Afterlife (51 page)

to touch and be touched with such

easy joy. She felt like a

member of a harem for a powerful

sultan—or in this case,

five sultans—glorying in the state of

sensuality that

belonging to such men could keep at

an astonishingly high

level. She hadn’t believed in a dream

like this, had resisted

it, and why? Now that she’d

experienced it, she knew she’d

give almost anything to feel like this.

She’d never

understood there
was
a line between

dangerous addiction

and courage. It was both painful and

thril ing to realize how

close to the positive side of that line

she’d perhaps always

been. But she believed in cycles,

Fate and karma. If she’d

learned to have that courage before

Jon had come into her

life, it wouldn’t have been the same.

Now was the right time,

the way it was meant to be.

They dried her, put her back in her

dress, helped her with

her hair, and she helped them with

theirs, since they’d al

gotten equal y wet. They talked very

little of specific

things…it wasn’t needed. That would

come later. They also

seemed to understand she couldn’t

handle much of

anything beyond immediate thoughts,

simple needs. Playful

touches were mixed once again with

comforting caresses,

hugs, long moments of simply being

held. The reassurance

of women speaking in quiet

conversation.

When at last they emerged, Jon was

waiting at the top of

the stairs, hip propped on the rail. He

was talking to Ben,

who straightened from his panther’s

slouch against the wal

and gave al the ladies a thorough

perusal and rakish grin,

the charming lawyer back in ful

force. “What I would have

given to be in that shower,” he noted,

taking in al the wet

hair and heated, damp skin.

“No boys were al owed,” Dana

informed him. “Boys are

gross.”

She escaped his swat at her backside,

stuck out her

tongue in his direction, then ran for

the direction of Peter’s

voice. Ben fol owed in mock pursuit,

though Rachel noticed

he stayed close enough to grab her if

she stumbled. Rol ing

her eyes, Cass squeezed Rachel’s

arm and left her with a

smile to join Lucas. Both he and

Peter were seated on a

velvet divan, Peter’s long legs

sprawled out while Lucas

leaned forward on his elbows with

restless energy.

Dana landed on Peter’s lap,

wriggling there until he gave

her thigh a light slap to settle her

down and threw a wide

grin in Ben’s direction. Lucas rose to

slip an arm around

Cass’ waist, his hand settling low on

her hip, stroking the

line of it under the skirt. From the

heated look in his eyes,

he was ready to do some of his own

playing here, and

Rachel realized then that their

particular scenario had

probably guaranteed al couples

would enjoy one another to

an even more intense level tonight.

Savannah stroked

Rachel’s brow, gave her a thoughtful

nod before she moved

down the hal way where Matt was

talking to a man who

looked like the club manager, and,

based on the relaxed

body language between them, a

friend. As Savannah got

closer, he held out his hand without

looking in her direction,

knowing she was there, and drew her

in to his side.

“I’m taking you home.”

A sigh shivered out of her as Jon

spoke in her ear, his

voice husky and a little dangerous.

When he turned her to

face him, she was graphical y

reminded that, while she’d

been taken over the moon with her

climax, he’d withheld his

release. The lust pulsed off him in

waves, every line of his

body taut with desire, the blue eyes

intent. The way he

gripped her, the sense of aroused

urgency in his strong

fingers, gave her a delicious fear,

knowing her Master

would be in the mood to take when

he got her home. She

wanted him to do so. She wanted to

meet his every

demand, wanted him to fuck her

savagely, with no care for

her own needs until he was ful y

sated.

He closed his hand on her ass. She

could feel the heat of

his skin, the solid muscle, through the

thin layers of clothing

that separated them. “I’m going to

fuck you for the rest of

the night, long and hard, until you

can’t handle it hard

anymore. Then I’l be gentle, but I’m

going to keep doing it

until your pussy creams upon

demand. And I’m going to do

it in your bed, so you’l get used to

having my scent there,

on everything that’s a part of your

life.”

Her pussy had already dampened at

the first sentence.

She’d barely gotten her breath back

yet, and her body had

been sorely, deliciously used.

However, she wouldn’t tel

Jon she might need that gentleness

sooner than later. Not

because she was avoiding tel ing him

what would hurt her,

as he’d warned her against earlier.

But because she knew

he would know. He was so conscious

of how she was

feeling, how tired or weak she was.

He would know the

limits of her endurance and test them

the way only a Master

could.

“I’d like that.” The words were a

fervent breath of sound

as she looked up at him. He stroked

his finger beneath that

velvet col ar, twisted to increase its

hold. “Master.”

“Good girl,” he said, that blue fire

getting hotter.

She realized she hadn’t real y given

him any indication of

her feelings about the rest of what

had happened tonight.

Though she expected he knew that

too, she glanced over at

the others. “I’d like…I’d like to see

them again.”

“You wil . And not just like this. This

is my family. Your

family.” He spoke the overwhelming

truth that would take

time for her to handle, but in a good

way. “We’l get to

spend lots of time with them. Would

you like that?”

“Yes, very much.”

“Good. Maybe we’l do dinner with

them next Friday. You

haven’t eaten Italian meets Tex-Mex

until Matt cooks for

you. It’s incredible. We’l fly down to

his place on the Gulf for

the weekend if your schedule al ows

for it.”

Normal things and total y ground-

shaking changes in her

life, al mixed together. She could

only nod, lean in to his

body as he moved them into a walk,

shifting his arm to her

waist. “You’re stil trembling,” he

said quietly. “I can carry

you.”

She shook her head. “As much as I

love the way that

feels, I want to feel the trembling. I

want to know you did this

to me.”

“Al right. I’m going to have Lucas

walk out with us so he

can be with you while I tip the

doorman. Then we’l go

home.”

The look he gave her said they’d

barely make it into her

apartment before he’d be inside her

again. He might not

even take time to open the door. He’d

push her into that

partial y hidden alcove, shove up her

skirt and take her

against the paneled wood of her

door, hitting it with a

rhythmic thud. Anyone who came

down the hal would

recognize the sound, know what they

were doing. Then

later, when he took her in her bed, the

silhouette of his

shoulders would be over her in the

darkness, the climax a

rol ing tide that would send her to

dreams…

* * * * *

She felt like pure, sparkling water.

When they emerged

from the club, it was remarkably

early, only about ten

o’clock. The stars were so bright,

even with the lights of the

city against the sky. She had Jon’s col

ar on her throat, and

with that and her sexy dress, coming

out of this kind of club,

it was obvious what she was to those

coming in. Their

knowing glances made her feel…

breathtaking. Powerful

and submissive at once, so aware of

al the male energy

around her, but particularly the

energy of the one with the

doorman. Jon met her gaze, heated,

strong, and she was

glad for Lucas’ brief touch at her

back, guiding her. She

was besotted, enraptured, completely

—

“Rachel?”

It was like hearing an unwelcome

voice in the middle of a

particularly good dream. It didn’t

make sense, made things

disorienting. Though she real y didn’t

want to, she turned

toward it.

Cole had become more avid about

golfing during the

latter part of their marriage, probably

to escape the obvious

fact that their marriage was failing.

She’d been no better,

sometimes actual y relieved to have

more time alone.

She’d learned loneliness was

preferable to being in the

company of someone who obviously

would rather not be

with her.

Earlier, she’d recognized the nearby

steakhouse as one

of Cole’s favorite watering holes.

But the chance of seeing

him had been so remote, too absurd a

coincidence, she

hadn’t considered it. Even though

everything in her life, the

spirituality she embraced, had proven

to her over and over

again that random occurrences often

weren’t. The parent

who unexpectedly came home from

work at lunchtime to

find the teenagers rendezvousing in

their bed, the wife

running into the mistress at the mal …

Fate had thrown him here at this

exact moment, hadn’t it?

To teach her something, tel her

something. But what? The

sick fear returned, her stomach

already knowing what her

mind refused to process.

He stepped over the parking lot

markers, crossed the

short strip of grass between the two

businesses. She

struggled to focus over the roar in her

head. The last time

she’d seen him had been at the

funeral. He must be

working out, because he’d dropped

some weight and

looked pretty fit, but the stress lines

around his eyes and

mouth, the simmering unhappiness he

carried with him, had

not changed. She ached for that,

ached that she’d

contributed to it. She’d been yet

another disappointment in

his life.

He stopped in front of her. Whereas

each time Jon’s

gaze traveled over her, she felt vivid

and alive, purely

sensual, Cole’s raking perusal turned

every exposed inch

of her flesh into something crawling,

putrefied.

A moment ago she’d felt gorgeous, a

creature of pure

sensation. Her stil -damp hair had

brushed her bare neck,

curling blonde strands a sexy frame

for her face. The erotic

dress had held her generous breasts

firmly, the high ride of

the hem and stiletto heels showing off

her toned, slim legs.

Now her hair was a disheveled mess,

the far-too-scanty

dress and tottering heels revealing an

older woman’s

inappropriate

foolishness.

Her

nipples

were

embarrassingly obvious.

As his focus moved over Jon’s col ar

on her throat, she

almost cried out at the pain of having

the significance of

that stripped from her, tossed aside

with no chance of

grabbing it back. It was no different

from a fancy poodle’s

col ar, something ridiculous instead

of beautiful, ful of

personal meaning. Cinderel a had

been discovered by the

stepsisters, and Cole’s gaze was their

rough, cruel hands,

tearing away al the pretty trappings to

leave her a

worthless cinder maid again.

“So I guess you found what you were

looking for.” He

spoke in a flat tone, and she had

enough sense to think he

might be in as much shock as she

was. She managed to

hold her position, but her knees were

wobbling, and not

from sensual overload. She couldn’t

find a single word to

say.

In the awkward silence, his face got

hard, tight. “God,

Rachel. I guess there’s at least one

good thing about Kyle

being dead. He never had to see his

mother like this.”

At one time, she hadn’t realized that