost European settings. She stared at them in delight.
“What are they?” he asked.
She twisted her cell slightly so he could see, and he nodded. “Those are amazing.”
She quickly texted him back. Absolutely wonderful. These are fantastic. She included a heart emoji to go along with it.
“And that was for what?”
She looked up at him, smiled, and said, “Validation. We all need it.”
He nodded in comprehension. “And going back to that question I asked you earlier.”
“About my painting?”
“What makes them glow?” he asked. “What is that luminescence that makes them come alive?”
She smiled and said, “It won’t make a whole lot of sense to you, unless you understand the energy of things and the colors of energy.”
“I’m slowly learning,” he said, “particularly after Stefan gave me a few lessons.” On that note, he looked down and checked out her ankles, realizing they were completely free of the black bonds. He reached down, pulled her right knee up so that he could stroke the ankle. “The chains, the black energy, was wrapped around both of your ankles.”
“Which is interesting,” she said, “because both my ankles were broken by my ex-fiancé,” she said. “So I guess it makes sense. He liked to tie his victims by the ankle.” Her tone turned sad as she remembered it.
He leaned over and whispered, “We’ll leave that sadness behind now. But you still haven’t answered the question.”
She laughed in delight, threw her arms around him, and said, “It’s the simplest answer in the world. I use energy, but I use good energy. I use what would heal the entire world, if people would stop and accept some into their heart.”
He stared at her, and she could see the confusion in his gaze.
“I infuse all my paintings with love.”
Epilogue
Thirty-year-old Gabby Mulder called out to her friends, “Go.”
They all dove down the ski slope, racing to the bottom of the hill, on the last run of the day. The sun was high; the snow shone brightly on a wonderful Aspen day. Gabby was tired after a long but wonderful day of snowboarding, looking forward to hitting the hot tub. The others had wanted to do one more run, and she’d been willing to go along, knowing she could take it easy. Snowboarding was such a great way to combat stress.
Something she had in spades.
Especially after yesterday.
She worked as a clerk at a local Aspen bookstore. A job she’d quickly fallen in love with, even though she’d only been at the resort town for the winter and planned to leave when the ski season was over. She and her best friend Wendy had been planning a winter here since forever. Now the end of March was near, and she couldn’t bear to think about leaving. She loved it here, … the town, the atmosphere, her job. Even her boss, although morose and cranky most of the time, was great.
He had been looking for a gimmick to bring in more customers. As a lark, she had picked up a pack of tarot cards she’d found under the counter, and Gabby had offered free readings. That had been all fun and games, until several people had come back, confirming that her readings had been right on. Then somebody had returned, saying how horrible the message was that she’d been given because it all happened just as described, and now she was widowed and felt Gabby could have done something to save her husband’s life.
That was followed by a visit from one of Aspen’s finest. Detective Damon Monroe had definitely not understood nor had he been impressed. In fact, it’s almost as if he thought she might have had something to do with the man’s death to make her prophecy come true. She wasn’t sure whether
