Hidden Fire (11 page)

She wasn't going to give him a chance to change his mind. It took her only a minute or two to find the boxers and then she turned to face him.

“Um, you want to…” She waved one finger in the air in a circling motion.

Morgan, with a disgusted look on his face and a frustrated-sounding grunt, twisted over so his back was to her again.

Gili's hands shook as she unzipped the cold denim and slipped off the jeans, all the while conscious of the fact she had nothing covering her nether regions. She scrambled to step into the boxers and pull them up to her waist. They were a little loose and sagged down to her hips, but at least she was decent.

“I'm done,” she said.

Morgan turned over and lifted up the top cover of the sleeping bag without saying a word.

Chill bumps broke out on Gili's legs and she started to shiver again. She dropped to her knees and scooted under the down covering of the sleeping bag. Curling on her side, she tried to keep her body from touching Morgan's.

He flipped the covering over her and angled across her to turn the lantern down to a mere flicker. Then he settled behind her, his body spooning hers, one arm across her waist.

Heat instantly hit her and drove the cold from her body. Gili stiffened in reaction. Her breathing hiked, heart racing as tension gripped her and tightened the muscles low in her stomach.

“Relax,” he murmured. “I'm not going to jump your bones…unless you ask me.”

Relax?
She snorted.
Easier said than done
. She felt on fire. Her nipples were hard. Her breasts ached. Moisture pooled between her thighs. Her skin was so sensitized that the slightest brush of his hand would make her explode.

She held herself as still as she could until Morgan's breathing deepened. Then, one by one, starting with her toes, she made a determined effort to tighten and release each muscle in her body. Eyes squeezed shut, she dragged air into her lungs and exhaled on a deep sigh. The tension inside her eased. Maybe now she'd get some sleep.

An inch at a time, she edged away from Morgan, as far as the confines of the sleeping bag would allow. Finally, she had enough room to roll onto her back. Problem was, Morgan's arm now rested across her stomach. Did she dare move it? Or would that wake him?

No, not worth the risk. It had taken her long enough as it was to get herself to the point where she thought she might actually get some rest.

She cleared her mind of all extraneous thoughts. The trials of the day floated away, borne on the stream of pre-slumber consciousness. Gili slid deeper into the layers of darkness inside her mind. Time enough tomorrow to deal with the effect Morgan still had on her senses.

Watch the fire, Gili lubra.

Gili jerked as the voice filtered through her mind.

What the heck was going on here? Had she actually heard that? Or had she imagined it?

She turned her head to stare at the feeble light from the carbide lantern. The flame suddenly flared up. The smell of the gas burned heavy on the still air inside the mine. Shadows flashed, thrown into relief on the sandstone surfaces.

A darker shape emerged from the center of the fire. An apparition that swirled and twisted, taking on a definite shape, until she saw the outline of a man and woman, their features heavy with Aboriginal native heritage.

The phantasms floated into the air, driven by the thermals created by the flame. They took on greater definition until they resolved into two lovers, naked, unadorned; delighting in their oneness.

The man lowered his head and took the woman's nipple into his mouth, his hand sliding down her body to cup her between the legs. The woman moaned, turning her head to face Gili.

“
Your destiny, Gili lubra,”
she whispered.

Gili's mouth dropped open. Although insubstantial, made of nothing but wispy overlays of white mist, she recognized the woman. The same woman who'd appeared in her vision at the hotel in Brisbane. The same woman who'd made brief appearances in her dreams since she was sixteen years old.

Dreams? Maybe in the beginning, but not now. More like a vision, given she was wide awake. She reached down and pinched her thigh, wincing at the burst of pain. Yeah, no doubt about it, she was wide awake.

Waves of heat rolled over Gili. Her skin prickled. Fire raged through her veins, igniting pinpricks of sensation that ramped up her libido again.

More shadows formed in the circle of light around the campsite. Couples twined in sexual abandon. The musky smell of satisfaction filled the air. Bled deep into Gili's consciousness until an inferno burst to life inside her.

She felt as if she were burning up. Her breathing rasped. Pulse pounded. Tremors of sexual tension awakened nerve endings seared with the molten sweep of her blood. The muscles in her belly contracted as the need for release increased.

Hands shaking, she palmed her breasts. A sob gusted from her mouth. An arrow of need shot from her chest and lodged between her thighs.

Avoiding Morgan's arm still resting across her stomach, she slid one hand down her body, whimpering at the sensitized brush of skin against skin. With a furtive glance at Morgan's sleeping form, she slipped her hand between her legs and palmed her sex.

It wasn't enough. She needed more. Her skin felt too tight to contain the level of sexual hunger that assailed her. She clenched her hand between her thighs. A moan surfaced. She swallowed it, not wanting to wake Morgan.

“You too, huh?”

Gili gasped and pulled her hand away from her body.
Oh, God, how embarrassing
. “I…ah, I—”

“Christ, I feel like I'm about to explode,” Morgan interrupted. He slid closer, his hand tightening across her stomach.

She didn't need to ask what he was talking about. The hard ridge of a straining erection caressed her hip. He rocked against her and the breath caught in her throat. Her muscles clenched and a shivery feeling filled her.

Overhead, the misty couples swirled in the dim lighting. The moans of surrender, swiftly followed by cries of satisfaction, echoed in Gili's head. She looked back at Morgan as he reared up and balanced his weight on one elbow. His dark eyes glittered and a sensual smile curved his lips.

“Can you see them, too?” She kept her tone to a whisper, half afraid the sound of her voice would banish the apparitions.

“I've been watching them for a while, but I heard their voices in my sleep long before that.”

“I thought I'd imagined it. The voices are what woke me up.”

“It's this mine. The spirits of the people.” Morgan reached out with his free hand and ran the pad of his thumb across Gili's lips.

She shivered, only this time it had nothing to do with the cold. She fought for a degree of sanity amid the tumult of sexual hunger that consumed her.

“Think they're trying to tell us something?” she quirked, going for a bit of light relief to lessen the tension clawing at her gut.

“Unfinished business, Gili?”

Before she could respond, Morgan swooped. He nibbled on her bottom lip before sucking it into the warmth of his mouth. Gili moaned. As if taking the sound for a sign of acquiescence, he fastened his mouth over hers, increasing the pressure until she accepted the thrust of his tongue. Tremors slid up and down her spine. Oh God, she'd needed this. His taste. His touch. The liquid warmth flavored with the scent of pure male mixed with a hint of the coffee he'd had before turning in for the night. She became the aggressor, wrapping her free hand around his neck and tugging him closer. Meeting the movement of his tongue with the flick of her own. Then sucking hard, forcing a groan from his throat. When he broke off the kiss, her breathing was shattered. She rolled her head on the sleeping bag, fighting to fill her lungs with fresh oxygen.

The ghosts still hovered in the air above them. Fainter now, twisted with tendrils of white smoke, but still there, each one with a smile on its face as if sated with voyeuristic pleasure. Gili felt as if she'd somehow managed to please them.

Morgan turned her face to him and stared into her eyes. “No strings, Gili. Mutual satisfaction for both of us, but nothing more. You understand?”

“Morgan, you talk too much.” She snaked her arms around his neck and dragged him down to her.

He claimed her mouth again in a hard, swift kiss, his tongue dancing with hers. Gili sighed and settled in to enjoy the conflagration his lips engendered.

Disappointment sliced through her and she moaned when he broke off and slid his mouth from hers. Then she sighed with satisfaction when he angled down over her chin and nibbled at her neck, soothing the love bites with the hot sweep of his tongue.

The tremors intensified. The flesh on her arms pebbled and she shook with need.

Morgan snapped the thin straps of her top, the sound loud in the quiet of the tunnel. He rolled the knit fabric down, exposing her breasts to his sight.

Her nipples were hard, aching, her breasts heavy, begging for his touch, and he didn't disappoint. With a groan, he lowered his head and took the tip of one breast into his mouth.

Gili arched her upper body, her hands tangled in his hair to hold him closer still. He suckled hard, rolling her nipple against the roof of his mouth, and fire shot from her breast down to her core, as if an invisible line connected all the parts of her body.

As the sensations washed over her, she started to pant. Her hands clawed at his back, tugging on his t-shirt in an effort to pull him over her. He resisted and the frustration levels jumped a notch. Then he slid his hand down her stomach and cupped her between her thighs.

She lost the ability to breathe. She couldn't think. Could only feel. The trembling that gripped her limbs. The hunger raging inside her. The liquid heat that poured from her core, but most of all, the need to wipe away the bitterness of the last six years and show Morgan what he meant to her.

Morgan insinuated his fingers under the elastic of the boxers, dragging his thumb along the length of her. “Christ, you're so wet,” he mumbled against the swell of her breast as he parted her moist folds.

He lifted his head and stared at her, his eyes glittering in the dim light. “Tell me you want this, Gili. Just don't cut me off when I'm almost there. I won't be responsible for my actions if you do that. I've wanted this too long.”

He eased two fingers inside her. Gili raised her hips, pushing him deeper. When he made a move to withdraw, she wrapped her hand around his wrist, digging her nails into the bronzed skin. Holding him there, she pumped her hips, riding his fingers as tension clawed at her belly.

“Give me the words, woman,” he growled.

“Damn you, Morgan Hunt, I'm burning up. I need you…
now
.”

She almost screamed as Morgan dragged his hand from her body. He gripped the elastic of the boxer shorts and wrenched them down her legs. Then he quickly rolled her top down over her hips and dealt with that, too.

Naked, she lay there, open to him. He ran his gaze over her and Gili felt as if he'd seared the skin right off her body, leaving her innermost feelings visible for anyone who dared look.

“Your turn,” she managed to whisper when what she wanted to do was beg him to make love to her. Hand shaking, Gili pulled at his briefs, sliding them over the taut muscles of his rear end. She couldn't reach any farther, but Morgan deftly completed the mission. Just as quickly, he reefed his t-shirt over his head and tossed it aside. Now she was free to explore.

Her hands glided across his chest, over nipples just as hard as hers. God, he was so hot, as if he were ready to combust. Continuing her downward exploration, her fingers lightly caressed his stomach, his muscles contracting in reaction.

Lower still, until she wrapped her hand around his rigid erection. He throbbed against her palm. Satin over steel, a heady combination.

Morgan moaned. Gratified by his response, Gili slid her fingers along his length, rubbing at the drop of moisture on the swollen head, before reversing the procedure.

He pulled her hand from his body. “Can't last. Waited too long,” he gasped. “Jeans.”

Gili was in a daze, her mind caught up in the heat, the strength of his erection. “What? We're not wearing any.”

He waved a hand over her shoulder. “Mine, not yours. Wallet in the back pocket.”

She reached backwards and felt around until her fingers touched the thick denim fabric. Dragging them over her head, she allowed them to fall on her chest.

Morgan yanked the wallet out of the rear pocket and tossed his pants across the mine. In his haste, he dumped the contents of the wallet on Gili's bare breasts. She sniggered, the sound escalating to loud chuckles as she flicked coins, business cards and a ten dollar bill off her chest.

Did she want this? You bet. Part of her worried this coming together was nothing but the result of the erotic images that still hovered above them in the smoke from the lantern. Even if that were so, she wasn't about to turn back. She wanted it too badly.

“You're paying me in coins and bills?” she quipped.

“Not paying you for sex, but before we're done, you'll be offering to pay me.”

She burst into chuckles again. “My God, talk about an ego.”

The laughter died and she stared at Morgan. “I don't believe it. We're like kids getting it on for the first time, nervous as hell, fumblingly inadequate.”

Morgan snapped up the silver foil packet from Gili's chest and aimed a quick grin at her as he ripped it open. “Speak for yourself, woman. There's nothing inadequate about me.”

The laughter had broken the tension somewhat, allowing Gili to breathe deeply and regain her equilibrium. She lost it again when Morgan lifted his body over hers and settled between her thighs. She raised her hips, needing him desperately, but for the moment, he denied her closer contact.

“No matter what happens tomorrow, I'll have this.” His voice was deep, a slight tremor underlying the words. “Too late to ask me to stop, Gili. I've dreamed of this for six years.”