As Eden looked down the length of Nevada’s body, her eyes changed, becoming a luminous golden green. “Yes, you certainly could.”
The approval in Eden’s voice was as seductive as the glide of her tongue over his lips had been. Nevada closed his eyes, no longer able to bear the sight of Eden kneeling naked by his side. He wanted her hands all over his skin, he wanted her mouth, he wanted her hot, silky body fitted to him.
Nevada didn’t know he had released Eden’s hands until he heard the first metal snap on his shirt open. The other snaps followed in slow succession, for Eden was enjoying each new bit of masculine territory that was revealed by the steady retreat of his black flannel shirt. Finally she tugged the shirt-tails free of his jeans and ran her hands almost greedily over his chest.
The pleasure Eden took in touching Nevada made the air wedge in his throat. She was smiling dreamily while her fingers kneaded through the wedge of black hair that began at his collarbone and narrowed to a finger’s width just above his navel. When she smoothed her way back to Nevada’s chest and bent to kiss him, her breasts swayed against him with soft invitation. She shivered as the cushion of hair on his chest teased her nipples to life once more.
“I’m new to this,” Eden whispered, moving again, this time deliberately, increasing the sweet friction of her breasts against Nevada’s chest. “But I’m assuming that men and women like the same kind of touching.” Her hands searched through the rough silk of his chest hair, seeking and finding the flat male nipples, teasing them into hard points. “If I’m wrong, let me know.”
Nevada’s breath hissed between his teeth as pleasure lanced through his body, tightening it as surely as the male nipples hardening beneath Eden’s fingertips. This time when her tongue traced his lips, they opened hungrily, both accepting and demanding a deep mating of mouths. By the time the kiss ended, his skin was slick with a sultry sheen of passion and he was breathing much too hard.
Knowing he shouldn’t, needing Eden too much to stop himself, Nevada lifted her astride his half-naked body and took the pink tip of one breast into his mouth. As he shaped her with the changing pressures of teeth and tongue, he felt the sudden arching of her back, the clenching of her thighs, and the secret rain of her passion. He groaned and pulled her more deeply into his mouth, loving her responsive flesh.
“I’m supposed to be pleasuring you not the other way around,” Eden said, fighting for the breath that had deserted her without warning.
After a last, lingering love bite, Nevada released her breast and whispered, “Turning you on pleasures me.”
Before Eden could answer, Nevada’s mouth moved to her other breast. He licked its pink peak until Eden shivered and her nipple tightened in a rush that made her moan. His lips parted hungrily as he took all of her sweet flesh that he would into the heat and darkness of his mouth.
“It’s dangerous, though,” Nevada said finally, his voice thick.
He released Eden with a slow reluctance that was itself a caress. She trembled again, and again Nevada felt her hot, secret rain against his naked skin. He swore softly, shockingly, even as one hand traced her spine to the small of her back and from there down the warm cleft below until she gasped in pleasure once more.
“Too damned dangerous,” he whispered.
“W-why?”
One of Nevada’s hands flattened between Eden’s shoulder blades, pressing her tightly against his chest, while his other hand explored the warmth that now lay open to his touch. Eden’s breath went out in a moan as Nevada caressed the swollen, sultry flesh that had known only his touch. His fingertips glided inside, drawing forth more of Eden’s secret rain.
Nevada’s hand retreated, returned, caressed, and when Eden moaned, so did he. His hand retreated and there was a muted sound of metal buttons opening one at a time. Gently, inexorably, Nevada’s hands eased Eden’s weight farther down his body until the hard length of his arousal pressed up between her legs. Only the thickness of his underwear prevented the joining of their bodies.
The barrier was not nearly enough for safety.
“That’s why it’s dangerous,” Nevada said savagely.
For a moment Eden couldn’t answer. The elemental fitting of male against female had just taught her how much had been missing from her previous taste of passion. The realization was dizzying, like the heat spreading up in waves from between her thighs, wildfire melting her. Instinctively she moved her hips, rocking slowly, softly, hotly, getting as close as she could to the hard male flesh despite the barrier of cloth.
Nevada had meant to shock Eden from her passion with the blunt reminder of his arousal, but he was the one who was shocked. The melting response of Eden’s body spread through the thin barrier between them as though nothing were there at all.
And then nothing was.
A sweep of his hands, a muscular twist of his body and Nevada lay naked between Eden’s legs. She made a soft sound of discovery and approval at the new masculine territory he had given to her. He watched through narrowed green eyes while her fingertips caressed and traced hot satin skin, learning the contours of his hunger, capturing the single drop of passion he could not contain.
Eden lifted a fingertip to her lips, touched it to her tongue. “Now I know what life tastes like.”
A groan was dragged out of the depths of Nevada’s soul. His hands moved, lifting, seeking, finding, joining his body with Eden. He tried not to join with her completely. Then he saw that she was watching him take her and her eyes were like sunrise, burning away darkness, hungry for the day to come. Her name was torn from him and he pierced the veil of her innocence in a single incandescent instant.
Eden’s breath unraveled as she accepted the transformation, taking all of Nevada until she was hot and sleek around him, fully alive and lush with the secret rain of her passion, and his name was a chant on her lips. As she bent to kiss him, the motion shifted her body around him, caressing him with silky urgency, calling to him in a communication far older and more potent than words.
“Don’t move,” Nevada said hoarsely.
“Why?” Eden breathed, moving, shivering, moving again, because she had never felt anything so perfect as being joined with the man she loved.
“I can’t control”
Even as Nevada’s voice broke he reached for Eden, drawing her mouth down to his, hungry for every bit of her. He rolled over swiftly, taking her with him, pinning her with his hips, making it impossible for her to move. Shaking with the violence of his restraint, Nevada began to withdraw from Eden.
But when only a last, tantalizing fraction joined them, Nevada found he couldn’t force himself to leave Eden completely. Body rigid, he fought for the self-control that had been his only weapon and defense against life’s treachery.
Eden’s voice broke over Nevada’s name. She shivered and whispered fragments of words, passionate sounds without meaning, pleading and demanding, knowing only that she must be completely joined with him again or die.
“One more, fairy-tale girl,” Nevada breathed against Eden’s lips. “Just once.”
Slowly he pressed into Eden again, filling her, feeling her cling to him with tiny, hot movements that were as involuntary as the wild beating of her heart. He withdrew even more slowly, and once again could not force himself to leave her entirely. Fists clenched, eyes tightly shut, skin gleaming with sweat, Nevada fought to make his body obey the demands of his mind.
Then Eden moaned and the wild, sensual rain of her release bathed Nevada in fire, burning through all possibility of control. With an anguished sound he thrust into her once more, filling her, giving himself to her with each elemental surge of his body until the gift was finally complete.
And then Nevada lay spent on Eden’s breast, felt their hearts beating together, tasted their mingled breaths, and understood the full extent of his self-betrayal.
My God, how could I be such a fool?
The only answer was as bitter as it was true. The self-discipline that had been the very core of Nevada’s survival had been breached at the same instant as the frail barrier of Eden’s innocence. He could not have been more foolish. She could not have wounded him more savagely if she had slid a knife between his ribs into his heart.
Silently Nevada withdrew from Eden, dressed swiftly and walked away. With each step he prayed he would have the strength to build his defenses once more, and this time build them so high and so deep that he would never again be touched by the devastation of Eden’s sweet and fatal fire.
<< 10 >>
As always when Baby was around, Eden woke up at dawn. As had become her habit in the past week, she looked automatically to the place where Nevada’s bedroll had been.
It was empty.
It had been empty for seven days. She had no reason to believe it wouldn’t always be empty. Nevada had made love to her, made her cry out with the pleasure and beauty of his touch and then he had left without a word. He hadn’t been back since.
Silently Eden asked the question that had been aching inside her every moment since she had awakened alone.
Why did you leave, Nevada? When I asked you why you hated wanting me, you told me it was because you didn’t have me. Then we made love and you walked away as though nothing had happened. Why, Nevada? Didn’t I please you?
Blinking back the tears that would do no good, Eden got up and quickly began preparing her breakfast. Her breath made silver-white plumes in the cabin’s cold air. The chinook had been followed by a cold northern wind that had settled in as though it meant to stay until June. Last night a thin veil of snow had fallen once more over the land, making the ground glitter whitely.
“If that mama cougar has gone hunting, we’ll find her tracks. Then I’ll finally find her den. Right, Baby?” Eden asked, her voice husky from lack of use.
The big animal’s ears pricked alertly at her first word. His yellow eyes had a gemlike clarity as they followed Eden’s every motion until breakfast was eaten and the cabin was put in order.
“Ready to go tracking?”
Instantly Baby was on his feet, vibrating with eagerness. He pawed at the front door.
“I thought you would be. This time let’s find something bigger than a bobcat.”
Baby whined and pranced, understanding only that his favorite activity was about to begin.
Vowing to think only about cougars rather than the man who had touched her soul and then walked away as though nothing had happened, Eden opened the door and let Baby out. He shot across the clearing and raced into the sparse forest like a low-flying shadow.
Eden slipped on her backpack and walked quickly out into the light. The tracks Baby left were crisp, clear, and unnecessary. She knew where he was going to the creek in the bottom of a ravine, and up the opposite slope to the base of the big fir tree where the cougar had first been spotted. The cat had managed to elude her trackers since the wild chase two weeks ago.
While looking for the mama cougar, Eden had found the tracks of two other cougars, photographed them, logged them, and followed them as far as possible. One of the cougars had been a young cat searching for territory that was unoccupied by other cougars. The boundary markers left by resident cougars had discouraged the young cat, pushing it along until it was beyond the boundaries of Eden’s study area.
The second cougar whose tracks Eden had found was apparently a permanent resident, but it didn’t have a den, which meant that it wasn’t a female with cubs. Cougars without cubs covered as much as thirty miles in a day. Following such animals was very difficult, even when Baby’s nose was thrown into the effort. In bad weather, tracking cats without radio collars was impossible.
Eden had pinned her hopes on Nevada’s belief that the “big tree cougar” was a mama. The fact that the cat had vanished for the past two weeks was encouraging rather than discouraging. It probably meant that the fir tree was more toward the edge of the cougar’s territory than in its center, and the cubs were keeping her close to home. But a mama cougar nursing cubs had to eat to keep up her own strength, which meant she had to go out and hunt. Hunting cats left tracks, especially in freshly fallen snow.
When Eden reached the big tree, Baby was casting about for fresh scent. When he found none, he looked to Eden. She whistled. Baby shot off along the shoulder of the rise, quartering a new area. She followed his progress, whistling or calling occasional instructions, communicating with him in a code that the two of them had worked out over years of hunting together.
Three hours later and seven miles distant from the big tree, Baby struck fresh tracks. His howl electrified the silent land. Instantly Eden whistled for Baby to return to her. He obeyed on the run, mouth wide, pink tongue lolling, laughing up at her when he found her.
At Eden’s signal, Baby fell in step at her left heel. So long as Baby hadn’t been penned up for days, he was more than happy to collaborate on the hunt. In the past week, he had gotten plenty of exercise. Eden had spent as little time as possible within the cabin, for it was haunted by Nevada’s absence.
A few minutes later Eden was studying the tracks Baby had found. They were indeed fresh. More important, they had been left by the cougar Baby had once treed. The slightly oversize toe on the cat’s left front paw was unmistakable. Eagerly Eden followed the tracks, moving quickly. The forest thinned even more, giving way to a boulder-strewn, south-facing slope. The tracks suddenly became very close together, almost overlapping. Abruptly the tracks dug in hard and deep and vanished.
Eden paced off the length of empty snow until the tracks began again and whistled soft approval.
“Thirty-three feet in a single bound. Not bad for a young female.”
Through binoculars, Eden scanned the landscape immediately in front of her. The wind gusted, shifting and swirling down the slope, blowing from her back rather than across her face.
Suddenly Baby threw back his head and howled.
“Quiet,” Eden said without putting down the glasses.